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HISTORY 


OF  THJK 


GREAT  REFORMATION 


OF  THE 


L 
SIXTEENTH  CENTURY, 


IN 


GERMANY,  SWITZERLAND, 


ETC., 


BY 


J.  H.  MERLE  D'AUBIGNE, 

M 

PRESIDENT  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SCHOOL  OF  GENEVA,  AND  MEMBER  OF  THE  *'  SOCIETE 

EVANGELIQUE." 


NEW  YORK. 

WILLIAM  H.  COLYER,  No.  5  HAGUE-STREET. 

LEWIS  &  SAMPSON,  BOSTON. 

1844. 


PREFACE. 


THE  work  I  have  undertaken  is  not  the  history  of  a  party.  It  is  the  history  of  one  of  the  greatest  revolu- 
tions ever  effected  in  human  affairs — the  history  of  a  mighty  impulse  communicated  to  the  world  three  centu- 
ries ago,  and  of  which  the  operation  is  still  everywhere  discernible  in  our  own  days.  The  history  of  the 
Reformation  is  altogether  distinct  from  the  history  of  Protestantism.  In  the  former,  all  bears  the  character  of 
a  regeneration  of  human  nature,  a  religious  and  social  transformation,  emanating  from  God  himself.  In  the 
latter,  we  see  too  often  a  glaring  depravation  of  first  principles,  the  conflict  of  parties,  a  sectarian  spirit,  and 
the  operation  of  private  interests.  The  history  of  Protestantism  might  claim  the  attention  only  of  Protestants. 
The  history  of  the  Reformation  is  a  book  for  all  Christians,  or  rather  for  all  mankind. 

An  historian  may  choose  his  portion  in  the  field  before  him.  He  may  narrate  the  great  events  which  change 
the  exterior  aspect  of  a  nation,  or  of  the  world  ;  or  he  may  record  that  tranquil  progression  of  a  nation,  of  the 
church,  or  of  mankind,  which  generally  follows  mighty  changes  in  social  relations.  Both  these  departments 
of  history  are  of  high  importance.  But  the  public  interest  has  seemed  to  turn,  by  preference,  to  those  periods 
which,  under  the  name  of  Revolutions,  bring  forth  a  nation,  or  society  at  large,  for  a  new  era,  and  to  a  new 
career. 

Of  the  last  kind  is  the  transformation  which,  with  very  feeble  powers,  I  have  attempted  to  describe,  in  the 
hope  that  the  beauty  of  the  subject  will  compensate  for  my  insufficiency.  The  name  of  the  revolution  which 
I  here  give  to  it,  is,  in  our  days,  brought  into  discredit  with  many  who  almost  confound  it  with  revolt.  But 
this  is  to  mistake  its  meaning.  A  revolution  is  a  change  wrought  in  human  affairs.  It  is  a  something  new 
which  unrolls  itself  from  the  bosom  of  humanity  ;  and  the  word,  previously  to  the  close  of  the  last  century, 
was  more  frequently  understood  in  a  good  sense  than  in  a  bad  one :  "  a  happy — a  wonderful  Revolution  "  was 
the  expression.  The  Reformation,  being  the  re-establishment  of  the  principles  of  primitive  Christianity,  was 
the  reverse  of  a  revolt.  It  was  a  movement  regenerative  of  that  which  was  destined  to  revive  ;  but  conserva- 
tive of  that  which  is  to  stand  forever.  Christianity  and  the  Reformation,  while  they  established  the  great 
principal  of  the  equality  of  souls  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  overturned  the  usurpations  of  a  proud  priesthood, 
which  assumed  to  place  itself  between  the  Creator  and  his  creature,  at  the  same  time  laid  down  as  a  first  ele- 
ment of  social  order,  that  there  is  no  power  but  what  is  of  God — and  called  on  all  men  to  love  the  brethren, 
to  fear  God,  to  honour  the  king. 

The  Reformation  is  entirely  distinguished  from  the  revolutions  of  antiquity,  and  from  the  greater  part  of 
those  of  modern  times.  In  these,  the  question  is  one  of  politics,  and  the  object  proposed  is  the  establishment 
or  overthrow  of  the  power  of  the  one  or  of  the  many.  The  love  of  truth,  of  holiness,  of  eternal  things,  was 
the  simple  and  powerful  spring  which  gave  effect  to  that  which  we  have  to  narrate.  It  is  the  evidence  of  a 
gradual  advance  in  human  nature.  In  truth,  if  man,  instead  of  seeking  only  material,  temporal,  and  earthly 
interests,  aims  at  a  higher  object,  and  seeks  spiritual  and  immortal  blessings,  he  advances,  he  progresses.  The 
Reformation  is  one  of  the  most  memorable  days  of  this  progress.  It  is  a  pledge  that  the  struggle  of  our  own 
times  will  terminate  in  favour  of  truth,  by  a  triumph  yet  more  spiritual  and  glorious. 

Christianity  and  the  Reformation  are  two  of  the  greatest  revolutions  in  history.  They  were  not  lirAited  to 
one  nation,  like  the  various  political  movements  which  history  records,  but  extended  to  many  nations,  and 
their  effects  are  destined  to  be  felt  to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

Christianity  and  the  Reformation  are,  indeed,  the  same  revolution,  but  working  at  different  periods,  and  in 
dissimilar  circumstances.  They  differ  in  secondary  features :  they  are  alike  in  their  first  lines  and  leading 
characteristics.  The  one  is  the  re-appearance  of  the  other.  The  former  closes  the  old  order  of  things  ;  the 
latter  begins  the  new.  Between  them  is  the  middle  age.  One  is  the  parent  of  the  other  ;  and  if  the  daughter 
is,  in  some  respects,  inferior,  she  has,  in  others,  characters  altogether  peculiar  to  herself. 

The  suddenness  of  its  action  is  one  of  these  characters  of  the  Reformation.  The  great  revolutions  which 
have  drawn  after  them  the  fall  of  a  monarchy,  or  an  entire  change  of  political  system,  or  launched  the  human" 
mind  in  a  new  career  of  development,  have  been  slowly  and  gradually  prepared  ;  the  power  to  be  displaced 
has  long  been  mined  ;  and  its  principal  supports  have  given  way.  It  was  even  thus  at  the  introduction  of 
Christianity.  But  the  Reformation,  at  the  first  glance,  seems  to  offer  a  different  aspect.  The  Church  of 
Rome  is  seen,  under  Leo  X.,  in  all  its  strength  and  glory.  A  monk  speaks — and  in  the  half  of  Europe  this 
power  and  glory  suddenly  crumble  into  dust.  This  revolution  reminds  us  of  the  words  by  which  the  Son  of 
God  announces  his  second  advent :  "  As  the  lightning  cometh  forth  from  the  west  and  shineth  unto  the  east, 
so  shall  also  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man  be." 

This  rapidity  is  inexplicable  to  those  who  see  in  this  great  event  only  a  reform ;  who  make  it  simply  an  act 
of  Critical  judgment,  consisting  in  a  choice  of  doctrines — the  abandoning  of  some,  the  preserving  others,  and 
combining  those  retained,  so  as  to  make  of  them  a  new  code  of  doctrine. 

How  could  an  entire  people  ?  how  could  many  nations  have  so  rapidly  performed  so  difficult  a  work  ?  How 
could  such  an  act  of  critical  judgment  kindle  the  enthusiasm  indispensable  to  great  and  especially  to  sudden 
revolutions?  But  the  Reformation  was  an  event  of  a  very  different  kind  ;  and  this,  its  history  will  prove.  It 
was  the  pouring  forth  anew  of  that  life  which  Christianity  had  brought  into  the  world.  It  was  the  triumph  of 
the  noblest  of  doctrines — of  that  which  animates  those  who  receive  it  with  the  purest  and  most  powerful  en- 
thusiasm—the doctrine  of  Faith — the  doctrine  of  Grace — If  the  Reformation  had  been  what  many  Catholics 
and  Protestants  imagine — if  it  had  been  that  negative  system  of  a  negative  reason,  which  rejects  with  childish 
impatience  whatever  displeases  it,  and  disowns  the  grand  ideas  and  leading  truths  of  universal  Christianity, 
it  would  never  have  overpassed  the  threshold  of  an  academy,  of  a  cloister,  or  even  of  a  monk's  cell.  But  it 
had  no  sympathy  with  what  is  commonly  intended  by  the  word  Protestantism.  Far  from  having  sustained  any 
loss  of  vital  energy,  it  arose  at  once  like  a  man  full  of  strength  and  resolution. 

Two  considerations  will  account  for  the  rapidity  and  extent  of  this  revolution.  One  of  these  must  be  sought 
in  God,  the  other  among  men.  The  impulse  was  given  by  an  unseen  hand  of  power,  and  the  change  which 


vi  PREFACE. 

took  place  was  the  work  of  God.  This  will  be  the  conclusion  arrived  at  by  every  one  who  considers  the  sub- 
ject with  impartiality  and  attention,  and  does  not  rest  in  a  superficial  view.  But  the  historian  has  a  farther 
office  to  perform:  God  acts  by  second  causes.  Many  circumstances,  which  have  often  escaped  observation, 
gradually  prepared  men  for  the  great  transformation  of  the  sixteenth  century,  so  that  the  human  mind  was  ripe 
when  the  hour  of  its  emancipation  arrived. 

The  office  of  the  historian  is  to  combine  these  two  principal  elements  in  the  picture  he  presents.  This  is 
what  is  attempted  in  the  present  work.  We  shall  be  easily  understood,  so  long  as  we  investigate  the  second- 
ary causes  which  contributed  to  bring  about  the  revolution  we  have  undertaken  to  describe.  Many  will,  per- 
haps, be  slower  of  comprehension,  and  will  be  inclined  even  to  charge  us  with  superstition,  when  we  shall 
ascribe  to  God  the  accomplishment  of  the  work.  And  yet  that  thought  is  what  we  particularly  cherish.  The 
history  takes  as  its  guiding  star  the  simple  and  pregnant  truth  that  GOD  is  m  HISTORY.  But  this  truth  is 
commonly  forgotten,  and  sometimes  disputed.  It  seems  fit,  therefore,  that  we  should  open  our  views,  and  by 
so  doing  justify  the  course  we  have  taken. 

In  these  days,  history  can  no  longer  be  that  dead  letter  of  facts  to  recording  which  the  majority  of  the 
earlier  historians  confined  themselves.  It  is  felt  that,  as  in  man's  nature,  so  in  his  history,  there  are  two 
elements — matter  and  spirit.  Our  great  writers,  unwilling  to  restrict  themselves  to  the  production  of  a  sim- 
ple recital,  which  would  have  been  but  a  barren  chronicle,  have  sought  for  some  principle  of  life  to  animate 
the  materials  of  the  past. 

Some  have  borrowed  such  a  principle  from  the  rules  of  art ;  they  have  aimed  at  the  simplicity,  truth,  and 
picturesque  of  description ;  and  have  endeavoured  to  make  their  narratives  live  by  the  interest  of  the  events 
themselves. 

Others  have  sought  in  philosophy  the  spirit  which  should  fecundate  their  labours.  With  incidents  they 
have  intermingled  reflections,  instructions,  political  and  philosophic  truths,  and  have  thus  enlivened  their  reci- 
tals with  a  moral  which  they  have  elicited  from  them,  or  ideas  they  have  been  able  to  associate  with  them. 

Both  these  methods  are,  doubtless,  useful,  and  should  be  employed  within  certain  limits.  But  there  is 
another  source  whence  we  must  above  all  seek  for  the  ability  to  enter  into  the  understanding,  the  mind,  and 
the  life  of  past  ages  ;  and  this  is  Religion.  History  must  live  by  that  principle  of  life  which  is  proper  to  it, 
and  that  life  is  God.  He  must  be  acknowledged  and  proclaimed  in  history  ;  and  the  course  of  events  must 
be  displayed  as  the  annals  of  the  government  of  a  Supreme  Disposer. 

I  have  descended  into  the  lists  to  which  the  recitals  of  our  historians  attracted  me.  I  have  there  seen  the 
actions  of  men  and  of  nations  developing  themselves  with  power,  and  encountering  in  hostile  collision  ;  I 
have  heard  I  know  not  what  clangour  of  arms  ;  but  nowhere  has  my  attention  been  directed  to  tho  majestic 
aspect  of  the  Judge  who  presides  over  the  struggle. 

And  yet  there  is  a  principal  of  movement  emanating  from  God  himself,  in  all  the  changes  among  nations. 
God  looks  upon  that  wide  stage  on  which  the  generations  of  men  successively  meet  and  struggle.  He  is 
there,  it  is  true,  an  invisible  God  ;  but  if  the  profaner  multitude  pass  before  Him  without  noticing  Him,  be- 
cause he  is  "  a  God  that  hideth  himself,"  thoughtful  spirits,  and  such  as  feel  their  need  of  the  principle  of  their 
being,  seek  him  with  the  more  earnestness,  and  are  not  satisfied  until  they  lie  prostrate  at  his  feet.  And 
their  search  is  richly  rewarded.  For,  from  the  heights  to  which  they  are  obliged  to  climb  to  meet  their  God, 
the  world's  history,  instead  of  offering,  as  to  the  ignorant  crowd,  a  confused  chaos,  appears  a  majestic  temple, 
which  the  invisible  hand  of  God  erects,  and  which  rises  to  His  glory  above  the  rock  of  humanity. 

Shall  we  not  acknowledge  the  hand  of  God  in  those  great  men,  or  in  those  mighty  nations  which  arise — 
come  forth,  as  it  were,  from  the  dust  of  the  earth,  and  give  a  new  impulse,  a  new  form,  or  a  new  destiny  to 
human  affairs  ?  Shall  we  not  acknowledge  His  hand  in  those  heroes  who  spring  up  among  men  at  appointed 
times  ;  who  display  activity  and  energy  beyond  the  ordinary  limits  of  human  strength  :  and  around  whom 
individuals  and  nations  gather,  as  if  to  a  superior  and  mysterious  power?  Who  launched  them  into  the  ex- 
panse of  ages,  like  comets  of  vast  extent  and  flaming  trains,  appearing  at  long  intervals,  to  scatter  among  the 
superstitious  tribes  of  men  anticipations  of  plenty  and  joy — or  of  calamities  and  terror?  Who,  but  God  him- 
self? Alexander  would  seek  his  own  origin  in  the  abodes  of  the  Divinity.  And  in  the  most  irreligious  age 
there  is  no  eminent  glory  but  is  seen  in  some  way  or  other  seeking  to  connect  itself  with  the  idea  of  divine 
interposition. 

And  those  revolutions  which,  in  their  progress,  precipitate  dynasties  and  nations  to  the  dust,  those  heaps 
of  ruin  which  we  meet  with  in  the  sands  of  the  desert,  those  majestic  remains  which  the  field  of  human  his- 
tory offers  to  our  reflection,  do  they  not  testify  aloud  to  the  truth  that  God  is  in  History  1  Gibbon,  seated 
on  the  ancient  Capitol,  and  contemplating  its  noble  ruins,  acknowledged  the  intervention  of  a  superior  destiny. 
"•>  r"  ',  he  felt  its  presence  ;  wherever  his  eye  turned  it  met  him  ;  that  shadow  of  a  mysterious  power  reap- 
peared from  behind  every  ruin  ;  and  he  conceived  the  project  of  depicting  its  operation  in  the  disorganization, 
the  decline,  and  the  corruption  of  that  power  of  Rome  which  had  enslaved  the  nations.  Shall  not  that  mighty 
hand  which  this  man  of  admirable  genius,  but  who  had  not  bowed  the  knee  to  Jesus  Christ,  discerned  among 
the  scattered  monuments  of  Romulus  and  of  Marcus  Aurelius,  the  busts  of  Cicero,  and  Virgil,  Trajan's  tro- 
phies, and  Pompey's  horses,  be  confessed  by  us  as  the  hand  of  our  God  ? 

But  what  superior  lustre  does  the  truth — that  God  is  in  history — acquire  under  the  Christian  dispensation  ? 
"What  is  Jesus  Christ — but  God's  purpose  in  the  world's  history  ?  It  was  the  discovery  of  Jesus  Christ 
which  admitted  the  greatest  of  modern  historians*  to  the  just  comprehension  of  his  subject.  "The  gospel," 
says  he,  "  is  the  fulfilment  of  all  hopes,  the  perfection  of  all  philosophy,  the  interpreter  of  all  revolutions,  the 
key  to  all  the  seeming  contradictions  of  the  physical  and  moral  world,  it  is  life,  it  is  immortality.  Since  I 
have  known  the  Saviour,  everything  is  clear;  with  him,  there  is  nothing  I  cannot  solve."! 

Thus  speaks  this  distinguished  historian  ;  and,  in  truth,  is  it  not  the  keystone  of  the  arch— is  it  not  the 
mysterious  bond  which  holds  together  the  things  of  the  earth,  and  connects  them  with  those  of  heaven — that 
God  has  appeared  in  our  nature  ?  What !  God  has  been  born  into  this  world,  and  we  are  asked  to  think 
and  write,  as  if  He  were  not  everywhere  working  out  his  own  will  in  its  history  ?  Jesus  Christ  is  the  true 
God  of  human  history  ;  the  very  lowliness  of  his  appearance  may  be  regarded  as  one  proof  of  il.  If  man 
*  John  ron  Miiller.  *  Lettre  a  C.  Bonnet 


PREFACE.  vn 

designs  a  shade  or  a  shelter  upon  earth,  we  look  to  see  preparations,  materials,  scaffolding,  and  workmen. 
But  God,  when  he  will  give  shade  or  shelter,  takes  the  small  seed  which  the  new-born  infant  might  clasp  in 
its  feeble  hand,  and  deposits  it  in  the  bosom  of  the  earth,  and  from  that  seed,  imperceptible  in  its  beginning, 
he  produces  the  majestic  tree,  under  whose  spreading  boughs  the  families  of  men  may  find  shelter.  To 
achieve  great  results  by  imperceptible  means,  is  the  law  of  the  divine  dealings. 

It  is  this  law  which  has  received  its  noblest  illustration  in  Jesus  Christ.  The  religion  which  has  now  taken 
possession  of  the  gates  of  all  nations,  which  at  this  hour  reigns,  or  hovers  over  all  the  tribes  of  the  earth,  from 
east  to  west,  and  which  even  a  sceptical  philosophy  is  compelled  to  acknowledge  as  the  spiritual  and  social 
Jaw  of  this  world  ;  that  religion,  than  which  there  is  nothing  nobler  under  the  vault  of  heaven,  nay,  in  the 
very  universe  of  creation;  what  was  its  commencement!  ...  A  child  born  in  the  meanest  town  of  the  most 
despised  country  of  the  earth;  a  child  whose  mother  had  not  even  what  falls  to  the  lot  of  the  most  indigent 
and  wretched  women  of  our  cities — a  room  to  bring  forth  in — a  child  born  in  a  stable  and  placed  in  an  ox's 
crib  .  .  .  .  O  God !  I  acknowledge  thee  there,  and  I  adore  thee. 

The  Reformation  recognised  the  same  law  of  God's  operations :  and  it  had  the  consciousness  that  it  fulfilled 
it.  The  thought  that  God  is  in  history  is  often  put  forth  by  the  Reformers.  We  find  it  on  one  occasion  in 
particular,  expressed  by  Luther,  under  one  of  those  comparisons  familiar  and  grotesque,  yet  not  without  a 
certain  sublimity,  which  he  took  pleasure  in  using,  that  he  might  be  understood  by  the  people.  «'  The  world," 
said  he  one  day,  in  a  conversation  with  his  friend  at  table,  "  the  world  is  a  vast  and  grand  game  of  cards, 
made  up  of  emperors,  kings,  and  princes.  The  pope,  for  several  centuries,  has  beaten  emperors,  princes,  and 
kings.  They  have  been  put  down  and  taken  up  by  him.  Then  came  our  Lord  God  ;  he  dealt  the  cards  ;  he 
took  the  most  worthless  of  them  all,  (Luther,)  and  with  it  he  has  beaten  the  pope,  the  conqueror  of  the  kings 
of  the  earth  .  .  .  There  is  the  ace  of  God.  '  He  has  cast  down  the  mighty  from  their  seats,  and  has  exalted 
them  of  low  degree,'  as  Mary  says." 

The  age  of  which  I  am  about  to  retrace  the  history  is  most  important  for  our  own  generation.  Man,  when 
he  feels  his  weakness,  is  generally  inclined  to  seek  assistance  in  the  institutions  he  sees  standing  around  him, 
or  else  in  groundless  inventions  of  his  imagination.  The  history  of  the  Reformation  shows  that  nothing  new 
can  be  wrought  with  "  old  things,"  and  that  if,  according  to  the  Saviour's  word,  we  need  new  bottles  for 
new  wine,  we  need  also  new  wine  for  new  bottles.  The  history  of  the  Reformation  directs  men  to  God, 
who  orders  all  events  in  history  ;  to  that  divine  word,  ever  ancient  in  the  eternal  nature  of  the  truths  it  con- 
tains, ever  new  in  the  regenerative  influence  it  exercises — that  word  which,  three  centuries  ago,  purified  so- 
ciety,  brought  back  the  faith  of  God  to  souls  enfeebled  by  superstition,  and  which,  in  every  age  of  man's 
history,  is  the  source  whence  cometh  salvation. 

It  is  singular  to  observe  many  persons,  impelled  by  a  vague  desire  to  believe  in  something  settled,  address- 
!Hg  themselves  now-a-days  to  old  Catholicism.  In  one  view,  the  movement  is  natural.  Religion  is  so  littlo 
known  (in  France)  that  men  scarce  think  of  finding  it  elsewhere  than  where  they  see  it  inscribed  in  large 
letters  on  a  banner  that  time  has  made  venerable.  We  do  not  say  that  all  Catholicism  is  incapable  of  afford- 
ing to  man  what  he  stands  in  need  of.  We  think  Catholicism  should  be  carefully  distinguished  from  popery. 
Popery  is,  in  our  judgment,  an  erroneous  and  destructive  system  ;  but  we  are  far  from  confounding  Catholic- 
ism with  popery.  How  many  respectable  men,  how  many  sincere  Christians  has  not  the  Catholic  Church 
comprised  within  its  pale  !  What  important  services  were  rendered  by  Catholicism  to  the  existing  European 
nations,  in  the  age  of  their  first  formation,  at  a  period  when  itself  was  still  richly  imbued  with  the  Gospel,  and 
when  popery  was  as  yet  only  seen  behind  it  as  a  faint  shadow  !  But  those  times  are  past.  In  our  day, 
attempts  are  made  to  reconnect  Catholicism  with  popery ;  and  if  Catholic  and  Christian  truths  are  put  for- 
ward, they  are  but  as  baits  made  use  of  to  draw  men  into  the  net  of  the  hierarchy.  There  is,  therefore,  no- 
thing to  be  hoped  from  that  quarter.  Has  popery  renounced  so  much  as  one  of  its  observances,  of  its  doc- 
trines, or  of  its  claims  1  The  religion  which  was  insupportable  in  other  ages,  will  be  less  so  in  ours?'  What 
regeneration  has  ever  emanated  from  Rome!  Is  it  from  that  priestly  hierarchy,  full,  even  to  overflow,  of 
earthly  passions — that  that  spirit  of  faith,  of  charity,  of  hope  can  come  forth,  which  alone  can  save  us  ?  Can 
an  exhausted  system,  which  has  scarcely  strength  for  its  own  need,  and  is  everywhere  in  the  struggles  of  death, 
living  only  by  external  aids,  can  such  a  system  communicate  life,  and  breathe  throughout  Christian  society  the 
heavenly  breath  that  it  requires  ? 

This  craving  void  in  the  heart  and  mind  which  betrays  itself  in  our  contemporaries,  will  lead  others  to  apply 
to  that  modern  Protestantism  which  has,  in  many  parts,  taken  the  place  of  the  powerful  doctrines  of  Apostles 
and  Reformers'!  A  notable  uncertainty  of  doctrine  prevails  in  many  of  those  Reformed  churches  whose  first 
members  sealed  with  their  blood  the  clear  and  living  faith  that  animated  their  hearts.  Men,  distinguished  for 
their  information,  and,  in  all  other  things,  susceptible  of  generous  emotions,  are  found  carried  away  into  singu- 
lar aberrations.  A  vague  faith  in  the  divine  authority  of  the  Gospel  is  the  only  standard  they  will  maintain. 
But  what  is  this  Gospel  1  The  whole  question  turns  on  that ;  and  yet  on  that  they  are  silent,  or  else  each  one 
speaks  after  his  own  mind.  What  avails  it  to  know  that  God  has  placed  in  the  midst  of  the  nations  a  vessel 
containing  their  cure,  if  we  are  regardless  what  it  contains,  or  fail  to  appropriate  its  contents  to  ourselves  t 
This  system  cannot  fill  up  the  void  of  the  times.  While  the  faith  of  Apostles  and  Reformers  discovers  itself, 
at  this  day,  everywhere  active  and  effectual  for  the  conversion  of  the  world,  this  vague  system  does  nothing, 
throws  light  on  nothing,  vivifies  nothing. 

But  let  us  not  abandon  all  hopes.  Does  not  Catholicism  confess  the  great  doctrines  of  Christianity  1  does 
it  not  acknowledge  the  one  God,  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit — Creator,  Saviour,  and  Sanctifier?  And  that  vague 
Protestantism — does  it  not  hold  in  its  hand  the  book  of  life,  for  conviction  and  instruction  in  righteousness? 
And  how  many  upright  minds,  honoured  in  the  sight  of  men  and  beloved  of  God,  are  there  not  found  among 
those  subjected  to  these  two  systems !  How  can  we  help  loving  them  I  How  refrain  from  ardently  desiring 
their  complete  emancipation  from  human  elements'?  Charity  is  boundless;  it  embraces  the  most  distant 
opinions  to  lead  them  to  the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Already  there  are  indications  that  these  two  extreme  opinions  are  in  motion,  and  drawing  nearer  to  Jesus 
Christ,  who  is  the  centre  of  the  truth.  Are  there  not  already  some  Roman  Catholic  congregations  among 
whom  the  reading  of  the  Bible  is  recommended  and  practised?  and  as  to  Protestant  rationalism,  how  many 


viii  PREFACE. 

steps  has  it  not  already  taken  toward  Jesus  Christ  1  It  never  was  the  offspring  of  the  Reformation — for  the 
history  of  that  great  change  will  show  that  it  was  an  epoch  of  faith — but  may  we  not  be  permitted  to  hope 
that  it  is  drawing  nearer  to  it  ?  Will  not  the  power  of  the  truth  corne  forth  to  it  from  the  word  of  God  1  and 
will  not  its  coming  have  the  effect  of  transforming  it  ?  Already  we  often  see  in  it  a  feeling  of  religion,  in- 
adequate, no  doubt,  but  yet  a  movement  in  the  direction  of  sound  learning,  encouraging  us  to  look  for  more 
definite  advances. 

But  modern  Protestantism,  like  old  Catholicism,  is,  in  itself,  a  thing  from  which  nothing  can  be  hoped — a 
thing  quite  pwerless.  Something  very  different  is  necessary,  to  restore  to  men  of  our  day  the  energy  that 
saves.  A  something  is  requisite  which  is  not  of  man,  but  of  God.  "  Give  me,"  said  Archimedes,  "  a  point 
out  of  the  world,  and  I  will  raise  the  world  from  its  poles."  True  Christianity  is  this  standing  beyond  the 
world,  which  lifts  the  heart  of  man  from  its  double  pivot  of  selfishness  and  sensuality,  and  which  will  one  day 
move  the  whole  world  from  its  evil  way,  and  cause  it  to  turn  on  a  new  axis  of  righteousness  and  peace. 

Whenever  religion  has  been  the  subject  of  discussion,  there  have  been  three  points  to  which  our  attention 
have  been  directed.  God,  Man,  and  the  Priest.  There  can  be  but  three  kinds  of  religion  on  this  earth,  God, 
Man,  or  the  Priest,  is  its  author  or  its  head.  I  call  that  the  religion  of  the  Priest,  which  is  devised  by  the 
priest,  for  the  glory  of  the  priest,  and  in  which  a  priestly  caste  is  dominant.  I  apply  the  name  of  the  religion 
of  Man  to  those  systems  and  various  opinions  framed  by  man's  reason,  and  which,  as  they  are  the  offspring 
of  his  infirmity,  are,  by  consequence,  destitute  of  all  sanative  efficacy.  I  apply  the  words,  religion  of  God, 
to  the  Truth,  such  as  God  himself  has  given  it,  and  of  which  the  object  and  the  effect  are  God's  glory  and 
Man's  salvation. 

Hierarchism,  or  the  religion  of  the  priest ;  Christianity,  or  the  religion  of  God  ;  rationalism,  or  the  religion 
of  man  ;  such  are  the  three  doctrines  which,  in  our  day,  divide  Christendom.  There  is  no  salvation,  either 
for  man  or  society,  in  hierarchism  or  in  rationalism.  Christianity  alone  can  give  life  to  the  world ;  and,  un- 
happily, of  the  three  prevailing  systems,  it  is  not  that  which  numbers  most  followers. 

Some,  however,  it  has.  Christianity  is  operating  its  work  of  regeneration  among  many  Catholics  of  Ger- 
many, and  doubtless  also  of  other  countries.  It  is  now  accomplishing  it  with  more  purity,  and  power,  as  we 
think,  among  the  evangelical  Christians  of  Switzerland,  of  France,  of  Great  Britain,  and  of  the  United  States. 
Blessed  be  God,  such  individual  or  social  regenerations,  wrought  by  the  Gospel,  are  no  longer  in  these  days 
prodigies  to  be  sought  in  ancient  annals.  We  have  ourselves  witnessed  a  powerful  awakening,  begun  in  the 
midst  of  conflicts  and  trials,  in  a  small  republic,  whose  citizens  live  happy  and  tranquil  in  the  bosom  of  the 
wonders  with  which  creation  surrounded  them.*  It  is  but  a  beginning ;  and  already  from  the  plenteous  horn 
of  the  Gospel  we  see  come  forth  among  this  people  a  noble,  elevated,  and  courageous  profession  of  the  great 
truths  of  God  ;  a  liberty  ample  and  real,  a  government  full  of  zeal  and  intelligence  ;  an  affection,  elsewhere 
too  rarely  found,  of  magistrates  for  people,  and  of  the  people  for  their  magistrates  ;  a  powerful  impulse  com- 
municated to  education  and  general  instruction,  which  will  make  of  this  country  an  example  for  imitation  ;  a 
slow,  but  certain  amelioration  in  morals ;  men  of  talent,  all  Christians,  and  who  rival  the  first  writers  of  our 
language.  All  these  riches  developed  between  the  dark  Jura  and  the  summits  of  the  Alps,  on  the  magnificent 
shores  of  Lake  Leman,  must  strike  the  traveller  attracted  thither  by  the  wonders  of  those  mountains  and  val- 
leys, and  present  to  his  meditation  one  of  the  most  eloquent  pages  which  the  Providence  of  God  has  inscribed 
in  favour  of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ. 

It  is  the  history  of  the  Reformation  in  genet al  that  I  propose  to  write.  I  intend  to  trace  it  among  different 
nations — to  point  out  the  same  effects  of  the  same  truths — as  well  as  the  diversities  which  take  their  origin 
in  the  varieties  of  the  national  character.  But  it  is  in  Germany  especially  that  we  shall  see  and  describe  the 
history  of  the  Reformation.  It  is  there  we  find  its  primitive  type — it  is  there  that  it  offers  the  fullest  develop- 
ment of  its  organization.  It  is  there  that  it  bears,  above  all,  the  marks  of  a  revolution,  not  confined  to  one 
or  more  nations,  but,  on  the  contrary,  affecting  the  world  at  large.  The  German  Reformation  is  the  true  and 
fundamental  Reformation.  It  is  the  great  planet,  and  the  rest  revolve  in  wider  or  narrower  circles  around  it, 
like  satellites  drawn  after  it  by  its  movement.  And  yet  the  Reformation  in  SWITZERLAND  must,  in  some  res- 
pect, be  considered  as  an  exception,  both  because  it  took  place  at  the  very  time  as  that  of  Germany,  and  in- 
dependently of  it ;  and  because  it  bore,  especially  at  a  later  period,  some  of  those  grander  features  which  are 
seen  in  the  latter.  Notwithstanding  that  recollections  of  ancestry  and  of  refuge — and  the  memory  of  strug- 
gle, suffering,  and  exile,  endured  in  the  cause  of  the  Reformation  in  France — give,  in  my  view,  a  peculiar 
charm  to  the  history  of  its  vicissitudes.  I  nevertheless  doubt  whether  I  could  place  it  in  the  same  rank  as  those 
which  I  have  here  spoken  of. 

From  what  I  have  said,  it  will  be  seen  that  I  believe  the  Reformation  to  be  the  work  of  God.  Neverthe- 
less, as  its  historian,  I  hope  to  be  impartial.  I  think  I  have  spoken  of  the  principal  Roman  Catholic  actors  in 
the  great  drama,  Leo  X.,  Albert  of  Magdeburg,  Charles  V.,  and  Doctor  Eck,  &c.  more  favourably  than  the 
majority  of  historians.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  I  have  had  no  wish  to  conceal  the  faults  and  errors  of  the 
Reformers. 

This  history  has  been  drawn  from  the  original  sources  with  which  a  long  residence  in  Germany,  the  Low 
Countries,  and  Switzerland  has  made  me  familiar  ;  as  well  as  from  the  study,  in  the  original  language,  of 
documents  relating  to  the  religious  history  of  Great  Britain  and  other  countries.  Down  to  this  time  we  pos- 
sess no  history  of  that  remarkable  period.  Nothing  indicated  that  the  deficiency  would  ba  supplied  when  I 
commenced  this  work.  This  circumstance  could  alone  have  led  me  to  undertake  it;  and  I  here  allege  it  in 
my  justification.  The  want  still  exists;  and  I  pray  Him  from  whom  cometh  down  every  good  gift,  to  cause 
that  this  work  may,  by  his  blessing,  be  made  profitable  to  some  who  shall  read  it. 

*  Canton  of  VaucL 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  I.— PAGE  9. 

STATE   OP   EUROPE  PRIOR  TO  THE   REFORMATION. 

Rise  of  the  Papacy — 'Early  Encroachments — Co-operation  of  the  Bishops — Unity  of  the  Church — Visible 
Unity — Primacy  of  St.  Peter — Patriarchates — Policy  of  Rome — Charlemagne — Disorders  of  Rome — Hil- 
debrand — The  Crusades — Spiritual  Despotism — Salvation  by  Grace — Pelagianism — The  Church — Penance 
— Indulgences — Purgatory — Tax  of  Indulgences — The  Papacy  and  Christianity — Theology — Dialectics— 
Predestination — Penance — Religion — Relics — Morals — Corruption — Disorders  of  the  Priests — Bishops 
and  Popes — Alexander  VI — Caesar  Borgia — General  Corruption— Ciceronians — Efforts  for  Reform — Pros- 
pects of  Christianity — State  of  the  Papacy — Internal  Divisions — Carnality  of  the  Church — Popular  Feeling 
— Doctrine — Development  of  Mind — Revival  of  Letters — Philosophy — Principle  of  Reformation — Wit- 
nesses— Mystics — Wiclif — Huss — Witnesses — -The  Empire — Peace — State  of  the  People — State  of  Ger- 
many— Switzerland — Italy — Spain — Portugal — France — Low  Countries — England — Bohemia  and  Hun- 
gary— Frederic  the  Wise — Men  of  Letters — Reuchlin — His  Labours — Reuchlin  in  Italy — Contest  with 
the  Dominicans — The  Hebrew  Writings — Erasmus — Erasmus  and  Luther — Hiitten — Liter®  Obscurorum 
Virorum — Hiitten  at  Brussels — Sickingin — Cronberg — Hans  Sachs — General  Ferment. 

BOOK  II.— PAGE  33. 

THE  YOUTH,  CONVERSION,  AND  EARLY  LABOURS  OP  LUTHER. 

1483—1517. 

Luther's  Parents — Birth  of  Luther — Luther's  Early  Life — Magdeburg — His  Hardships — The  "  Shunamite  " 
— Recollections — The  University — Discovery — The  Bible — Mental  Agitation — Visit  to  Mansfeldt — Lu- 
ther's Resolution — The  Farewell — The  Convent — Humiliations — Endurance — His  Studies — Ascetic  Life 
— Mental  Struggle — Monastic  Tendencies — Staupitz — Staupitz  and  Luther — Present  of  a  Bible — The 
Aged  Monk — The  Change — Consecration — Luther  at  Eisleben — Invitation  to  Wittemberg — First  Instruc- 
tions— Lectures — Tiie  Old  Chapel — His  Preaching — Journey  to  Rome — Sickness  at  Bologna — Luther  in 
Rome — Effects  of  his  Journey — Pilates'  Stair-case — Confession  of  Faith — Luther  leaves  Home — Carlstadt 
— Luther's  Oath — Luther's  Courage — Attacks  the  Schoolrnon — Spalatin — Luther's  Faith — His  Preaching 
— Luther  on  Idolatry — On  Superstitions — His  Conduct — George  Spenlein — The  True  Righteousness — 
Luther  and  Erasmus — Christian  Charity — George  Leiffer — Luther's  Theses — His  Visitation — Plague  at 
Wittemberg — The  Elector  and  the  Relics — Spalatin — Duke  George — Luther's  Sermon — Eraser — The 
Supper— Free  Will — Theses— Nature  of  Man — Doctor  Eck — Urban  Regius— The  Theses  sent  to  Eck — 
Effect  of  the  Theses. 

BOOK  III.— PAGE  63. 

THE   INDULGENCES   AXD  THE   THESES. 
1517—1518. 

Tetzel — Confessions — The  Sale — Penance — Letter  of  Indulgence — Relaxations — A  Soul  in  Purgatory — The 
Shoemaker  of  Hagenau — Myconius — A  Stratagem — Opinions  of  the  People — The  Miser  of  Schneeberg — 
Leo  X. — Albert — Farming  Indulgences — Franciscans  and  Dominicans — Confession — A  Calumny  Refuted 
— Luther's  Sermon — The  Dream — Theses — Letter  to  Albert — Efforts  for  Reform — The  Bishops — Spread 
of  the  Theses — Reception  of  the  Theses — Effects  of  the  Theses — Myconius — Apprehension — Opposers  at 
Wittemberg — Luther's  Answer — Dejection  of  Luther — Motives — Tetzel's  Attack — Luther's  Answer — 
Luther's  Boldness — Luther  and  Spalatin — Study  of  the  Scriptures — Scheurl  and  Luther — Albert  Durer — 
Tetzel's  Reply — Disputation  at  Frankfort — Tetzel's  Theses — Luther's  Theses  Burned— Outcry  of  the 
Monks — Luther's  Composure — Tetzel's  Theses  Burned — The  higher  Clergy — Prierias — The  Romish 
System — The  Disciple  of  the  Bible — The  Doctrine  of  the  Reformation — Luther's  Reply  to  Prierias — 
Hochstraten — Doctor  Eck — The  "  Asterisks  " — Scheurl  Attempts  Reconciliation — Luther's  Tracts — 
"  Who  art  in  Heaven  " — "  Our  Daily  Bread  " — "  Remission  of  Sins  " — Effects  of  Luther's  Teaching — 
Luther's  Journey — The  Palatine  Castle — The  "  Paradoxes  " — The  Disputation — Its  Results — Bucer — 
Brentz-— The  Gospel  of  Heidelburg — Effect  on  Luther — The  Old  Professor — Return  to  Wittemberg. 

BOOK  IV.— PAGE  91. 

LUTHER  BEFORE  THE  LEGATE. 

May  to  December  1518. 

The  Pope — Leo  X — Luther  to  his  Bishop — Luther  to  the  Pope — Luther  to  the  Vicar-General — The  Cardi- 
nal to  the  Elector — Sermon  on  Excommunication — Luther's  Influence — Diet  at  Augsburg — The  Emperor 
and  the  Elector — Letters  to  the  Pope — Citation  of  Luther  to  Rome — Intercession  of  the  University — The 
Legate  Ue  Vio — The  Pope's  Brief — Luther's  Indignation-^The  Pope  to  the  Elector — George  Schwarzerd 
— Mclancthon — Luther  and  Melancthon — Staupitz  to  Spalatin — Luther's  Resolution — He  sets  out — At 
Nuremburg — Luther  at  Nurcrnburg — De  Vio — Serra  Longa  and  Luther — Return  of  Serra  Longa — Prior 
of  the  Carmelites — Serra  Longa — Luther  and  Serra  Longa — The  Safe  Conduct — Appearance  before  the 
Legate— First  Interview— De  Vio's  Proofs — Luther's  Replies— A  Proposal— Luther  and  De  Vio — Luther's 
Declaration — The  Legate's  Answer — Luther's  Request — Third  Conference— Luther's  Declaration — The 
Legate's  Answer— Luther's  Reply — The  Cardinal  Foiled — Rumours— De  Vio  and  Staupitz— Luther  to 
Carlstadt — The  Communion — Departure  of  Staupitz — Letter  to  the  Legate — Luther  and  the  Legate — 
Luiher's  Letter  to  the  Legate— His  Appeal — Luther's  Flight— Nuremburg — The  Legate  \s>  the  Elector — 
Luther  to  the  Elector— Graefenthal — Luther  to  Spalatin— Luther's  Intended  Departure— >A  Critical  Hour 
— Deliverance — Dissatisfaction  at  Rome — The  Pope's  Bull — Luther  Appeals  to  a  Council. 


x  CONTENTS. 

BOOK  V.— PAGE.  115. 

THE  LEIPSIC   DISCUSSION 1519. 

The  Pope's  Chamberlain — Luther  in  Danger — Favourable  Circumstances — Tetzel's  Fears — Miltitz's  Caresse 
Retractation — Luther  proposes  silence — The  Legate's  Kiss — Tetzel  Rebuked — Luther's  Letter — Oppo- 
sed to  Separation — De  Vio  and  Miltitz  at  Treves — The  Reformed  Opinions  Spread — Luther's  Writing 

Contest  seems  to  Flag — Eck — The  Pope's  Authority — Luther  Answers — Alarm  of  Luther's  Friends — 

Truth  Secure  of  Victory — The  Bishop's  Remonstrance — Mosellanus — Arrive  1  of  Eck — An  111  Omen — Eck 
and  Luther — The  Pleissenburg — Judges  Proposed — The  Procession — Luther — Carlstadt — Eck — Carl- 
stadt's  Books — Merit  of  Congruity — Scholastic  Distinction — Grace  gives  Liberty — Melancthon — Eck 
claims  Victory — Luther  Preaches — Quarrel  of  Students  and  Doctors — Eck  and  Luther — The  Roman  Pri- 
macy— Equality  of  Bishops — Christ  the  Foundation — Insinuation — The  Hussites — Commotion  in  the  Au- 
dience— Monkish  Horror — The  Indulgences — Attention  of  the  Laity — Eck's  Report — George  of  Anhalt 
— The  Students  of  Leipsic — Results  of  the  Disputation — More  Liberty — Activity  of  Eck — Melancthon's 
Defence — Firmness  of  Luther — Staupitz's  Coolness — Christ  given  for  us — Infatuation  of  the  Adversaries 
— The  Lord's  Supper — Is  Faith  Necessary — God's  Word  a  Sword — Luther's  Calmness. 

BOOK  VI.— PAGE  133. 

THE  ROMAN  BOLL,  1520. 

Candidates  for  the  Empire — Charles — Francis  I. — The  Crown  Offered  to  Frederic — Charles  Elected — Dan- 
gers— Frederic  to  the  Roman  Court — Luther's  Feelings — Melancthon's  Alarm — Schaumburg — Sickingen 
— Hutten — Luther's  Confidence — Faith,  the  Spring  of  Works — The  Author  of  Faith — Attack  on  the 
Papacy — The  Three  Barriers — All  Christians  Priests — Corruptions  of  Rome— Germany  in  Danger— Call 
for  Reform — Marriage  of  Priests — The  Empire — Conclusion — Success  of  the  Appeal — Rome — Policy  of 
Rome — Separation — The  Swiss  Priest — The  Roman  Consistory — Condemnation — Melancthon — Melanc- 
thon's Hearth — His  Studies — Melancthon's  Mother — The  Gospel  in  Italy — Lnthcr  on  the  Mass — "  Baby- 
lonian Captivity  "  of  the  Church — Baptism — No  other  Vows — MTltiU  at  Eisleben — Deputation  to  Luther 
— Conference  at  Lichtenberg— Luther's  Letter  to  the  Pope— Union  of  Christ  and  the  Believer— Arrival  of 
the  Bull  in  Germany — The  Students  of  Leipsic — Eck  at  Erfurth — Luther's  Feelings — The  Pirckheimer 
Family — Lulher — Ulric  Zwingle — Luther's  Answer — Fresh  Movements — The  Bonfire  of  Louvain — Lu- 
ther's Tranquility — Appeal  to  a  Council — Struggle — Burning  of  the  Pope's  Bull — Luther  and  the  Acade- 
my— Luther  and  the  Pope — Melancthon  to  the  States — Luther  Encourages  his  Friends — Melancthon  to  the 
Fearful — Luther's  Vocation — The  Bible  and  the  Doctors — Retractation — Aleander  the  Nuncio — The  Nun- 
cio and  the  Emperor — The  Nuncio  and  the  Elector — Duke  John's  Son  Intercedes — The  Elector  Protects 
Luther — The  Nuncio's  Answer — Erasmus  in  Cologne — Erasmus  and  the  Elector — Erasmus's  Declaration 
— Erasmus's  Advice — The  Confessional — Luther  on  Confession — Antichrist — Luther's  Cause  Gains 
Strength — Satires — Ulric  Von  Hutten — Carnival  at  Wittemberg — Staupilz  Alarmed — Luther's  Labours 
— Progress  of  the  Reformation. 

BOOK  VII.— PAGE  160. 

THE  DIET  OF  WORMS,   1521.       JANUARY  TO  MAY. 

Difficulties — Luther  Summoned  to  Worms — Public  Opinion — Efforts  of  Aleander — Fresh  Charges  Against 
Luther — Aleander  Rouses  Rome — The  Bull  Fulminated — Luther's  Motives — Political  Councils — The 
Confessor — And  the  Chancellor — Unavailing  Manoeuvres — Erasmus's  Declaration — The  Briefs — The 
Threats — The  Audience— Speech  of  Aleander— Rome's  Defence — Appeal  to  Charles— Effects  of  the  Nun- 
cio's Speech — Feelings  of  the  Princes — Duke  George's  Speech — Character  of  the  Reformation — Charles 
Gives  Way — Public  Opinion — Luther's  Serenity — Death  and  no  Retractation — Summons — Safe-Conduct 
— Fears  of  the  Elector — Holy  Thursday  at  Rome — The  Pope  and  Luther — Luther's  Courage — Bugenhagen 
— Persecution  in  Pomerania — Amsdorff — Schurff — Huiten  to  Charles  V. — Luther's  Farewell — Luther  at 
Weimar — Cavalcade  of  Erfurth — Justus  Jonas — Preaches  at  Erfurth — Faith  and  Works — The  People  and 
Luther — Luther  to  Spalatin — A  Stratagem — Luther's  Resolution — Enters  Worms — Death  Song — Capito 
and  the  Temporisers — Citation — His  Prayer — The  Strength  of  the  Reformation — Luther  Repairs  to  the 
Diet — The  Diet — Luther  is  Encouraged — Luther's  Answer — Luther's  Prudence — The  Spaniards — Lu- 
ther's Vow — Luther  Again  Before  the  Diet — Luther's  Speech — Requires  Proof  of  Error — A  Warning 
Voice — Repeats  his  Speech  in  Latin — New  Attempt — Calm  in  the  Midst  of  Tumult — Duke  Eric's  Offer- 
ing— The  Elector  and  Spalatin — The  Emperor's  Message — The  Safe-Conduct  in  Danger — Enthusiasm  for 
Luther — Conciliation — Concourse  to  Luther — Phillip  of  Hesse — Conference  at  Abp.  of  Treves — WVne's 
Exhortation — Private  Conversation — Cochlaeus's  Proposal — Bursting  of  the  Wine  Glass — Conference  at 
the  Hotel — Final  Conference  with  the  Archbishop— End  of  the  Negociations — Luther  Ordered  to  Quit 
Worms — Luther's  Departure  from  Worms — His  Letter  to  Cranach — Luther's  Letter  to  Charles  V. — The 
Curate  of  Eisenach — Charles  Signs  the  Decree  Against  Luther — The  Edict  of  Worms — Luther  Among 
his  Relations— The  Ways  of  God— The  Wartburg— The  Reformation  Under  a  Cloud. 

BOOK  VIII.— PAGE   189. 
THE  swiss— 1484— 1522. 

Democracy — Mercenary  Service — The  Cottage  of  Wildhaus — The  Herdsman's  Family — Young  Ulric — Ulric 
at  Bale — Ulric  at  Berne — Jetzer  and  the  Ghost — Jetzer's  Visions — Exposure  of  the  Dominicans — Passion 
for  Music — Wittembach — Schinner — Tho  Labyrinth — Zwingle  in  Italy — Principals  of  the  Reformation — 
Zwingle's  Studies — Zwingle's  Classical  Studies — Paris  and  Claris — Oswald  Myconius — QEcolampadins — 
Zwingle  and  Marignan — Alarm  of  the  Pope — Dawn  of  the  Reformation — Effects  of  the  Defeat  at  Marignan 
— The  Two  Worlds — Our  Lady  of  the  Eremites — A  Learned  Society— Zwingle  Transcribes  the  Scrip- 
tures— Zwingle  Opposes  Error — Effects  of  his  Preaching — Zwingle  and  the  Legate — The  Bishop  of  Con- 
stance'— Staffer  and  Zwingle — The  Preachership — The  Candidates — Zwingle's  Confession — Zwingle 
Elected — Leaves  Einsidlen — Reception  by  the  Chapter — Zwingle's  Mode  of  Lecturing — Zwingle  opens 


CONTENTS.  xi 

the  Gospel — Effects  of  his  Preaching — Opposition — Familiar  Manner — Love  of  Music — Imitation  of  Christ 
— The  Colporteur — Samson  at  Berne — The  Dean  of  Bremgarten — Henry  Bullinger — Samson  and  the 
Dean— Zwingle's  Studies— Samson  and  the  Hevetic  Diet— The  Baths  of  Pfeffers — The  Critical  Moment 
— Zwingle  Attacked  by  the  Plague — His  Sick  Bed  and  Hymn — General  Joy — The  Adversaries — Effect  of 
the  Visitation — Myconius  and  Xyloctect — Myconius  goes  to  Lucerne — Capido  and  Hedio — Opposition  of 
the  Monks — The  Unnatural  Son — Zwingle's  Gentleness — Fall  and  Recovery  of  Man — Expiation  of  the 
God-man — No  Merit  in  Good  Works — Power  of  Love  for  Christ — Effects  of  his  Preaching — Dejection 
and  Courage— Zwinglo  and  Staheli— Violent  Attacks — The  Reformer  of  Berne — Halfer's  Dejection — 
Oswald  Persecuted — H.  Bullinger — Gerold  Von  Knonau — Rouhli  at  Bale — War  Between  Francis  and 
Charles — Foreign  Service  of  the  Swiss — Ferment — Truth  Triumphs  Amidst  Opposition — The  Bishop's 
Deputies — The  Councils — The  Parties  Confronted — The  Coadjutor  and  Zwingle — Zwingle's  Answer — 
Hofrnan's  Charge — Zwingle's  Reply — The  Bishop's  Mandates — The  Archeteles — The  Bishop  Appeals  to 

the  Diet — Zwingle  and  the  Monks — The  Nuns  of  Oetenbach — Defeat  of  Bicocca — Francis  Lambert 

Preaches  at  Zurich — The  Commander  of  the  Johannites— Carnival  at  Berne — The  "  Feeders  Upon  the 
Dead  " — The  Scull  of  St.  Ann — Appenzel — Adultery  and  Murder — Zwingle's  Marriage — Meeting  at 
Eiasidlen — Petition  to  the  Bishop — The  Meeting  at  Einsidlen  Breaks  Up — A  Scene  in  a  Convent — Mycon- 
ius at  Lucerne — Effects  of  the  Petition — The  Council  and  the  Diet — Friburg — Treatment  of  Oswald—- 
Oswald Encouraged — Oswald  Quits  Lucerne — Zwingle's  Family  Alarmed — His  Resolution — Zwingle's 
Prayer. 

BOOK  IX.— PAGE  226. 

Aspect  of  the  Church — Effects  of  Luther's  Teaching — Wisdom  of  God — Agitation  of  the  People — Luther 
and  Melancthon — Tidings  of  Luther's  Safety — The  Imperial  Edict  Powerless — The  "  Knight  George  " — 
A  Safe  Solitude — Luther's  Sickness — Alarm  of  his  Friends — The  Confessional — Luther's  Health — Feld- 
kirchen's  Marriage — Marriage  of  Priests — And  of  Friars — Monkery — Luther  on  Monastic  Vows — Dedica- 
tion to  His  Father — Sale  of  Indulgences  Resumed — Luther's  Letter  to  Spalatin — Luther  to  the  Cardinal 
Elector — Effect  of  the  Reformer's  Letter — Albert  to  Luther — Joachim  of  Brandenburg — "  The  Last  shall 
be  First — Luther's  Fitness  for  the  Work — Of  Translating  the  Scriptures — Luther  and  Satan — Luther 
Quits  the  Wartburg— The  Sorbonne— Luther's  Visit  to  Wittemburg— Progress  of  the  Reformation— The 
Monk  Gabriel — Interference  of  the  Elector — Frederic's  Caution — Attack  on  Monkery — Thirteen  Monks 
Quit  the  Convent — The  Cordeliers  Threatened — Decision  of  Monastic  Vows — Carlstadt's  Zeal — The  Lord's 
Supper — Town  Council  of  Wittemburg — Errors  of  Popery — Fanatics  of  Zwickau — The  New  Prophet — 
Nicolas  Hussman — Melancthon  and  Stubner — Melancthon's  Perplexity — Carlstadt's  Zeal — Contempt  of 
Learning — Occupations  of  the  Elector — Luther's  Dejection — His  Test  of  Inspiration — Edict  of  the  Diet 
— Luther  Leaves  the  Wartburg — Primitive  Church — Two  Swiss  Students — A  Strange  Knight — Supper  at 
the  Inn — Luther  on  his  Journey — Letter  to  the  Elector — Reception  at  Wittemburg — Meditation — Luther 
Preaches — Faith  and  Love — God's  Way — Luther  on  the  Lord's  Supper — Effect  of  Luther's  Sermons — 
Luther's  Moderation  and  Courage — Stubner  and  Cellarius — Order  Restored — Scripture  and  Faith — The 
Visionary  Pen — Publication  of  the  New  Testament — Effects  of  Luther's  Translation — The  "  Loci  Com- 
munes "—Original  Sin— Free  Will— Knowledge  of  Christ— Effect  of  Melancthon's  Tract — Henry  VIII — 
Catherine  of  Arragon — Bishop  Fisher  and  Sir  Thomas  More — Cardinal  Wolsey — Henry  VIII.  writes 
against  Luther — Royal  Theology — The  King's  Vanity — Luther's  Indignation — His  Reply  to  Henry  VIII 
— Literary  Courtesy — More's  Attack  upon  Luther — Henry's  Attachment  to  More — Henry's  Letter — 
Spread  of  the  Reformation— The  Augustine  Monks — The  Franciscans— The  People  and  the  Priests— The 
New  Preachers — Power  of  the  Scriptures — Religion  and  Literature — The  Press — Spread  of  Luther's 
Writings — Luther  at  Zwickau— Duke  Henry— Ibach  expelled— Diffusion  of  the  Light — University  of  Wit- 
temburg— Principles  of  the  Reformation — Transition  State  of  the  Church. 

BOOK  X  —PACK.  259. 

Movement  in  Germany— War  between  Francis  I.  and  Charles  V — Inigo  Lopez  dc  Reculde — Siege  of  Pam- 
pelnna — Loyola's  Armed  Vigil — Enters  a  Dominican  Convent — Mental  Distress — "  Strong  Delusions  "— 
"  Belief  of  a  Lie  " — Amusement  of  the  Pope — Death  of  Leo  X— Character  of  Adrian  VI— The  Pope  at- 
tempts a  Reformation — Opposition  at  Rome — Designs  against  Luther — Diet  at  Nuremburg — Osiander  at 
Nuremburg— The  Pope's  Candour — Resolution  of  the  Diet— Grievances— The  Pope  to  the  Elector— 
The  Pope's  Brief— The  Princes  fear  the  Pope— "  The  Fiery  Trial  " — "The  Failing  Mines" — The  Au- 
gustine Convent — Mirisch  and  Probst — Persecution  at  Miltenbnrg — The  Inquisitors  and  the  Confessors — 
The  Fate  of  Lambert — Luther's  Sympathy — Hymn  on  the  Martyrs — The  Legate  Campeggio — Evasion  of 
the  Edict  of  Worms — Alarm  of  the  Pope — The  Dukes  of  Bavaria — Conference  at  Ratisbon — Subtle  De- 
vices— Results  of  the  Ratisbon  League — The  Emperor's  Edict — Martyrdom  of  Gaspard  Tauher — Cruelties 
in  Wtirtemburor — Persecution  in  Bavaria — Fanaticism  in  Holstein — The  Prior  and  the  Regent — Martyr- 
dom of  Henry  Zuphten — Luther  and  Carlstadt — Opinions  on  the  Lord's  Supper — Carlstadt  Leaves  Wit- 
temburg— Luther  at  Jena — Luther  and  Carlstadt — Luther  at  Orlamund — Interview  at  Orlamund — On  the 
Worship  of  Images — Carlstadt  Banished — Carlstadl  Retires  to  Strasburg — Assembly  at  Spires — Abridg- 
ment of  the  Reformed  Doctrine — Albert  of  Brandenburg — The  Word  of  God  Not  Bound—All  Saints' 
Church — Abolition  of  the  Mass — Nature  of  Christianity — Letter  to  Councillors — On  the  Use  of  Learning 
— Religion  and  the  Arts — Essence  of  Christianity — Music  and  Poetry — Abuses  of  Painting — Insurrection 
of  the  Peasantry — The  Reformation  and  Revolt— Fanaticism— "  The  Spirit " — Miinzcr  Preaches  Revolt 
• — Liberty  of  Conscience — Luther's  View  of  the  Revolt — Luther  to  the  Peasantry — Murder  of  Count  Hel- 
fenstein — Warlike  Exhortation— Gotz  of  Berlichingen— "  Radical  Reform  " — Defeat  of  the  Rebels— Mfln- 
zer  at  Mulhausen— Anxieties  at  Wittemburg — The  Landgrave  Takes  up  Arms — Defeat  and  Death  of 
Mvinzer— Thirteenth  Article— Luther  Calumniated— Rise  of  the  New  Church—The  Revolt  and  the  Re- 
formation— The  Last  Days  of  the  Elector  Frederic — The  Elector  and  the  Reformer— Duke  George's 
Confederacy— The  Nuns  of  Nimptsch— Catherine  Bora— The  Deserted  Convent— Luther's  Thoughts  on 


xii 


CONTENTS. 


Matrimony — Luther's  Marriage — Domestic  Happiness — The  Elector  John — The  Landgrave  Philip — Po- 
liander's  Hymn — New  Ordination — Diet  at  Augsburg — League  of  T orgau — The  Evangelic  Union — The 
Rulers  Take  Counsel  Together  " — The  Emperor's  Message— The  Reformation  and  the  Papacy. 

BOOK  XI.— PAGE  290. 

Spiritual  Slavery — Christian  Liberty — Effect  of  the  Gospel  on  Zwingle — Leo  Judah-  at  Zurich — The  Chal- 
lenge— Zwingle  and  Faber — Zwingle  Tempted  by  the  Pope — "  Zwingle's  Pu  ^ion  *' — Tract  against  Ima- 
ges— Wooden  Idols — The  Unterwalders — Public  Meeting — Hoffman's  Defence  of  the  Pope — The  Mass 
— Schmidt  of  Kussnacht — Results  of  the  Conference — Oswald  Myconius  at  Zurich — Thomas  Plater — 
The  Swiss  Aroused — Hottinger  Arrested — His  Martyrdom — Persecution  Invoked — Swiss  and  German 
Reformations — The  Jewish  and  Pagan  Elements — Zwingle's  and  Luther's  Tasks — The  Council  and  the 
People — Abduction  of  (Exlin — Riot  and  Conflagration — The  Wirths  arrested — The  Prisoners  Surrender- 
ed— A  Spectacle  to  the  World — "Cruel  Mockmgs" — "  Faithful  unto  Death" — Father  and  Son  on  the 
Scaffold — Abolition  of  the  Mass — The  Lord's  Supper — Brotherly  Love — Zwingle  on  Original  Sin — Attack 
upon  Zwingle — The  Gospe!  at  Berne — Heim  and  Haller — Ordinance  of  the  Government  —St.  Michael's 
Nunnery — The  Convent  of  Konigsfeld — Margaret  Watteville's  Letter — Liberation  of  the  Nuns — Pretend- 
ed Letter  of  Zwingle — Clara  May  ana  Nicholas  Watteville — The  Seat  of  Learning — CEcolampadius — 
Flight  from  the  Convent — CEcolampadius  at  Basle — Jealousy  of  Erasmus — Hiitten  and  Erasmus — Death 
of  Hiitten — Vacillation  tmd  Decision — Erasmus's  Quatrain — Luther's  Letter  to  Erasmus — Motives  of 
Erasmus  in  Opposing  the  Reformation — Lamentations  of  Erasmus — Arguments  for  Free  Will — Prema- 
ture Exultation— A  Test — God's  Working — Jansenism— The  Bible  and  Philosophy — The  Three  Days* 
Battle — Character  of  False  Systems — Conrad  Grebel — Extravagances — "  The  Little  Jerusalem  " — The 
Anabaptist  Feast — Horrible  Tragedy — Discussion  on  Baptism — Opinions  not  Punishable' — Popish  Immo- 
bility— Zwingle  and  Luther — Zwingle  on  the  Lord's  Supper—  Consubstantiation — Luther's  Great  Principle 
— Carlstadt's  Writings  Prohibited — Zwingle's  Commentary — The  Suabian  Syngramma — Need  of  Union 
in  Adversity — Struggles  of  the  Reformation — Tumult  in  the  Tockenhurg — Meeting  at  Ilantz — Comman- 
der's Defence — Doctrine  of  the  Sacrament — Proposed  Public  Discussion — Decision  of  the  Diet — Zwin^lo 
in  Danger — The  Disputants  at  Baden — Contrast  of  the  Parties — Eck  and  CEcolampadius — Zwingle's 
Share  in  the  Contest — Murner  of  Lucerne — Haller  and  the  Council  of  Berne — Reformation  in  St.  Gall — 
Conrad  Pellican — The  Mountaineers — Alliance  with  Austria — Farel  Appears. 

BOOK  XII.— PAGE  320. 

THE   FRENCH. 1500 1526. 

The  Reformation  in  France — Persecution  of  the  Vaudois — Birthplace  of  Farel — La  Saint  Croix — The 
Priest's  Wizard— Farel's  Superstitious  Faith— The  Chevalier  Bayard— Louis  XII — The  Two  Valois — 
Lefevre — His  Devotion — Farel's  Reverence  for  the  Pope — Farel  and  the  Bible — Gleams  of  Light — Le- 
fevre  Turns  to  St.  Paul — Lefevre  on  Works — University  Amusements — Faith  and  Works — Paradoxical 
Truth — Farel  and  the  Saints — Allman  Refutes  De  Vio — Pierre  Olivetan — Happy  Change  in  Farel — In- 
dependence and  Priority — Of  the  Reformation  in  France — Francis  of  Angouleme — Two  Classes  of  Com- 
batants— Margaret  of  Valois — Talents  of  the  Queen  of  Navarre — The  Bishop  and  the  Bible — Francis  En- 
courages Learning — Margaret  Embraces  the  Gospel — Poetical  Effusions — Of  the  Duchess  of  Alencon — 
Margaret's  Danger — Violence  of  Beda — Louis  Berquin — Opposition  to  the  Gospel — The  Concordat — The 
Concordat  Resisted — Fanaticism  and  Timidity — The  Three  Maries — Beda  and  the  University — The  King 
and  the  Sorbonne — Briconnet  in  His  Diocese — The  Bishop  and  the  Curates — Martial  Mazurier — Marga- 
ret's Sorrows — Strength  under  Trial — Death  of  Philibert  of  Nemours — Alone,  Not  Lonely — The  Wander- 
ing Sheep — Briconnet's  Hope  and  Prayer — Sufficiency  of  the  Scriptures — Lefevre's  French  Bible — The 
People  "Turned  Aside" — Church  of  Landouzy — The  Gospel  and  the  French  Court — Margaret's  Lamen- 
tations— Briconnet  Preaches  Against  the  Monks — Two  Despotisms — Briconnet  Draws  Back — Leclerc  the 
Wool-Comber — Leclerc's  Zeal  and  Sufferings — A  Mother's  Faith  and  Love — Secret  Meetings  for  Wor- 
ship— Berquin  Imprisoned  by  the  Parliament — Charges  Against  Berquin — Liberated  by  the  King — Pa- 
•vanne's  Recantation  and  Remorse — Zeal  of  Leclerc  and  Chatelain — Peter  Toussaint — Leclerc  Breaks  the 
Images — Uproar  among  the  People — Martyrdom  of  Leclerc  and  Chatehin — The  Gospel  Expelled  from 
Gap — Anemond's  Zeal — Farel  Preaches  to  His  Countrymen — Pierre  De  Sebville — Anemond  Visits  Lu- 
ther—Luther's Letter  to  the  Duke  of  Savoy — Farel's  Arrival  in  Switzerland — CEcolampadius  and  Farel — 
Cowardice  of  Erasmus — French  Frankness — "  Balaam  " — Farel's  Propositions — Faith  and  Scripture — The 
Reformation  Defended — Visits  Strasburg — Ordination  of  Farel — Apostolical  Succession — Farel  at  Mont- 
beliard — The  Gospel  at  Lyons — Anthony  Papillon — Sebville  Persecuted — Secret  Meeting  at  Grenoble — 
Effects  of  the  Battle  of  Pavia — Trial  and  Arrest  of  Maigret — Evangelical  Association — Need  of  Unity — 
Christian  Patriotism— Influence  of  Tracts — The  New  Testament  in  French — Bible  and  Tract  Societies — 
Farel  at  Montbeliard— Oil  and  Wine — Toussaint's  Trials — Farel  and  Anemond— The  Image  c,f  Saint 
Anthony — Death  of  Anemond — Defeat  and  Captivity  of  Francis  I — Consternation  of  the  French— Oppo- 
sers  of  the  Faith — The  Queen-Mother  and  the  Sorbonne— Cry  for  "Heretical"  Blood — Parliament  Esta- 
blishes the  Inquisition — Charges  Against  Briconnet — Cited  Before  the  Inquisition — Dismay  of  the  Bishop 
— Refused  a  Trial  by  His  Peers— Briconnet's  Temptation  and  Fall — Retractation  of  Briconnet- — Compar- 
ed with  Lefevre — Beda  Attacks  Lefevre — Lefevre  at  Strasburg — Meets  Farel — Berquin  Imprisoned — 
Erasmus  Attacked  by  the  Monks  and  the  Sorbonne — Appeals  to  the  Parliament  and  the  King — More  Vic- 
tims in  Lorraine — Bonaventure  Renne! — Courage  of  Pastor  Schuch —Martyrdom  of  Schuch — Peter  Caroli 
and  Beda — The  Martyrdom  of  James  Pavanne — The  Hermit  of  Livry — Seized  and  Condemned — Resour- 
ces of  Providence — John  Calvin — The  Family  of  Mommor — Calvin's  Parentage — Calvin's  Childhood — 
His  Devotion  to  Study — Infant  Ecclesiastics — Calvin  Proceeds  to  Paris — Reformation  of  Language — Pro- 
testant France — System  of  Terror— The  "  Babylonish  Captivity  " — Toussaint  Goes  to  Paris — Tonssaint 
in  Prison — "  Not  accepting  Deliverance  " — Spread  of  Persecution — Project  of  Margaret — For  the  Delive- 
rance of  Francis — Margaret's  Resolution — She  Sails  for  Spain. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


BOOK  I. 

STATE  OF  EUROPE  PRIOR  TO  THE  REFORMATION. 

THE  world  was  tottering  on  its  old  foundations  when 
Christianity  appeared.  The  various  religions  which 
had  sufficed  for  an  earlier  age,  no  longer  satisfied  the 
nations.  The  mind  of  the  existing  generation  could 
no  longer  tabernacle  in  the  ancient  forms.  The  gods 
of  the  nations  had  lost  their  oracles — as  the  nations  had 
lost  their  liberty  in  Rome.  Brought  face  to  face  in  the 
capitol,  they  had  mutually  destroyed  the  illusion  of  their 
divinity.  A  vast  void  had  ensued  in  the  religious 
opinions  of  mankind. 

A  kind  of  deism,  destitute  of  spirit  and  vitality, 
hovered  for  a  time  over  the  abyss  in  which  had  been 
ingulfed  the  superstitions  of  heathenism.  But,  like 
all  negative  opinions,  it  had  no  power  to  edify.  The 
narrow  prepossessions  of  the  several  nations  had  fallen 
with  the  fall  of  their  gods — their  various  populations 
melted,  the  one  into  the  other.  In  Europe,  Asia, 
Africa,  all  was  but  one  vast  empire,  and  the  human 
family  began  to  feel  its  comprehensiveness  and  its  unity. 
Then  the  Word  was  made  flesh. 
God  appeared  among  men,  and  as  Man,  to  save  that 
which  was  lost.  In  Jesus  of  Nazareth  dwelt  all  the 
fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily. 

This  is  the  greatest  event  in  the  annals  of  all  time. 
The  former  ages  had  been  a  preparation  for  it ;  the  lat- 
ter unroll  from  it.  It  is  their  centre  and  connecting  link. 
From  this  period  the  popular  superstitions  had  no 
significancy,  and  such  feeble  relics  of  them  as  outlived 
the  general  wreck  of  incredulity,  vanished  before  the 
majestic  orb  of  eternal  truth. 

The  son  of  Man  lived  thirty-three  years  on  this  earth. 
He  suffered,  he  died,  he  rose  again — he  ascended  into 
heaven.  'His  disciples,  beginning  at  Jerusalem,  tra- 
velled over  the  Roman  Empire  and  the  world,  every- 
where proclaiming  their  Master  the  author  of  everlasting 
salvation.  From  the  midst  of  a  people  who  rejected 
intercourse  with  others,  proceeded  a  mercy  that  invited 
and  embraced  all.  A  great  number  of  Asiatics,  of 
Greeks,  of  Romans,  hitherto  led  by  the  priests  to  the 
feet  of  dumb  idols,  believed  at  their  word.  "  The 
Gospel  suddenly  beamed  on  the  earth  like  a  ray  of  the 
sun,"  says  Eusebius.  A  breath  of  life  moved  over  this 
vast  field  of  death.  A  new,  a  holy  people  was  formed 
upon  the  earth  ;  and  the  astonished  world  beheld  in  the 
disciples  of  the  despised  Galilean,  a  purity,  a  self-denial, 
a  charity,  a  heroism,  of  which  they  retained  no  idea. 

The  new  religion  had  two  features  among  many 
others  which  especially  distinguished  it  from  all  the 
human  systems  which  fell  before  it.  One  had  reference 
to  the  ministers  of  its  worship,  the  other  to  its  doctrines. 
The  ministers  of  paganism  were  almost  the  gods  of 
those  human  inventions.  The  priests  led  the  people, 
so  long  at  least  as  their  eyes  were  not  opened.  A  vast 
and  haughty  hierarchy  oppressed  the  world.  Jesus 
Christ  dethroned  these  living  idols,  abolished  this  proud 
hierarchy,  took  from  man  what  man  had  taken  from 
God,  and  re-established  the  soul  in  direct  communica- 
tion with  the  divine  fountain  of  truth,  by  proclaiming 
himself  the  only  Master  and  the  only  Mediator.  "  One 
is  your  master,  even  Christ,  (said  he,)  and  all  ye  are 
brethren."  Matt.  23. 

As  to  doctrine,  human  religions  had  taught  that  sal- 
vation was  of  man.     Tho  religions  of  the  earth  had 
invented  an  earthly  salvatioa.     They  had  taught  men 
B 


that  heaven  would  be  given  to  them  as  a  reward  ;  they 
had  fixed  its  price,  and  what  a  price  !  The  religion  of 
God  taught  that  salvation  was  His  gift,  and  emanated 
from  an  amnesty  and  sovereign  grace.  God  hath  given 
to  us  eternal  life.  1  John  5:11. 

Undoubtedly  Christianity  cannot  be  summed  up  in 
these  two  points :  but  they  seem  to  govern  the  sub- 
ject, especially  when  historically  viewed.  And  as  it 
is  impossible  to  trace  the  opposition  between  truth  and 
error  in  all  things,  we  have  selected  its  most  prominent 
features. 

Such  were  the  two  principles  that  composed  the 
religion  which  then  took  possession  of  the  empire  and 
of  the  whole  world.  The  standing  of  a  Christian  is  in 
them  ;  and,  apart  from  them,  Christianity  itself  disap- 
pears. On  their  preservation  or  their  loss  depended 
its  decline  or  its  growth.  One  of  these  principles  was 
to  govern  the  history  of  the  religion,  the  other  its  doc- 
trine. They  both  presided  in  the  beginning.  Let  us 
see  how  they  were  lost :  and  let  us  first  trace  the  fate 
of  the  former. 

The  Church  was,  in  the  beginning,  a  community  of 
brethren.  All  its  members  were  taught  of  God  ;  and 
each  possessed  the  liberty  of  drawing  for  himself  from 
the  divine  fountain  of  life.  John  6  :  45.  The  epistles, 
which  then  settled  the  great  questions  of  doctrine,  did 
not  bear  the  pompous  title  of  any  single  man  or  ruler. 
We  find  from  the  Holy  Scriptures  that  they  began  sim- 
ply with  these  words  :  "  The  apostles,  elders,  and  bre- 
thren, to  our  brethren."  Acts  15  :  23. 

But  the  writings  of  these  very  apostles  forewarn  us 
that  from  the  midst  of  these  brethren  there  shall  arise 
a  power  which  shall  overthrow  this  simple  and  primitive 
order.  2  Thess.  2. 

Let  us  contemplate  the  formation,  and  trace  the 
developement,  of  this  power  alien  to  the  Church. 

Paul  of  Tarsus,  one  of  the  chiefest  apostles  of  the 
new  religion,  had  arrived  at  Rome,  the  capital  of  the 
empire  and  of  the  world,  preaching  the  salvation  that 
corneth  from  God  only.  A  church  was  formed  beside 
the  throne  of  the  Caesars.  Founded  by  this  same 
apostle,  it  was  at  first  composed  of  converted  Jews, 
Greeks,  and  some  inhabitants  of  Rome.  For  a  while 
it  shone  brightly,  as  a  light  set  upon  a  hill,  and  its  faith 
was  everywhere  spoken  of.  But  'ere  long  it  declined 
from  its  first  simplicity.  The  spiritual  dominion  of 
Rome  arose  as  its  political  and  military  power  had  done 
before,  and  was  slowly  and  gradually  extended. 

The  first  pastors  or  bishops  of  Rome  employed  them- 
selves in  the  beginning  in  converting  to  the  faith  of 
Christ  the  towns  and  villages  that  surrounded  the  city. 
The  necessity  which  the  bishops  and  pastors  felt  of 
referring,  in  cases  of  difficulty,  to  an  enlightened  guide, 
and  the  gratitude  which  they  owed  to  the  metropolitan 
church,  led  them  to  maintain  an  intimate  union  with 
ler.  As  is  generally  the  consequence  in  such  circum- 
stances, this  reasonable  union  soon  degenerated  into 
dependance.  The  bishops  of  Rome  regarded  as  a  right 
the  superiority  which  the  neighbouring  churches  had 
voluntarily  yielded.  The  encroachments  of  power  form 
a  large  portion  of  all  history :  the  resistance  of  those 
whose  rights  are  invaded,  forms  the  other  part :  and 
the  ecclesiastical  power  could  not  escape  that  intoxica- 
tion which  leads  those  who  are  lifted  up  to  seek  to  raise 
themselves  still  higher.  It  felt  all  the  influence  of  this 
general  weakness  of  human  nature. 

Nevertheless,  the  supremacy  of  the  Roman  bishop  was 


10 


CO-OPERATION  OF  THE  BISHOPS— VISIBLE  UNITY. 


at  first  limited*  to  the  overlooking  of  the  churches  in 
the  territory  lawfully  subject  to  the  Prefect  of  Rome. 
But  the  rank  which  this  imperial  city  held  in  the  world 
offered  to  the  ambition  of  its  first  pastors  a  prospect  of 
wider  sway.  The  consideration  which  the  different 
Christian  bishops  enjoyed  in  the  second  century  was 
in  proportion  to  the  rank  of  the  city  over  which  they 
presided.  Rome  was  the  greatest,  the  richest,  and  the 
most  powerful  city  in  the  world.  It  was  the  seat  of 
empire,  the  mother  of  nations.  "  All  the  inhabitants 
of  the  earth  arc  hers,"t  said  Julian,  and  Claudian  de- 
clares her  to  be  "  the  fountain  of  laws."t 

If  Rome  be  the  queen  of  cities,  why  should  not  her 
pastor  be  the  king  of  bishops  1  Why  should  not  the 
Roman  church  be  the  mother  of  (Christendom  1  Why 
should  not  all  nations  be  her  children,  and  her  authority 
be  the  universal  lawl  It  was  natural  to  the  heart  of 
man  to  reason  thus.  Ambitious  Rome  did  so. 

Hence  it  was  that,  when  heathen  Rome  fell,  she 
bequeathed  to  the  humble  minister  of  the  God  of  peace, 
seated  in  the  midst  of  her  own  ruins,  the  proud  titles 
which  her  invincible  sword  had  won  from  the  nations 
of  the  earth. 

The  bishops  of  the  other  parts  of  the  empire,  yield- 
ing to  the  charm  that  Rome  had  exercised  for  ages  over 
all  nations,  followed  the  example  of  the  Campagna,  and 
aided  the  work  of  usurpation.  They  willingly  rendered 
to  the  Bishop  of  Rome  something  of  that  honour  which 
was  due  to  this  queen  of  cities  :  nor  was  there  at  first 
anything  of  dependance  in  the  honour  thus  yielded. 
They  acted  toward  the  Roman  pastor  as  equals  toward 
an  equal  ;9  but  usurped  power  swells  like  the  avalanche. 
Exhortations,  at  first  simply  fraternal,  soon  became 
commands  in  the  mouth  of  the  Roman  pontiff.  A  chief 
place  among  equals  appeared  to  him  a  throne. 

The  bishops  of  the  west  favoured  this  encroachment 
of  the  Roman  pastors,  either  from  jealousy  of  the  eas- 
tern bishops,  or  because  they  preferred  subjection  to  a 
pope  to  the  dominion  of  a  temporal  power. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  theological  sects  which  dis- 
tracted the  east  strove,  each  for  itself,  to  gain  an  in- 
terest at  Rome,  hoping  to  triumph  over  its  opponents 
by  the  support  of  the  principal  of  the  western  churches. 

Rome  carefully  recorded  these  requests  and  inter- 
cessions, and  smiled  to  see  the  nations  throw  themselves 
into  her  arms.  She  neglected  no  opportunity  of  increas- 
ing and  extending  her  power.  The  praises,  the  flattery, 
and  exaggerated  compliments  paid  to  her,  and  her  being 
consulted  by  other  churches,  became  in  her  hands  as 
titles  and  documents  of  her  authority.  Such  is  the 
heart  of  man  exalted  to  a  throne  ;  flattery  intoxicates 
him,  and  his  head  grows  dizzy.  What  he  possesses 
impels  him  to  aspire  after  more. 

The  doctrine  of  "  the  Church,"  and  of  "  the  necessity 
for  its  visible  unity,"  which  had  gained  footing  as  early 
as  the  third  century,  favoured  the  pretensions  of  Rome. 
The  great  bond,  which  originally  bound  together  the 
members  of  the  church,  was  a  living  faith  in  the  heart, 
by  which  all  were  joined  to  Christ  as  their  one  Head. 
But  various  causes  'ere  long  conspired  to  originate  and 
develope  the  idea  of  a  necessity  for  some  exterior  fel- 
lowship. Men,  accustomed  to  the  associations  and 
political  forms  of  an  earthly  country,  carried  their  views 
and  habits  of  mind  into  the  spiritual  and  everlasting 
kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ.  Persecution — powerless  to 
destroy,  or  even  to  shake,  the  new  community — com- 

*  Suburbicaria  loca.  See  the  sixth  canon  of  the  Council  of 
Nice,  cited  by  Rufinus  as  follows  :  Et  ut  apud  Alexandrian* 
et  in  urbe  Roma  vetusta  consuetude  servetur  ut  vel  ille 
jEgypti  vel  hie  suburbicariarum  ecclesiarum  sollicitudinem 
gerat,  &c.  Hist.  Eccles. 

t  Julian  Oral.  I.  J  Claud,  in  Paneg.  Stilic.,  lib.  3. 

^  Euseb.  Hist.  Eccles.,  1. 5,  c.  24.  Socrat.  Hist.  Eccles.,  c.  21. 
Cyprian  ep.  59,  72,  75. 


pressed  it  into  the  form  of  a  more  compacted  body. 
To  the  errors  that  arose  in  the  schools  of  deism,  or  in 
the  various  sects,  was  opposed  the  truth  "  one  and 
universal "  received  from  the  apostles  and  preserved 
in  the  church.  All  this  was  well,  so  long  as  the  in- 
visible and  spiritual  church  was  identical  with  the 
visible  and  outward  community.  But  soon  a  great 
distinction  appeared  :  the  form  and  the  vital  principle 
parted  asunder.  The  semblance  of  identical  and  ex- 
ternal organization  was  gradually  substituted  in  place 
of  the  internal  and  spiritual  unity  which  is  the  very 
essence  of  a  religion  proceeding  from  God.  Men  suf- 
fered the  precious  perfume  of  faith  to  escape  while  they 
bowed  themselves  before  the  empty  vase  that  had  held 
it.  Faith  in  the  heart  no  longer  knit  together  in  one 
the  members  of  the  church.  Then  it  was  that  other 
ties  were  sought ;  and  Christians  were  united  by  means 
of  bishops,  archbishops,  popes,  mitres,  ceremonies,  and 
canons.  The  Living  Church  retiring  by  degrees  to  the 
lonely  sanctuary  of  a  few  solitary  souls,  an  exterior 
church  was  substituted  in  place  of  it,  and  installed  in 
all  its  forms,  as  of  divine  institution.  Salvation  no 
longer  flowing  forth  from  that  word  which  was  now 
hidden  ;  it  began  to  be  affirmed  that  it  was  conveyed 
by  means  of  certain  invented  forms,  and  that  none  could 
obtain  it  without  resorting  to  such  means  !  No  one, 
it  was  said,  can,  by  his  faith,  attain  to  everlasting  life  : 
Christ  communicated  to  the  apostles,  and  the  apostles 
to  the  bishops,  the  unction  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and  this 
Spirit  is  found  only  in  this  order  of  communication. 
In  the  beginning  of  the  Gospel,  whosoever  had  received 
the  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ,  was  esteemed  a  member  of 
the  church  :  now  the  order  was  inverted  ;  and  no  one, 
unless  a  member  of  the  church,  was  counted  to  have 
received  the  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ. 

As  soon  as  the  notion  of  a  supposed  necessity  for  a 
visible  unity*  of  the  church  had  taken  root,  another 
error  began  to  spread,  namely,  that  it  was  needful  that 
there  should  be  some  outward  representative  of  that 
unity.  Though  no  trace  of  any  primacy  of  St.  Peter 
j  above  the  rest  of  the  apostles  appears  in  the  Gospels  ; 
although  the  idea  of  a  primacy  is  at  variance  with  the 
mutual  relations  of  the  disciples  as  "  brethren,"  and 
even  with  the  spirit  of  the  dispensation  which  requires 
all  the  children  of  the  Father  to  minister  one  to  another,! 
1  Pet.  4 :  10,  acknowledging  but  one  Master  and 
Head  ;  and  though  the  Lord  Jesus  had  rebuked  his 
disciples  whenever  their  carnal  hearts  conceived  desires 
of  pre-eminence  ;  a  primacy  of  St.  Peter  was  invented, 
and  supported  by  misinterpreted  texts,  and  men  pro- 
ceeded to  acknowledge  in  that  apostle,  and  in  his  pre- 
tended successor,  the  visible  representative  of  visible 
unity — and  head  of  the  whole  Church  ! 

The  constitution  of  the  patriarchate  contributed  far- 
ther to  the  exaltation  of  the  Roman  papacy.  As  early 
as  the  first  three  centuries,  the  churches  of  the  metro- 
politan cities  had  been  held  in  peculiar  honour.  The 
Council  of  Nice,  in  its  sixth  canon,  named  especially 
three  cities  whose  churches,  according  to  it,  held  an 
anciently-established  authority  over  those  of  the  sur- 
rounding provinces.  These  were  Alexandria,  Rome, 
and  Antioch.  The  political  origin  of  this  distinction 

*  f  From  the  previous  reflections  it  is  clear  that  the  author 
does  not  disparage  that  unity  which  is  the  manifested  result 
of  the  partaking  of  the  life  of  the  Head  by  the  members  ;  but 
only  that  lifeless  form  of  unity  which  man  has  devised  in  place 
of  it.  We  learn  from  John  17  :  21-23,  that  the  true  and  real 
One-ness  of  BELIEVERS  was  to  be  manifested,  so  that  the  world 
might  believe  that  the  Father  had  sent  Jesus.  Hence  we  may 
conclude  that  the  things  which  divide,  instead  of  gathering, 
the  "  little  flock"  are  contrary  to  his  mind  :  and  among  such 
things  must  be  classed,  not  alone  the  carnality  of  names,  (1 
Cor.  3  :  4,)  but  every  commandment  or  requirement  of  men 
that  excludes  the  very  weakest  whom  God  has  received. 
(Rom.  14: 1-3;  Acts  11: 17,  compare  Acts  2: 44,  Szc.)-Ti-anslator. 


PATRIARCHATES— POLICY  OF  ROME— CHARLEMAGNE. 


11 


may  be  discerned  in  the  name  which  was  at  first  given 
to  the  bishops  of  these  cities  ;  they  were  called  exarchs, 
like  the  political  governors.*  In  later  times  they  bore 
the  more  ecclesiastical  name  of  patriarch.  It  is  in  the 
Council  of  Constantinople  that  we  find  this  title  first 
used.  This  same  council  created  a  new  patriarchate, 
that  of  Constantinople  itself,  the  new  Rome,  the  second 
capital  of  the  empire.  Rome  at  this  period  shared  the 
rank  of  patriarchate  with  these  three  churches.  But 
when  the  invasion  of  Mahomet  h-ad  swept  away  the 
bishoprics  of  Alexandria  and  Antioch  —  when  the  see  of 
Constantinople  fell  away,  and,  in  later  times,  even  sepa- 
rated itself  from  the  west,  Rome  alone  remained  ;  and, 
the  circumstances  of  the  times  causing  everything  to 
rally  around  her,  she  remained  from  that  time  without 
a  rival. 

New  and  more  powerful  partisans  than  all  the  rest 
soon  carne  to  her  assistance.  Ignorance  and  supersti- 
tion took  possession  of  the  church,  and  delivered  it  up 
to  Rome,  blindfold  and  manacled. 

Yet  this  bringing  into  captivity  was  not  effected  with- 
out a  struggle  The  voices  of  particular  churches  fre- 
quently asserted  their  independence.  This  courageous 
remonstrance  was  especially  heard  in  proconsular  Af- 
rica and  in  the  east.t 

To  silence  the  cries  of  the  churches,  Rome  found 
new  allies.  Princes,  who,  in  those  troublesome  times, 
often  saw  their  thrones  tottering,  offered  their  adherence 
to  the  Church,  in  exchange  for  her  support.  They 
yielded  to  her  spiritual  authority,  on  condition  of  her 
paying  them  with  secular  dominion.  They  left  her  to 
deal  at  will  with  the  souls  of  men,  provided  only  she 
would  deliver  them  from  their  enemies.  The  power 
of  the  hierarchy  in  the  ascending  scale,  and  of  the  im- 
perial power  which  was  declining,  leaned  thus  one 
toward  the  other  —  and  so  accelerated  their  twofold 
destiny. 

Rome  could  not  lose  by  this.  An  edict  of  Theodo- 
sius  II.  and  of  Valentinianlll.  proclaimed  the  Bishop  of 
Rome  "ruler  of  the  whole  Church."  Justinian  issued 
a  similar  decree.  These  decrees  did  not  contain  all 
that  the  popes  pretended  to  see  in  them.  But  in  those 
times  of  ignorance  it  was  easy  for  them  to  gain  recep- 
tion for  that  interpretation  which  was  most  favourable 
to  themselves.  The  dominion  of  the  emperors  in  Italy 
becoming  every  day  more  precarious,  the  bishops  of 
Rome  took  advantage  of  it  to  withdraw  themselves  from 
their  dependance. 

But  already  the  forests  of  the  north  had  poured  forth 
the  most  effectual  promoters  of  papal  power.  The 
barbarians  who  had  invaded  the  west,  and  settled  them- 
selves therein  —  but  recently  converted  to  Christianity, 
ignorant  of  the  spiritual  character  of  the  Church,  and 
feeling  the  want  of  an  external  pomp  of  religion  —  pros- 
trated themselves,  in  a  half  savage  and  half  heathen 
state  o.f  mind,  at  the  feet  of  the  chief  priest  of  Rome. 
At  the  same  time  the  people  of  the  west  also  submitted 
to  him.  First  the  Vandals,  then  the  Ostrogoths,  a  short 
time  after  the  Burgundians  and  the  Alains,  then  the 

J*  See  the  Council  of  Chalcedon,  canons  8  and  18,  &  £\ap%os 


t  Cyprian,  Bishop  of  Carthage,  speaking  of  Stephen,  Bishop 
of  Rome,  has  these  words  :  Magis  ac  magis  ejus  errorem  deno- 
tabis  qui  haereticorum  causam  contra  Christianos  et  contra 
Ecclesiam  Dei  asserere  conatur  .....  qui  unitatem  et  veritatem 

de  divina  lege  venientem  non  tenens  ......  Consuetudo  sine 

veritate  vetustas  erroris  est."    (Ep.  74.)     Firmilian,  Bishop  of 
Ctesarea  in  Cappadocia,  writing  in  the  latter  part  of  the  third 
century,  observes  :   "  Eos  autem  qui  Romse  sunt  non  ea  in 
omnibus  observare  quae  sunt  ab  origine  tradita  et  frustra  auc- 
toritatem  apostolorum  prjetendere  .......  Cseterum  nos  (the 

bishops  of  the  churches  of  Asia,  more  ancient  than  the  Roman 
church)  veritati  et  consuetudinem  jungimus,  et  consuetudmi 
Romanorum  consuetudinem  sed  reritatis  opponimus  ;  ab  initio 
hoc  tenentes  quod  a  Christo  et  ab  apostolo  traditum  est."  (Cypr. 
Ep.  75.)  These  testimonies  are  of  high  importance, 


Visigoths,  and  at  last  the  Lombards  and  the  Anglo- 
Saxons  came  bowing  the  knee  to  the  Roman  pontiff. 
It  was  the  sturdy  shoulders  of  the  idolatrous  children 
of  the  north  which  elevated  to  the  supreme  throne  of 
Christendom  a  pastor  of  the  banks  of  the  Tiber. 

These  events  occurred  in  the  west  at  the  beginning 
of  the  seventh  century,  at  the  precise  period  that  the 
Mahometan  power  arose  in  the  east,  and  prepared  to 
overrun  another  division  of  the  earth. 

Prom  that  time  the  evil  continued  increasing.  In 
the  eighth  century  we  see  the  bishops  of  Rome  on  the 
one  hand  resisting  the  Greek  emperors,  their  lawful 
sovereigns,  and  endeavouring  to  expel  them  from  Italy  ; 
while  on  the  other  they  court  the  French  mayors  of  the 
palace,  and  demand  from  this  new  power,  now  arising 
in  the  west,  a  share  in  the  wreck  of  the  empire.  We 
see  Rome  establish  her  usurped  authority  between  the 
east,  which  she  repelled,  and  the  west,  which  she  court- 
ed ;  thus  erecting  her  throne  upon  two  revolutions. 

Alarmed  by  the  progress  of  the  Arabs,  who  had  made 
themselves  masters  of  Spain,  and  boasted  that  they 
would  speedily  traverse  the  Pyrenees  and  the  Alps,  and 
proclaim  the  name  of  Mahomet  on  the  seven  hills ; 
terrified  at  the  daring  of  Aistolpho,  who,  at  the  head 
of  his  Lombards,  threatened  to  put  every  Roman  lo 
death,*  and  brandished  his  sword  before  the  city  gates  ; 
Rome,  in  the  prospect  of  ruin,  turned  on  all  sides  for 
protection,  and  threw  herself  into  the  arms  of  the  Franks, 
The  usurper  Pepin  demanded  the  confirmation  of  his 
claim  to  the  throne  :  the  pope  granted  it ;  and,  in  re- 
turn, obtained  his  declaration  in  defence  of  the  "  Re- 
public of  God."  Pepin  recovered  from  the  Lombards 
their  conquests  from  the  emperor  ;  but,  instead  of 
restoring  them  to  that  prince,  he  deposited  the  keys  of 
the  conquered  cities  on  the  altar  of  St.  Peter's  ;  and, 
with  uplifted  hand,  swore  that  it  was  not  in  the  cause 
of  man  that  he  had  taken  arms,  but  to  obtain  from  God 
the  remission  of  his  sins,  and  to  do  homage  for  his  con- 
quests to  St.  Peter  !  Thus  did  France  establish  the 
temporal  power  of  the  popes. 

Charlemagne  appeared.  At  one  time  we  see  him 
climbing  the  stairs  of  St.  Peter's,  devoutly  kissing  the 
steps  ;  again  he  presents  himself,  but  it  is  as  master 
of  all  the  nations  composing  the  western  empire,  and 
of  Rome  itself.  Leo  III.  decided  to  confer  the  rank 
on  one  who  already  possessed  the  power  ;  and  in  the 
year  800,  on  Christmas  day,  he  placed  the  crown  of 
the  Roman  emperors  on  the  brow  of  the  son  of  Pepin.  t 
From  this  period  the  pope  belonged  to  the  empire  of 
the  Franks,  and  his  connexion  with  the  east  was  at  an 
end  :  thus  loosing  his  hold  on  a  decayed  tree,  nodding 
to  its  fall,  in  order  to  graft  himself  upon  a  wild,  but 
vigorous,  sapling.  Little  could  he  then  have  dared  to 
hope  for  the  elevation  that  awaited  his  successors  among 
the  German  nations  to  which  he  thus  joined  himself. 

Charlemagne  bequeathed  to  his  feeble  successors 
only  the  wreck  of  his  own  power.  In  the  ninth  cen- 
tury disunion  everywhere  weakened  the  civil  authority. 
Rome  perceived  that  this  was  the  moment  to  exalt  her- 
self. What  better  opportunity  could  offer  for  achieving 
the  Church's  independence  of  the  state  than  when  the 
crown  of  Charles  was  broken,  and  its  fragments  scat- 
tered over  his  former  empire  1 

It  was  then  that  the  pretended  decretals  of  Isidorus 
appeared.  In  this  collection  of  alleged  decrees  of  the 
popes  the  most  ancient  bishops,  contemporaries  of 
Tacitus  and  Quintilian,  were  made  to  speak  the  bar- 
barous Latin  of  the  ninth  century.  The  customs  and 

*  Fremens  ut  leo  . . .  asserens  omnes  uno  gladio  jugulari. 
(Anastasius,  Bibl.  Vit.  Pontif.,  p.  83.) 

f  Visum  est  et  ipsi  Apostolico  Leoni .  .  .  ut  ipsum  Carolum 
imperatorem  nominare  debuisset,  qui  ipsam  Romam  tenebat 
ubi  semper  Caesares  sedere  soliti  erant  et  reliquas  sedas  . . . 
(Annalista  Lambecianus  ad  an.  801.) 


12 


DISORDERS  OF  ROME— HILDEBRAND. 


constitutions  of  the  Franks  were  gravely  attributed  to 
the  Romans  in  the  time  of  the  emperors.  Popes  quoted 
the  Bible  in  the  Latin  translation  of  St.  Jerome,  who 
lived  one,  two,  or  three  centuries  after  them.  And 
Victor,  Bishop  of  Rome  in  the  year  192,  wrote  to 
Theophilus,  who  was  Archbishop  of  Alexandria  in  385. 
The  impostor  who  had  fabricated  this  collection,  en- 
deavoured to  prove  that  all  bishops  derived  their  au- 
thority from  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  who  held  his  own 
immediately  from  Christ.  He  not  only  recorded  all 
the  successive  acquisitions  of  the  pontiffs,  but  carried 
them  back  to  the  earliest  times.  The  popes  did  not 
blush  to  avail  themselves  of  this  contemptible  impos- 
ture. As  early  as  865,  Nicholas  I.  selected  weapons 
from  this  repository  to  attack  princes  and  bishops.* 
This  barefaced  fabrication  was  for  ages  the  arsenal  of 
Rome. 

Nevertheless,  the  vices  and  atrocities  of  the  pontiffs 
were  such  as  suspended  for  a  time  the  object  of  the 
decretals.  The  papacy  signalized  its  sitting  down  at 
the  table  of  kings  by  shameful  libations  ;  and  intoxica- 
tion and  madness  reigned  in  its  orgies.  About  this 
time  tradition  places  upon  the  papal  throne  a  girl  named 
Joan,  who  Tiad  taken  refuge  at  Rome  with  her  lover, 
and  whose  sex  was  betrayed  by  the  pains  of  child-birth 
coming  upon  her  in  the  midst  of  a  solemn  procession. 
But  let  us  not  needlessly  exaggerate  the  shame  of  the 
Roman  pontiffs.  Women  of  abandoned  character 
reigned  at  this  period  in  Rome.  The  throne  which 
affected  to  exalt  itself  above  the  majesty  of  kings,  was 
sunk  in  the  filth  of  vice.  Theodora  and  Marozia  in- 
stalled and  deposed  at  their  pleasure  the  pretended 
teachers  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  and  placed  on  the 
throne  of  St.  Peter  their  lovers,  their  sons,  and  their 
grandsons.  These  too  well-authenticated  charges  may 
have  given  rise  to  the  tradition  of  the  female  pope,  Joan. 

Rome  was  one  vast  scene  of  debauchery,  wherein 
the  most  powerful  families  in  Italy  contended  for  pre- 
eminence. The  counts  of  Tuscany  were  generally  vic- 
torious in  these  contests.  In  1033  this  family  dared 
to  place  upon  the  pontifical  throne,  under  the  name  of 
Benedict  IX.,  a  young  boy  brought  up  in  debauchery. 
This  child,  of  twelve  years  of  age,  continued,  when 
pope,  in  the  practice  of  the  same  scandalous  vices. f 
Another  party  elected  in  his  stead  Sylvester  III.,  and 
Benedict,  with  a  conscience  loaded  with  adulteries  and 
hands  stained  with  homicide,  at  last  sold  the  papacy  to 
a  Roman  ecclesiastic. t 

The  emperors  of  Germany,  roused  to  indignation  by 
these  enormities,  purged  Rome  with  the  sword.  In 
1047  a  German  bishop,  Leo  IX.,  possessed  himself  of 
the  pontifical  throne. 

The  empire,  using  its  right  as  suzerain,  raised  up 
the  triple  crown  from  the  mire,  and  preserved  the  de- 
graded papacy  by  giving  to  it  suitable  chiefs.  In  1046 
Henry  III.  deposed  the  three  rival  popes,  and,  pointing 
-with  his  finger,  on  which  glittered  the  ring  of  the 
Roman  patricians,  designated  the  bishop  to  whom  St 
Peter's  keys  should  be  confided.  Four  popes,  al 
Germans,  and  chosen  by  the  emperor,  succeeded 
"Whenever  the  Pontiff  of  Rome  died,  a  deputation  from 
its  church  repaired  to  the  Imperial  court,  just  as  the 
envoys  of  other  diocesses,  to  solicit  the  nomination  ol 
a  bishop  to  succeed  him.  The  emperors  were  no 
sorry  to  see  the  popes  reforming  abuses — strengthening 
the  influence  of  the  church — holding  councils — choosing 

*  See  Ep.  ad  Univ.  Epi.  sc.  Gall.  (Mansi.  XV.) 

f  "Cujus  quidem  post  adeptum  sacerdotium  vita  quam  turpis 

quam  foeda,  quamque  execranda  exstiterit,  horresco  referre.' 

(DF.SIUERIUS,  Abbot  of  Cassino,  afterward  Pope  Victor  III.  de 

miraculis  8.  Benedicto,  etc.  lib.  3,  init) 
t  Theophylactus  .  . .  cum  post  multa  adulteria  et  homicidia 

manibus  suis  perpetrata,  etc.    (Bowizo,  Bishop  of  Sutri,  after 

ward  of  riaisancc,  liber  ad  omicum.) 


nd  deposing  prelates  in  spite  of  foreign  princes :  for 
n  all  this  the  papacy,  by  its  pretensions,  did  but  exalt 
he  power  of  the  reigning  emperor,  its  suzerain  lord. 
3ut  such  excesses  were  full  of  peril  to  his  authority. 
The  power  thus  gradually  acquired  might  at  any  mo- 
ment be  directed  against  the  emperor  himself,  and  the 
eptile,  having  gained  strength,  might  turn  against  the 
>osom  that  had  warmed  it — and  this  result  followed. 
The  papacy  arose  from  its  humiliation,  and  soon  tram- 
)led  under  foot  the  princes  of  the  earth.  To  exalt  the 
>apacy  was  to  exalt  the  Church,  to  aggrandize  religion, 
o  ensure  to  the  spirit  the  victory  over  the  flesh,  and  to 
God  the  conquest  of  the  world.  Such  were  its  max- 
ms  ;  in  these  ambition  found  its  advantage  and  fana- 
icism  its  excuse. 

The  whole  of  this  new  policy  is  personified  in  one 
man,  HILDEBRAND. 

Hildebrand,  who  has  been  by  turns  indiscreetly  ex- 
alted or  unjustly  traduced,  is  the  personification  of  the 
Homan  pontificate  in  its  strength  and  glory.  He  is 
one  of  those  characters  in  history  which  include  in 
hemselves  a  new  order  of  things,  resembling  in  this 
respect  Charlemagne,  Luther,  and  Napoleon  in  diffe- 
ent  spheres  of  action. 

Leo  IX.  took  notice  of  this  monk  as  he  was  going 
o  Cluny,  and  carried  him  with  him  to  Rome.  From 
hat  time  Hildebrand  was  the  soul  of  the  papacy,  till 
ic  himself  became  pope.  He  had  governed  the  Church 
under  different  pontiffs  before  he  himself  reigned 
under  the  name  of  Gregory  VII.  One  grand  idea 
occupied  his  comprehensive  mind.  He  desired  to 
stablish  a  visible  theocracy,  of  which  the  pope,  as  the 
Vicar  of  Christ,  should  be  the  head.  The  recollection 
of  the  ancient  universal  dominion  of  heathen  Rome 
launted  his  imagination  and  animated  his  zeal.  He 
wished  to  restore  to  Papal  Rome  what  Rome  had  lost 
under  the  emperors.  "What  Marius  and  Caesar," 
said  his  flatterers,  "  could  not  effect  by  torrents  of 
alood,  you  have  accomplished  by  a  word." 

Gregory  VII.  was  not  actuated  by  the  spirit  of 
hrist.  That  spirit  of  truth,  humility,  and  gentleness 
was  to  him  unknown.  He  could  sacrifice  what  he 
•inew  to  be  the  truth  whenever  he  judged  it  necessary 
to  his  policy.  We  may  instance  the  case  of  Beren- 
garius.  But  without  doubt  he  was  actuated  by  a  spirit 
far  above  that  of  the  generality  of  pontiffs,  and  by  a 
deep  conviction  of  the  justice  of  his  cause.  Enter- 
prising, ambitious,  persevering  in  his  designs,  he  was 
at  the  same  time  skilful  and  politic  in  the  use  of  the 
means  of  success. 

His  first  task  was  to  remodel  the  militia  of  the  Church. 
It  was  needful  to  gain  strength  before  attacking  tho 
Imperial  authority.  A  council  held  at  Rome  removed 
the  pastors  from  their  families,  and  obliged  them  to 
devote  themselves  undividedly  to  the  hierarchy.  The 
law  of  celibacy,  devised  and  carried  into  operation  by 
the  popes,  (who  were  themselves  monks,)  changed  the 
clergy  into  a  monastic  order.  Gregory  VII.  claimed 
to  exercise  over  the  whole  body  of  bishops  and  priests 
of  Christendom  a  power  equal  to  that  possessed  by  an 
abbot  of  Cluny  over  the  order  subjected  to  his  rule. 
The  legates  of  Hildebrand  passed  through  the  pro- 
vinces, depriving  the  pastors  of  their  lawful  partners, 
and  the  pope  himself,  if  necessary,  excited  the  populace 
against  the  married  clergy.* 

But  Gregory's  great  aim  was  to  emancipate  Rome 
from  subjection  to  the  emperor.  Never  would  he 
have  dared  to  conceive  so  ambitious  a  design,  if  the 
discord  which  disturbed  the  minority  of  Henry  IV.,  and 

*  Hi  quocumque  prodeunt,  clamores  insultantium,  digitoa 
ostendentium,  colaphos  pulsantium,  perferunt.  Alii  membris 
mutilati ;  alii  per  longos  cruciatus  superbe  necati,  &c.  Mar. 
tene  et  Durand.  Thea,  Nor.  Anecd.  1.  -231. 


THE  CRUSADES— SPIRITUAL  DESPOTISM— SALVATION  BY  GRACE. 


13 


the  revolt  of  the  German  princes  from  that  young  em- 
peror, had  not  favoured  his  project.  The  pope  was  a 
this  time  one  of  the  magnates  of  the  empire.  Making 
common  cause  with  some  of  the  greatest  of  its  vassals 
he  strengthened  himself  in  the  aristocratic  interest 
and  then  proceeded  to  prohibit  all  ecclesiastics  from 
receiving  investiture  from  the  emperor,  under  pain  o 
excommunication. 

He  thus  snapped  asunder  the  ancient  ties  which  con- 
nected the  several  pastors  and  their  churches  with  the 
royal  authority — but  it  was  that  he  might  bind  them  to 
the  pontifical  throne.  He  undertook  to  restrain,  by  a 
powerful  hand,  priests,  princes,  and  people — and  to 
make  the  pope  a  universal  monarch.  It  was  Rome 
alone  that  every  priest  was  to  fear — and  in  her  only  he 
was  to  hope.  The  kingdoms  and  principalities  of  the 
earth  were  to  be  her  domain  ;  and  kings  were  to  trem- 
Me  before  the  thunders  of  the  Jupiter  of  New  Rome. 
Wo  to  those  who  should  resist  her.  Their  subjects 
vere  released  from  their  oaths  of  allegiance — their 
whole  country  placed  under  interdict — public  worship 
was  to  cease — the  churches  to  be  closed — the  bells 
mute — the  sacrament  no  longer  administered — and  the 
malediction  extended  even  to  the  dead,  to  whom,  at 
the  command  of  the  proud  pontiff,  the  earth  refused  the 
peace  and  shelter  of  the  tomb. 

The  pope,  whose  power  had  been  from  the  very  be- 
ginning subordinate — first  to  the  Roman  emperors,  then 
to  the  Frankish  princes,  and,  lastly,  to  the  emperors 
of  Germany — at  once  freed  himself,  and  assumed  the 
place  of  an  equal,  if  not  of  a  master.  Yet  Gregory  the 
VII.  was  in  his  turn  humbled  ;  Rome  was  taken,  and 
Hildebrand  obliged  to  flee.  He  died  at  Salerno  :  his 
last  words  were,  Dilexi  justitiam  ct  odivi  iniquitatem ; 
propterca  morior  in  cxilio*  And  who  will  dare  to 
charge  with  hypocrisy  words  uttered  at  the  very  gates 
of  the  tomb. 

The  successors  of  Gregory  acted  like  soldiers  ar- 
riving after  a  great  victory.  They  threw  themselves 
as  conquerors  on  the  unresisting  churches.  Spain,  de- 
livered from  the  presence  of  Islamism,  and  Prussia, 
reclaimed  from  idolatry,  fell  into  the  embrace  of  the 
crowned  priest.  The  crusades,  undertaken  at  his  in- 
stance, spread  far  and  wide,  and  everywhere  confirmed 
his  authority  :  the  pious  pilgrims,  who,  in  imagination, 
had  seen  saints  and  angels  conducting  their  armed 
hosts,  and  who,  entering  humbly  and  barefooted  within 
the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  had  burned  alive  the  Jews  in 
their  synagogue,  and  shed  the  blood  of  tens  of  thousands 
of  Saracens  on  the  spots  where  they  came  to  trace  the 
footsteps  of  the  prince  of  peace,  bore  with  them  to  the 
east  the  name  of  the  pope,  whose  existence  had  been 
scarcely  known  there  since  the  period  when  he  ex- 
changed the  supremacy  of  the  Greeks  for  that  of  the 
Franks. 

Meanwhile  that  which  the  arms  of  the  republic  and 
of  the  empire  had  failed  to  effect,  was  achieved  by  the 
power  of  the  Church.  The  Germans  brought  to  the 
feet  of  a  bishop  the  tribute  their  ancestors  had  refused 
to  the  mightiest  generals  ;  and  their  princes  thought 
they  received  from  the  popes  their  crown,  while,  in 
reality,  the  popes  imposed  upon  them  a  yoke.  The 
kingdoms  of  Christendom,  already  subject  to  the  spiri- 
tual empire  of  Rome,  became  her  serfs  and  tributaries. 
Thus  everything  was  changed  in  the  Church. 
At  the  beginning  it  was  a  society  of  brethren,  and 
now  an  absolute  monarchy  is  reared  in  the  midst  of 
them.  All  Christians  were  priests  of  the  living  God, 
(1  Pet.  2:  9,)  with  humble  pastors  for  their  guidance. 
But  a  lofty  head  is  uplifted  from  the  midst  of  these 
pastors  ;  a  mysterious  voice  utters  words  full  of  pride  ; 

*  I  have  loved  righteousness  and  hated  iniquity — therefore 
I  die  an  exile. 


an  iron  hand  compels  all  men,  small  and  great,  rich  and 
poor,  freemen  and  slaves,  to  take  the  mark  of  its  power. 
The  holy  and  primitive  equality  of  souls  before  God  is 
lost  sight  of.  Christians  are  divided  into  two  strangely 
unequal  camps.  On  the  one  side  a  separate  class  of 
priests  daring  to  usurp  the  name  of  the  Church,  and 
claiming  to  be  possessed  of  peculiar  privileges  in  the 
sight  of  the  Lord.  On  the  other,  timid  flocks  reduced 
to  a  blind  and  passive  submission  ;  a  people  gagged 
and  silenced,  and  delivered  over  to  a  proud  caste. 
Every  tribe,  language,  and  nation  of  Christendom  sub- 
mitted to  the  dominion  of  this  spiritual  king,  who  had 
received  power  to  overcome. 

But  side  by  side  with  that  principle  that  should  have 
pervaded  the  history  of  Christianity,  was  a  principle 
that  was  given  to  preside  over  its  doctrine.  This  was 
the  great  principle  of  Christianity ;  its  leading  idea 
that  of  grace,  of  pardon,  and  amnesty,  and  of  the  gift 
of  eternal  life.  This  idea  supposed  an  alienation  from 
God,  and  an  inability  in  man  to  enter,  by  any  power  of 
his  own,  into  communion  with  an  infinitely  holy  Being. 
The  opposition  of  true  and  false  doctrine  cannot 
assuredly  be  entirely  summed  up  in  the  question  of 
salvation  by  faith  or  by  works.  Nevertheless,  it  is  the 
most  striking  feature  in  the  contrast.  We  may  go 
farther  :  Salvation  considered  as  derived  from  any 
power  in  man,  is  the  germinating  principle  of  all  errors 
and  perversions.  The  scandals  produced  by  this  fun- 
damental error  brought  on  the  Reformation  ;  and  the 
profession  of  the  contrary  principle  was  the  means  by 
which  it  was  achieved.  It  is,  therefore,  indispensable 
that  this  truth  should  be  prominent  in  an  introduction 
to  the  history  of  that  Reformation. 

Salvation  by  Grace.  Such,  then,  was  the  second 
aeculiarity  which  was  designed  especially  to  distinguish 
:he  religion  that  came  from  God  from  all  human  sys- 
tems. And  what  had  become  of  this  great  and  pri- 
mordial thought  1  Had  the  Church  preserved  it  as  a 
precious  deposite!  Let  us  follow  its  history. 

The  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem,  of  Asia,  of  Greece,  and 
of  Rome,  in  the  time  of  the  Roman  emperors,  had 
icard  this  gospel.  YE  ARE  SAVED  BY  GRACE,  THKOUGH 
FAITH  :  IT  is  THE  GIFT  OF  GOD  ;  (Eph.  2:8;)  and  at 
this  voice  of  peace,  at  the  sound  of  these  good  tidings, 
at  this  word  of  power,  multitudes  of  sinners  believed, 
and  were  attracted  to  Him  who  alone  can  give  peace 
to  the  conscience  ;  and  numerous  societies  of  believers 
were  formed  in  the  midst  of  the  degenerate  communi- 
;ies  of  that  age. 

But  'ere  long  an  important  error  began  to  prevail, 
as  to  the  nature  of  Saving  Faith.  Faith  (according 
o  St.  Paul)  is  the  way  through  which  the  whole  being 
of  the  believer — his  understanding,  his  heart,  and  his 
will — enters  upon  present  possession  of  the  salvation 
)urchased  by  the  incarnation  and  death  of  the  Son  of 
jJod.  Jesus  Christ  is  apprehended  by  Faith,  and  from 
hat  hour  becomes  all  things  to,  and  all  things  in,  the 
)eliever.  He  communicates  to  the  human  nature  a 
divine  life  ;  and  the  believer,  renewed  and  set  free 
rom  the  power  of  self  and  of  sin,  feels  new  affections 
and  bears  new  fruits.  Faith,  says  the  theologian, 
abouring  to  express  these  thoughts,  is  the  subjective 
ippropriation  of  the  objective  Work  of  Christ.  If  Faith 
s  not  the  appropriation  of  Salvation,  it  is  nothing  ;  the 
whole  economy  of  Christian  doctrine  is  out  of  place, 
he  fountains  of  the  new  life  are  sealed,  and  Christiani- 
y  is  overturned  from  its  foundation. 
"  And  this  consequence  did,  in  fact,  ensue.  By  de- 
grees this  practical  view  of  Faith  was  forgotten,  and 
ere  long  it  was  regarded,  as  it  still  is  by  many,  as  a 
iare  act  of  the  understanding,  a  mere  submission  to  a 
ommanding  evidence. 
From  this  primary  error  a  second  necessarily  result- 


14 


PELAGIANISM— THE  CHURCH— PENANCE— INDULGENCES. 


ed.  When  Faith  was  robbed  of  its  practical  character, 
it  could  no  longer  be  maintained  that  Faith  alone  saved. 
Works  no  longer  following  in  their  places  as  its  fruits, 
it  seemed  necessary  to  range  them  on  one  line  with 
it ;  and  the  Church  was  taught  to  believe  that  the 
sinner  is  justified  by  FAITH  and  by  WORKS.  In  place 
of  that  Christian  unity  in  doctrine,  which  comprises  in 
a  single  principle  Justification  and  Works — Grace  and 
a  rule  of  life — belief  and  responsibility  succeeded  that 
melancholy  quality  which  regards  religion  and  moral 
duty  as  things  altogether  unconnected  ;  a  fatal  delusion, 
which  brings  in  death  by  separating  the  body  from  the 
spirit,  whose  continued  union  is  the  necessary  condi- 
tion of  life  itself.  The  word  of  the  apostle  heard 
across  the  interval  of  ages  is,  "  Having  begun  in  the 
spirit,  are  ye  now  made  perfect  by  the  flesh." 

Another  error  contributed  to  unsettle  the  doctrine  of 
Grace.  This  was  Pelagianism.  Pelagius  asserted 
that  man's  nature  was  not  fallen  ;  that  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  hereditary  evil ;  and  that  man,  having  received 
power  to  do  good,  has  only  to  will,  in  order  to  perform 
it.*  If  the  doing  "good  things"  consists  in  certain 
external  acts,  Pelagius  judged  truly.  But  if  regard  is 
had  to  the  motives  whence  these  external  acts  proceed, 
or  to  the  entire  inward  life  of  man,  (See  Matt.  12  : 
34,)  then  we  discern  in  all  his  works  selfishness — 
forgetfulness  of  God,  pollution,  and  weakness.  This 
was  the  doctrine  of  St.  Augustine.  He  proved  that,  to 
entitle  any  action  to  approval,  it  was  needful  not  merely 
that  it  should  seem  right  when  looked  at  by  itself  and 
from  the  outside,  but  above  all  that  its  real  spring 
in  the  soul  should  be  holy.  The  Pelagian  doctrine 
rejected  by  St.  Augustine  from  the  church  when  it 
presented  itself  broadly  for  investigation,  reappeared 
'ere  long  with  a  side  aspect  as  semi-Pelagian,  and  under 
forms  of  expression  borrowed  from  St.  Augustine's 
own  writings.  It  was  in  vain  that  eminent  Father 
opposed  its  progress.  He  died  soon  after.  The  error 
spread  with  amazing  rapidity  throughout  Christendom 
— passing  from  the  west  to  the  east ;  and  even  at  this 
day  it  continues  to  disturb  and  harass  the  Church. 
The  danger  of  the  doctrine  appeared  in  this :  that,  by 
placing  goodness  in  the  external  act,  rather  than  in  the 
inward  affections,  it  led  men  to  put  a  high  value  upon 
outward  action,  legal  observances,  and  works  of  pe- 
nance. The  more  of  such  works,  the  greater  the  reputed 
sanctity — heaven  was  to  be  obtained  by  means  of  them  ; 
and  (extravagant  as  such  a  thought  must  appear  to 
us)  it  was  not  long  before  certain  persons  were  believed 
to  have  made  attainments  in  holiness  beyond  that  which 
was  required  of  them. 

Thus  did  the  proud  heart  of  man  refuse  to  give  the 
glory  to  that  God  to  whom  all  glory  belongs.  Thus 
did  man  claim  to  deserve  what  God  had  decreed  to 
give  freely  !  He  essayed  to  find  in  himself  the  salva- 
tion which  the  Gospel  brought  to  him  ready  wrought 
out  from  heaven.  He  spread  a  veil  over  the  saving 
truths  of  salvation  which  cometh  from  God,  and  not 
from  man — a  salvation  which  God  gives,  but  barters 
not ;  and  from  that  day  all  the  other  truths  of  religion 
were  overclouded  :  darkness  spread  over  the  Church, 
and  from  this  deep  and  deplorable  gloom  were  seen  to 
arise  innumerable  errors. 

And,  in  the  first  place,  we  may  observe  that  both 
great  divisions  of  error  converged  to  one  effect.  Pe- 
lagianism, while  it  corrupted  the  Church's  teaching, 
strengthened  the  hierarchy  :  by  the  same  influence  by 
which  it  hid  the  doctrine  of  grace,  it  exalted  the  au- 
thority of  the  Church — for  grace  was  God's  part  in  the 
work  as  the  Church  was  man's  ! 

As  soon  as  salvation  was  taken  out  of  the  hands  of 

*  Velle  et  esse  ad  homincm  referenda  sunt,  quia  de  arbitrii 
fonte  descendant.  (Pelag.  in  Aug.  de  Gratia  Dei,  cap.  iv.) 


God,  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  priests.  The  latter 
put  themselves  in  the  place  of  the  Lord  ;  and  the  souls 
of  men  thirsting  for  pardon,  were  no  longer  taught  to 
ook  to  heaven,  but  to  the  Church,  and  especially  to  its 
aretended  Head.  The  Roman  pontiff  was  in  the  place 
jf  God  to  the  blinded  minds  of  men.  Hence  all  the 
grandeur  and  authority  of  the  popes,  and  hence  also 
unutterable  abuses. 

Doubtless  the  doctrine  of  salvation  by  Faith  was  not 
entirely  lost  to  the  Church.  We  meet  with  it  in  some 
of  the  most  celebrated  fathers,  after  the  time  of  Con- 
stantine  ;  and  in  the  middle  ages.  The  doctrine  was 
not  formally  denied.  Councils  arid  popes  did  not  hurl 
heir  bulls  and  decrees  against  it ;  but  they  set  up  be- 
side it  a  something  which  nullified  it.  Salvation  by 
Faith  was  received  by  many  learned  men,  by  many  a 
lumble  and  simple  mind  ;  but  the  multitude  had  some- 
hing  very  different.  Men  had  invented  a  complete 
system  of  forgiveness.  The  multitude  flocked  to  it 
nd  joined  with  it,  rather  than  with  the  Grace  of  Christ ; 
and  thus  the  system  of  man's  devising  prevailed  over 
,hat  of  God.  Let  us  examine  some  of  the  phases  of 
,his  deplorable  change. 

In  the  time  of  Vespasian  and  his  sons,  he  who  had 
leen  the  most  intimate  companion  of  the  despised 
jalilean,  one  of  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  had  said  :  "  If 
NG  confess  our  sins,  God  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive 
our  sins." 

About  120  years  later,  under  Commodus  and  Sep- 
.imius  Severus,  Tertullian,  an  illustrious  pastor  of  Car- 
,hage,  speaking  of  pardon,  already  held  a  very  different 
anguage.  "  It  is  necessary  (said  he)  to  change  our 
dress  and  food  ;  we  must  put  on  sackcloth  and  ashes  ; 
we  must  renounce  all  comfort  and  adorning  of  the  body, 
and,  falling  down  before  the  priest,  implore  the  inter- 
cession of  the  brethren."*  Behold  man  turned  aside 
rom  God,  and  turned  back  upon  himself. 

Works  of  penance,  thus  substituted  for  the  salvation 
of  God,  multiplied  in  the  Church  from  the  time  of  Ter- 
tullian to  the  thirteenth  century.  Men  were  enjoined 
to  fast,  to  go  bareheaded,  to  wear  no  linen,  &c.,  or 
required  to  leave  home  and  country  for  distant  lands ;  or 
else  to  renounce  the  world,  and  embrace  a  monastic  life. 

In  the  eleventh  century  were  added  voluntary  flagel- 
ations  ;  a  little  after  they  became  an  absolute  mania 
n  Italy,  which  was  then  in  a  very  disturbed  state. 
Nobles  and  peasants,  old  and  young,  even  children  of 
five  years  old,  went  in  pairs  through  the  villages,  the 
towns,  and  the  cities,  by  hundreds,  thousands,  and  tens 
of  thousands,  without  any  other  covering  than  a  cloth 
tied  round  the  middle,  and  visiting  the  churches  in 
procession  in  the  very  depth  of  winter.  Armed  with 
scourges,  they  lashed  themselves  without  pity,  and  the 
streets  resounded  with  cries  and  groans,  which  drew 
forth  tears  of  compassion  from  all  who  heard  them. 

And  yet  long  before  the  evil  had  arrived  at  this  height, 
men  sighed  for  deliverance  from  the  tyranny  of  the 
priests.  The  priests  themselves  were  sensible  that  if 
they  did  not  devise  some  remedy,  their  usurped  power 
would  be  at  an  end.  Then  it  was  that  they  invented  the 
system  of  barter,  known  by  the  name  of  indulgences. 
It  is  under  John,  surnamed  the  Faster,  Archbishop  of 
Constantinople,  that  we  see  its  first  commencement. 
The  priests  said,  "  Oh,  penitents,  you  are  unable  to  per- 
form the  penances  we  have  imposed  upon  you.  Well, 
then,  we,  the  priests  of  God,  and  your  pastors,  will 
take  upon  ourselves  this  heavy  burden.  Who  can 
better  fast  than  we  1  Who  better  kneel  and  recite 
psalms  than  ourselves  1"  But  the  labourer  is  worthy 
of  his  hire.  "  For  a  seven  weeks'  fast,  (said  Regino, 
Abbot  of  Prum,)  such  as  are  rich  shall  pay  twenty 
pence  ;  those  who  are  less  wealthy,  ten  pence  ;  and  the 
*  Tertull.  de  Pcenit. 


PURGATORY— TAX  OF  INDULGENCES— THE  PAPACY  AND  CHRISTIANITY.        15 


poor,  three  pence  ;  and  in  the  same  proportion  for  other 
things."*  Some  courageous  voices  were  raised  against 
this  traffic,  but  in  vain. 

The  pope  soon  discovered  what  advantages  he  might 
derive  from  these  indulgences.  His  want  of  money 
continued  to  increase.  Here  was  an  easy  resource, 
which,  under  the  appearance  of  a  voluntary  contribu- 
tion, would  replenish  his  coffers.  It  seemed  desirable 
to  establish  so  lucrative  a  discovery  on  a  solid  footing. 
The  chief  men  of  Rome  exerted  themselves  for  this 
purpose.  The  irrefragable  doctor,  Alexander  de  Hales, 
invented,  in  the  thirteenth  century,  a  doctrine  well  suited 
to  secure  this  mighty  resource  to  the  papacy.  A  bull 
of  Clement  VII.  declared  the  new  doctrine  an  article 
of  the  Faith.  The  most  sacred  truths  were  made  to 
subserve  this  persevering  policy  of  Rome.  Christ,  it 
was  affirmed,  has  done  much  more  than  was  required 
for  reconciling  God  and  man.  One  single  drop  of  his 
blood  would  have  sufficed  for  that ;  but  he  shed  his 
blood  abundantly,  that  he  might  form  for  his  church  a 
treasury  that  eternity  itself  should  never  exhaust.  The 
supererogatory  merits  of  the  saints,  the  reward  of  the 
works  they  had  done,  beyond  and  additional  to  the 
obligations  of  duty,  have  still  farther  enriched  this 
treasury.  Its  guardianship  and  distribution  are  con- 
fided to  the  Vicar  of  Christ  upon  earth.  He  applies  to 
every  sinner,  for  sins  committed  after  baptism,  these 
merits  of  Christ  and  of  his  saints,  in  the  measure  and 
degree  that  his  sins  have  made  necessary.  Who  would 
dare  to  attack  a  custom  of  so  high  and  holy  an  origin. 

Rapidly  was  this  almost  inconceivable  invention 
reduced  to  a  system.  The  scale  imposed  ten,  twenty 
years  of  penance  for  such  and  such  kinds  of  sin.  *'  It 
is  not  merely  for  each  kind  of  sin,  but  for  each  sinful 
action,  that  this  penance  of  so  many  years  is  demanded," 
exclaimed  the  mercenary  priests.  Behold  mankind 
bowed  down  under  the  weight  of  a  penance  that  seemed 
almost  eternal. 

"  But  for  what  purpose  this  long  penance,  when  Hfe 
is  so  short — when  can  it  take  effect  1  How  can  man 
secure  the  time  requisite  for  its  performance  1  You  are 
imposing  on  him  centuries  of  severe  discipline.  When 
death  comes  he  will  but  laugh  at  you — for  death  will 
discharge  him  from  his  burthen.  Ah,  welcome  death  !" 
But  this  objection  was  provided  against.  The  philo- 
sophers of  Alexandria  had  spoken  of  a  fire  in  which 
men  were  to  be  purified.  Some  ancient  doctors  in  the 
church  had  received  the  notion.  Rome  declared  this 
philosophic  tenet  the  doctrine  of  the  church  ;  and  the 
pope,  by  a  bull,  added  purgatory  to  his  domain.  He 
declared  that  man  would  have  to  expiate  in  purgatory 
all  he  could  not  expiate  on  earth  ;  but  that  indulgences 
would  deliver  men's  souls  from  that  intermediate  state 
in  which  their  sins  would  otherwise  hold  them.  Tho- 
mas Aquinas  set  forth  this  new  doctrine  in  his  celebrated 
Summa.  Nothing  was  left  undone  to  fill  the  mind  with 
terror.  Man  is,  by  nature,  inclined  to  fear  an  unknown 
futurity,  and  the  dark  abodes  beyond  the  grave  ;  but 
that  fear  was  artfully  excited  and  increased  by  horrible 
descriptions  of  the  torments  of  this  purifying  fire.  We 
see  at  this  day,  in  many  Catholic  countries,  paintings 
exposed  in  the  temples,  or  in  the  crossways,  wherein 
poor  souls,  ingulfed  in  flames,  invoke  alleviation  for 
their  miseries.  Who  could  refuse  the  money  that, 
dropped  into  the  treasury  of  Rome,  redeemed  the  soul 
from  such  horrible  torments  1 

But  a  farther  means  of  increasing  this  traffic  was 
now  discovered.  Hitherto  it  had  been  the  sins  of  the 
living  that  had  been  turned  to  profit ;  they  now  began 
to  avail  themselves  of  the  sins  of  the  dead.  In  the 
thirteenth  century  it  was  declared  that  the  living  might, 
by  making  certain  sacrifices,  shorten,  or  even  terminate, 
*  Libri  duo  de  ecclesiasticis  discipline's. 


the  torments  their  ancestors  and  friends  were  enduring 
in  purgatory.  Instantly  the  compassionate  hearts  of 
the  faithful  offered  new  treasures  for  the  priests. 

To  regulate  this  traffic,  they  invented  shortly  after, 
probably  in  the  pontificate  of  John  XXII.,  the  cele- 
brated and  scandalous  tax  of  indulgences,  of  which  moro 
than  forty  editions  are  extant :  a  mind  of  the  least  deli- 
cacy would  be  shocked  at  the  repetition  of  the  horrors 
therein  contained.  Incest  was  to  cost,  if  not  detected, 
five  groschen  ;  if  known,  or  flagrant,  six.  A  certain 
price  was  affixed  to  the  crime  of  murder,  another  to 
infanticide,  adultery,  perjury,  burglary,  &c.  Oh,  shame 
to  Rome  !  exclaims  Claudius  of  Espersa,  a  Roman 
divine  ;  and  we  may  add,  Oh,  shame  to  human  nature  ! 
For  no  reproach  can  attach  to  Rome  which  does  not 
recoil  with  equal  force  on  mankind  in  general.  Rome 
is  human  nature  exalted,  and  displaying  some  of  its 
worst  propensities.  We  say  this  in  truth  as  well  as 
in  justice. 

Boniface  VIII.,  the  boldest  and  most  ambitious  of 
the  popes,  after  Gregory  VII.,  effected  still  more  than 
his  predecessors  had  done. 

He  published  a  bull  in  1300,  by  which  he  declared 
to  the  church  that  all  who  should  at  that  time  or  thence- 
forth make  the  pilgrimage  to  Rome,  which  should  take 
place  every  hundred  years,  should  there  receive  a 
plenary  indulgence.  Upon  this,  multitudes  flocked 
from  Italy,  Sicily,  Sardinia,  Corsica,  France,  Spain, 
Germany,  Hungary,  and  other  quarters.  Old  men,  of 
sixty  and  seventy,  set  out  on  the  pilgrimage  ;  and  it 
was  computed  that  200,000  visited  Rome  in  one  month. 
All  these  foreigners  brought  with  them  rich  offerings, 
and  the  pope  and  the  Romans  saw  their  coffers  reple- 
nished. 

The  avarice  of  the  pontiffs  soon  fixed  this  jubilee  at 
intervals  of  fifty  years,  afterward  at  thirty-three  years, 
and  at  last  at  twenty-five.  Then,  for  the  greater  con- 
venience of  the  purchasers,  and  to  increase  the  profits 
of  the  venders,  they  transferred  both  the  jubilee  and 
its  indulgences  from  Rome  to  the  market-places  of  all 
the  nations  of  Christendom.  It  was  no  longer  neces- 
sary to  abandon  one's  home  :  what  others  had  been 
obliged  to  seek  beyond  the  Alps,  each  might  now  ob- 
tain at  his  own  door. 

The  evil  was  at  its  height — and  then  the  Reformer 
arose. 

We  have  seen  what  had  become  of  the  principle 
which  was  designed  to  govern  the  history  of  Christia- 
nity ;  we  have  also  seen  what  became  of  that  which 
should  have  pervaded  its  doctrine.  Both  were  now  lost. 

To  set  up  a  single  caste  as  mediators  between  God 
and  man,  and  to  barter  in  exchange  for  works,  and 
penances,  and  gold,  the  salvation  freely  given  by  God  ; 
such  was  popery. 

To  open  wide  to  all,  through  Jesus  Christ,  and  with- 
out any  earthly  mediator,  and  without  that  power  that 
called  itself  the  Church,  free  access  to  the  gift  of  God, 
eternal  life  ;  such  was  Christianity,  and  such  was  the 
Reformation. 

Popery  may  be  compared  to  a  high  wall,  erected  by 
the  labour  of  ages,  between  man  and  God.  Whoever 
will  scale  it  must  pay  or  suffer  in  the  attempt ;  and 
even  then  he  will  fail  to  overleap  it. 

The  Reformation  is  the  power  which  has  thrown 
down  this  wall,  has  restored  Christ  to  man,  and  has  thus 
made  plain  the  way  of  access  to  the  Creator. 

Popery  interposes  the  Church  between  God  and  man. 

Christianity  and  the  Reformation  bring  God  and  man 
face  to  face. 

Popery  separates  man  from  God  :  the  Gospel  re- 
unites them. 

After  having  thus  traced  the  history  of  the  decline 
and  loss  of  the  two  grand  principles  which  were  to  dis- 


16 


THEOLOGY— DIALECTICS— PREDESTINATION— REDEMPTION. 


tinguish  the  religion  of  God  from  systems  of  man's 
devising,  let  us  see  what  were  the  consequences  of  this 
immense  change. 

But  first  let  us  do  honour  to  the  church  of  that  mid- 
dle period,  which  intervened  between  the  age  of  the 
apostles  and  the  Reformers.  The  church  was  still  the 
church,  although  fallen  and  more  and  more  enslaved. 
In  a  word,  she  was  at  all  times  the  most  powerful  friend 
of  man.  Her  hands,  though  manacled,  still  dispensed 
blessings.  Many  eminent  servants  of  Christ  diffused, 
during  these  ages,  a  beneficent  light ;  and  in  the  hum- 
ble convent,  the  sequestered  parish,  there  were  found 
poor  monks  and  poor  priests  to  alleviate  bitter  suf- 
ferings. The  church  catholic  was  not  the  papacy. 
This  filled  the  place  of  the  oppressor  ;  that  of  the  op- 
pressed. The  Reformation,  which  declared  war  against 
the  one,  came  to  liberate  the  other.  And  it  must  be 
acknowledged  that  the  papacy  itself  was  at  times,  in 
the  hands  of  Him  who  brings  good  out  of  evil,  a  neces- 
sary counterpoise  to  the  ambition  and  tyranny  of  princes. 

Let  us  now  contemplate  the  condition  of  Christianity 
at  that  time. 

Theology  and  religion  were  then  widely  different. 
The  doctrine  of  the  learned,  and  the  practice  of  priests, 
monks,  and  people,  presented  two  very  different  aspects. 
They  had,  however,  great  influence  upon  each  other, 
and  the  Reformation  had  to  deal  with  both.  Let  us 
examine  them,  and  take  a  survey  first  of  the  schools, 
or  theology. 

,  Theology  was  still  under  the  influence  of  the  middle 
ages.  The  middle  ages  had  awoke  from  their  long 
trance,  and  had  produced  many  learned  men.  But  their 
learning  had  been  directed  neither  to  the  interpretation 
of  the  Holy  Scriptures  nor  to  the  examination  of  the 
history  of  the  Church.  Scriptural  exposition,  and  the 
study  of  history,  the  two  great  sources  of  theological 
knowledge,  still  slumbered. 

A  new  science  had  usurped  their  place.  It  was  the 
science  of  Dialectics.  The  art  of  reasoning  became 
the  fruitful  mine  of  a  new  theology.  The  middle 
ages  had  discovered  the  long-lost  writings  of  Aristotle. 
Their  knowledge  of  him  was  derived  either  from  old 
Latin  versions,  or  from  translations  from  the  Arabic. 
The  resuscitated  Aristotle  appeared  in  the  west  as  a 
giant,  subjecting  the  minds,  and  even  the  consciences, 
of  men.  His  philosophic  method  added  strength  to  the 
disposition  for  dialectics  whic.h  marked  the  age.  It  was 
a  method  well  suited  to  subtle  researches  and  trivial 
distinctions.  The  very  obscurity  of  the  translations  of 
the  Greek  philosopher  favoured  the  dialtctic  subtlety 
which  had  captivated  the  west.  The  Church,  alarmed 
at  its  progress,  for  a  while  opposed  this  new  tendency. 
She  feared  that  this  taste  for  discussion  might  engen- 
der heresies.  But  the  dialectic  philosophy  proved  to 
be  easily  compounded  with  ;  monks  employed  it  against 
heretics,  and  thenceforward  its  victory  was  secure. 

It  was  the  characteristic  of  this  method  of  teaching, 
to  suggest  numerous  questions  on  every  branch  of  theo- 
logy, and  then  to  decide  them  by  a  solution.  Often 
these  inquiries  turned  upon  the  most  useless  matters. 
It  was  asked  whether  all  animals  had  been  enclosed  in 
Noah's  ark  ;  and  whether  a  dead  man  could  say  mass,* 
&.c.  But  we  should  be  wrong  to  form  our  judgment 
of  the  scholastic  divines  from  such  examples  only. 
On  the  contrary,  we  must  often  acknowledge  the  depth 
and  extent  of  their  inquiries. 

Some  among  them  made  a  distinction  between  theo- 
logical and  philosophical  truth,  affirming  that  a  propo- 
sition might  be  theologically  true,  and  philosophically 
false.  In  this  way  it  was  hoped  to  reconcile  in- 
credulity with  a  cold  and  dead  adherence  to  the  forms 
of  the  Church.  But  there  were  others,  and  Thomas 
*  Hottinger  Hist.  Eccles.  V. 


Aquinas  at  their  head,  who  maintained  that  the  doctrine 
of  revelation  was  in  no  respect  at  variance  with  an 
enlightened  reason  ;  and  that  even  as  Christian  charity 
does  not  annihilate  the  natural  affections,  but  chastens, 
sanctifies,  ennobles,  and  governs  them,  so  Faith  does 
not  destroy  Philosophy,  but  may  make  use  of  it  by 
sanctifying  and  illuminating  it  with  its  own  light. 

The  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  opened  a  wide  field  for 
the  dialectic  method  of  the  theologians.  By  dint  of 
distinctions  and  disputes,  they  fell  into  contrary  errors. 
Some  distinguished  the  three  Persons  so  as  to  make 
of  them  three  Gods.  This  was  the  error  of  Rocelin 
of  Compeigne  and  his  followers.  Others  confounded 
the  Persons  so  as  to  leave  only  an  ideal  distinction. 
This  was  the  case  with  Gilbert  of  Poictiers  and  his  ad- 
herents. But  the  orthodox  doctrine  was  ably  main- 
tained by  others. 

The  dialectic  subtlety  of  the  times  was  not  less  di- 
rected to  the  article  of  the  Divine  Will.  How  are  we 
to  reconcile  the  will  of  God  with  his  almighty  power 
and  holiness]  The  scholastic  divines  found  in  this 
question  numerous  difficulties,  and  laboured  to  remove 
them  by  dialectic  distinctions.  "  We  cannot  say  that 
God  wills  the  existence  of  evil,"  said  Peter  the  Lom- 
bard, "  but  neither  can  we  say  that  He  wills  that  evil 
should  not  exist." 

The  majority  of  these  theologians  sought  to  weaken, 
by  their  dialectic  labours,  the  doctrine  of  Predestination 
which  they  found  in  the  church.  Alexander  de  Hales 
availed  himself  for  this  purpose  of  the  following  distinc- 
tion of  Aristotle  ;  that  every  action  supposes  two  par- 
ties, namely,  an  agent,  and  the  thing  subjected  to  the 
action.  Divine  Predestination,  said  he,  acts  doubtless 
for  man's  salvation  ;  but  it  is  requisite  that  it  find  in 
the  soul  of  man  a  capacity  for  the  reception  of  this 
grace.  Without  this  second  party  the  first  cannot 
effect  anything  ;  and  Predestination  consists  in  this, 
that  God,  knowing  by  his  prescience  those  in  whom  this 
second  requisite  will  be  found,  has  appointed  to  give 
them  his  grace. 

As  to  the  original  condition  of  man,  these  theolo- 
gians distinguished  natural  gifts  and  free  gifts.  The 
first  they  held  to  consist  in  the  primitive  purity  and 
strength  of  the  human  soul.  The  second  were  the  gifts 
of  God's  grace,  that  the  soul  might  accomplish  good 
works.  But  here,  again,  the  learned  were  divided  ; 
some  contended  that  man  had  originally  possessed  only 
natural  gifts,  and  had,  by  his  use  of  them,  to  merit  those 
of  grace.  But  Thomas  Aquinas,  who  was  generally 
on  the  side  of  sound  doctrine,  affirmed  that  the  gifts  of 
grace  had,  from  the  beginning,  been  closely  united  with 
the  gifts  of  nature,  because  the  first  man  was  perfect  in 
his  moral  health.  The  fall,  said  the  former,  who  lean- 
ed toward  Free-will,  has  deprived  man  of  the  gifts  of 
grace,  but  it  has  not  entirely  stripped  him  of  the  primi- 
tive strength  of  his  nature  ;  for  the  least  sanctification 
would  have  been  impossible,  if  there  had  been  no  longer 
with  him  any  moral  strength.  While,  on  the  other  side, 
the  stricter  theologians  thought  that  the  Fall  had  not 
only  deprived  man  of  grace,  but  corrupted  his  nature. 

All  acknowledged  the  work  of  Reconciliation 
wrought  out  by  Christ's  sufferings  and  death  But 
some  maintained  that  redemption  could  have  been 
effected  in  no  other  way  than  by  the  expiatory  satisfac- 
tion of  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ,  while  others  laboured 
to  prove  that  God  had  simply  attached  redemption  and 
grace  to  this  price.  Others,  again,  and  among  these 
last  we  may  particularize  Abelard,  made  the  saving 
efficacy  of  redemption  to  consist  merely  in  its  fitness  to 
awaken  in  man's  heart  a  confidence  and  love  toward 
God. 

The  doctrines  of  Sanctification  or  of  Grace  discovers 
to  us,  in  fresh  abundance,  the  dialectic  subtlety  of  these 


PENANCE— RELIGION— RELICS. 


17 


divines.  All  of  them,  accepting  the  distinction  of  Aris- 
totle already  mentioned,  laid  down  the  necessity  of  the 
existence  in  man  of  a  materia  disposita,  a  something 
disposed  to  the  reception  of  grace.  But  Thomas 
Aquinas  ascribes  this  disposition  to  grace  itself. 
Grace,  said  they,  was  formative  for  man  before  the 
fall ;  now,  that  there  is  in  him  something  to  extirpate, 
it  is  grace  reformative.  And  a  farther  distinction  was 
laid  down  between  grace  given  gratuitously,  gratia 
gratis  data,  and  grace  that  makes  acceptable,  gratia 
gratum  faciens  ;  with  many  other  similar  distinctions. 

The  doctrine  of  penance  and  indulgence,  which  we 
have  already  exhibited,  crowned  the  whole  of  this 
system,  and  ruined  whatever  good  it  might  contain. 
Peter  the  Lombard  had  been  the  first  to  distinguish 
three  sorts  of  penitence  ;  that  of  the  heart,  or  com- 
punction ;  that  of  the  lips,  or  confession ;  that  of 
works,  or  satisfaction  by  outward  action.  He  distin- 
guished, indeed,  absolution  in  the  sight  of  God  from 
absolution  before  the  church.  He  even  affirmed  that 
inward  repentance  sufficed  to  obtain  the  pardon  of 
sins.  But  he  found  a  way  back  into  the  error  of  the 
church  through  another  channel.  He  allowed  that,  for 
sins  committed  after  baptism,  it  was  necessary  either 
to  endure  the  fires  of  purgatory,  or  to  submit  to  the 
ecclesiastic  penance  ;  excepting  only  the  sinner  whose 
inward  repentance  and  remorse  should  be  so  great  as 
to  obviate  the  necessity  of  farther  sufferings.  He 
proceeds  to  propose  questions  which,  with  all  his  skill 
in  dialectics,  he  is  embarrassed  to  resolve.  If  two 
men,  equal  in  their  spiritual  condition,  but  one  poor  and 
the  other  rich,  die  the  same  day,  the  one  having  no  other 
succours  than  the  ordinary  prayers  of  the  church,  while 
for  the  other  many  masses  can  be  said  and  many  works 
of  charity  can  be  done,  what  will  be  the  event  ?  The 
scholastic  divine  turna  on  all  sides  for  an  answer,  and 
concludes  by  saying,  that  they  will  have  the  like  fate, 
but  not  by  the  like  causes.  The  rich  man's  deliver- 
ance from  purgatory  will  not  be  more  perfect,  but  it  will 
be  earlier. 

We  have  given  a  few  sketches  of  the  sort  of  theo- 
logy which  reigned  in  the  schools  at  the  period  of  the 
Reformation.  Distinctions,  ideas,  sometimes  just, 
sometimes  false,  but  still  mere  notions.  The  Christian 
doctrine  had  lost  that  odour  of  heaven,  that  force  and 
practical  vitality  which  came  from  God,  and  which  had 
characterized  it  as  it  existed  in  the  apostolic  age  :  and 
these  were  destined  again  to  come  to  it  from  above. 

Meanwhile  the  learning  of  the  schools  was  pure  when 
compared  with  the  actual  condition  of  the  Church. 
The  theology  of  the  learned  might  be  said  to  flourish, 
if  contrasted  with  the  religion,  the  morals,  the  instruc- 
tions of  the  priests,  monks,  and  people.  If  science 
stood  in  need  of  a  revival,  the  Church  was  in  still  great- 
er need  of  a  Reformation. 

The  people  of  Christendom,  and  under  that  designa- 
tion almost  all  the  nations  of  Europe  might  be  com- 
prised, no  longer  looked  to  a  living  and  holy  God  for 
the  free  gift  of  eternal  life.  They,  therefore,  naturally 
had  recourse  to  all  the  devices  of  a  superstitious,  fearful, 
and  alarmed  imagination.  Heaven  was  peopled  with 
saints  and  mediators,  whose  office  it  was  to  solicit 
God's  mercy.  All  lands  were  filled  with  the  works  of 
piety,  of  mortification,  of  penance  and  observances,  by 
which  it  was  to  be  procured.  Take  the  description  of 
the  state  of  religion  at  this  period,  given  by  one  who 
was  for  a  long  while  a  monk,  and  in  after-life  a  fellow- 
labourer  with  Luther — Myconius. 

"  The  sufferings  and  merits  of  Christ  were  looked 
upon  (says  he)  as  an  empty  tale,  or  as  the  fictions  of 
Homer.  There  was  no  longer  any  thought  of  that 
faith  by  which  we  are  made  partakers  of  the  Saviour's 
righteousness,  and  the  inheritance  of  eternal  life. 


Christ  was  regarded  as  a  stern  judge,  prepared  to  con- 
demn all  who  should  not  have  recourse  to  the  interces- 
sion of  saints  or  to  the  pope's  indulgences.  Other 
intercessors  were  substituted  in  his  stead  ;  first,  the 
Virgin  Mary,  like  the  heathen  Diana ;  and  then  the 
saints,  whose  numbers  were  continually  augmented  by 
the  popes.  These  intercessors  refused  their  mediation, 
unless  the  party  was  in  good  repute  with  the  monastic 
orders  which  they  had  founded.  To  be  so,  it  was 
necessary  not  only  to  do  what  God  had  commanded  in 
his  word,  but  also  to  perform  a  number  of  works  in- 
vented by  the  monks  and  the  priests,  and  which  brought 
them  in  large  sums  of  money.  Such  were  Ave  Marias, 
the  prayers  of  St.  Ursula,  and  of  St.  Bridget.  It  was 
necessary  to  chant  and  cry  day  and  night.  There 
were  as  many  different  pilgrimages  as  there  were 
mountains,  forests,  and  valleys..  But  with  money  these 
penances  might  be  compounded  for.  The  people, 
therefore,  brought  to  the  convents  and  to  the  priests 
money,  and  everything  they  possessed  that  was  of  any 
value — fowls,  ducks,  eggs,  wax,  straw,  butter,  and 
cheese.  Then  the  chantings  resounded,  the  bells 
rang,  the  odour  of  incense  filled  the  sanctuary,  the 
sacrifices  were  offered  up,  the  tables  groaned,  the 
glasses  circulated,  and  these  pious  orgies  were  termi- 
nated by  masses.  The  bishops  no  longer  appeared  in 
the  pulpits,  but  they  consecrated  priests,  monks, 
churches,  chapels,  images,  books,  and  burial-places,  and 
all  these  brought  a  large  revenue.  Bones,  arms,  feet 
were  preserved  in  boxes  of  silver  or  gold  ;  they  gave 
them  to  the  faithful  to  kiss  during  mass,  and  this  in- 
creased their  gains. 

"  All  maintained  that  the  pope,  being  in  the  place 
of  God,  (2  Thess.  2  :  4,)  could  not  err  ;  and  there  were 
none  to  contradict  them."* 

At  the  church  of  All  Saints,  at  Wittemberg,  was 
shown  a  fragment,  nf  Noah's  ark  ;  some  soot  from  the 
furnace  of  the  three  children ;  a  piece  of  wood  from 
the  crib  of  the  infant  Jesus  ;  some  hair  of  the  beard  of 
the  great  St.  Christopher  ;  and  nineteen  thousand  other 
relics,  more  or  less  precious.  At  Schaffhausen  was 
shown  the  breath  of  St.  Joseph,  that  Nicodemus  re- 
ceived on  his  glove.  In  Wurtemburg  might  be  seen 
a  seller  of  indulgences  disposing  of  his  merchandise 
with  his  head  adorned  with  a  feather  plucked  from  the 
wing  of  the  Archangel  Michael.t  But  there  was  no 
need  to  seek  so  far  for  these  precious  treasures.  Those 
who  farmed  the  relics  overran  the  country.  They  bore 
them  about  in  the  rural  districts,  (as  has  since  been 
done  with  the  Holy  Scriptures  ;)  and  carried  them  into 
the  houses  of  the  faithful,  to  spare  them  the  cost  and 
trouble  of  the  pilgrimage.  They  were  exhibited  with 
pomp  in  the  churches.  These  wandering  hawkers  paid 
a  certain  sum  to  the  proprietors  of  the  relics,  with  a 
per  centage  on  their  profits.  The  kingdom  of  heaven 
had  disappeared,  and  men  had  opened  in  its  place  on 
earth  a  market  of  abominations. 

At  the  same  time  a  profane  spirit  had  invaded  reli- 
gion, and  the  most  solemn  recollections  of  the  church  ; 
the  seasons  which  seemed  most  to  summon  the  faithful 
to  devout  reflection  and  love,  were  dishonoured  by 
buffoonery  and  profanations  altogether  heathenish. 
The  Humours  of  Easter  held  a  large  place  in  the 
annals  of  the  church.  The  festival  of  the  Resurrection 
claiming  to  be  joyfully  commemorated,  preachers  went 
out  of  their  way  to  put  into  their  sermons  whatever 
might  excite  the  laughter  of  the  people.  One  preacher 
imitated  the  cuckoo  ;  another  hissed  like  a  goose  ;  one 
dragged  to  the  altar  a  layman  dressed  in  a  monk's  cowl ; 
a  second  related  the  grossest  indecencies  ;  a  third  re- 

*  Myconius'  History  of  the  Reformation  ;  and  Seckendorfs 
Hist,  of  Lutheranism. 
f  Miiller  Reliquien,  vol.  iii.,  p.  23. 


18   MORALS— CORRUPTION— DISORDERS  OF  THE  PRIESTS— BISHOPS  AND  POPES. 


counted  the  tricks  of  the  Apostle  St.  Peter — among 
others,  how,  at  an  inn,  he  cheated  the  host,  by  not 
paying  his  reckoning.*  The  lower  orders  of  the  clergy 
followed  the  example,  and  turned  their  superiors  into 
ridicule.  The  very  temples  were  converted  into  a 
stage  and  the  priests  into  mountebanks. 

If  this  was  the  state  of  religion,  what  must  have  been 
the  morals  of  the  age  1 

Doubtless  the  corruption  was  not  universal.  Justice 
requires  that  this  should  not  be  forgotten.  The  Re- 
formation elicited  many  shining  instances  of  piety, 
righteousness,  and  strength  of  mind.  The  spontaneous 
power  of  God  was  the  cause  ;  but  how  can  we  doubt 
that  by  the  same  power  the  germes  of  this  new  life  had 
been  deposited  long  before  in  the  bosom  of  the  church. 
If,  in  these  our  days,  any  one  were  to  collect  the  im- 
moralities and  degrading  vices  that  are  committed  in 
any  single  country,  such  a  mass  of  corruption  would 
doubtless  be  enough  to  shock  every  mind.  But  the 
evil,  at  the  period  we  speak  of,  bore  a  character  and 
universality  that  it  has  not  borne  at  any  subsequent 
date  ;  and  above  all,  the  abomination  stood  in  the  holy 
places,  which  it  has  not  been  permitted  to  do  since  the 
Reformation. 

Moral  conduct  had  declined  with  the  life  of  faith. 
The  tidings  of  the  gift  of  eternal  life  is  the  power  of 
God  to  regenerate  men.  Once  take  away  the  salvation 
which  is  God's  gift,  and  you  take  away  sanctification 
and  good  works  :  and  this  was  the  result. 

The  proclamation  and  sale  of  indulgences  powerfully 
stimulated  an  ignorant  people  to  immorality.  It  is  true 
that,  according  to  the  Church,  they  could  benefit  those 
only  who  made  arid  kept  a  promise  of  amendment. 
But  what  could  be  expected  from  a  doctrine  invented 
with  a  view  to  the  profit  to  be  gained  from  it  1  The 
venders  of  indulgences  were  naturally  tempted  to 
farther  the  sale  of  their  merchandise  by  presenting 
them  to  the  people  under  the  most  attractive  and  se- 
ducing aspect  ;  even  the  better  instructed  did  not  fully 
comprehend  the  doctrine  in  respect  to  them.  All  that 
the  multitude  saw  in  them  was  a  permission  to  sin  ; 
and  the  sellers  were  in  no  haste  to  remove  an  impres- 
sion so  favourable  to  the  sale. 

What  disorders,  what  crimes,  in  these  ages  of  dark- 
ness, in  which  impunity  was  acquired  by  money  ! 
What  might  not  be  feared  when  a  small  contribution 
to  the  building  of  a  church  was  supposed  to  deliver 
from  the  punishments  of  a  future  world  !  What  hope 
of  revival  when  the  communicat-ion  between  God  and 
man  was  at  an  end  ;  and  man,  afar  off  from  God,  who 
is  spirit  and  life — moved  only  in  a  circle  of  pitiful  cere- 
monies and  gross  practices — in  an  atmosphere  of  death. 

The  priests  were  the  first  who  felt  the  effects  of  this 
corrupting  influence.  Desiring  to  exalt  themselves, 
they  had  sunk  themselves  lower.  Infatuated  men  ! 
They  aimed  to  rob  God  of  a  ray  of  his  glory,  and  to 
place  it  on  their  own  brows  ;  but  their  attempt  had 
failed,  and  they  had  received  only  a  leaven  of  corruption 
from  the  power  of  evil.  The  annals  of  the  age  swarm 
with  scandals.  In  many  places  the  people  were  well 
pleased  that  the  priest  should  have  a  woman  in  keeping, 
that  their  wives  might  be  safe  from  his  seductions.! 
What  scenes  of  humiliation  were  witnessed  in  the  house 
of  the  pastor.  The  wretched  man  supported  the 
mother  and  her  children,  with  the  tithe  and  the  offer- 
ing ;t  his  conscience  was  troubled  ;  he  blushed  in 
presence  of  his  people,  of  his  servants,  and  before  God. 
The  mother,  fearing  to  come  to  want  when  the  priest 
should  die,  provided  against  it  beforehand,  and  robbed 
the  house.  Her  character  was  gone  :  her  children 

*  CEcolamp.  de  risu  paschali. 

f  Nicol.  De  Olemangis  de  praesulib.  simoniacis. 

j  The  words  of  Seb.  Stor,  pastor  of  Lichstall  in  1524. 


were  a  living  accusation  of  her.  Treated  on  all  sides 
with  contempt,  they  plunged  into  brawls  and  debau- 
cheries. Such  was  the  family  of  the  priest.  These 
horrid  scenes  were  a  kind  of  instruction  that  the  people 
were  ready  enough  to  follow.* 

The  rural  districts  were  the  scene  of  numerous  ex- 
cesses. The  abodes  of  the  clergy  were  frequently  the 
resorts  of  the  dissolute.  Cornelius  Adrian,  at  Bruges,t 
the  Abbot  Trinkler,  at  Cappel,|  imitated  the  customs 
of  the  east,  and  had  their  harems.  Priests,  consorted 
with  abandoned  characters,  frequented  the  taverns, 
played  dice,  and  finished  their  orgies  by  quarrels  and 
blasphemy.  § 

The  council  of  Schaff hausen  prohibited  the  clergy 
from  dancing  in  public,  except  at  weddings  ;  from  car- 
rying two  kinds  of  weapons  ;  and  decreed  that  a  priest 
who  should  be  found  in  a  house  of  ill  fame,  should  be 
stripped  of  his  ecclesiastical  habit.  H  In  the  arch- 
bishopric of  Mentz  they  scaled  the  walls  in  the  night, 
committed  disturbances  and  disorders  of  all  kinds  in 
the  inns  and  taverns,  and  broke  open  doors  and  locks. ^[ 
In  several  places  the  priest  paid  to  the  bishop  a  regular 
tax  for  the  woman  with  whom  he  lived,  and  for  every 
child  he  had  by  her.  A  German  bishop  who  was 
present  at  a  grand  entertainment,  publicly  declared 
that  in  one  year  eleven  thousand  priests  had  presented 
themselves  to  him  for  that  purpose.  It  is  Erasmus 
who  records  this.** 

The  higher  orders  of  the  hierarchy  were  equally  cor- 
rupt. Dignitaries  of  the  church  preferred  the  tumult 
of  camps  to  the  service  of  the  altar.  To  be  able,  lance 
in  hand,  to  compel  his  neighbours  to  do  him  homage, 
was  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  qualifications  of  a 
bishop.  Baldwin,  Archbishop  of  Treves,  was  constant- 
ly at  war  with  his  neighbours  and  vassals  ;  raising  their 
castles,  building  fortresses  of  his  own,  and  thinking  only 
how  to  enlarge  his  territory.  A  certain  bishop  of  Eich- 
stadt,  when  dispensing  justice,  wore  under  his  habit  a 
coat  of  mail,  and  held  in  his  hand  a  long  sword.  He 
used  to  say  he  did  not  fear  five  Bavarians,  provided 
they  would  but  attack  him  in  the  open  field. ft  Every- 
where the  bishops  were  engaged  in  constant  war  with 
the  towns  ;  the  citizens  demanding  freedom,  and  the 
bishops  requiring  implicit  obedience.  If  the  latter 
triumphed,  they  punished  the  revolters  by  sacrificing 
numerous  victims  to  their  vengeance  ;  but  the  flame 
of  insurrection  broke  out  again  at  the  very  moment 
when  it  was  thought  to  be  extinguished. 

And  what  a  spectacle  was  presented  by  the  pontifical 
throne  in  the  generation  immediately  preceding  the 
Reformation  !  Rome,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  has 
seldom  been  witness  to  so  much  infamy. 

Rodrigo  Borgia,  after  living  in  illicit  intercourse  with 
a  Roman  lady,  had  continued  a  similar  connexion  with 
one  of  her  daughters,  by  name  Raso  Vanozza,  by  whom 
he  had  had  five  children.  He  was  living  at  Rome  with 
Variozza  and  other  abandoned  women — as  cardinal  and 
archbishop,  visiting  the  churches  and  hospitals — when 
the  death  of  Innocent  VIII.  created  a  vacancy  in  the 
pontifical  chair.  He  succeeded  in  obtaining  it  by 
bribing  each  of  the  cardinals  at  a  stipulated  price. 
Four  mules,  laden  with  silver,  were  publicly  driven 
into  the  palace  of  Sforza,  the  most  influential  .of  the 
cardinals.  Borgia  became  pope  under  the  name  of 

*  Fiisslin  Beytrage,  ii.,  224. 

t  Metern.  Nederl.  Hist.  viii. 

f  Hottinger,  Hist.  Eccles.  ix.,  305. 

§  Mandement  de  Hugo,  eveque  de  Constance,  Mar.  3,  1517. 

||  Muller's  Reliq.  iii.,  251. 

H  Steubing  Gescli.  der  Nass.  Oran.  Lande. 

*Y  Uno  anno  ad  se  delata  undecim  millia  sacerdotum  palam 
concubinariornm.  Erasmi  Op.  torn,  ix.,  p.  401.  [This  citation 
has  been  verified — yet  there  seems  to  be  some  mistake  in  these 
figures. — TV.] 

ft  Schmidt  Gesch.  der  Deutschen.  torn.  iv. 


ALEXANDER  VI.— C.&SAR  BORGIA-^GENERAL  CORRUPTION— CICERONI ANS.     19 


Alexander  VI. ,  and  rejoiced  in  the  attainment  of  the 
pinnacle  of  pleasures. 

The  very  day  of  his  coronation  he  created  his  son 
Cffisar,  a  ferocious  and  dissolute  youth,  Archbishop  of 
Valencia  and  Bishop  of  Pampeluna.  He  next  pro- 
ceeded to  celebrate  in  the  Vatican  the  nuptials  of  his 
daughter  Lucrezia,  by  festivities,  at  which  his  mistress, 
Julia  Bella,  was  present,  and  which  were  enlivened  by 
farces  and  indecent  songs.  "  Most  of  the  ecclesias- 
tics," says  an  historian,*  "  had  their  mistresses,  and 
all  the  convents  of  the  capital  were  houses  of  ill  fame." 
Caesar  Borgia  espoused  the  cause  of  the  Guelphs,  and 
when,  by  their  assistance,  he  had  annihilated  the  power 
of  the  Ghibelines,  he  turned  upon  the  Guelphs  and 
crushed  them  in  their  turn.  But  he  would  allow  none 
to  share  in  the  spoils  of  his  atrocities.  In  the  year 
1497  Alexander  conferred  upon  his  eldest  son  the 
duchy  of  Benevento.  The  duke  suddenly  disappeared. 
That  night  a  faggot-dealer  on  the  banks  of  the  Tiber 
saw  some  persons  throw  a  corpse  into  the  river ;  bat 
he  said  nothing  of  it,  for  such  things  were  common. 
The  duke's  body  was  found.  His  brother  Cassar  had 
been  the  instigator  of  the  murder.f  He  did  not  stop 
there.  His  brother-in-law  stood  in  the  way  of  his 
ambition.  One  day  Caesar  caused  him  to  be  stabbed 
on  the  stair-case  of  the  pope's  palace,  and  he  was  car- 
ried, covered  with  blood,  to  his  own  apartments.  His 
wife  and  sister  never  left  him.  Dreading  lest  Csesar 
should  employ  poison,  they  were  accustomed  to  prepare 
his  meals  with  their  own  hands.  Alexander  placed 
guards  before  his  door  ;  but  Csesar  ridiculed  these  pre- 
cautions, and  on  one  occasion,  when  the  pope  visited 
him,  dropped  the  remark,  "  What  cannot  be  done  at 
dinner  may  be  at  supper."  Accordingly,  he  one  day 
gained  admittance  to  the  chamber  of  the  wounded  man, 
turned  out  his  wife  and  sister,  and,  calling  Michilotto, 
the  executioner  of  his  horrors,  and  the  only  man  in 
whom  he  placed  any  confidence,  commanded  him  to 
strangle  his  victim  before  his  eyes.  Alexander  had  a 
favourite  named  Peroto,  whose  preferment  offended 
the  young  duke.  Caesar  rushed  upon  him  ;  Peroto 
sought  refuge  under  the  papal  mantle,  clasping  the 
pontiff  in  his  arms  ;  Caesar  stabbed  him,  and  the  blood 
of  the  victim  spirted  in  the  pontiff's  face.  "The 
pope,"  adds  a  contemporary  and  witness  of  these  atro- 
cities, "  loves  the  duke,  his  son,  and  lives  in  great  fear 
of  him."  Csesar  was  one  of  the  handsomest  and  most 
powerful  men  of  his  age.  Six  wild  bulls  fell  beneath 
his  hand  in  single  combat.  Nightly  assassinations  took 
place  in  the  streets  of  Rome.  Poison  often  destroyed 
those  whom  the  dagger  could  not  reach.  Every  one 
feared  to  move  or  breathe,  lest  he  should  be  the  next 
victim.  Csesar  Borgia  was  the  hero  of  crime.  The 
spot  on  earth  where  all  iniquity  met  and  overflowed, 
was  the  pontiffs  seat.  When  man  has  given  himself 
over  to  the  power  of  evil,  the  higher  his  pretensions 
before  God,  the  lower  he  is  seen  to  sink  in  the  depths 
of  hell.  The  dissolute  entertainments  given  by  the 
pope,  and  his  son  Caesar  and  his  daughter  Lucrezia, 
are  such  as  can  neither  be  described  nor  thought  of. 
The  most  impure  groves  of  ancient  worship  saw  not 
the  like.  Historians  have  accused  Alexander  and  Lu 
crezia  of  incest,  but  the  charge  is  not  sufficiently  esta 
blished.  The  pope,  in  order  to  rid  himself  of  a  wealthy 
cardinal,  had  prepared  poison  in  a  small  box  of  sweet- 
meats, which  was  to  be  placed  on  the  table  after  a 
sumptuous  feast :  the  cardinal,  receiving  a  hint  of  the 
design,  gained  over  the  attendant,  and  the  poisoned 
box  was  placed  before  Alexander.  He  ate  of  it,  and 

*  Infessura. 

f  Ama/zo  il  fratello  ducha  di  Gandia  e  lo  fabutar  nel  Tevere. 
(M,  S.  C.  of  Capello,  ambassador  at  Rome  in  1500 — extracted  by 
Kanke.) 


perished.  The  whole  city  came  together,  and  could 
tiardly  satiate  themselves  with  the  sight  of  this  dead 
viper.* 

Such  was  the  man  who  filled  the  pontifical  throne  at 
the  commencement  of  the  age  of  the  Reformation. 

Thus  the  clergy  had  disgraced  religion  and  them- 
selves. Well  might  a  powerful  voice  exclaim,  "  The 
ecclesiastic  order  is  opposed  to  God  and  to  his  glory. 
The  people  well  know  it ;  and  it  is  but  too  evident, 
>orn  the  many  songs,  proverbs,  and  jests  on  the  priests, 
current  among  the  common  people,  as  also  from  the 
figures  of  monks  and  priests  scrawled  on  the  walls,  and 
even  on  the  playing  cards,  that  every  one  has  a  feeling 
of  disgust  at  the  sight  or  name  of  a  priest."  It  is 
Luther  who  thus  speaks. t 

The  evil  had  spread  through  all  ranks :  a  spirit  of 
delusion  had  been  sent  among  men ;  the  corruption 
of  morals  corresponded  to  the  corruption  of  the  faith  ; 
the  mystery  of  iniquity  weighed  down  the  enslaved 
Church  of  Christ. 

Another  consequence  necessarily  ensued  from  the 
neglect  into  which  the  fundamental  doctrine  of  the 
Gospel  had  fallen.  From  the  darkness  of  the  under- 
standing resulted  the  corruption  of  the  heart.  The 
priests  having  taken  into  their  own  hands  the  dispens- 
ing a  salvation  which  belonged  only  to  God,  had  there- 
by secured  a  sufficient  hold  on  the  respect  of  the  people. 
What  need  had  they  to  study  sacred  learning1!  It  was 
no  longer  their  office  to  explain  the  Scriptures,  but  to 
grant  letters  of  indulgence ;  and,  for  the  fulfilling  of 
that  ministry,  it  was  unnecessary  to  have  acquired  any 
reat  learning. 

In  country  parts,  says  Wimpheling,  they  appointed 
as  preachers  poor  wretches  whom  they  had  taken  from 
beggary,  and  who  had  been  cooks,  musicians,  hunts- 
men, stable-boys,  and  even  worse.t 

The  superior  clergy  themselves  were  sunk  in  great 
gnorance.  A  bishop  of  Dunfcldt  congratulated  him- 
self on  never  having  learned  Greek  or  Hebrew.  The 
monks  asserted  that  all  heresies  arose  from  these  lan- 
guages, but  especially  from  the  Greek.  "The  New 
Testament,"  said  one  of  them,  "  is  a  book  full  of  ser- 
pents and  thorns.  Greek,"  continued  he,  "  is  a  modern 
language,  but  recently  invented,  and  against  which  we 
must  be  upon  our  guard.  As  to  Hebrew,  my  dear 
brethren,  it  is  certain  that  whoever  studies  that  imme- 
diately becomes  a  Jew."  Heresbach,  a  friend  of  Eras- 
mus, and  a  respectable  writer,  reports  these  very  words. 
Thomas  Linacer,  a  learned  and  celebrated  divine,  had 
never  read  the  New  Testament.  Drawing  near  his  end, 
(in  1524,)  he  called  for  it,  but  quickly  threw  it  from  him 
with  an  oath,  because  his  eye  had  caught  the  words, 
"  But  I  say  unto  you,  Swear  not  at  all."  "  Either  this 
is  not  the  Gospel,"  said  he,  "  or  we  are  not  Christians." 
Even  the  school  of  theology  in  Paris  did  not  scruple 
to  declare  before  the  parliament,  "  There  is  an  end  of 
religion,  if  the  study  of  Hebrew  and  Greek  is  per- 
mitted."^ 

If  here  and  there  among  the  clergy  some  learning 
existed,  it  was  not  in  sacred  literature.  The  Cicero- 
nians  of  Italy  affected  a  great  contempt  for  the  Bible, 
on  account  of  its  style  :  men  who  arrogated  to  them- 
selves the  title  of  priests  of  Christ's  Church,  translated 
the  words  of  the  Holy  Ghost  into  the  style  of  Virgil 
and  of  Horace,  to  accommodate  them  to  the  ears  of 
men  of  taste.  The  Cardinal  Bembo  wrote  always,  in- 
stead of  the  Holy  Spirit,  "  the  breath  of  the  celestial 
zephyr ;"  for  remission  of  sins  he  substituted  the 
"  city  of  the  Manes  and  of  the  Gods  ;"  and,  instead  of 

*  Gordon,  Tommasi,  Infessura,  Guicciardini,  Eccard,  &C. 
t  Letter  to  the  Cardinal  Elector  of  Mentz,  1525. 
i  Apologia  pro  Rep.  Christ. 
§  Miiller's  Reliq.  torn.  3,  p.  263. 


20 


EFFORTS  FOR  REFORM. 


Christ  the  Son  of  God,  "  Minerva  sprung  from  the 
brows  of  Jupiter."  Finding  one  day  the  respectable 
Sadoletus  employed  on  a  translation  of  the  Epistle  to 
the  Romans,  "  Leave  these  childish  productions,"  said 
he ;  "  such  puerilities  do  not  become  a  sensible  man."* 

Behold  some  of  the  consequences  of  the  system  that 
then  weighed  down  Christendom.  This  picture  no 
doubt  exhibits  in  strong  colours  both  the  corruption 
of  the  Church  and  the  need  of  reformation.  It  is  for 
that  reason  we  have  sketched  it.  The  vital  doctrines 
of  Christianity  had  almost  disappeared,  and  with  them 
the  life  and  light  which  constitute  the  essence  of  true 
religion.  The  internal  strength  of  the  Church  was 
gone,  and  its  lifeless  and  exhausted  frame  lay  stretched 
over  the  Roman  world. 

Who  shall  give  it  new  life  1  Whence  shall  we  look 
for  a  remedy  for  so  many  evils  1 

For  ages  a  reformation  in  the  church  has  been  loud- 
ly called  for,  and  all  the  powers  of  this  world  had  at- 
tempted it.  But  God  alone  could  bring  it  to  pass : 
and  he  began  by  humbling  the  power  of  man,  that  he 
might  exhibit  man's  helplessness.  We  see  human 
assailants,  one  after  another,  fail  and  break  to  pieces  at 
the  feet  of  the  Colossus  they  undertook  to  cast  down. 

First  temporal  princes  resisted  Rome.  The  whole 
power  of  the  Hohenstaufens,  heroes  who  wore  the  im- 
perial crown,  seemed  directed  to  humble  and  reform 
Rome,  and  deliver  the  nations,  and  especially  Germany, 
from  her  tyranny.  But  the  Castle  of  Canossa  gave 
proof  of  the  weakness  of  the  imperial  power  against 
the  usurped  dominion  of  the  Church.  A  warlike  prince, 
the  emperor  Henry  IV.,  after  a  long  and  fruitless  strug- 
gle against  Rome,  was  reduced  to  pass  three  days  and 
nights  in  the  trenches  of  that  Italian  fortress,  exposed 
to  the  winter's  cold,  stripped  of  his  imperial  robes,  bare- 
foot, in  a  scanty  woollen  garment,  imploring  with  tears 
and  cries  the  pity  of  Hildebrand,  before  whom  he 
kneeled,  and  who,  after  three  nights  of  lamentation, 
relaxed  his  papal  inflexibility,  and  pardoned  the  sup- 
pliant.f  Behold  the  power  of  the  high  and  mighty  of 
the  earth,  of  kings  and  emperors  against  Rome  ! 

To  them  succeeded  adversaries  perhaps  more  for- 
midable— men  of  genius  and  learning.  Learning 
awoke  in  Italy,  and  its  awakening  was  with  an  ener- 
getic protest  against  the  papacy.  Dante,  the  father  of 
Italian  poetry,  boldly  placed  in  his  Hell  the  most  power- 
ful of  the  popes  ;  he  introduced  St.  Peter  in  heaven 
pronouncing  stern  and  crushing  censures  on  his  un- 
worthy successors,  and  drew  horrible  descriptions  of 
the  monks  and  clergy.  Petrarch,  that  eminent  genius, 
of  a  mind  so  superior  to  all  the  emperors  and  popes  of 
his  time,  boldly  called  for  the  re-establishment  of  the 
primitive  order  of  the  Church.  For  this  purpose  he 
invoked  the  efforts  of  the  age  and  the  power  of  the 
emperor,  Charles  IV.  Laurentius  Valla,  one  of  the 
most  learned  men  of  Italy,  attacked  with  spirit  the  pre- 
tensions of  the  popes,  and  their  asserted  inheritance 
from  Constantine.  A  legion  of  poets,  learned  men, 
and  philosophers  followed  in  their  track ;  the  torch  of 
learning  was  everywhere  kindled,  and  threatened  to 
reduce  to  ashes  the  Romish  scaffolding  that  intercepted 
its  beams.  But  every  effort  failed  :  Pope  Leo  X.  en- 

*  Falleri  Monum.  ined.  p.  400. 

t  Pope  Hildebrand  himself  relates  the  event  in  these  words  : 
"  Tandem  rex  ad  oppidum  Canusii,  in  quo  morati  sumus,  cum 
paucis  advenit,  ibique  per  triduum  ante  portam,  deposito  omni 
regio  cultu  miserabiliter  utpote  discalceatus  etlaniis  inductus, 
persistens,  non  prius  cum  multo  fletu  apostolicse  miserationis 
auxilium  et  consolationem  implorare  destitit  quam  omnes  qui 
ibi  aderant  ad  tantam  pietatem  et  compassionis  misericordiam 
movit  ut,  pro  eo  multis  precibus  et  lacrymis  intercedentes 
omnes  quidem  insolitam  nostrre  mentis  duritiam  mirarentur 
nonnulli  vero  non  apostolicas  severitatis  gravitatem  sed  quasi 
tyrannic^  feritatia  crudelitatem  esse  clamareut."  (Lib.  iv.,  ep, 
12,  ad  Germanos.) 


isted  among  the  supporters  and  satellites  of  his  court, 
iterature,  poetry,  science,  and  arts  ;  and  these  came 
lumbly  kissing  the  feet  of  a  power  that  in  their  boasted 
nfancy  they  had  attempted  to  dethrone.  Behold  the 
>ower  of  letters  and  philosophy  against  Rome  ! 

At  last  an  agency  which  promised  more  ability  to 
reform  the  church  came  forward.  This  was  the  Church 
tself.  At  the  call  for  reformation,  reiterated  on  all 
sides,  and  which  had  been  heard  for  ages  past,  that 
most  imposing  of  ecclesiastical  conclaves,  the  Council 
of  Constance,  assembled.  An  immense  number  of 
cardinals,  archbishops,  bishops,  eighteen  hundred  doc- 
tors of  divinity,  and  priests  ;  the  emperor  himself,  with 
a  retinue  of  a  thousand  persons  ;  the  Elector  of  Saxo- 
ny, the  Elector  Palatine,  the  Duke  of  Bavaria  and 
Austria,  and  ambassadors  from  all  nations,  gave  to  this 
assembly  an  air  of  authority  unprecedented  in  the  his- 
tory of  Christianity.  Above  the  rest,  we  must  mention 
he  illustrious  and  immortal  doctors  of  the  University 
of  Paris,  the  Aillys,  the  Gersons,  the  Clemangnis — 
hose  men  of  piety,  learning,  and  courage  who,  by  their 
writings  and  eloquence,  communicated  to  the  council 
an  energetic  and  salutary  direction.  Everything  bowed 
before  this  assembly  ;  with  one  hand  it  deposed  three 

es  at  once,  while  with  the  other  it  delivered  John 
Huss  to  the  flames.  A  commission  was  named,  com- 
Dosed  of  deputies  from  different  nations,  to  propose  a 
undamental  reform.  The  Emperor  Sigismund  sup- 
ported the  proposition  with  the  whole  weight  of  his 

ver.  The  council  were  unanimous.  The  cardinals 
all  took  an  oath  that  he  among  them  who  should  be 
elected  pope  would  not  dissolve  the  assembly,  nor  leave 
Constance  before  the  desired  reformation  should  be 
accomplished.  Colonna  was  chosen  under  the  name 
of  Martin  V.  The  moment  was  come  which  was  to 
decide  the  reform  of  the  Church  ;  all  the  prelates,  the 
emperor,  the  princes,  and  the  representatives  of  different 
nations,  awaited  the  result  with  intense  desire.  "  The 
council  is  at  an  end,"  exclaimed  Martin  V.,  as  soon  as 
he  had  placed  the  tiara  on  his  brow.  Sigismund  and 
the  clergy  uttered  a  cry  of  surprise,  indignation,  and 
grief;  but  that  cry  was  lost  upon  the  winds.  On  the 
16th  of  May,  1418,  the  pope,  arrayed  in  the  pontifical 
garments,  mounted  a  mule  richly  caparisoned  ;  the 
emperor  was  on  his  right  hand,  the  Elector  of  Branden- 
burg on  his  left,  each  holding  the  reigns  of  his  palfrey  ; 
four  counts  supported  over  the  pope's  head  a  magnifi- 
cent canopy  ;  several  princes  surrounded  him  bearing 
the  trappings  ;  and  a  mounted  train  of  forty  thousand 
persons,  says  an  historian,  composed  of  nobles,  knights, 
and  clergy  of  all  ranks,  joined  in  the  solemn  procession 
outside  the  walls  of  Constance.  Then  indeed  did 
ROME,  in  the  person  of  her  pontiff  sitting  on  a  mule, 
inwardly  deride  the  superstition  that  surrounded  her; 
then  did  she  give  proof  that,  to  humble  her,  a  power 
must  be  exerted  far  different  from  anything  that  could 
be  put  in  motion  by  emperors,  or  kings,  or  bishops,  or 
doctors  of  divinity,  or  all  the  learning  of  the  age  and 
of  the  church. 

How  could  the  Reformation  proceed  from  the  very 
thing  to  be  reformed  1  How  could  the  wound  find  in 
itself  the  element  of  its  cure  1 

Nevertheless  the  means  employed  to  reform  the 
Church,  and  which  the  result  showed  to  be  inefficacious, 
contributed  to  weaken  the  obstacles,  and  prepared  the 
ground  for  the  Reformers. 

The  evils  which  then  afflicted  Christendom,  namely, 
superstition,  incredulity,  ignorance,  unprofitable  specu- 
lation, and  corruption  of  morals — evils  naturally  en- 
gendered in  the  hearts  of  men — were  not  new  on  the 
earth.  They  had  made  a  great  figure  in  the  history  of 
nations.  They  had  invaded,  especially  in  the  east, 
different  religious  systems  which  had  seen  their  times 


PROSPECTS  OF  CHRISTIANITY— STATE  OF  THE  PAPACY— INTERNAL  DIVISIONS.  21 


of  glory.  Those  enervated  systems  had  sunk  under 
these  evils,  and  not  one  of  them  had  ever  arisen  from 
its  fall. 

And  was  Christianity  now  to  undergo  the  same 
destiny!  Was  it  to  be  lost  like  those  old  religions  of 
the  nations  1  Was  the  blow  that  had  doomed  them  to 
death,  to  be  of  power  to  destroy  it  1  Was  there  nothing 
to  secure  its  preservation  1  And  these  opposing  forces 
which  overflowed  it,  and  which  had  already  dethroned 
so  many  various  systems  of  worship,  were  they  indeed 
to  have  power  to  seat  themselves,  without  resistance, 
on  the  ruins  of  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ'! 

No  :  there  is  in  Christianity  that  which  there  was 
not  in  any  of  these  national  systems.  It  does  not,  like 
them,  offer  certain  general  ideas,  mixed  with  tradition 
and  fables,  destined,  sooner  or  later,  to  fall  before  the 
march  of  human  reason  ;  but  it  contains  within  it  pure 
truth,  built  upon  facts  which  challenge  the  scrutiny  of 
any  upright  and  enlightened  mind.  Christianity  has 
for  its  object  not  merely  to  excite  in  man  certain  vague 
religious  feelings,  of  which  the  impression,  once  for- 
gotten, can  never  be  revived  ;  its  object  is  to  satisfy, 
and  it  does  in  reality  satisfy,  all  the  religious  wants  of 
human  nature,  in  whatever  degree  that  nature  may  be 
developed.  It  is  not  the  contrivance  of  man,  whose 
works  pass  away  and  are  forgotten,  but  it  is  the  work 
of  God,  who  upholds  what  he  creates  ;  and  it  has  the 
promise  of  its  Divine  Author  for  the  pledge  of  its 
duration. 

It  is  impossible  that  human  nature  can  ever  be  above 
the  need  of  Christianity.  And  if  ever  man  has  for  a 
time  fancied  that  he  could  do  without  it,  it  has  soon 
appeared  to  him,  clothed  in  fresh  youth  and  vigour,  as 
the  only  cure  for  the  human  soul ;  and  the  degenerate 
nations  have  returned  with  new  ardour  to  those  ancient, 
simple,  and  powerful  truths,  which,  in  the  hour  of  their 
infatuation,  they  despised. 

In  fact  Christianity  displayed,  in  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, the  same  regenerative  power  which  it  had  exer- 
cised in  the  first.  After  the  lapse  of  fifteen  hundred 
years,  the  same  truths  produced  the  same  effects.  In 
the  days  of  the  Reformation,  as  in  the  days  of  Peter 
and  Paul,  the  Gospel,  with  invincible  energy,  over- 
came mighty  obstacles.  The  efficacy  of  its  sovereign 
power  was  displayed  from  north  to  south  ;  amid  nations 
differing  most  widely  in  manners,  in  character,  and  in 
civilization.  Then,  as  in  the  times  of  Stephen  and  of 
James,  it  kindled  the  fire  of  enthusiasm  and  devotion 
in  the  midst  of  the  general  deadness,  and  raised  on  all 
sides  the  spirit  of  martyrs. 

How  was  this  revival  in  the  Church  and  in  the  world 
brought  to  pass  1 

An  observant  mind  might  then  have  discerned  two 
laws  by  which  God  governs  the  course  of  events. 

He  first  prepares  slowly,  and  from  afar,  that  which 
he  designs  to  accomplish.  He  has  ages  in  which  to 
work. 

Then,  when  his  time  is  come,  he  effects  the  greatest 
results  by  the  smallest  means.  He  acts  thus  in  nature 
and  in  providence.  For  the  production  of  a  gigantic 
tree  He  deposites  in  the  earth  a  tiny  seed  ;  for  the 
renovation  of  his  church  He  makes  use  of  the  mean- 
est instrument  to  accomplish  what  emperors,  learned 
men,  and  even  the  heads  of  that  church  have  failed  to 
effect !  We  shall  shortly  have  to  investigate  and  bring 
to  light  this  little  seed  that  a  divine  hand  placed  in  the 
earth  in  the  days  of  the  Reformation.  We  must  now 
distinguish  and  recognise  the  different  methods  by 
which  God  prepared  the  way  for  the  great  change. 

We  will  first  survey  the  condition  of  the  papacy  ; 
and  from  thence  we  will  carry  our  views  over  the  dif- 
ferent influences  which  God  caused  to  concur  to  the 
accomplishment  of  his  purposes. 


At  the  period  when  the  Reformation  was  on  the  point 
of  breaking  forth,  Rome  appeared  in  peace  and  safety. 
One  might  have  said  that  nothing  could  for  the  future 
disturb  her  triumph.  She  had  gained  great  and  decisive 
victories.  The  general  councils,  those  upper  and  lower 
senates  of  Catholicism,  had  been  subdued.  The  Vau- 
dois  and  the  Hussites  had  been  put  down.  No  uni- 
versity (except  perhaps  that  of  Paris,  which  sometimes 
raised  its  voice  at  the  instance  of  its  kings)  doubted  of 
the  infallibility  of  the  oracles  of  Rome.  Every  one 
seemed  to  take  part  with  its  power.  The  superior 
clergy  preferred  to  give  to  a  remote  head  the  tenth  of 
their  revenues,  and  quietly  to  consume  the  remainder, 
to  the  hazarding  of  all  for  the  acquisition  of  an  inde- 
pendence which  would  cost  dear,  and  bring  little  ad- 
vantage. The  humbler  clergy,  before  whom  were 
spread  the  prospects  and  baits  of  higher  dignities,  were 
willing  to  purchase  these  cherished  hopes  by  a  little 
slavery.  Add  to  which,  they  were  everywhere  so  over- 
awed by  the  heads  of  the  hierarchy,  that  they  could 
scarcely  move  under  their  powerful  hands,  and  much 
less  raise  themselves  and  make  head  against  them. 
The  people  bowed  the  knee  before  the  Roman  altar, 
and  even  kings,  who  began  in  secret  to  despise  the 
Bishop  of  Rome,  could  not  have  dared  to  raise  the 
hand  against  it,  lest  they  should  be  reputed  guilty  of 
sacrilege. 

But  if,  at  the  time  when  the  Reformation  broke  out, 
opposition  seemed  outwardly  to  have  subsided,  or  even 
ceased  altogether,  its  internal  strength  had  increased. 
If  we  take  a  nearer  view,  we  discern  more  than  one 
symptom  which  presaged  the  decline  of  Rome.  The 
general  councils  had,  in  their  fall,  diffused  their  princi- 
ples through  the  Church,  and  carried  disunion  into  the 
camp  of  those  who  iirfpugned  them.  The  defenders 
of  the  hierarchy  had  separated  into  two  parties  ;  those 
who  maintained  the  system  of  the  absolute  power  of 
the  pope,  according  to  the  maxims  of  Hildebrand  ;  and 
those  who  desired  a  constitutional  papacy,  offering 
securities  and  liberty  to  the  churches. 

To  this  we  may  add,  that  in  all  parties  faith  in  the 
infallibility  of  the  Roman  bishop  had  been  rudely  shaken. 
If  no  voice  was  raised  to  attack  him,  it  was  because 
every  one  was  anxious  to  retain  the  little  faith  he  still 
possessed.  The  slightest  shock  was  dreaded,  lest  it 
should  overturn  the  edifice.  The  Christianity  of  the 
age  held  in  its  breath ;  but  it  was  to  avoid  a  calamity 
in  which  it  feared  to  perish.  From  the  moment  when 
man  trembles  to  quit  a  once  venerated  creed,  he  no 
longer  holds  it,  and  he  will  soon  abandon  its  very  sem- 
blance. 

Let  us  see  what  had  brought  about  this  singular 
posture  of  mind.  The  Church  itself  was  the  primary 
cause.  The  errors  and  superstitions  she  had  intro- 
duced into  Christianity  were  not,  properly  speaking, 
what  had  so  fatally  wounded  her.  This  might  indeed 
be  thought,  if  the  nations  of  Christendom  had  risen 
above  the  Church  in  intellectual  and  religious  develope- 
ment.  But  there  was  an  aspect  of  the  question  level 
to  the  observation  of  the  laity,  and  it  was  under  that 
view  that  the  Church  was  judged  :  it  was  become  al- 
together earthly.  That  priestly  sway  which  governed 
the  world,  and  which  could  not  subsist  but  by  the 
power  of  illusion,  and  of  that  halo  which  invested  it, 
had  forgotten  its  true  nature,  and  left  Heaven  and  its 
sphere  of  light  and  glory,  to  immerse  itself  in  the  low 
interests  of  citizens  and  princes.  Born  to  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  spirit,  the  priesthood  had  forsaken  the 
spirit— for  the  flesh.  They  had  thrown  aside  the  trea- 
sures of  learning  and  the  spiritual  power  of  the  word, 
and  taken  up  the  brute  force  and  false  glory  of  the  age  : 
and  this  had  naturally  resulted.  It  was  truly  the  spi- 
ritual order  that  the  Church  had  at  first  attended  to 


22 


CARNALITY  OF  THE  CHURCH— POPULAR  FEELING— DOCTRINE. 


defend.  But  to  protect  it  against  the  resistance  and 
invasion  of  the  nations,  she  had,  from  false  policy,  had 
recourse  to  earthly  instruments  and  vulgar  weapons. 
When  once  the  Church  had  begun  to  handle  these 
weapons,  her  spiritual  -essence  was  lost.  Her  arm 
could  not  become  carnal  without  her  heart  becoming 
the  same  ;  and  the  world  soon  saw  her  former  character 
inverted.  She  had  attempted  to  use  earth  in  defence 
of  Heaven  :  she  now  employed  Heaven  itself  to  defend 
earthly  possessions.  Theocratic  forms  became,  in  her 
hands,  only  instruments  of  worldly  schemes.  The 
offerings  which  the  people  laid  at  the  feet  of  the  sove- 
reign pontiff  of  Christendom,  were  used  to  support  the 
luxury  of  his  court  and  the  charge  of  his  armies.  His 
spiritual  power  supplied  the  steps  by  which  he  placed 
his  feet  above  the  kings  and  nations  of  the  earth.  The 
charm  was  dispelled  ;  and  the  power  of  the  Church 
was  gone,  from  the  hour  that  men  could  say,  "  she  is 
become  as  one  of  us." 

The  great  were  the  first  to  scrutinize  the  title  to  this 
supposed  power.*  The  very  questioning  of  it  might 
possibly  have  sufficed  to  overturn  Rome.  But  it  was 
a  favourable  circumstance  on  her  side,  that  the  educa- 
tion of  the  princes  was  everywhere  in  the  hands  of  her 
adepts.  These  persons  inculcated  in  their  noble  pupils 
a  veneration  for  the  Roman  pontiffs.  The  chiefs  of 
nations  grew  up  in  the  sanctuary  of  the  Church.  Princes 
of  ordinary  minds  scarce  ever  got  beyond  it.  Many 
even  desired  nothing  better  than  to  be  found  within  it 
at  the  cl.ose  of  life.  They  chose  to  die  wearing  a 
monk's  cowl  rather  than  a  crown. 

Italy  was  mainly  instrumental  in  enlightening  the 
sovereigns  of  Europe.  They  had  to  contract  alliances 
with  the  popes,  which  had  reference  to  the  temporal 
prince  of  the  states  of  the  Church — and  not  to  the 
Bishop  of  bishops.  Kings  were  much  astonished  to 
find  the  popes  ready  to  sacrifice  some  of  the  asserted 
rights  of  the  pontiff,  that  they  might  retain  the  advan- 
tages of  the  prince.  They  saw  these  self  styled  organs 
of  truth  resort  to  all  the  petty  artifices  of  policy,  deceit, 
dissimulation,  and  even  perjury,  t  Then  it  was  that 
the  bandage  that  education  had  drawn  over  the  eyes 
of  secular  princes  fell  off.  It  was  then  that  the  artful 
Ferdinand  of  Arragon  had  recourse  to  stratagem  against 
stratagem  ;  it  was  then  that  the  impetuous  Louis  XII. 
struck  a  medal  with  this  legend,  Perdam  Babylonis 
nomen  ;t  and  the  respectable  Maximilian  of  Austria, 
grieved  at  hearing  of  the  treachery  of  Leo  X.,  exclaim- 
ed :  "  This  pope,  like  the  rest,  is,  in  my  judgment,  a 
scoundrel.  Henceforth  I  can  say  that  in  all  my  life 
no  pope  has  kept  his  faith  or  word  with  me.  I  hope, 
if  God  be  willing,  that  this  one  will  be  the  last  of 
them."<J 

Discoveries  of  this  sort  made  by  kings,  gradually  took 
effect  upon  the  people.  Many  other  causes  had  un- 
closed the  long  sealed  eyes  of  Christian  nations.  The 
most  reflecting  began  to  accustom  themselves  to  the 
idea  that  the  Bishop  of  Rome  was  a  man,  and  some- 
times even  a  very  bad  man.  The  people  began  to  sus- 
pect that  he  was  not  much  holier  than  their  own  bishops, 
whose  characters  were  very  doubtful.  But  the  popes 
themselves  contributed  more  than  any  single  cause  to 
their  own  dishonour.  Released  from  constraint  after 
the  Council  of  Basle,  they  gave  themselves  up  to  the 
boundless  licentiousness  of  victory.  Even  the  disso- 
lute Romans  shuddered.  The  rumours  of  these  dis- 
orders spread  through  other  countries.  The  people, 
incapable  of  arresting  the  torrent  that  swept  their  trea- 

*  Adrien  Baillet  Hist,  des  demeles  de  Boniface  VIII.  avec 
Philippe  le  Bel.    Paris,  1708. 
t  Guicciardini. 

j  I  will  extirpate  the  name  of  Babylon. 
4  Scultet.  Annal.  ad  an.  1520. 


sure  into  this  gulf  of  profligacy,  sought  amends  in 
hatred.* 

While  many  circumstances  contributed  to  sap 
what  then  existed,  there  were  others  tending  to  the 
production  of  something  new. 

The  singular  system  of  theology  that  had  established 
itself  in  the  Church,  was  fitted  powerfully  to  assist  in 
opening  the  eyes  of  the  rising  generation.  Formed  for 
a  dark  age,  as  if  the  darkness  were  to  endure  for 
ever,  this  system  was  destined  to  be  superseded  and 
scattered  to  the  winds  as  soon  as  the  age  should 
outgrow  it.  And  this  took  place.  The  popes  had 
added  now  this,  and  now  that  article  to  the  Christian 
doctrine.  They  had  changed  or  removed  only  what 
could  not  be  made  to  square  with  their  hierarchy  ;  what 
was  not  opposed  to  their  policy  was  allowed  to  remain 
during  pleasure.  There  were  in  this  system  true 
doctrines,  such  as  redemption,  the  power  of  the  Spirit 
of  God,  &c.,  which  an  able  theologian,  if  one  had  been 
found,  could  have  used  to  combat  and  overturn  the 
rest.  The  pure  gold  mixed  with  the  baser  metal  in 
the  mint  of  the  Vatican,  was  enough  to  reveal  the 
fraud.  It  is  true,  that  if  any  courageous  opponent  took 
notice  of  it,  the  winnowing  fan  of  Rome  was  imme- 
diately se't  to  work  to  cast  the  pure  grain  forth.  But 
these  rejections  and  condemnations  did  but  augment 
the  confusion. 

That  confusion  was  without  bounds,  and  the  asserted 
unity  was  but  one  vast  disorder.  At  Rome  there  were 
the  doctrines  of  the  court  and  the  doctrines  of  the 
church.  The  faith  of  the  metropolis  differed  from  that 
of  the  provinces.  Even  in  the  provinces  there  was  an 
infinite  diversity  of  opinion.  There  was  the  creed  of 
princes,  of  people,  and,  above  all,  of  the  religious 
orders.  There  were  the  opinions  of  this  convent,  of 
that  district,  of  this  doctor,  and  of  that  monk. 

Truth,  that  it  might  pass  safe  through  the  period 
when  Rome  would  have  crushed  it  with  her  iron 
sceptre,  had  acted  like  the  insect  that  weaves  with  its 
threads  the  chrysalis  in  which  it  envelopes  itself  during 
the  winter.  And,  strange  to  say,  the  means  that  had 
served  in  this  way  to  preserve  the  truth,  were  the 
scholastic  divines  so  much  decried.  These  ingenious 
artisans  of  thought  had  strung  together  all  the  current 
theological  notions,  and  of  these  threads  they  had 
formed  a  net,  under  which  it  would  have  been  difficult 
for  more  skilful  persons  than  their  contemporaries  to 
recognise  the  truth  in  its  first  purity.  We  may  regret 
that  the  insect,  full  of  life,  and  so  lately  shining  with 
the  brightest  colours,  should  wrap  itself  in  its  dark 
and  seemingly  inanimate  covering  ;  but  that  covering 
preserves  it.  It  was  thus  with  the  truth.  If  the 
interested  and  suspicious  policy  of  Rome,  in  the  days 
of  her  power,  had  met  with  the  naked  truth,  she  would 
have  destroyed  it,  or  at  least  endeavoured  to  do  so. 
Disguised  as  it  was  by  the  divines  of  that  period, 
under  endless  subtleties  and  distinctions,  the  popes 
did  not  recognise  it,  or  else  perceived  that  while  in 
that  state  it  could  not  trouble  them.  They  took  under 
their  protection  both  the  artisans  and  their  handiwork. 
But  the  spring  might  come,  when  the  hidden  truth 
might  lift  its  head,  and  throw  off  all  the  threads  which 
covered  it.  Having  acquired  fresh  vigour  in  its 
seeming  tomb,  the  world  might  behold  it,  in  the  days 
of  its  resurrection,  obtain  the  victory  over  Rome  and 
all  her  errors.  This  spring  arrived.  At  the  same 
time  that  the  absurd  coverings  of  the  scholastic  divines 
fell,  one  after  another,  beneath  the  skilful  attacks  or 
derisions  of  a  new  generation,  the  truth  escaped  from 
its  concealment  in  full  youth  and  beauty. 

*  Odium  Romani  nominis  penitus  infixum  esse  multarnm 
gentium  animis  opinor,  ob  ea  qua;  vulgo  de  moribus  ejus  urbis 
jactantur.  (Erasmi  Epist.  Ub.  xii.,  p.  634.) 


DEVELOPEMENT  OF  MIND— REVIVAL  OF  LETTERS— PHILOSOPHY. 


23 


It  was  not  only  from  the  writings  of  the  scholastic 
divines  that  powerful  testimony  was  rendered  to  the 
truth.  Christianity  had  everywhere  mingled  something 
of  its  own  life  with  the  life  of  the  people.  The  Church 
of  Christ  was  a  dilapidated  building  :  but  in  digging 
there  were  in  some  parts  discovered  in  its  foundations 
the  living  rock  on  which  it  had  been  first  built.  Some 
institutions  which  bore  date  from  the  best  days  of  the 
Church  still  existed,  and  could  not  fail  to  awaken  in 
many  minds  evangelical  sentiments  opposed  to  the 
reigning  superstition.  The  inspired  writers,  the  earliest 
teachers  of  the  Church,  whose  writings  were  deposited 
in  different  libraries,  uttered  here  and  there  a  solitary 
voice.  It  was  doubtless  heard  in  silence  by  many  an 
attentive  ear.  Let  us  not  doubt  (and  it  is  a  consoling 
thought)  that  Christians  had  many  brethren  and  sisters 
in  those  very  monasteries  wherein  we  are  too  apt  to 
see  nothing  but  hypocrisy  and  dissoluteness. 

It  was  not  only  old  things  that  prepared  the  revival 
of  religion  ;  there  was  also  something  new  which 
tended  powerfully  to  favour  it.  The  human  mind  was 
advancing.  This  fact  alone  would  have  brought  on  its 
enfranchisement.  The  shrub,  as  it  increases  in  its 
growth,  throws  down  the  walls  near  which  it  was 
planted,  and  substitutes  its  own  shade  for  theirs.  The 
High  Priest  of  Rome  had  made  himself  the  guardian  of 
the  nations.  His  superiority  of  understanding  had 
rendered  this  office  easy  ;  and  for  a  long  time  he  kept 
them  in  a  state  of  tutelage  and  forced  subjection.  But 
they  were  now  growing  and  breaking  bounds  on  all 
sides.  This  venerable  guardianship,  which  had  its 
origin  in  the  principles  of  eternal  life  and  of  civiliza- 
tion, communicated  by  Rome  to  the  barbarous  nations, 
could  no  longer  be  exercised  without  resistance.  A 
formidable  adversary  had  taken  up  a  position  opposed 
to  her,  and  sought  to  control  her.  The  natural  dispo- 
sition of  the  human  mind  to  develope  itself,  to  examine 
and  to  acquire  knowledge,  had  given  birth  to  this  new 
power.  Men's  eyes  were  opening  ;  they  demanded  a 
reason  for  every  step  from  this  long-respected  con- 
ductor, under  whose  guidance  they  had  marched  in 
silence,  so  long  as  their  eyes  were  closed.  The  infancy 
of  the  nations  of  modern  Europe  was  passed  ;  a  period 
of  ripe  age  was  arrived.  To  a  credulous  simplicity, 
disposed  to  believe  everything,  had  succeeded  a  spirit 
of  curiosity,  an  intelligence  impatient  to  discover  the 
foundations  of  things.  They  asked  of  each  other  what 
was  the  design  of  God  in  speaking  to  the  world  1  and 
whether  men  had  a  right  to  set  themselves  up  as 
mediators  between  God  and  their  brethren.  One  thing 
alone  could  have  saved  the  Church  ;  and  this  was  to 
rise  stiil  higher  than  the  laity.  To  keep  on  a  level 
with  them  was  not  enough.  But,  on  the  contrary,  the 
Church  was  greatly  behind  them.  It  began  to  decline 
just  when  they  began  to  arise.  While  the  laity  were 
ascending  in  the  scale  of  intelligence,  the  priesthood 
was  absorbed  in  earthly  pursuits  and  worldly  interests. 
A  like  phenomenon  has  been  often  seen  in  history. 
The  eaglet  had  become  full  fledged,  and  there  was 
none  who  could  reach  it  or  prevent  its  taking  flight. 

While  in  Europe  the  light  was  thus  issuing  from  the 
prisons  in  which  it  had  been  held  captive,  the  east  was 
sending  new  lights  to  the  west.  The  standard  of  the 
Osmanlis,  planted  in  1453  on  the  walls  of  Constan- 
tinople, had  driven  thence  the  learned  of  that  city. 
They  had  carried  Grecian  literature  into  Italy.  The 
torch  of  antiquity  rekindled  the  intellectual  flame  which 
had  for  so  many  ages  been  extinguished.  Printing, 
then  recently  discovered,  multiplied  the  energetic 
protests  against  the  corruption  of  the  Church,  and  the 
not  less  powerful  calls  which  summoned  the  human 
niinJ  to  new  paths.  There  was  at  that  time,  as  it 
were,  a  burst  of  light.  Errors  and  vain  ceremonies 


were  exposed.  But  this  light,  well  suited  to  destroy, 
was  most  unfit  to  build  up.  It  was  not  given  to 
Homer  or  Virgil  to  rescue  the  Church. 

The  revival  of  letters,  of  science,  and  of  the  arts 
was  not  the  moving  principle  of  the  Reformation.  We 
may  rather  say  that  the  paganism  of  the  poets,  when 
it  reappeared  in  Italy,  brought  with  it  the  paganism  of 
the  heart.  Vain  superstitions  were  attacked  ;  but  it 
was  incredulity  that  established  itself  in  their  stead, 
with  a  smile  of  disdain  and  mockery.  Ridicule  of  all 
things,  even  the  most  sacred,  was  the  fashion,  and 
deemed  the  mark  of  wit.  Religion  was  regarded  only 
as  an  instrument  of  government.  "  I  have  one  fear," 
exclaimed  Erasmus  in  1516 ;  "  it  is,  that  with  the  study 
of  ancient  literature  the  ancient  paganism  should  re- 
appear." 

True,  the  world  saw  then,  as  after  the  mockeries  of 
the  Augustan  age,  and  as  in  our  own  times  after  those 
of  the  last  century,  a  new  Platonic  philosophy,  which, 
in  its  turn,  attacked  this  impudent  incredulity  ;  and 
sought,  like  the  philosophy  of  our  own  days,  to  inspire 
respect  for  Christianity,  and  reanimate  the  sentiments 
of  religion.  At  Florence  the  medici  favoured  these 
efforts  of  the  Platonists.  But  never  can  philosophical 
religion  regenerate  the  Church  or  the  world.  Proud — 
despising  the  preaching  of  the  cross — pretending  to  see 
in  the  Christian  dogmas  only  types  and  symbols  unin- 
telligible to  the  majority  of  minds — it  may  evaporate 
in  mystical  enthusiasm,  but  must  ever  be  powerless  to 
reform  or  to  save. 

What,  then,  would  have  ensued,  if  true  Christianity 
had  not  reappeared  in  the  world — and  if  true  faith  had 
not  replenished  the  heart  with  its  strength  and  holiness  ? 
The  Reformation  saved  religion,  and  with  it  society 
If  the  Church  of  Rome  had  had  at  heart  the  glory  of 
God  and  the  happiness  of  nations,  she  would  have 
welcomed  the  Reformation  with  joy.  But  what  were 
these  to  a  Leo  X.  1 

In  Germany  the  study  of  ancient  learning  had  effects 
the  very  reverse  of  those  which  attended  it  in  Italy 
and  France.  It  was  '•  mixed  with  faith."  What  had, 
n  the  latter,  produced  only  a  certain  trivial  and  sterile 
refinement  of  taste,  penetrated  the  lives  and  habits  of 
the  Germans,  warmed  their  hearts,  and  prepared  them 
for  a  better  light.  The  first  restorers  of  letters  in 
Italy  and  in  France  were  remarkable  for  their  levity  ; 
often  for  their  immorality.  The  German  followers, 
with  a  grave  spirit,  sought  zealously  for  truth.  There 
was  formed  in  that  country  a  union  of  free,  learned, 
and  generous  individuals,  among  whom  were  some  of 
the  princes  of  the  land,  and  who  laboured  to  render 
science  useful  to  religion.  Some  of  them  brought  to 
their  studies  the  humble  teachableness  of  children  : 
others,  an  enlightened  and  penetrating  judgment, 
ncliried  perhaps  to  overstep  the  limits  of  sound  and 
deliberate  criticism  ;  but  both  contributed  to  clear 
the  passages  of  the  temple,  hitherto  obstructed  by  so 
many  superstitions. 

The  monkish  theologians  perceived  the  danger,  and 
they  began  to  clamour  against  the  very  same  studies 
that  they  had  tolerated  in  Italy  and  France,  because 
hey  were  there  mixed  with  levity  and  dissoluteness. 

conspiracy  was  entered  into  against  languages  and 
sciences,  for  in  their  rear  they  perceived  the  true  faith. 
One  day  a  monk,  cautioning  some  one  against  the 
leresies  of  Erasmus,  was  asked  "  in  what  they 
consisted  ?"  He  confessed  he  had  not  read  the  work 
le  spoke  of,  and  could  but  allege  "  that  it  was  written 
n  too  good  Latin." 

Still  all  these  exterior  causes  would  have  been  insuffi- 
cient to  prepare  the  renovation  of  the  Church. 

Christianity  had  declined,  because  the  two  guiding 
ruths  of  the  new  covenant  had  been  lost.  The  first, 


24       PRINCIPLE  OF  REFORMATION— WITNESSES— MYSTICS— WICKLIF— HUSS. 


in  contra-distinction  to  Church  assumption,  is  th 
immediate  relation  existing  between  every  individua 
soul  and  the  Fountain  of  Truth  ;  ^he  second,  (and  thi 
stood  directly  opposed  to  the  idea  of  merit  in  huma 
works,)  is  the  doctrine  of  salvation  by  Grace.  Of  thes 
two  principles,  immutable  and  immortal  in  themselve 
— for  ever  true,  however  slighted  or  corrupted — which 
it  might  then  have  been  asked,  was  to  be  first  se 
in  motion,  and  give  the  regenerative  impulse  to  th< 
Church  1  Was  it  to  be  the  former,  the  principle  o 
Church  authority  ]  or  was  it  to  be  the  latter,  th 
energy  of  the  Spirit1!  In  our  days  men  pretend  t 
operate  through  the  social  condition,  upon  the  soul 
through  human  nature  in  general,  upon  individua 
character.  It  will  be  concluded  that  the  principle  of  i 
church  was  prominent,  in  the  movement :  history  ha 
shown  the  very  contrary  :  it  has  proved  that  it  is  b) 
individual  influence  that  an  impression  is  produced  on 
the  community,  and  that  the  first  step  toward  restoring 
the  social  condition  is,  to  regenerate  the  soul.  Al 
the  efforts  for  melioration  witnessed  in  the  middle 
ages  arose  out  of  religious  feeling  ;  the  question  ol 
authority  was  never  mooted  till  men  were  compellec 
to  defend  against  the  hierarchy  the  newly-discoverec 
truth.  It  was  the  same  in  later  times,  in  Luther's 
case.  When  the  Truth  that  saves  appears  on  the  one 
side,  sustained  by  the  authority  of  God's  word — and 
on  the  other,  the  error  that  destroys,  backed  by  the 
power  of  the  Roman  hierarchy,  Christians  cannot  long 
hesitate  ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  most  specious  sophisms 
and  the  fairest  credentials,  the  claim  to  authority  is 
soon  disposed  of. 

The  Church  had  fallen  because  the  great  doctrine  o 
Justification  through  faith  in  Christ  had  been  lost.  It 
was,  therefore,  necessary  that  this  doctrine  should  be 
restored  to  her  before  she  could  arise.  Whenever  this 
fundamental  truth  should  be  restored,  all  the  errors  and 
devices  which  had  usurped  its  place,  the  train  of  saints, 
works,  penances,  masses,  and  indulgences,  would 
vanish.  The  moment  the  ONE  Mediator  and  his  ONE 
sacrifice  were  acknowledged,  all  other  mediators  and 
all  other  sacrifices  would  disappear.  "  This  article  of 
justification,"  says  one*  whom  we  may  look  upon  as 
enlightened  on  the  subject,  "  is  that  which  forms  the 
Church,  nourishes  it,  builds  it  up,  preserves  and 
defends  it.  No  one  can  well  teach  in  the  Church,  or 
successfully  resist  its  adversary,  if  he  continue  not  in 
his  attachment  to  this  grand  truth."  "  It  is,"  adds  the 
Reformer,  referring  to  the  earliest  prophecy,  "  the 
heel  that  crushes  the  serpent's  head." 

God,  who  was  then  preparing  his  work,  raised  up, 
during  a  long  course  of  ages,  a  succession  of  witness- 
es to  this  truth.  But  the  generous  men  who  bore 
testimony  to  this  truth,  did  not  clearly  comprehend  it, 
or  at  least  did  not  know  how  to  bring  it  distinctly 
forward.  Incapable  of  accomplishing  the  work,  they 
were  well  suited  to  prepare  it.  We  may  add  also,  that 
if  they  were  not  prepared  for  this  work,  the  work  itself 
was  not  ready  for  them.  The  measure  was  not  yet 
full ;  the  need  of  the  true  remedy  was  not  yet  felt  so 
extensively  as  was  necessary. 

Thus,  instead  of  felling  the  tree  at  the  root,  by 
preaching  chiefly  and  earnestly  the  doctrine  of  salvation 
by  grace,  they  confined  themselves  to  questions  of 
ceremonies,  to  the  government  of  the  Church,  to  forms 
of  worships  to  the  adoration  of  saints  and  images,  or  to 
the  transubstantiation,  &c. ;  and,  thus  limiting  their 
efforts  to  the  branches,  they  might  succeed  in  pruning 
the  tree  here  and  there,  but  they  left  it  still  standing. 
In  order  to  a  salutary  reformation  without,  there  must 
be  a  real  reformation  within.  And  faith  alone  can 
effect  this. 

*  Luther  to  Brentius. 


Scarcely  had  Rome  usurped  power,  before  a  vigorous 
opposition  was  formed  against  her  ;  and  this  endured 
throughout  the  middle  ages. 

Archbishop  Claudius,  of  Turin,  in  the  ninth  century, 
Peter  of  Bruys,  his  pupil  Henry,  Arnold  of  Brescia,  in 
the  twelfth  century,  in  France  and  Italy,  laboured  to 
restore  the  worship  of  God  in  spirit  and  in  truth  ;  but 
they  sought  that  worship  too  much  in  the  riddance 
from  images  and  outward  ceremony. 

The  Mystics,  who  have  existed  in  almost  every  age, 
seeking  in  silence,  holiness,  righteousness  of  life,  and 
quiet  communion  with  God,  beheld  with  alarm  and 
sorrow  the  wretched  condition  of  the  Church.  They 
carefully  abstained  from  the  quarrels  of  the  schools, 
and  all  the  unprofitable  discussions  beneath  which  true 
piety  had  been  well  nigh  buried.  They  laboured  to 
turn  men  from  the  empty  form  of  an  outward  worship, 
from  noise  and  pomp  of  ceremonies,  that  they  might 
lead  them  to  the  inward  peace  of  the  soul  that  seeks  all 
its  happiness  in  God.  They  could  not  do  this  without 
coming  in  collision  with  all  the  received  opinions,  and 
exposing  the  wounds  of  the  Church ;  but  still  even 
they  had  no  clear  views  of  the  doctrine  of  justification 
by  faith. 

Far  superior  to  the  Mystics  in  purity  of  doctrine,  th& 
Vaudois  formed  a  long-continued  chain  of  witnesses 
for  the  truth.  Men  more  free  than  the  rest  of  the 
Church  appear  from  early  times  to  have  inhabited  the 
summits  of  the  Piedmontese  Alps.  Their  numbers  had 
'ncreased,  and  their  doctrine  had  been  purified  by  the 
disciples  of  Valdo.  From  the  heights  of  their  mountains 
the  Vaudois  protested  for  ages  against  the  superstitions 
of  Rome.*  "  They  contended,"  said  they,  "  for  their 
ively  hope  in  God  through  Christ ;  for  regeneration 
and  inward  renewal  by  faith,  hope,  and  charity  ;  for 
the  merits  of  Christ,  and  the  all-sufficiency  of  his  grace 
and  righteousness.''! 

And  yet  this  primary  truth  of  the  Justification  of  the 
sinner,  which  ought  to  rise  pre-eminent  above  other 
doctrines,  like  Mount  Blanc  above  the  surrounding 
Alps,  was  not  sufficiently  prominent  in  their  system. 

Pierre  Vaud,  or  Valdo,  a  rich  merchant  of  Lyons, 
A.D.  1170,)  sold  all  his  goods  and  gave  to  the  poor, 
ie  and  his  friends  appear  to  have  had  for  their  object 
o  re-establish,  in  the  intercourse  of  life,  the  perfection 
if  primitive  Christianity.  He  began  then,  like  others, 
it  the  branches,  and  not  at  the  root.  Nevertheless, 
lis  preaching  was  powerful ;  for  he  recalled  the  minds 
if  his  hearers  to  the  Scriptures  which  menaced  the 
loman  hierarchy  in  its  foundation. 

In  1360  Wicklif  made  his  appearance  in  England, 
nd  appealed  from  the  pope  to  the  Word  of  God  ;  but 
he  real  inward  wound  of  the  Church  appeared  to  him 
s  only  one  of  many  symptoms  of  its  malady. 

John  Huss  preached  in  Bohemia  a  century  before 
juther  appeared  in  Saxony.  He  seemed  to  enter  more 
eeply  than  all  who  had  gone  before  him,  into  the 
ssence  of  Christian  truth.  He  besought  Christ  to 
rant  him  grace  to  glory  only  in  his  cross,  and  in  the 
nestimable  humiliation  of  his  sufferings.  But  he 
ttacked  rather  the  lives  of  the  clergy  than  the  errors 
f  the  Church.  And  yet  he  was,  if  we  may  be  allowed 
ie  expression,  the  John  the  Baptist  of  the  Reformation, 
i'he  flames  of  his  martyrdom  kindled  a  fire  which  shed 
n  extensive j  light  in  the  midst  of  the  general  gloom, 
nd  was  destined  not  to  be  speedily  extinguished. 

John  Huss  did  more :  prophetic  words  resounded 
rom  the  depths  of  his  dungeon.  He  foresaw  that  a 
eal  reformation  of  the  Church  was  at  hand.  When 
riven  from  Prague,  and  compelled  to  wander  in  the 

*  Nobla  Leycon. 

t  Treatise  on  Antichrist,  a  work  contemporary  with  the 
fobla  Leycon. 


WITNESSES— THE  EMPIRE. 


fields  of  Bohemia,  where  he  was  followed  by  an 
immense  crowd  eager  to  catch  his  words,  he  exclaimed  : 
"  The  wicked  have  begun  by  laying  treacherous 
snares  for  the  goose.*  But  if  even  the  goose,  which 
is  only  a  domestic  fowl,  a  tame  creature,  and  unable  to 
rise  high  in  the  air,  has  yet  broken  their  snares,  other 
birds,  whose  flight  carries  them  boldly  toward  heaven, 
will  break  them  with  much  more  power.  Instead  of 
a  feeble  goose,  the  truth  will  send  forth  eagles  and 
keen-eyed  falcons."!  The  Reformers  fulfilled  this 
prediction. 

And  when  the  venerable  priest  was  summoned,  by 
order  of  Sigismund,  before  the  Council  of  Constance, 
and  cast  into  prison,  the  Chapel  of  Bethlehem,  where 
he  had  proclaimed  the  Gospel  and  the  future  triumphs 
of  Christ,  employed  his  thoughts  more  than  his  own 
defence.  One  night  the  holy  martyr  thought  he  saw, 
from  the  depths  of  his  dungeon,  the  pictures  of  Christ, 
which  he  had  had  painted  on  the  walls  of  his  oratory, 
effaced  by  the  pope  and  his  bishops.  This  dream 
distressed  him.  Next  night  he  saw  several  painters 
engaged  in  restoring  the  figures  in  greater  numbers 
and  more  vivid  colouring ;  and,  this  work  performed, 
the  painters,  surrounded  by  an  immense  multitude, 
exclaimed  :  "  Now  let  the  popes  and  bishops  come 
when  they  will,  they  will  never  again  be  able  to  efface 
them."  "  And  many  persons  thereupon  rejoiced  in 
Bethlehem,  and  I  among  them,"  adds  Huss.  "  Think 
of  your  defence  rather  than  of  your  dreams,"  said  his 
faithful  friend,  the  Chevalier  de  Chlum,  to  whom  he 
had  imparted  his  dream.  "  I  am  no  dreamer,"  replied 
Huss  ;  "  but  I  hold  it  certain  that  the  image  of  Christ 
will  never  be  effaced.  They  desired  to  destroy  it,  but 
it  will  be  imprinted  anew  on  the  hearts  of  men  by  much 
better  preachers  than  myself.  The  nation  that  loves 
Christ  will  rejoice  at  this.  And  I,  awaking  from  the 
dead,  and  rising,  as  it  were,  from  the  grave,  shall  leap 
for  joy."J  , 

A  century  elapsed;  and  the  Gospel  torch,  rekindled 
by  the  Reformers,  did  in  truth  enlighten  many  nations, 
who  rejoiced  in  its  beams. 

But  it  was  not  only  among  those  whom  Rome 
regarded  as  her  adversaries,  that  a  life-giving  word 
was  heard  at  that  period.  Catholicism  itself — and  we 
may  take  comfort  from  the  thought — reckons  among 
its  own  members  numerous  witnesses  for  the  truth. 
The  primitive  edifice  had  been  consumed  ;  but  a  holy 
fire  smouldered  beneath  its  ashes,  and  from  time  to 
time  bright  sparks  were  seen  to  escape. 

Anselm  of  Canterbury,  in  a  work  for  the  use  of  the 
dying,  exhorted  them  "  to  look  solely  to  the  merits 
of  Jesus  Christ." 

A  monk,  named  Arnoldi,  offered  up  every  day  in 
his  peaceful  cell  this  fervent  prayer:  "Oh,  Lord 
Jesus  Christ!  I  believe  that  in  thee  alone  I  have 
redemption  and  righteousness."^ 

A  pious  bishop  of  Bale,  Christopher  de  Utenheim, 
had  his  name  written  upon  a  picture  painted  on  glass, 
which  is  still  at  Bale,  and  round  it  this  motto,  which 
he  wished  to  have  always  before  him  :  "  My  hope  is  in 
the  cross  of  Christ ;  I  seek  grace,  and  not  works."!! 

A  poor  Carthusian,  brother  Martin,  wrote  this  affect- 
ing confession  :  "  Oh,  most  merciful  God  !  I  know  that 
I  can  only  be  saved,  and  satisfy  thy  righteousness,  by 
the  merit,  the  innocent  suffering,  and  death  of  thy  well- 
beloved  son.  Holy  Jesus  !  my  salvation  is  in  thy  hands. 
Thou  canst  not  withdraw  the  hands  of  thy  love  from 

*<The  word  Huss  in  Bohemian  signifying  goose, 
t  Epist.  J.  Huss  tempore  anathematis  scripts, 
j  Huss,  epp.  sub  tempus  concilii  scripts. 
§  Credo  quod  tu,  mi  Domine,  Jesu  Christe  solus  eg  mea 
justitiaet  redemptio.    Leibnitz  script.  Brunsw.  iii.,  369. 
||  Spes  mea  crux  Christi ;  gratiam  non  opera  quasro. 

D 


me  ;  for  they  have  created,  and  formed,  and  redeemed 
me.  Thou  hast  inscribed  my  name  with  a  pen  of  iron, 
in  rich  mercy,  and  so  as  nothing  can  efface  it,  on  thy 
side,  thy  hands,  and  thy  feet,"  &c.  After  this  the 
good  Carthusian  placed  his  confession  in  a  wooden 
box,  and  enclosed  the  box  in  a  hole  he  had  made  in 
the  wall  of  his  cell.* 

The  piety  of  brother  Martin  would  never  have  been 
known,  if  his  box  had  not  been  found  on  the  twenty- 
first  of  December,  1776,  in  taking  down  an  old  building 
which  had  been  part  of  the  Carthusian  convent  at 
Bale.  How  many  convents  may  have  concealed 
similar  treasures  ! 

But  these  holy  men  only  held  this  faith  themselves, 
and  did  not  know  how  to  communicate  it  to  others. 
Living  in  retirement,  they  might  more  or  less  adopt 
the  words  of  good  brother  Martin,  written  in  his  box  : 
"  Et  si  hac  prccdicta  confiteri  non  possim  lingua, 
confiteor  tarnen  corde  ct  scripto.  If  I  cannot  confess 
these  things  with  my  tongue,  I  at  least  confess  them 
with  my  pen  and  with  my  heart."  The  word  of  truth 
was  laid  up  in  the  sanctuary  of  many  a  pious  mind, 
but,  to  use  an  expression  in  the  Gospel,  it  had  not  free 
course  hi  the  world. 

If  men  did  not  openly  confess  the  doctrine  of  salva- 
tion, they  at  least  did  not  fear,  even  within  the  pale 
of  the  Romish  Church,  boldly  to  protest  against  the 
abuses  which  disgraced  it.  Italy  itself  had  at  that 
time  her  witnesses  against  the  priesthood.  The  Do- 
minican, Savaronola,  preached  at  Florence  in  1498 
against  the  insupportable  vices  of  Rome ;  but  the 
powers  that  then  were,  despatched  him  by  the  inquisi- 
tion and  the  stake. 

Geiler  of  Kaisersberg  was  for  three-and- thirty  years 
the  great  preacher  of  Germany.  He  attacked  the 
clergy  with  energy.  "  When  the  summer  leaves  turn 
yellow,"  said  he,  "  we  say  that  the  root  is  diseased; 
and  thus  it  is  a  dissolute  people  proclaim  a  corrupted 
priesthood."  "  If  no  wicked  man  ought  to  say  mass," 
said  he  to  his  bishop,  "  drive  out  all  the  priests  from 
your  diocess."  The  people,  hearing  this  courageous 
minister,  learned  even  in  the  sanctuary  to  see  the 
enormities  of  their  spiritual  guides. 

This  state  of  things  in  the  Church  itself  deserves  our 
notice.  When  the  Wisdom  of  God  shall  again  utter 
his  teachings,  there  will  everywhere  be  understandings 
and  hearts  to  comprehend.  When  the  sower  shall 
again  come  forth  to  sow,  he  will  find  ground  prepared 
to  receive  the  seed.  When  the  word  of  truth  shall 
resound,  it  will  find  echoes  to  repeat  it.  When  the 
trumpet  shall  utter  a  war-note  in  the  Church,  many 
of  her  children  will  prepare  themselves  to  the  battle. 

We  are  arrived  near  the  scene  on  which  Luther 
appeared.  Before  we  begin  the  history  of  that  great 
commotion  which  caused  to  shoot  up  in  all  its  brilliancy 
that  light  of  truth  which  had  been  so  long  concealed, 
and  which,  by  renovating  the  Church,  renovated  so 
many  nations,  and  called  others  into  existence,  creating 
a  new  Europe  and  a  new  Christianity,  let  us  take  a 
glance  at  the  different  nations  in  the  midst  of  whom 
this  revolution  in  religion  took  place. 

The  empire  was  a  confederacy  of  different  states, 
with  the  emperor  at  their  head.  Each  of  these  states 
possessed  sovereignty  over  its  own  territory.  The 
Imperial  Diet,  composed  of  all  the  princes,  or  sovereign 
states,  exercised  the  legislative  power  for  the  whole  of 
the  Germanic  body.  The  emperor  ratified  the  laws, 
decrees,  or  resolutions  of  this  assembly,  and  it  was  his 
office  to  publish  and  execute  them.  The  seven  more 

*  Sciens  posse  me  aliter  non  salvari  et  tibi  satisfacere  nisi 
per  meritum.  etc.  See  for  the  citations,  and  many  other*, 
Flaccius  Catal.  Test  Veritatis  ;  Wolfii  Lect  Memorabilefl  j 
Muller's  Reliquien,  etc. 


PEACE— STATE  OF  THE  PEOPLE— STATE  OF  GERMANY. 


26 


powerful  princes,  under  the  title  of  electors,  had  the 
privilege  of  awarding  the  imperial  crown. 

The  princes  and  states  of  the  Germanic  confederacy 
had  been  anciently  subjects  of  the  emperors,  and  held 
their  lands  of  them.  But,  after  the  accession  of  Ro- 
dolphof  Hapsburg,  (1273,)  a  series  of  troubles  had  taken 
place,  in  which  princes,  free  cities,  and  bishops  acquired 
a  considerable  degree  of  independence,  at  the  expense 
of  the  imperial  sovereign. 

The  north  of  Germany,  inhabited  chiefly  by  the  old 
Saxon  race,  had  acquired  most  liberty.  The  emperor, 
incessantly  attacked  by  the  Turks  in  his  hereditary 
possessions,  was  disposed  to  keep  on  good  terms  with 
courageous  chiefs  and  communities,  whose  alliance  was 
then  necessary  to  him.  Several  free  cities  in  the  north- 
west and  south  of  Europe  had,  by  commerce,  manufac- 
tures, and  industry,  attained  a  considerable  degree  of 
prosperity,  and,  by  that  means,  of  independence.  The 
powerful  house  of  Austria,  which  wore  the  crown  of  the 
empire,  controlled  the  majority  of  the  states  of  central 
Germany,  overlooked  their  movements,  and  was  pre- 
paring to  extend  its  dominion,  over  and  beyond  the 
•whole  empire,  when  the  Reformation  interposed  a 
powerful  barrier  to  its  encroachments,  and  saved  the 
liberties  of  Europe. 

If,  in  the  time  of  St.  Paul,  or  of  Ambrose,  of  Austin, 
of  Chrysostom,  or  even  in  the  days  of  Anselm  and  Ber- 
nard, the  question  had  been  asked,  what  people  or 
nation  God  would  be  likely  to  use  to  reform  the  Church 
— the  thought  might  have  turned  to  the  countries 
honoured  by  the  apostles'  ministry — to  Asia,  to  Greece, 
or  to  Rome,  perhaps  to  Britain  or  to  France,  where 
men  of  great  learning  had  preached  ;  but  none  would 
have  thought  of  the  barbarous  Germans.  All  other 
countries  of  Christendom  had,  in  their  turn,  shone  in 
the  history  of  the  Church ;  Germany  alone  had  con- 
tinued dark.  Yet  it  was  Germany  that  was  chosen. 

God,  who  prepared  during  four  thousand  years  the 
advent  of  his  Messiah,  and  led  through  different  dis- 
pensations, for  many  ages,  the  people  among  whom  he 
was  to  be  born,  also  prepared  Germany  in  secret  and 
unobserved,  unknown  indeed  even  to  itself,  to  be  the 
cradle  of  a  religious  regeneration,  which,  in  a  later 
day,  should  awaken  the  various  nations  of  Christendom. 

As  Judea,  the  birth-place  of  our  religion,  lay  in  the 
centre  of  the  ancient  world,  so  Germany  was  situate  in 
the  midst  of  Christian  nations.  She  looked  upon  the 
Netherlands,  England,  France,  Switzerland,  Italy,  Hun- 
gary, Bohemia,  Poland,  Denmark,  and  the  whole  of  the 
north.  It  was  fit  that  the  principle  of  life  should  de- 
velope  itself  in  the  heart  of  Europe,  that  its  pulses 
might  circulate  through  all  the  arteries  of  the  body  the 
generous  blood  designed  to  vivify  its  members. 

The  particular  form  of  constitution  that  the  empire 
had  received,  by  the  dispensations  of  Providence, 
favoured  the  propagation  of  new  ideas.  If  Germany 
had  been  a  monarchy,  strictly  so  called,  like  France  or 
England,  the  arbitrary  will  of  the  sovereign  might  have 
sufficed  to  delay  for  a  long  time  the  progress  of  the 
Gospel.  But  it  was  a  confederacy.  The  truth,  opposed 
in  one  state,  might  be  received  with  favour  by  another. 
Important  centres  of  light,  which  might  gradually  pene- 
trate through  the  darkness,  and  enlighten  the  surround- 
ing population,  might  be  quickly  formed  in  different 
districts  of  the  empire. 

The  internal  peace  which  Maximilian  had  given  to 
the  empire  was  no  less  favourable  to  the  Reformation. 
For  a  long  while  the  numerous  members  of  the  Ger- 
manic body  had  laboured  to  disturb  each  other.  No- 
thing had  been  seen  but  confusions,  quarrels,  wars 
incessantly  breaking  out  between  neighbours,  cities, 
and  chiefs.  Maximilian  had  laid  a  solid  basis  of  public 
order  by  instituting  the  imperial  chamber  appointed  to 


settle  all  differences  between  the  states.  The  Germans, 
after  so  many  confusions  and  anxieties,  saw  a  new  sera 
of  safety  and  repose.  This  condition  of  affairs  power- 
fully contributed  to  harmonize  the  general  mind.  It 
was  now  possible  in  the  cities  and  peaceful  valleys  of 
Germany  to  seek  and  adopt  meliorations  which  dis- 
cord might  have  banished.  We  may  add  that  it  is  in 
the  bosom  of  peace  that  the  Gospel  loves  most  to  gain- 
its  blessed  victories.  Thus  it  had  been  tl>e  will  of  God, 
fifteen  centuries  before,  that  Augustus  should  present 
a  pacified  world  for  the  blessed  triumphs  of  Christ's 
religion^  Nevertheless  the  Reformation  performed  a 
double  part  in  the  peace  then  beginning  for  the  empire. 
It  was  as  much  cause  as  effect.  Germany,  when 
Luther  appeared,  offered  to  the  contemplation  of  an 
observer  the  sort  of  movement  which  agitates  the  sea 
after  a  continued  storm.  The  calm  did  not  promise 
to  be  lasting.  The  first  breath  might  again  call  up  the 
tempest.  We  shall  see  more  than  one  example  of  this. 
The  Reformation,  by  communicating  anew  impulse  to> 
the  population,  destroyed  for  ever  the  old  motives  of 
agitation.  It  made  an  end  of  the  system  of  barbarous 
times,  and  gave  to  Europe  one  entirely  new. 

Meanwhile  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  had  had  its- 
accustomed  influejxre  on  Germany.  The  common 
people  had  rapidly  advanced  ;  numerous  institutions 
arose  in  the  empire,  and  particularly  in  the  free  cities — 
well  adapted  to  develope  the  minds  of  the  mass  of  the 
people.  The  arts  flourished  ;  the  burghers  followed  in 
security  their  peaceable  labours  and  the  duties  of  social! 
life.  They  gradually  opened  to  information,  and  thus 
acquired  respect  and  influence.  It  was  not  magistrates 
bending  conscience  to  political  expediency,  or  nobles 
emulous  of  military  glory,  or  a  clergy  seeking  gain  or 
power,  and  regarding  religion  as  their  peculiar  property, 
who  were  to  be  the  founders  of  the  Reformation  in 
Germany.  It  was  to  be  the  work  of  the  bourgeoisie — 
of  the  people — of  the  whole  nation. 

The  peculiar  character  of  the  Germans  was  such  as 
especially  to  favour  a  reformation  in  religion.  A  false 
civilization  had  not  enfeebled  them.  The  precious 
seeds  that  a  fear  of  God  deposites  in  a  nation  had  not 
been  scattered  to  the  winds.  Ancient  manners  still 
subsisted.  There  was  in  Germany  that  uprightness, 
fidelity,  love  and  toil,  and  perseverance — that  religious 
habit  of  mind — which  we  still  find  there,  and  which 
presages  more  success  to  the  Gospel  than  the  scornful 
or  brutal  levity  of  other  European  nations. 

Another  circumstance  may  have  contributed  to 
render  Germany  a  soil  more  favourable  to  the  revival 
of  Christianity  than  many  other  countries.  God  had 
fenced  it  in  ;  he  had  preserved  its  strength  for  the  day 
of  its  giving  birth  to  his  purpose.  It  had  not  fallen 
from  the  faith  after  a  period  of  spiritual  vigour,  as  had 
been  the  case  with  the  churches  of  Asia,  of  Greece,  of 
Italy,  of  France,  and  of  Britain.  The  Gospel  had 
never  been  offered  to  Germany  in  its  primitive  purity ; 
the  first  missionaries  who  visited  the  country  gave  t» 
it  a  religion  already  vitiated  in  more  than  one  particu- 
lar. It  was  a  law  of  the  Church,  a  spiritual  discipline, 
that  Boniface  and  his  successors  carried  to  the  Frisons, 
the  Saxons,  and  other  German  nations.  Faith  in  the 
"  good  tidings,"  that  faith  which  rejoices  the  heart  and 
makes  it  free  indeed,  had  remained  unknown  to  them. 
Instead  of  being  slowly  corrupted,  the  religion  of  the 
Germans  had  rather  been  purified  Instead  of  declin- 
ing, it  had  arisen.  It  was,  indeed,  to  be  expected  that 
more  life  and  spiritual  strength  would  be  found  among 
this  people  than  among  those  enervated  nations  of 
Christendom  where  deep  darkness  had  succeeded  to 
the  light  of  truth,  and  an  almost  universal  corruption 
had  taken  place  of  the  sanctity  of  the  earliest  times. 

We  may  make  the  like  remark  on  the  exterior  rela- 


SWITZERLAND. 


27 


tion  between  the  Germanic  body  arid  the  Church.  The 
Germans  had  received  from  Rome  that  element  of 
modern  civilization,  the  faith.  Instruction,  legislation, 
all,  save  their  courage  and  their  weapons,  had  come  to 
them  from  the  Sacerdotal  city.  Strong  ties  had  from 
that  time  attached  Germany  to  the  papacy.  The 
former  was  a  spiritual  conquest  of  the  latter,  and  we 
know  to  what  use  Rome  has  ever  turned  her  conquests. 
Other  nations,  which  had  held  the  faith  and  civilization 
before  the  Roman  pontiff  existed,  had  continued  in 
more  independence  of  him.  But  this  subjection  of 
Germany  was  destined  only  to  make  the  reaction  more 
powerful  at  the  moment  of  awakening.  When  Ger- 
inany  should  open  her  eyes,  she  would  indignantly  tear 
away  the  trammels  in  which  she  had  been  so  long 
kept  bound  The  very  measure  of  slavery  she  had 
had  to  endure  would  make  her  deliverance  and  liberty 
more  indispensable  to  her,  and  strong  champions  of  the 
truth  would  come  forth  from  the  enclosure  of  control 
and  restriction  in  which  her  population  had  for  ages 
been  shut  up. 

When  we  take  a  nearer  view  of  the  times  of  the 
Reformation,  we  see,  in  the  government  of  Germany, 
still  farther  reasons  to  admire  the  wisdom  of  Him  by 
whom  kings  reign  and  princes  execute  judgment. 
There  was  at  that  time  something  resembling  what 
has,  in  our  own  days,  been  termed  a  system  of  see-saw. 
When  an  energetic  sovereign  presided  over  the  empire, 
the  imperial  power  was  strengthened  ;  on  the  other 
hand,  when  he  was  of  feeble  character,  the  authority 
of  the  electors  gained  force. 

Under  Maximilian,  the  predecessor  of  Charles  V., 
this  alternate  rise  and  depression  of  the  various  states 
was  especially  remarkable.  At  that  time  the  balance 
was  altogether  against  the  emperor.  The  princes  had 
repeatedly  formed  close  alliances  with  one  another. 
The  emperors  themselves  had  urged  them  to  do  so,  in 
order  that  they  might  direct  them  at  one  effort  against 
some  common  enemy.  But  the  strength  that  the 
princes  acquired  from  such  alliances  against  a  passing 
danger,  might,  at  an  after  period,  be  turned  against  the 
encroachments  or  power  of  the  emperor.  This  did 
indeed  ensue.  At  no  period  had  the  electors  felt  them- 
selves more  independent  of  their  head  than  at  the 
period  of  the  Reformation.  And  their  head  having 
taken  part  against  it,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  this  state  of 
things  was  favourable  to  the  propagation  of  the  Gospel. 

We  may  add  that  Germany  was  weary  of  what  the 
Romans  contemptuously  termed  "  the  patience  of  the 
Germans. "  The  latter  had,  in  truth,  manifested  much 
patience  ever  since  the  time  of  Louis  of  Bavaria. 
From  that  period  the  emperors  had  laid  down  their 
arms,  and  the  ascendency  of  the  tiara  over  the  crown 
of  the  Caesars  was  acknowledged.  But  the  battle  had 
only  changed  its  field.  It  was  to  be  fought  on  lower 
ground.  The  same  contests,  of  which  emperors  and 
popes  had  set  the  example,  were  quickly  renewed  in 
miniature,  in  all  the  towns  of  Germany,  between  bish- 
ops and  magistrates.  The  commonalty  had  caught  up 
the  sword  dropped  by  the  chiefs  of  the  empire.  As 
early  as  1329,  the  citizens  of  Frankfort  on  the  Oder  had 
resisted,  with  intrepidity,  their  ecclesiastical  superiors. 
Excommunicated  for  their  fidelity  to  the  Margrave 
Louis,  they  had  remained  twenty-eight  years  without 
masses,  baptisms,  marriage  or  funeral  rites.  And 
afterward,  when  the  monks  and  priests  reappeared,  they 
had  openly  ridiculed  their  return  as  a  farce.  Deplora- 
ble irreverence,  doubtless  ;  but  of  which  the  clergy 
themselves  were  the  cause.  At  the  epoch  of  the 
Reformation  the  animosity  between  the  magistrates 
and  the  ecclesiastics  had  increased.  Every  hour  the 
privileges  and  temporal  possessions  of  the  clergy  gave 
rise  to  collision.  If  the  magistrates  refused  to  give 


way,  the  bishops  and  priests  imprudently  had  recourse 
to  the  extreme  means  at  their  disposal.  Sometimes 
the  pope  interfered  ;  and  it  was  to  give  an  example  of 
the  most  revolting  partiality,  or  to  endure  the  humi- 
liating necessity  of  leaving  the  triumph  in  the  hands 
of  the  commons,  obstinately  resolved  to  maintain  their 
right.  These  continual  conflicts  had  filled  the  cities 
with  hatred  and  contempt  of  the  pope,  and  the  bishops, 
and  the  priests. 

But  not  only  among  the  burgomasters,  counsellors, 
and  town  clerks  did  Rome  and  the  clergy  find  adver- 
saries ;  they  had  opponents  both  above  and  below  the 
middle  classes  of  society.  From  the  commencement 
of  the  sixteenth  century  the  Imperial  Diet  displayed 
an  inflexible  firmness  against  the  papal  envoys.  In 
May,  1510,  the  states  assembled  at  Augsburg  handed 
to  the  emperor  a  statement  of  ten  leading  grievances 
against  the  pope  and  clergy  of  Rome.  About  the  same 
time  there,  was  a  violent  ferment  among  the  populace. 
It  broke  out  in  1512,  in  the  Rhenish  provinces  ;  where 
the  peasantry,  indignant  at  the  weight  of  the  yoke  im- 
posed by  their  ecclesiastical  sovereigns,  formed  among 
themselves  the  League  of  the  Shoes. 

Thus,  on  all  side,  from  above  and  from  beneath,  was 
heard  a  low  murmur,  the  forerunner  of  the  thunderbolt 
that  was  about  to  fall.  Germany  appeared  ripe  for  the 
work  appointed  for  the  sixteenth  century.  Providence, 
in  its  slow  course,  had  prepared  all  things ;  and  even 
the  passions  which  God  condemns  were  to  be  turned 
by  His  power  to  the  fulfilment  of  his  purposes. 

Let  us  take  a  view  of  other  nations. 

Thirteen  small  republics,  placed  with  their  allies  in 
the  centre  of  Europe,  among  mountains  which  compose, 
as  it  were,  its  citadel,  formed  a  simple  and  brave  popu- 
lation. Who  would  have  thought  of  looking  to  these 
obscure  valleys  for  the  men  whom  God  would  choose 
to  be,  jointly  with  the  children  of  the  Germans,  the 
liberators  of  the  Church  1  Who  would  have  guessed 
that  poor  and  unknown  villages,  just  raised  above  bar- 
barism— hidden  among  inaccessible  mountains,  in  the 
extremity  of  lakes  never  named  in  history — would,  in 
their  connexion  with  Christianity,  eclipse  Jerusalem, 
Antioch,  Ephesus,  Corinth,  and  Rome  1  Yet  so  it  was. 
Such  was  the  will  of  Him  who  causeth  it  to  rain  upon 
one  city,  and  causeth  it  not  to  rain  upon  another  city, 
and  maketh  his  showers  to  descend  on  one  piece  of 
land,  while  another  withereth  under  drought.  Amos 
4:  7. 

Circumstances  of  another  kind  seemed  to  surround 
with  multiplied  rocks  the  course  of  the  Reformation  in 
the  bosom  of  the  Swiss  population.  If,  in  a  monarchy, 
it  had  to  fear  the  hindrances  of  power,  in  a  democracy 
it  was  exposed  to  the  hazards  of  the  precipitation  of 
the  people.  True,  this  Reformation,  which,  in  the 
states  of  the  empire,  could  but  advance  slowly  and  step 
by  step,  might  have  its  success  decided  in  one  day  in 
the  general  council  of  the  Swiss  republic.  But  it  was 
necessary  to  guard  against  an  imprudent  haste,  which, 
unwilling  to  wait  a  favourable  moment,  should  abruptly 
introduce  innovations  otherwise  most  useful,  and  so 
compromise  the  public  peace,  the  constitution  of  the 
state,  and  even  the  future  prospects  of  the  Reforma- 
tion itself. 

But  Switzerland  also  had  had  its  preparations.  It 
was  a  wild  tree,  but  one  of  generous  nature,  which  had 
been  guarded  in  the  depth  of  the  valleys,  that  it  might 
one  day  be  grafted  with  a  fruit  of  the  highest  value. 
Providence  nad  diffused  among  this  recent  people 
principles  of  courage,  independence,  and  liberty,  des- 
tined to  manifest  all  their  strength  when  the  signal  of 
conflict  with  Rome  should  be  given.  The  pope  had 
conferred  on  the  Swiss  the  title  of  protectors  of  the 
liberties  of  the  Church  ;  but  it  seems  they  had  under- 


ITALY— SPAIN. 


stood  this  honourable  name  in  a  totally  different  sense 
from  the  pontiff.  If  their  soldiers  guarded  the  pope  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  capitol,  their  citizens,  in  the 
bosom  of  the  Alps,  carefully  guarded  their  own  religious 
liberties  against  the  invasion  of  the  pope  and  of  the 
clergy.  Ecclesiastics  were  forbidden  to  have  recourse 
to  any  foreign  jurisdiction.  The  "  lettre  des  pretres  " 
was  a  bold  protest  of  Swiss  liberty  against  the  corrup- 
tions and  power  of  the  clergy.  Zurich  was  especially 
distinguished  by  its  courageous  opposition  to  the  claims 
of  Rome.  Geneva,  at  the  other  extremity  of  Switzer- 
land, struggled  against  its  bishops.  Doubtless  the  love 
of  political  independence  may  have  made  many  of  its 
citizens  forget  the  true  liberty  ;  but  God  had  decreed 
that  this  love  of  independence  should  lead  others  to  the 
reception  of  a  doctrine  which  should  truly  enfranchise 
the  nation.  These  two  leading  cities  distinguished 
themselves  among  all  the  rest  in  the  great  struggle  we 
have  undertaken  to  describe.  • 

But  if  the  Helvetic  towns,  open  and  accessible  to 
meliorations,  were  likely  to  be  drawn  early  within  the 
current  of  the  Reformation,  the  case  was  very  different 
with  the  mountain  districts.  It  might  have  been  thought 
that  these  communities,  more  simple  and  energetic  than 
their  confederates  in  the  towns,  would  have  embraced 
with  ardour  a  doctrine  of  which  the  characteristics  were 
simplicity  and  force :  but  He  who  said,  "  At  that  time 
two  men  shall  be  in  the  field,  the  one  shall  be  taken 
and  the  other  left,"  saw  fit  to  leave  these  mountaineers, 
while  He  took  the  men  of  the  plain.  Perhaps  an  at- 
tentive observer  might  have  discerned  some  symptoms 
of  the  difference  which  was  about  to  manifest  itself 
between  the  people  of  the  town  and  of  the  hills.  In- 
telligence had  not  penetrated  to  those  heights.  Those 
Cantons,  which  had  founded  Swiss  liberty,  proud  of 
the  part  they  had  played  in  the  grand  struggle  for  inde- 
pendence, were  not  disposed  to  be  tamely  instructed 
by  their  younger  brethren  of  the  plain.  Why,  they 
might  ask,  should  they  change  the  faith  in  which  they 
had  expelled  the  Austrians,  and  which  had  consecrated, 
by  altars,  all  the  scenes  of  their  triumphs  1  Their 
priests  were  the  only  enlightened  guides  to  whom  they 
could  apply ;  their  worship  and  their  festivals  were 
occupation  and  diversion  for  their  tranquil  lives,  and 
enlivened  the  silence  of  their  peaceful  retreats.  They 
continued  closed  against  religious  innovations. 

Passing  the  Alps,  we  find  ourselves  in  that  Italy 
which,  in  the  eyes  of  many,  was  the  Holy  Land  of 
Christianity.  Whence  would  Europe  look  for  good 
to  the  Church  but  from  Italy,  and  from  Rome  itself? 
The  power  which  placed  successively  upon  the  ponti- 
fical chair  so  many  different  characters,  might  it  not 
one  day  place  thereon  a  pontiff  who  should  become  an 
instrument  of  blessing  to  the  Lord's  heritage  1  Even 
ff  no  hope  was  to  be  placed  on  the  popes,  were  there 
not  there  bishops  and  councils  which  would  reform  the 
Church  ?  Nothing  good  can  come  out  of  Nazareth  ; 
it  must  proceed  from  Jerusalem — from  Rome.  Such 
might  have  been  the  thoughts  of  men,  but  God's 
thoughts  were  not  as  theirs.  He  says,  "  Let  him  that 
is  filthy  be  filthy  still;"  Rev.  22:  11 ;  and  He  left 
Italy  to  its  unrighteousness.  Many  causes  conspired 
to  deprive  this  unhappy  country  of  Gospel  light.  Its 
different  states,  sometimes  rivals,  sometimes  enemies, 
came  into  violent  collision  as  often  as  they  were  shaken 
by  any  commotion.  This  land  of  ancient  glory  was  by 
turns  the  prey  of  intestine  wars  and  foreign  invasions  ; 
the  stratagems  of  policy,  the  violence  of  factions,  the 
agitation  of  battles,  seemed  to  be  its  sole  occupation, 
and  to  banish  for  a  long  time  the  Gospel  of  peace. 

Italy,  broken  to  pieces,  and  without  unity,  appeared 
but  little  suited  to  receive  one  general  impulse.  Every 
frontier  line  was  a  new  barrier,  where  truth  would  be 


stopped  and  challenged,  if  it  sought  to  cross  the  Alps, 
or  to  land  on  those  smiling  shores.  It  was  true,  the 
papacy  was  then  planning  a  union  of  all  Italy,  desiring, 
as  Pope  Julius  expressed  it,  to  expel  the  barbarians — 
that  is,  the  foreign  princes  ;  and  she  hovered  like  a  bird 
of  prey  over  the  mutilated  and  palpitating  members  of 
ancient  Italy.  But  if  she  had  gained  her  ends,  we 
may  easily  believe  that  the  Reformation  would  not 
have  been  thereby  advanced. 

Arid  if  the  truth  was  destined  to  come  to  them  from 
the  north,  how  could  the  Italians,  so  enlightened,  of  so 
refined  a  taste  and  social  habits,  so  delicate  in  their 
own  eyes,  condescend  to  receive  anything  at  the  hands 
of  the  barbarous  Germans.  Their  pride,  in  fact,  raised 
between  the  Reformation  and  themselves  a  barrier 
higher  than  the  Alps.  But  the  very  nature  of  their 
mental  culture  was  a  still  greater  obstacle  than  the 
presumption  of  their  hearts.  Could  men  who  admired 
the  elegance  of  a  well-cadenced  sonnet  more  than  the 
majestic  simplicity  of  the  Scriptures,  be  a  propitious 
soil  for  the  seed  of  God's  word  1  A  false  civilization 
is,  of  all  conditions  of  a  nation,  that  which  is  most 
repugnant  to  the  Gospel. 

Finally,  whatever  might  be  the  state  of  things  to 
Italy — Rome  was  always  ROME.  Not  only  did  the 
temporal  power  of  the  popes  incline  the  several  parties 
in  Italy  to  court  at  any  cost  their  alliance  and  favour, 
but,  in  addition  to  this,  the  universal  sway  of  Rome 
offered  more  than  one  inducement  to  the  avarice  and 
vanity  of  the  Italian  states.  Whenever  it  should 
become  a  question  of  emancipation  of  the  rest  of  the 
world  from  the  yoke  of  Rome,  Italy  would  again 
become  Italy  !  domestic  quarrels  would  not  be  suffered 
to  prevail  to  the  advantage  of  a  foreign  system ;  arid 
attacks  directed  against  the  head  of  the  peninsula 
would  immediately  call  up  the  affections  and  common 
interests  from  their  long  sleep. 

The  Reformation,  then,  had  little  prospect  of  success 
in  that  country.  Nevertheless,  there  were  found  within 
its  confines  souls  prepared  to  receive  the  Gospel  light, 
and  Italy  was  not  then  entirely  disinherited. 

Spain  possessed  what  Italy  did  not — a  serious  and 
noble  people,  whose  religious  mind  had  resisted  even 
the  stern  trial  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  of  the 
revolution,  and  maintained  itself  to  our  own  days.  In 
every  age  this  people  has  had  among  its  clergy  men  of 
piety  and  learning,  and  it  was  sufficiently  remote  from 
Rome  to  throw  off  without  difficulty  her  yoke.  There 
are  few  nations  wherein  one  might  more  reasonably 
iave  hoped  for  a  revival  of  that  primitive  Christianity 
which  Spain  had  probably  received  from  St.  Paul 
limself.  And  yet  Spain  did  not  then  stand  up  among 
:he  nations.  She  was  destined  to  be  an  example  of 
,hat  word  of  the  Divine  Wisdom,  "  The  first  shall  be 
ast."  Various  circumstances  conduced  to  this  deplo- 
rable result. 

Spain,  considering  its  isolated  position,  and  remote- 
ness from  Germany,  would  feel  but  slightly  the  shocks 
of  the  great  earthquake  which  shook  the  empire.  But 
more  than  this,  she  was  busily  occupied  in  seeking 
reasure  very  different  from  that  which  the  Word  of 
God  was  then  offering  to  the  nations.  In  her  eyes  the 
new  world  outshone  the  eternal  world.  A  virgin  soil, 
which  seemed  to  be  composed  of  gold  and  silver, 
nflamed  the  imagination  of  her  people.  An  eager 
desire  after  riches  left  no  room  in  the  heart  of  the 
Spaniard  for  nobler  thoughts.  A  powerful  clergy, 
laving  the  scaffolds  and  the  treasures  of  the  land  at 
,heir  disposal,  ruled  the  peninsula.  Spain  willingly 
rendered  to  its  priests  a  servile  obedience,  which, 
releasing  it  from  spiritual  preoccupations,  left  it  to 
bllow  its  passions,  and  go  forward  in  quest  of  riches, 
and  discoveries  of  new  continents.  Victorious  over 


PORTUGAL— FRANCE— LOW  COUNTRIES— ENGLAND. 


29 


the  Moors,  she  had,  at  the  expense  of  her  noblest  blood, 
thrown  down  the  crescent  from  the  towers  of  Granada, 
and  many  other  cities,  and  planted  in  its  place  the  cross 
of  Jesus  Christ.  This  great  zeal  for  Christianity 
which  promised  so  much — turned  against  the  truth— 
for  could  Catholic  Spain,  that  had  triumphed  over 
infidels,  refuse  to  oppose  heretics!  How  could  a 
people  who  had  expelled  Mahomet  from  their  noble 
country,  allow  Luther  to  make  way  in  it  1  Their 
kings  went  farther.  They  fitted  out  their  fleets  against 
the  Reformation.  They  went  forth  to  meet  and 
conquer  it  in  England  and  in  Holland.  But  these 
attacks  had  the  effect  of  elevating  the  nations  assailed  ; 
and,  'ere  long,  their  power  crushed  the  power  of  Spain. 
Thus  those  Catholic  countries  lost,  owing  to  the  Refor- 
mation, that  very  temporal  wealth  which  had  led  them 
at  the  first  to  reject  the  spiritual  liberty  of  the  Gospel. 
Yet  the  Spanish  nation  was  generous  and  brave  ;  and 
many  of  its  noble  people,  with  equal  ardour,  and  better 
knowledge  than  those  who  had  rushed  upon  the  swords 
of  the  Arabs,  gave  up  their  lives  at  the  stake  to  the 
Inquisition. 

Portugal  was  nearly  in  the  same  condition  as  Spain. 
Emanuel  the  Fortunate  gave  to  it  an  "age  of  gold," 
which  tended  to  unfit  it  for  that  self-denial  which 
Christianity  requires.  The  nation,  precipitating  itself 
on  the  newly-discovered  routes  to  India  and  the  Brazils, 
turned  its  back  upon  Europe  and  the  Reformation. 

Few  countries  seemed  likely  to  be  better  disposed 
than  France  for  the  reception  of  the  evangelical 
doctrines.  Almost  all  the  intellectual  and  spiritual  life 
of  the  middle  ages  was  concentrated  in  her.  It  might 
have  been  said  that  the  paths  were  everywhere  trodden 
for  a  grand  manifestation  of  the  truth.  Men  of  the 
most  opposite  characters,  and  whose  influence  over 
the  people  had  been  most  powerful,  had  in  some  degree 
countenanced  the  Reformation.  Saint  Bernard  had 
set  the  example  of  that  heartfell  faith,  that  inward 
piety,  which  is  the  most  beautiful  feature  of  its 
character.  Abelard  had  introduced  into  the  study  of 
theology  the  rational  principle  which,  though  incapable 
of  developing  the  truth,  is  yet  powerful  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  error.  Many  heretics,  so  called,  had  revived 
the  light  of  God's  word  in  the  provinces.  The  Univer- 
sity of  Paris  had  placed  itself  in  opposition  to  the 
Church,  and  had  not  feared  to  combat  it.  In  the 
beginning  of  the  fifteenth  century  the  Clemangis  and 
the  Gersons  had  spoken  out  with  undaunted  courage. 
The  Pragmatic  Sanction  had  been  a  grand  act  of  inde- 
pendence, and  promised  to  be  the  palladium  of  Gallic 
liberty.  The  French  nobility,  numerous,  jealous  of 
their  pre-eminence,  and  having  at  this  period  been 
gradually  deprived  of  their  privileges  by  the  growing 
power  of  their  kings,  must  have  been  favourably  dis- 
posed toward  a  religious  change  which  might  restore 
to  them  some  portion  of  the  independence  they  had 
lost.  The  people,  of  quick  feelings,  intelligent,  and 
susceptible  of  generous  emotions,  were  as  open,  or 
even  more  so,  than  most  other  nations,  to  the  truth. 
It  seemed  as  if  the  Reformation  must  be,  among  them, 
the  birth  which  should  crown  the  travail  of  several 
centuries.  But  the  chariot  of  France,  which  for  so 
many  generations  seemed  to  be  advancing  to  the  same 
goal,  suddenly  turned  at  the  moment  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, and  took  a  contrary  direction.  Such  was  the  will 
of  Him  who  rules  nations  and  their  kings.  The  prince, 
then  seated  in  the  chariot,  and  holding  the  reins,  and 
who,  as  a  patron  of  learning,  seemed  likely  to  be  fore- 
most in  promoting  the  Reformation,  turned  his  people 
in  another  direction.  The  augury  of  ages  was  deceived, 
and  the  impulse  given  to  France  was  spent  and  lost  in 
struggles  against  the  ambition  and  fanaticism  of  her 
kings.  The  race  of  Valois  deprived  her  of  her  rights. , 


Perhaps,  if  she  had  received  the  Gospel,  she  might  have 
become  too  powerful.  God  had  chosen  a  weaker  peo- 
ple— a  people  that,  as  yet,  was  not — to  be  the  depo- 
sitory of  his  truth.  France,  after  having  been  almost 
reformed,  found  herself,  in  the  result,  Romari  Catholic. 
The  sword  of  her  princes,  cast  into  the  scale,  caused 
it  to  incline  in  favour  of  Rome.  Alas  !  another  sword, 
that  of  the  Reformers  themselves,  insured  the  failure 
of  the  effort  for  reformation.  The  hands  that  had 
become  accustomed  to  warlike  weapons,  ceased  to  be 
lifted  up  in  prayer.  It  is  by  the  blood  of  its  confessors, 
not  by  that  of  its  adversaries,  that  the  Gospel  triumphs. 
Blood  shed  by  its  defenders,  extinguishes  and  smothers 
it.  Francis  I.,  in  the  very  beginning  of  his 'reign, 
eagerly  sacrificed  the  Pragmatical  Sanction  to  the 
papacy,  substituting  a  concordat  detrimental  to  France, 
and  advantageous  to  the  crown  and  to  the  pope. 
Maintaining  by  his  sword  the  rights  of  the  German 
Protestants  at  war  with  his  rival,  this  "  father  of  the 
sciences  "  plunged  it  up  to  the  hilt  in  the  hearts  of 
his  own  reformed  subjects.  His  successors  did,  from 
motives  of  fanaticism,  or  weakness,  or  to  silence  the 
clamours  of  a  guilty  conscience,  what  he  had  done  for 
ambition.  They  met,  indeed,  with  a  powerful  resis- 
tance, but  it  was  not  always  such  as  the  martyrs  of  the 
first  ages  had  opposed  to  their  pagan  persecutors. 
The  strength  of  the  Protestants  was  the  source  of  their 
weakness  ;  their  success  drew  after  it  their  ruin. 

The  Low  Countries  formed,  at  that  period,  one  of  the 
most  flourishing  portions  of  Europe.  Its  population 
was  industrious,  better  informed  owing  to  its  numerous 
connexions  with  different  regions  of  the  earth,  full  of 
courage,  and  passionately  attached  to  its  independence, 
its  privileges,  and  its  liberty.  On  the  very  borders  of 
Germany,  it  would  be  the  first  to  hear  the  report  of  the 
Reformation  ;  it  was  capable  of  receiving  it.  But  all 
did  not  receive  it.  To  the  poor  it  was  given  to  receive 
the  truth-  The  hungry  were  filled  with  good  things, 
and  the  rich  sent  empty  away.  The  Netherlands,  which 
had  always  been  more  or  less  connected  with  the  em- 
pire, had  forty  years  before  fallen  to  the  possession  of 
Austria,  and,  after  Charles  V.,  they  devolved  to  the 
Spanish  branch,  and  so  to  the  ferocious  Philip.  The 
princes  and  governors  of  this  ill-fated  country  trampled 
the  Gospel  under  foot,  and  waded  through  the  blood  of 
its  martyrs.  The  country  was  composed  of  two  divi- 
sions, widely  dissimilar  the  one  from  the  other.  The 
south,  rich  and  increased  in  goods,  succumbed.  How- 
could  its  extensive  manufactures,  carried  to  such  per- 
fection— how  could  Bruges,  the  great  mart  of  northern 
merchandise,  or  Antwerp,  the  queen  of  commercial 
cities,  make  their  interests  consist  with  a  long  and 
bloody  struggle  for  the  things  of  faith  1  But  the  nor- 
thern provinces,  defended  by  their  dykes,  the  sea,  their 
marshes,  and,  still  more,  by  the  simple  manners  of  the 
population,  and  their  determination  to  suffer  the  loss  of 
all,  rather  than  of  the  Gospel,  not  only  preserved  their 
franchises,  their  privileges,  and  their  faith,  but  achieved 
independence  and  a  glorious  existence  as  a  nation. 

England  then  gave  little  promise  of  all  she  has  sub- 
sequently acquired.  Driven  from  the  continent,  where 
she  had  long  obstinately  contended  for  the  conquest  of 
France,  she  began  to  turn  her  eyes  toward  the  ocean 
as  to  the  empire  which  was  designed  to  be  the  true  end 
of  her  victories,  and  of  which  the  inheritance  was  re- 
served for  her.  Twice  converted  to  Christianity,  first 
under  the  Britons,  then  under  the  Anglo-Saxons,  she 
paid  devoutly  the  annual  tribute  of  St.  Peter's  pence. 
Yet  was  she  reserved  for  a  lofty  destiny.  Mistress  of 
the  ocean,  everywhere  present  through  all  parts  of  the 
earth,  she  was  ordained  to  be  one  day,  with  the  people 
to  whom  she  should  give  birth,  as  the  hand  of  God  to 
scatter  the  seed  of  life  in  remotest  islands  and  on  bound- 


30 


BOHEMIA  AND  HUNGARY— FREDERIC  THE  WISE, 


less  continents.  Already  some  circumstances  gave 
presage  of  her  destinies.  Great  intellectual  light  had 
shown  in  the  British  Isles,  and  some  glimmerings  of  it 
still  remained.  A  crowd  of  foreigners,  artists,  mer- 
chants, workmen,  from  the  Low  Countries,  Germany, 
and  other  regions,  thronged  her  harbours  and  cities. 
The  new  religious  opinions  would,  therefore,  be  easily 
and  quickly  introduced.  Finally,  England  had  then 
an  eccentric  king,  who,  endowed  with  some  learning 
and  considerable  courage,  was  continually  changing  his 
purposes  and  notions,  and  turning  from  one  side  to 
another,  according  to  the  direction  in  which  his  violent 
passions  impelled  him.  It  was  possible  that  one  of  the 
inconsistencies  of  Henry  VIII.  might  prove  favourable 
to  the  Reformation. 

Scotland  was  then  torn  by  factions.  A  king  five 
years  old,  a  queen  regent,  ambitious  nobles,  an  influ- 
ential clergy,  harassed  this  courageous  nation  on  all 
sides.  It  was,  however,  destined  to  hold  a  distinguish- 
ed place  among  the  nations  which  should  receive  the 
Reformation. 

The  three  northern  kingdoms,  Denmark,  Sweden, 
and  Norway,  were  united  under  one  government. 
These  rude  and  warlike  people  seemed  likely  to  have 
little  sympathy  with  the  doctrine  of  love  and  peace. 
Yet,  from  the  very  energy  of  their  character,  they  were 
perhaps  better  disposed  to  receive  the  spirit  of  the 
evangelical  doctrine  than  the  southern  nations.  But 
these  descendants  of  warriors  and  pirates  brought  per- 
haps too  warlike  a  spirit  to  the  support  of  the  Protestant 
cause  ;  in  subsequent  times  they  defended  it  heroically 
6y  the  sword. 

Russia,  situate  at  the  extremity  of  Europe,  had  but 
little  connexion  with  other  states ;  we  may  add  that 
she  belonged  to  the  Greek  Church.  The  reformation 
effected  in  the  west  had  little  or  no  influence  upon  the 
east. 

Poland  seemed  well  prepared  for  a  reformation.  The 
vicinity  of  the  Bohemian  and  Moravian  Christians  had 
disposed  it  to  receive  that  religious  impulse  which  the 
neighbouring  states  of  Germany  were  destined  speedily 
to  impart  to  it.  As  early  as  the  year  1500,  the  nobility 
of  Poland  had  demanded  that  the  cup  should  be  given  to 
the  laity,  appealing  to  the  custom  of  the  primitive 
Church.  The  liberty  which  was  enjoyed  in  the  cities, 
and  the  independence  of  its  nobles,  made  this  country 
a  safe  asylum  for  Christians  who  were  persecuted  in 
their  own.  The  truth  they  brought  with  them  was  joy- 
fully welcomed  by  numbers.  It  is  the  country  which, 
in  our  times,  has  the  fewest  confessors  of  the  Gospel. 

The  flame  of  reformation  which  had  long  flickered 
in  Bohemia,  had  almost  been  extinguished  in  blood. 
Nevertheless  some  poor  survivers,  escaped  from  the 
carnage,  were  still  living  to  see  the  day  that  Huss  had 
predicted. 

Hungary  had  been  distracted  by  intestine  wars,  under 
the  rule  of  princes  without  ability  or  experience,  who, 
in  the  result,  made  the  country  a  dependancy  of  Aus- 
tria, by  enrolling  that  powerful  house  among  the  heirs 
of  the  crown. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  Europe  at  the  beginning 
of  that  sixteenth  century,  which  was  destined  to  pro- 
duce so  mighty  a  change  in  the  great  Christian  family. 

But  we  have  already  observed,  it  was  on  the  vast 
platform  of  Germany,  and  more  particularly  in  Wittem- 
berg,  in  the  heart  of  the  empire,  that  the  grand  drama 
of  the  Reformation  was  to  commence. 

Let  us  contemplate  the  actors  in  the  prologue  which 
ushered  in,  or  contributed  to,  the  work  of  which  Luther 
was  appointed  to  be,  in  God's  hands,  the  hero. 

Of  all  the  electors  of  the  empire,  the  most  powerful 
at  that  time  was  Frederic  of  Saxony,  surnamed  the 
Wise.  The  influence  he  exercised,  joined  to  his 


wealth  and  generosity,  raised  him  above  his  eqnafo.* 
~d  selected  him  to  serve  as  a  tree,  under  shadow  of 
which  the  seed  of  truth  might  put  forth  ks  first  shoot 
without  being  rooted  up  by  the  tempests  around  it. 

Born  at  Torgau  in  1463,  he  manifested,  from  his 
early  youth,  much  love  for  science,  philosophy,  and 
:»iety.  Succeeding,  in  1487,  in  conjunction  with  his 
jrother  John,  to  the  government  of  the  hereditary  states 
of  his  family,  he  received  the  dignity  of  elector  from 
the  Emperor  Frederic  III.  In  1493  the  pious  prince 
undertook  a  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  Henry 
of  Schaumburg  on  that  sacred  spot  conferred  upon  him 
the  order  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  He  returned  to  Sax- 
ony in  the  following  summer.  In  1502  he  founded  the 
niversity  of  Wittemberg,  which  was  destined  to  b& 
the  nursery  of  the  Reformation. 

When  the  light  dawned,  he  did  not  commit  himself 
on  either  side,  but  stood  by  to  secure  it.  No  man  was 
itter  for  this  office  ;  he  possessed  the  general  esteem, 
and  was  in  the  intimate  confidence  of  the  emperor. 
He  even  acted  for  him  in  his  absence.  His  wisdom 
consisted  not  in  the  skilful  working  of  deep  laid  policy, 
jut  in  an  enlightened  and  prescient  prudence,  of  which 
the  first  law  was  never  for  the  sake  of  any  self-interest 
:o  infringe  the  rules  of  honour  and  religion. 

At  the  same  time  he  felt  in  his  heart  the  power  of 
the  word  of  God.  One  day,  when  the  vicar-general, 
Staupitz,  was  in  his  company,  the  conversation  turned 
on  public  declaimers :  "  All  sermons,"  said  the  elector, 

made  up  of  mere  subtleties  and  human  traditions,  are 
marvellously  cold,  without  nerve  or  power,  since  there 
s  no  subtlety  we  can  advance  that  may  not  by  another 
subtlety  be  overturned.  Holy  Scripture  alone  is  clothed 
with  such  power  and  majesty  that,  shaming  us  out  of 
our  rules  of  reasoning,  it  compels  us  to  cry  out,  '  Never 
man  spake  as  this.'  "  Staupitz  assenting  entirely  to  his 
opinion,  the  elector  cordially  extended  his  hand  to  him 
and  said,  "  Promise  me  that  you  will  always  think  thus."t 

Frederic  was  precisely  the  prince  that  was  needed 
for  the  cradle  of  the  Reformation.  Too  much  weakness 
on  the  part  of  those  friendly  to  the  work  might  have 
allowed  it  to  be  crushed.  Too  much  haste  would  have 
caused  too  early  an  explosion  of  the  storm  that  from  its 
origin  gathered  against  it.  Frederic  was  moderate, 
but  firm  ;  he  possessed  that  Christian  grace  which  God 
has  in  all  times  required  from  his  worshippers  ;  he 
waited  for  God.  He  put  in  practice  the  wise  counsel 
of  Gamaliel :  "  If  this  work  be  of  man,  it  will  come 
to  naught ;  if  it  be  of  God,  we  cannot  overthrow  it." 

Things  are  come  to  such  a  pass,"  said  the  prince  to 
one  of  the  most  enlightened  men  of  his  time,  Spengler 
of  Nuremberg,  "  that  men  can  do  no  more  :  God  alone 
can  effect  anything  ;  therefore  we  must  leave  to  his 
power  those  great  events  which  are  too  hard  for  us.'* 
We  may  well  admire  the  wisdom  of  Providence  in  the 
choice  of  such  a  prince  to  guard  the  small  beginnings 
of  its  work. 

Maximilian  I.,  who  wore  the  imperial  crown  from 
1493  to  1519,  may  be  reckoned  among  those  who  con- 
tributed to  prepare  the  way  of  the  Reformation.  He 
afforded  to  the  other  princes  the  example  of  enthusiasm 
for  literature  and  science.  He  was  less  attached  than 
any  other  to  the  popes,  and  had  even  thoughts  of  sei- 
zing on  the  papacy.  No  one  can  say  what  it  might  have 
become  in  his  hands  ;  but  we  may  be  allowed  to  imagine 
from  this  circumstance,  that  a  rival  power  to  the  pope, 
such  as  the  Reformation,  would  not  have  reckoned  the 
Emperor  of  Germany  among  its  fiercest  opponents. 

Among  even  the  princes  of  the  Romish  Church  were 
found  venerable  men,  whom  sacred  study  and  a  sincere 

*  Qui  pra  multis  pollebat  principibus  aliis,  auctoritate,  opi- 
bus,  potentia,  liberalitate  et  magnificentia.  (Cochlaeus,  Acta 
Lutheri,  p.  3  )  f  Luther,  epp. 


MEN  OF  LETTERS— REUCHLIN— HIS  LABOURS— REUCHLIN  IN  ITALY, 


31 


piety  had  prepared  for  the  divine  work  about  to  be 
wrought  in  the  world.     Christopher  of  Stadion,  Bisho 
•of  Augsburg,  knew  and  loved  the  truth  ;  but  he  woul< 
have  had  to  sacrifice  all  by  a  courageous  confession  o 
it.     Laurentius  de  Biba,  Bishop  of  Wurtzburg,  a  kind 
pious,  and  wise  man,  and  esteemed  by  the  emperor  an 
princes,  was  accustomed  to  speak  openly  against  the 
corruption  of  the  Church.     But  he  died  in  1519,  to 
early  to  take  part  in  the  Reformation.    John  VI.,  Bishop 
of  Meisser,  was  used  to  say,  "  As  often  as  I  read  th 
Bible,  I  find  there  a  different  religion  from  that  which 
is  taught  to  us."    John  Thurzo,  Bishop  of  Breslau,  was 
called  by  Luther  the  best  bishop  of  the  age.*     But  h< 
too  died   in   1520.      William  Bric.onnet,  Bishop  of 
Meaux,  contributed  largely  to  introduce  the  Reformation 
in  France.     Who,  indeed,  can  say  to  what  extent  the 
enlightened  piety  of  these  bishops,  and  of  many  other 
was  of  use  in  preparing,  each  in  his  diocess,  and  be- 
yond it,  the  great  work  of  the  Reformation  1 

But  it  was  reserved  to  men  of  lower  station  than 
these  princes  or  bishops,  to  become  the  chief  instru- 
ments of  God's  providence  in  the  work  of  preparation 
It  was  the  scholars  and  the  learned,  then  termed  human- 
ists, who  exercised  the  greatest  influence  on  their  age 
There  existed  at  that  time  open  war  between  these 
disciples  of  letters  and  the  scholastic  divines.  The 
latter  beheld  with  alarm  the  great  movements  going  on 
in  the  field  of  intelligence,  and  took  up  with  the  notion 
that  immobility  and  ignorance  would  be  the  best  safe- 
guards of  the  Church.  It  was  to  save  Rome  that 
divines  opposed  the  revival  of  letters  ;  but  by  so  doing 
they  in  reality  contributed  to  her  ruin,  and  Rome  her 
self  unconsciously  co-operated  in  it.  In  an  unguarded 
moment,  under  the  pontificate  of  Leo  X.,  she  forsook 
her  old  friends,  and  embraced  her  youthful  adversaries. 
The  papacy  formed  with  literature  a  union  which  seem- 
ed likely  to  break  the  old  alliance  with  the  monastic 
orders.  The  popes  did  not  at  first  perceive  that  what 
they  had  taken  up  as  a  toy  was,  in  reality,  a  sword  that 
might  destroy  them.  Thus  in  the  last  century  we 
beheld  princes  who  received  at  their  courts  a  tone  of 
politics  and  a  philosophy  which,  if  they  had  experienced 
their  full  effect,  would  have  overturned  their  thrones. 
The  alliance  of  which  we  have  spoken  did  not  last 
long.  Literature  advanced,  entirely  regardless  of  that 
which  might  endanger  the  power  of  its  patrons.  The 
monks  and  the  scholastic  divines  perceived  that  to  for- 
sake the  pope  would  be  to  abandon  their  own  interests. 
And  the  pope,  notwithstanding  the  transcient  patronage 
which  he  bestowed  upon  the  fine  arts,  adopted,  when 
it  suited  his  interests,  measures  most  opposed  to  the 
spirit  of  the  time. 

The  revival  of  letters  presented  at  that  time  an  ani- 
mating spectacle.  Let  us  sketch  some  lines  of  this 
picture,  selecting  such  as  have  the  closest  connexion 
with  the  revival  of  the  true  faith. 

In  order  that  the  truth  might  triumph,  it  was  neces- 
sary that  the  arms  that  were  to  achieve  the  victory 
should  be  taken  from  the  arsenal  in  which  for  ages  they 
had  lain  hidden.  These  weapons  were  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures of  the  Old  and  New  Testament.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  revive  in  Christendom  the  love  and  study  of 
the  sacred  Greek  and  Hebrew  texts.  The  man  chosen 
by  God  for  this  work  was  John  Reuchlin. 

A  very  sweet-toned  child's  voice  had  been  noticed 
in  the  choir  of  the  church  of  Pforzheim.  It  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  Margrave  of  Baden.  It  proved  to 
be  '.hat  of  John  Reuchlin,  a  young  boy  of  pleasing 
manners  and  of  a  sprightly  disposition,  the  son  of  an 
honest  citizen  of  the  place.  The  Margrave  treated  him 
with  great  favour,  and  made  choice  of  him,  in  1473,  to 
accompany  his  son  Frederic  to  the  University  of  Paris. 
*  Lutheri,  epp  i.,  p.  524 


The  son  of  the  Bailiff  of  Pforzheim,  in  transports  of 
joy,  arrived,  in  company  with  the  prince,  at  this  most 
celebrated  school  of  the  west.  He  there  found  the 
Spartan  Herrnonymos,  and  John  Weissel,  surnamed 
the  Light  of  the  World,  and  he  had  now  an  opportunity 
of  studying,  under  the  most  able  masters,  the  Greek 
and  Hebrew,  of  which  there  was  at  that  time  no  pro- 
fessor in  Germany,  and  which  he  himself  was  destined 
one  day  to  restore  in  the  land  of  the  Reformation.  The 
young  and  indigent  German  transcribed  for  rich  stu- 
dents the  verses  of  Homer  and  the  orations  Isocrates, 
and  thus  earned  the  means  of  prosecuting  his  studies 
and  purchasing  books. 

But  he  heard  other  things  from  Weissel,  which  made 
a  powerful  impression  on  his  mind.  "  The  popes 
may  be  deceived,"  said  Weissel.  "  All  satisfaction 
made  by  men  is  blasphemy  against  Christ,  who  has 
completely  reconciled  and  justified  mankind.  To  God 
alone  belongs  the  power  of  giving  complete  absolu- 
tion. It  is  not  necessary  to  confess  our  sins  to  the 
priests.  There  is  no  purgatory,  unless  it  be  God  him- 
self, who  is  a  consuming  fire,  and  purifies  from  all  pol- 
lution." 

When  Reuchlin  was  hardly  twenty,  he  taught  phi- 
osophy  and  Greek  and  Latin  at  Bale,  and  it  was  then 
accounted  almost  a  miracle  that  a  German  should  speak 
Greek. 

The  partisans  of  Rome  began  to  be  uneasy  when 
they  saw  men  of  independent  character  searching  into 
these  ancient  treasures.  "  The  Romans  make  a  wry 
face,"  said  Reuchlin,  "  and  clamorously  assert  that 
all  such  literary  labours  are  contrary  to  Roman  piety, 
since  the  Greeks  are  schismatics.  Oh !  what  pains 
and  patience  are  needed  to  restore  wisdom  and  learn- 
ng  to  Germany  !" 

Soon  after,  Eberhard  of  Wu'rtemburg  invited 
Reuchlin  to  Tubingen,  to  adorn  that  rising  univer- 
ity ;  and  in  1487  he  took  him  into  Italy.  Chalcon- 
dylas,  Aurispa,  John  Picus  of  Mirandola,  were  his 
'riends  and  companions  at  Florence.  And  at  Rome, 
when  Eberhard  had  a  solemn  audience  of  the  pope, 
surrounded  by  his  cardinals,  Reuchlin  pronounced  an 
address  in  such  pure  and  elegant  Latin,  that  the  as- 
sembly, who  expected  nothing  of  that  kind  from  a  bar- 
•arous  German,  were  in  the  utmost  astonishment,  and 
he  pope  exclaimed,  "  Certainly  this  man  deserves  to 
)e  ranked  with  the  best  orators  of  France  and  Italy." 

Ten  years  after,  Reuchlin  was  obliged  to  take  re- 
uge  at  Heidelberg,  at  the  court  of  the  Elector  Philip, 
o  escape  the  vengeance  of  the  successor  of  Eberhard . 
Philip,  in  conjunction  with  John  of  Dalberg,  Bishop  of 
Worms,  his  friend  and  chancellor,  endeavoured  to  dif- 
'use  the  light  that  was  beginning  to  dawn  in  all  parts 
)f  Germany.  Dalberg  had  formed  a  library,  which 
was  open  to  all  the  studious.  Reuchlin  made  in  this 
lew  field  great  efforts  to  enlighten  and  civilize  the  peo- 

. 

Being  sent  to  Rome  by  the  elector,  in  1498.  on  an 
mportant  mission,  he  employed  the  time  and  money 
e  could  command,  either  in  improving  himself  in  the 
lebrew,  under  the  instruction  of  the  learned  Jew, 
bdias  Sphorna,  or  in  purchasing  whatever  Hebrew 
nd  Greek  manuscripts  he  could  meet  with,  intending 
o  use  them  as  torches,  to  diffuse  in  his  own  country 
le  light  that  was  beginning  to  appear. 

An  illustrious  Greek,  Argyropylos,  was  explaining 
n  that  metropolis,  to  a  numerous  auditory,  the  won- 
erful  progress  his  nation  had  formerly  made  in  litera- 
ure.  The  learned  ambassador  went  with  his  suite  to 

room  where  the  master  was  teaching,  and  on  his 
ntrance  saluted  him,  and  lamented  the  misery  of 
Greece,  then  languishing  under  Turkish  despotism, 
astonished  Greek  asked  the  German,  "  Whence 


32     CONTEST  WITH  THE  DOMINICANS— THE  HEBREW  WRITINGS— ERASMUS, 


come  vou,  and  do  you  understand  Greek  ?"  Reuchlin 
replied,  "  I  am  a  German,  and  am  not  quite  ignorant 
of  your  language."  At  the  request  of  Argyropolis,  he 
read  and  explained  a  passage  of  Thucydides,  which 
the  professor  happened  to  have  before  him  ;  upon 
which  Argyropolis  cried  out  in  grief  and  astonishment, 
"  Alas  !  alas  !  Greece,  cast  out  and  fugitive,  is  gone 
to  hide  herself  beyond  the  Alps." 

It  was  thus  that  the  sons  of  barbarous  Germany  and 
those  of  ancient  Greece  met  together  in  the  palaces 
of  Rome  ;  thus  it  was  that  the  east  and  the  west 
gave  each  other  the  right  hand  of  fellowship  in  this 
rendezvous  of  the  world,  and  that  the  former  poured 
into  the  hands  of  the  latter  those  intellectual  treasures 
which  it  had  carried  off  in  its  escape  from  the  barba- 
rism of  the  Turks.  God,  when  his  plans  require  it, 
brings  together  in  an  instant,  by  some  unlooked-for 
catastrophe,  those  who  seemed  for  ever  removed  from 
each  other. 

On  his  return  to  Germany,  Reuchlin  was  again 
permitted  to  take  up  his  abode  at  Wtirtemburg.  It 
was  at  this  time  that  he  entered  upon  the  labours  that 
were  most  useful  to  Luther  and  to  the  Reformation. 
He  translated  and  expounded  the  Penitential  Psalms, 
revised  the  Vulgate,  and  especially  distinguished 
himself  by  the  publication  of  the  first  Hebrew  and 
German  grammar  and  dictionary.  Reuchlin,  by  this 
labour,  took  off  the  seals  from  the  ancient  Scriptures, 
and  made  himself  a  name  more  enduring  than  brass. 

But  it  was  not  alone  by  his  writings,  but  also  by 
his  life,  that  Reuchlin  sought  to  promote  the  cause  of 
truth.  He  had  great  influence  over  the  minds  of 
youth,  and  who  can  estimate  how  much  the  Reforma- 
tion owes  to  him  on  that  account?  We  will  mention 
but  one  example.  A  young  man,  a  cousin  of  his,  the 
son  of  an  artizan,  famous  as  a  manufacturer  of  arms, 
•whose  name  was  Schwarzerd,  came  to  lodge  with  his 
sister  Elizabeth,  for  the  purpose  of  studying  under  his 
direction.  Reuchlin,  delighted  with  the  talents  and 
diligence  of  his  young  pupil,  adopted  him,  and  spared 
neither  advice,  presents  of  books,  example,  nor  any- 
thing else  that  was  likely  to  make  his  relation  useful 
to  the  Church  and  to  his  country.  He  rejoiced  in 
seeing  his  work  prosper  in  his  hands  ;  and,  thinking 
his  German  name  Schwarzerd  too  harsh,  he  translated 
it  into  Greek,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  time,  and 
called  the  young  student  Melancthon.  This  was  the 
illustrious  friend  of  Luther. 

Soon  after,  the  amiable  Reuchlin  was  involved, 
much  against  his  inclination,  in  a  violent  contest, 
which  was  one  of  the  preludes  of  the  Reformation. 

There  was  at  Cologne  a  baptised  Jew,  named  Pfef- 
ferkorn,  intimately  connected  with  the  inquisitor  Hoch- 
straten.  This  man  and  the  Dominicans  solicited  and 
obtained  from  the  Emperor  Maximilian,  probably  with 
no  bad  motives,  an  order,  requiring  the  Jews  to  bring 
all  their  Hebrew  books  (the  Bible  excepted)  to  the 
town-hall  of  the  city  in  which  they  resided,  there  to 
be  publicly  burnt.  The  reason  alleged  was,  that  they 
were  full  of  blasphemies  against  Jesus.  It  must  be 
confessed  that  they  were  at  least  full  of  absurdities, 
and  that  the  Jews  themselves  would  not  have  lost 
much  by  the  proposed  measure.  However,  they  did 
not  think  so ;  and  no  power  could  rightly  deprive  them 
of  works  which  were,  in  their  estimation,  of  great  va- 
lue. Add  to  which,  the  Dominicans  might  be  influ- 
enced by  other  motives  than  zeal  for  the  Gospel.  It 
is  probable  that  they  expected,  by  this  means,  to  ex- 
tort considerable  ransoms  from  the  Jews. 

The  emperor  asked  Reuchlin  to  give  his  opinion  of 
these  works.  The  learned  doctor  pointed  out  the 
books  that  were  written  against  Christianity,  leaving 
them  to  the  fate  they  deserved ;  but  he  tried  to  save 


the  rest.  "The  best  way  to  convert  the  Jews/'  he 
added,  "  would  be  to  establish  in  each  university  two 
masters  of  the  Hebrew  language,  who  should  teach  di- 
vines to  read  the  Bible  in  Hebrew,  and  thus  refute  the 
Jewish  doctors."  The  Jews,  in  consequence  of  this 
advice,  had  their  writings  restored  to  them. 

The  proselyte  and  the  inquisitor,  like  ravens  who 
see  their  prey  escaping,  uttered  cries  of  rage  and 
fury.  They  picked  out  different  passages  from  the 
writings  of  Reuchlin,  perverted  the  sense,  declared 
the  author  a  .heretic,  accused  him  of  being  secretly 
inclined  to  Judaism,  and  threatened  him  with  the  in- 
quisition. Reuchlin  was  at  first  alarmed  ;  but,  these 
men  becoming  more  insolent,  and  prescribing  to  him 
disgraceful  conditions  of  peace,  he  published,  in  1513, 
a  "  Defence  against  his  Slanderers  at  Cologne,"  in 
which  he  described  the  whole  party  in  the  liveliest 
colours. 

The  Dominicans  vowed  vengeance.  Hochstraten 
erected,  at  Mayence,  a  tribunal  against  Reuchlin. 
The  writings  of  this  learned  man  were  condemned 
to  the  flames.  Reuchlin  appealed  to  Pope  Leo  X. 
This  pope,  who  did  not  much  like  those  narrow-mind- 
ed and  fanatical  monks,  referred  the  whole  affair  to  the 
Bishop  of  Spires  ;  the  latter  declared  Reuchlin  inno- 
cent, and  condemned  the  monks  to  pay  the  expenses 
of  the  investigation. 

This  affair  was  of  great  importance,  and  made  much 
noise  in  Germany.  It  exhibited,  in  the  most  revolting 
publicity,  the  very  large  class  of  monkish  theologians  ; 
it  drew  together  in  closer  alliance  all  the  friends  of 
learning — then  called  Reuchlinists,  from  the  name  of 
their  distinguished  head.  This  struggle  was  like  an 
affair  of  advanced  posts,  which  influenced,  in  a  consi- 
derable degree,  the  great  contest  which  the  heroic 
courage  of  Luther  afterward  waged  with  error. 

This  union  of  letters  with  the  faith  is  'an  important 
feature  of  the  Reformation,  and  serves  to  distinguish 
it  both  from  the  establishment  of  Christianity,  and  from 
the  revival  in  religion  taking  place  in  our  own  days. 
The  Christians  in  the  apostles'  time  had  against  them 
the  intellectual  cultivation  of  the  age  ;  and,  with  some 
exceptions,  it  is  the  same  at  this  day.  But  the  majo- 
rity of  men  of  letters  were  ranged  on  the  side  of  the 
Reformers.  Even  general  opinion  was  favourable  to 
them.  The  work  gained  in  extension  :  perhaps  it  lost 
in  depth ! 

Luther,  acknowledging  all  that  Reuchlin  had  done, 
wrote  to  him  shortly  after  his  victory  over  the  Domini- 
cans :  "  The  Lord  has  wrought  in  you,  that  the  light 
of  his  holy  word  may  again  shine  forth  in  Germany, 
where  for  so  many  ages  it  has  been,  alas  !  not  only 
stifled,  but  extinct."* 

Reuchlin  was  about  twelve  years  old  when  one  of 
the  greatest  geniuses  of  the  age  was  born.  A  man, 
full  of  vivacity  and  wit,  named  Gerard,  a  native  of 
Gouda,  in  the  Low  Countries,  had  formed  an  attach- 
ment to  the  daughter  of  a  physician,  named  Margaret. 
The  principles  of  the  Gospel  did  not  govern  his  life  ; 
or,  to  say  the  least,  his  passion  silenced  them.  His 
parents,  and  nine  brothers,  urged  him  to  enter  into  the 
Church.  He  fled,  leaving  Margaret  on  the  point  of 
becoming  a  mother,  and  repaired  to  Rome.  The  shame- 
struck  Margaret  gave  birth  to  a  son.  Gerard  heard 
nothing  of  it  ;  and,  some  time  afterward,  he  received 
from  his  parents  intelligence  that  she  he  loved  was  no 
more.  Overwhelmed  with  grief,  he  took  priest's  orders, 
and  devoted  himself  to  the  service  of  God.  He  return- 
ed to  Holland  ;  and,  lo  \  Margaret  was  still  living  :  she 
would  never  marry  another ;  and  Gerard  remained 
faithful  to  his  priest's  vows.  Their  affection  was  con- 

*Mai  Vita  J.  Reuchlin,  (Francof.,  1637.)  MayerhoffJ. 
Reuchlin  und  seine  Zeit.  (Berlin,  1830.) 


ERASMUS  AND  LUTHER. 


33 


centrated  on  their  infant  son.  His  mother  had  taken 
the  tenderest  care  of  him.  The  father,  after  his  return, 
sent  him  to  school  when  he  was  only  four  years  old. 
He  was  not  yet  thirteen,  when  his  master,  Sinthemius 
of  Deventer,  embracing  him  one  day  in  great  joy,  ex- 
claimed :  "  That  child  will  attain  the  highest  summits 
of  learning."  This  was  Erasmus  of  Rotterdam. 

About  this  time  his  mother  died  ;  and  shortly  after 
his  father,  from  grief,  followed  her. 

The  young  Erasmus,*  alone  in  the  world,  felt  the 
strongest  aversion  to  the  monastic  life,  which  his  tutors 
would  have  constrained  him  to  embrace.  At  last  a 
friend  persuaded  him  to  enter  himself  in  a  convent  of 
regular  canons  ;  which  might  be  done  without  taking 
orders.  Soon  after  we  find  him  at  the  court  of  the 
Archbishop  of  Cambray  ;  and,  a  little  later,  at  the 
University  of  Paris.  There  he  pursued  his  studies  in 
the  greatest  poverty,  but  with  the  most  indefatigable 
perseverance.  Whenever  he  could  obtain  any  money, 
he  employed  it  in  the  purchase  of  Greek  authors — and 
then,  of  clothes.  Often  the  poor  Hollander  solicited  in 
vain  the  generosity  of  his  protectors :  hence,  in  after- 
life, it  was  his  greatest  satisfaction  to  contribute  to  the 
support  of  young  and  poor  students.  Devoted  inces- 
santly to  the  investigation  of  truth  and  learning,  he  yet 
shrunk  from  the  study  of  theology,  from  a  fear  lest  he 
should  discover  therein  any  error,  and  so  be  denounced 
as  a  heretic. 

The  habits  of  application  which  he  formed  at  this 
period,  continued  to  distinguish  him  through  life.  Even 
in  his  journeys,  which  were  generally  on  horseback,  he 
was  not  idle.  He  was  accustomed  to  compose  on  the 
high  road,  or  travelling  across  the  country,  and,  on 
arriving  at  an  inn,  to  note  down  his  thoughts.  It  is  in 
this  way  that  he  composed  his  celebrated  "  Praise  of 
Folly,"  during  a  journey  from  Italy  to  England. 

Erasmus  very  early  acquired  a  high  reputation  among 
scholars. 

But  the  monks,  irritated  by  his  "  Praise  of  Folly,"t 
in  which  he  had  turned  them  to  ridicule,  vowed  ven- 
geance against  him.  Courted  by  princes,  he  constantly 
excused  himself  from  their  invitations  ;  preferring  to 
gain  his  livelihood  with  Frobenius  the  printer,  by  cor- 
recting his  proofs,  to  a  life  of  luxury  and  favour  in  the 
splendid  courts  of  Charles  V.,  of  Henry  VIII.,  and 
Francis  I.  ;  or  even  to  encircling  his  head  with  the 
cardinal's  hat,  which  was  offered  to  him.J 

From  1509  he  taught  at  Oxford.  In  1516  he  came 
to  Bfile,  and  in  1521  fixed  his  abode  there. 

What  was  his  influence  on  the  Reformation  ? 

It  has  been  too  much  exalted  by  some,  and  too  much 
depreciated  by  others.  Erasmus  never  was,  and  never 
could  have  become,  a  Reformer  ;  but  he  prepared  the 
way  for  others.  Not  only  did  he  in  his  time  diffuse  a 
love  of  learning  and  a  spirit  of  inquiry  and  discussion 
which  led  much  farther  than  he  himself  would  follow, 
but,  in  addition  to  this,  he  was  able,  sheltered  by  the 
protection  of  great  prelates  and  powerful  princes,  to 
unveil  and  combat  the  vices  of  the  Church  by  the  most 
pungent  satires. 

He  did  more ;  not  satisfied  with  attacking  abuses, 
Erasmus  laboured  to  recall  divines  from  the  scholastic 
theology  to  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  "  The 
highest  use  of  the  revival  of  philosophy,"  said  he, 
"  will  be  to  discover  in  the  Bible  the  simple  and  pure 
Christianity.''  A  noble  saying !  and  would  to  God 
that  the  organs  of  the  philosophy  of  our  days  understood 

*  Ho  was  named  Gerhard  after  his  father.  He  translated 
this  Dutch  name  into  Latin,  (Desiderius,)  and  into  Greek, 
(Erasmus.) 

t  F-YKUJJIIOV  Capias.  Seven  editions  of  this  book  were  sold 
in  a  few  months. 

|  A  principibus  facile  mini  contingeret  fortuna.  nisi  mihi 
nimitim  dulcis  csset  libertas.  (Epist.  ad  Pirck.) 

E 


as  well  their  proper  duty.  "I  am  firmly  resolved," 
said  he  again,  "  to  die  in  the  study  of  the  Scripture. 
In  that  is  my  joy  and  my  peace."*  "  The  sum  of  all 
Christian  philosophy,"  says  he  in  another  place,  "  is 
reduced  to  this  :  to  place  all  our  hope  in  God,  who, 
without  our  deserts,  by  grace,  gives  us  all  things  by 
Jesus  Christ ;  to  know  that  we  are  redeemed  by  the 
death  of  his  Son  ;  to  die  to  the  lusts  of  the  world  ;  and 
to  walk  conformably  to  his  doctrine  and  example  ;  not 
merely  without  doing  wrong  to  any,  but  doing  good  to 
all ;  to  bear  with  patience  our  trial  in  the  hope  of  a 
future  recompense  ;  and,  finally,  to  ascribe  no  honour  to 
ourselves  on  the  score  of  our  virtues,  but  to  render 
praise  to  God  for  all  our  strength  and  works.  And  it 
is  with  this  that  man  must  be  imbued  until  it  becomes 
to  him  a  second  nature."t 

But  Erasmus  was  not  content  with  making  so  open 
a  confession  of  the  evangelic  doctrine  ;  his  labours  did 
more  than  his  words.  Above  all,  he  rendered  a  most 
important  service  to  the  truth  by  publishing  his  New 
Testament ;  the  first,  and  for  a  long  time,  the  only 
critical  edition.  It  appeared  at  Bale  in  1516,  the  year 
previous  to  the  usual  date  of  the  Reformation.  He 
accompanied  it  with  a  Latin  translation,  wherein  he 
boldly  corrected  the  Vulgate,  and  with  notes,  defending 
his  corrections.  Thus  Erasmus  did  that  for  the  New 
Testament  which  Reuchlin  had  done  for  the  Old. 

Divines  and  learned  men  might  thus  read  the  word 
of  God  in  the  original  language  ;  and  at  a  later  period 
they  were  enabled  to  rocognise  the  purity  of  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Reformers.  "  Would  to  God,"  said  Eras- 
mus, in  sending  forth  this  work — "  would  to  God  it 
might  bear  as  much  fruit  for  Christianity  as  it  has  cost 
me  labour  and  application."  His  wish  was  realized. 
In  vain  did  the  monks  clamour  against  it.  "  He 
pretends  to  correct  the  Holy  Ghost !"  said  they.  The 
New  Testament  of  Erasmus  shed  a  brilliant  light. 
This  great  man  also  diffused  a  taste  for  the  word  of 
God  by  his  paraphrases  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans. 
The  effect  of  his  studies  went  beyond  his  own  inten- 
tions :  Reuchlin  and  Erasmus  gave  the  Scriptures  to 
the  learned  ;  Luther,  to  the  people. 

Erasmus  served  as  a  stepping-stone  to  several  others. 
Many  who  would  have  taken  alarm  at  evangelical 
truths  brought  forward  in  all  their  energy  and  purity, 
suffered  themselves  to  be  drawn  on  by  him,  and  became 
afterward  the  most  zealous  actors  in  the  Reformation. 

But  the  very  causes  that  made  him  a  fit  instrument 
to  prepare  this  great  work,  disqualified  him  for  accom- 
plishing it.  "  Erasmus  knows  very  well  how  to  expose 
error,"  said  Luther,  "  but  he  does  not  know  how  to 
teach  the  truth."  The  Gospel  of  Christ  was  not  the 
fire  that  kindled  and  sustained  his  life,  the  centre  around 
which  his  activity  revolved.  In  him  Christianity  was 
second  to  learning.  He  was  too  much  influenced  by 
vanity  to  acquire  a  decided  influence  over  his  contem- 
poraries. He  carefully  weighed  the  effect  that  each 
step  might  have  upon  his  own  reputation.  There  was 
nothing  that  he  liked  better  to  talk  about  than  himself 
and  his  own  glory.  "  The  pope,"  he  wrote  to  an 
intimate  friend,  with  a  childish  vanity,  at  the  period 
when  he  declared  himself  the  adversary  of  Luther — 
"  the  pope  has  sent  me  a  diploma  full  of  good- will  and 
honourable  testimonials.  His  secretary  declares  that 
it  is  an  unprecedented  honour,  and  that  the  pope 
himself  dictated  it  word  for  word." 

Erasmus  and  Luther  are  the  representatives  of  two 
great  ideas  relative  to  a  Reformation— of  two  great 
parties  in  their  age,  and  in  all  ages.  The  one  class 

»  Ad  Servatium. 

t  Ad  Joh.  Slechtam.  1519.  HKC  sunt  animis  hommum  m- 
culcanda,  sic,  ut  velut  in  naturam  transeant.  (kr.  kpp.  i.,  p. 
680.) 


34 


ERASMUS  AND  LUTHER. 


are  men  of  a  timid  prudence  ;  the  other  those  of  active 
courage  and  resolution.  These  two  great  bodies  of 
men  existed  at  this  period,  and  they  were  personified 
in  these  two  illustrious  heads.  The  former  thought 
that  the  cultivation  of  theological  science  would  lead 
gradually  and  without  violence  to  the  Reformation  of 
the  Church.  The  more  energetic  class  thought  that 
the  spread  of  more  correct  ideas  among  the  learned 
would  not  put  an  end  to  the  gross  superstitions  of  the 
people,  and  that  to  reform  such  or  such  an  abuse  was 
of  little  importance,  so  long  as  the  life  of  the  Church 
was  not  thoroughly  renovated. 

"  A  disadvantageous  peace,"  said  Erasmus,  "  is 
better  than  the  most  just  war."*  He  thought — (and 
how  many  Erasmuses  have  lived  since  that  time,  and 
are  still  living)  he  thought  that  a  Reformation  which 
should  shake  the  Church  would  risk  the  overturning  it ; 
he  foresaw  with  terror  passions  excited,  evil  mingling 
everywhere  with  the  little  good  that  might  be  done  ; 
existing  institutions  destroyed  without  others  being 
substituted  in  their  stead,  and  the  vessel  of  the  Church 
letting  in  water  on  every  side,  ingulfed  at  last  in  the 
raging  billows.  "  They  who  let  in  the  ocean  to  new 
beds,"  said  he,  "  are  often  deceived  in  the  result  of 
their  toil:  for  the  mighty  element,  once  admitted,  stops 
not  where  they  would  have  it  stayed,  but  overflows 
where  it  will,  spreading  devastation  around. "t 

But  the  more  courageous  party  was  not  at  a  loss  for 
an  answer.  History  had  sufficiently  proved  that  a 
candid  exhibition  of  the  truth,  and  a  decided  war  against 
imposture,  could  alone  ensure  the  victory.  If  they  had 
used  caution  and  political  artifice,  the  papal  court 
would  have  extinguished  the  light  in  its  first  glimmer- 
ings. Had  not  gentler  means  been  tried  for  agesl 
Had  they  not  seen  council  after  council  convoked  with 
the  intention  of  reforming  the  Church  1  All  had  been 
in  vain.  Why  again  try  an  experiment  that  had  so 
often  failed  1 

Undoubtedly  a  thorough  Reformation  was  not  to  be 
effected  without  violence.  But  when  has  anything 
great  or  good  appeared  among  men  without  causing 
some  disturbance  1  Would  not  the  fear  of  seeing  evil 
mingling  with  good,  if  it  were  allowed,  put  a  stop  to 
the  very  noblest  and  holiest  undertakings  1  We  must 
not  fear  the  evil  that  may  arise  from  general  distur- 
bance, but  we  must  strengthen  ourselves  to  resist  and 
overcome  it. 

Is  there  not,  moreover,  a  marked  difference  between 
the  agitation  which  arises  from  human  passions,  and 
that  which  is  wrought  by  the  Spirit  of  God  1  The 
former  loosens  the  bonds  of  society,  but  the  latter 
strengthens  them.  How  erroneous  was  it  to  suppose, 
with  Erasmus,  that  in  the  state  in  which  Christianity 
then  was,  with  that  mixture  of  opposing  elements,  of 
truth  and  error,  of  life  and  death,  a  violent  convulsion 
could  possibly  be  avoided.  Close,  if  you  can,  the 
crater  of  Vesuvius  when  the  contending  elements  are 
already  agitating  its  bosom !  The  middle  ages  had 
witnessed  more  than  one  violent  commotion,  with  an 
atmosphere  less  stormy  than  that  existing  at  the  time 
of  the  Reformation.  We  must  not  at  such  a  moment 
think  of  arresting  and  repressing,  but  rather  of  directing 
and  guiding. 

If  the  Reformation  had  not  broke  forth,  who  can 
estimate  the  ruin  that  would  have  ensued  1  Society  a 
prey  to  a  thousand  destructive  elements,  without  any 
regenerating  or  preserving  principles,  would  have  been 
frightfully  subverted.  Certainly  a  Reformation  such 
as  Erasmus  contemplated,  arid  such  as  many  moderate 

*  "  Malo  htinc,  qualis  qualis  est,  rerum  humanarum  statum 
quam  novos  excitari  tumultus,"  said  Erasmus. 

t  Semel  admissum  non  ea  fertur,  qua  destinarat  admissor. 
<Erasm.  Epp.  i.,  p.  953.) 


but  timid  men  of  our  times  still  dream  of,  would  have 
overturned  Christian  society.  The  people,  deprived 
of  the  light  and  piety  which  a  true  Reformation  brought 
down  even  to  the  lowest  ranks,  abandoned  to  violent 
passion  and  a  restless  spirit  of  revolt,  would  have  burst 
the  chain  like  an  enraged  animal  roused  by  provocation 
to  uncontrollable  fury. 

The  Reformation  was  nothing  less  than  the  coming 
in  of  the  Spirit  of  God  among  men,  a  regulating  prin- 
ciple, placed  by  God  upon  the  earth.  It  might,  it  is 
true,  move  the  elements  of  ferment  which  are  hidden 
in  the  human  heart,  but  God  triumphed  over  all.  The 
evangelical  doctrine,  the  truth  of  God,  penetrating 
among  the  mass  of  the  people,  destroyed  what  was 
destined  to  be  destroyed — but  everywhere  strengthened 
what  was  to  be  maintained.  The  effect  of  the  Refor- 
mation was  to  build  up.  Only  prejudice  could  say  that 
it  lowered.  And  it  has  been  justly  observed  that  the 
ploughshare  might  as  well  be  accused  of  injuring  the 
earth  it  breaks  up  only  to  prepare  it  for  fruitfulness. 

The  great  maxim  of  Erasmus  was,  "  Give  light,  and 
the  darkness  will  disperse  of  itself."  The  principle  is 
good  ;  Luther  acted  upon  it.  But  when  the  enemies 
of  the  light  attempted  to  extinguish  it,  or  to  snatch  the 
torch  from  him  who  bore  it,  was  it  fit  that,  from  a  love 
of  peace,  they  should  be  suffered  to  do  so  1  Was  it 
not  a  duty  to  resist  the  wicked  1 

Erasmus  was  deficient  in  courage.  But  courage  is 
as  necessary  to  effect  a  reformation  as  to  capture  a 
city.  There  was  much  timidity  in  his  character. 
From  his  youth  he  trembled  at  the  mention  of  death. 
He  took  the  most  extraordinary  care  of  his  health. 
He  would  avoid,  at  any  sacrifice,  a  place  where  conta- 
gion prevailed.  His  relish  for  the  comforts  of  life 
surpassed  even  his  vanity,  and  this  was  his  reason  for 
declining  more  than  one  brilliant  offer. 

Thus  it  was  that  he  did  not  pretend  to  the  part  of  a 
Reformer.  "  If  the  corrupted  morals  of  the  court  of 
Rome  require  a  great  and  speedy  remedy,"  said  he, 
"  it  is  not  for  me,  or  such  as  me,  to  effect  it."*  He 
had  none  of  that  strength  of  faith  which  animated 
Luther.  While  the  latter  was  ever  ready  to  lay  down 
his  life  for  the  truth,  Erasmus,  with  perfect  ingenuous- 
ness, could  say,  "  Let  others  affect  martyrdom :  for 
my  part,  I  think  myself  unworthy  of  that  honour,  t  I 
fear,  if  a  tumult  arose,  I  should  be  like  Peter  in  his  fall." 

Erasmus,  by  his  writings  and  discourses,  had,  more 
than  any  other  person,  hastened  the  Reformation  ;  and 
yet  he  trembled  when  he  saw  the  tempest  he  had 
raised  approaching.  He  would  have  given  everything 
to  restore  the  former  calm,  even  with  its  heavy  vapours. 
But  it  was  too  late — the  dam  was  broken  down.  It 
was  no  longer  possible  to  stay  the  violence  of  the 
torrent  that  was  at  once  to  cleanse  and  fertilize  the 
world.  Erasmus  was  powerful,  so  long  as  he  was  an 
instrument  in  God's  hands.  When  he  ceased  to  be 
that,  he  was  nothing. 

In  the  result  Erasmus  knew  not  on  which  side  to 
range  himself.  None  pleased  him,  and  he  dreaded  all. 
"  It  is  dangerous  to  speak,"  said  he,  "  and  dangerous 
to  be  silent."  In  all  great  religious  movements  there 
are  such  undecided  characters — respectable  in  some 
things,  but  hindering  the  truth,  and  who,  from  a  desire 
to  displease  no  one,  displeases  all. 

What,  we  may  ask,  would  become  of  truth,  if  God 
were  not  to  raise  up  in  its  defence  more  courageous 
champions  1 

Listen  to  the  advice  given  by  Erasmus  to  Vigilius 
Zuichem,  afterward  president  of  the  superior  court  of 
Brussels,  as  to  his  deportment  toward  the  sectaries,  (for 

*  Ingens  aliquod  et  prassens  remedium,  certemeum  nou  est. 
(Er.  Epp.  i.,  p.  653.) 
t  Ego  me  non  arbitror  hoc  honore  dignum.    (Ibid.) 


HUTTEN— LITERS  OBSCURORUM  VIRORUM. 


35 


that  was  the  name  he  gave  to  the  reformers.)  "  My 
friendship  for  you  makes  me  to  desire  that  you  should 
keep  yourself  quite  clear  of  contagion  of  sects,  and 
that  you  give  them  no  ground  to  claim  Zuichem  as  their 
own.  If  you  approve  their  teaching,  at  least  dissem- 
ble your  approval ;  and,  above  all,  never  dispute  with 
them.  A  jurisconsult  must  be  on  his  guard  with  these 
people,  as  a  certain  dying  man  eluded  the  devil.  The 
devil  asked  him  what  he  believed.  The  dying  man, 
fearing  that,  if  he  confessed,  he  should  be  surprised  in 
some  heresy,  answered,  '  What  the  Church  believes.' 
His  interrogator  pressed  him  with  the  question,  '  What 
does  the  Church  believe  V  The  other  replied,  '  What 
I  believe  !'  Again,  the  devil,  « And  what  do  you  be- 
lieve'!' and  the  dying  man  rejoined,  '  What  the  Church 
believes.'  "* 

So  the  duke,  George  of  Saxony,  the  mortal  enemy 
of  Luther,  having  received  an  equivocal  answer  to  a 
question  he  had  addressed  to  Erasmus,  exclaimed  aloud, 
"  My  dear  Erasmus,  wash  me  the  robe,  if  you  can, 
without  wetting  it."  Secundus  Curio,  in  one  of  his 
works,  depicts  two  heavens,  the  papal  and  the  Chris- 
tian. He  found  Erasmus  in  neither  ;  but  perceived 
him  incessantly  wheeling,  in  never  ending  eddies,  be- 
tween both. 

Such  was  Erasmus.  He  wanted  that  "  liberty  of 
heart "  which  makes  truly  free.  How  different  would 
he  have  been,  if  he  had  given  up  himself  to  devote  his 
soul  to  truth.  But,  after  trying  to  work  some  reforms, 
with  the  approbation  of  the  heads  of  the  Church — after 
having,  for  the  sake  of  Rome,  abandoned  the  Refor- 
mation, when  he  saw  that  the  two  could  not  walk  to- 
gether— he  lost  all  his  influence  with  either.  On  the 
one  side  his  recantations  could  not  repress  the  indig- 
nation of  the  fanatic  partisans  of  popery.  They  felt 
the  injury  he  had  done  them,  and  never  forgave  it. 
The  monks  poured  forth  abuse  on  him  from  their  pul- 
pits. They  called  him  a  second  Lucian,  a  fox  that  had 
laid  waste  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord.  A  doctor  of 
Constance  had  the  portrait  of  Erasmus  hung  up  in 
his  study,  that  he  might  spit  in  his  face  as  often  as  he 
pleased. 

And,  on  the  other  hand,  Erasmus,  forsaking  the 
standard  of  the  Gospel,  found  himself  deprived  of  the 
affection  and  esteem  of  the  noblest  men  of  his  age,  and 
had  doubtless  to  surfer  the  loss  of  those  heavenly  con- 
solations which  God  sheds  into  the  hearts  of  those  who 
act  as  good  soldiers  of  Christ.  So,  at  least,  it  would 
seem,  from  the  bitter  tears,  painful  vigils,  disturbed 
rest,  failure  of  appetite,  and  loss  of  relish  for  literary 
pursuits,  once  his  only  enjoyments,  wrinkled  forehead, 
sallow  complexion,  and  dejected  and  sorrowful  expres- 
sion, that  hatred  of  what  he  calls  a  cruel  life,  and  de- 
sire of  death,  which  he  described  to  his  friends,  f  Poor 
Erasmus  ! 

The  enemies  of  Erasmus  went  a  little  beyond  the 
truth,  when  they  said,  on  the  appearance  of  Luther, 
"  Erasmus  laid  the  egg,  and  Luther  has  hatched  it."f 

The  same  signs  of  new  life  that  were  seen  among 
the  princes,  the  bishops,  and  the  learned,  were  visible 
among  men  of  the  world,  nobles,  knights,  and  war- 
riors. The  nobles  of  Germany  played  an  important 

*  Erasmi  Epist.,  374. 

t  Vlgilise  molestse,  sommus  irrequietus,  cibus  insipidus  om- 

nis,  ipsum  quoque  musarum  studium ipsa  frontis  meae 

majstitia,  vultiis  palor,  oculorum  subtristis  dejectio . . .  (Erasm 
Epp.  1,  p.  1380.) 

\  The  works  of  Erasmus  were  edited  by  John  Leclerc, 
at  Liege,  in  1703,  in  10  vols.  folio.  For  his  life,  consult  Bu- 
rigny  Vie  d'Erasme,  Paris,  1757.  A  Miiller  Leben  des  Eras- 
mus— Hamb.  1S28  ;  and  the  life  inserted  by  Leclerc  in  his 
"  Bibliothequc  Choisie."  See  also  the  able  and  impartial  per- 
formance of  M.  Nisard,  (Revue  des  deux  mondes) — yet  M 
Nisard  seems  to  me  to  be  mistaken  in  his  estimate  of  Luther 
and  Erasmus. 


part  in  the  Reformation.  Many  of  the  most  illustrious 
sons  of  Germany  formed  a  close  alliance  with  literary 
men,  and,  inflamed  with  a  zeal,  sometimes  indiscreet, 
made  efforts  to  deliver  their  dependants  from  the  yoke 
of  Rome. 

Various  causes  would  contribute  to  make  friends  to 
the  Reformation  among  the  nobles.  Some,  having 
frequented  the  universities,  had  there  received  into 
their  bosoms  that  fire  with  which  the  learned  were 
animated.  Others,  educated  in  noble  sentiments,  had 
hearts  open  to  the  elevating  doctrines  of  the  Gospel. 
Many  found  in  the  Reformation  a  vague  and  chivalrous 
something  to  charm  and  captivate  them.  Others,  it 
must  be  owned,  were  influenced  by  ill  will  to  the  clergy, 
who  had  helped,  under  the  rule  of  Maximilian,  to  de- 
prive them  of  their  ancient  independence,  and  reduce 
them  to  submission  to  their  princes.  Full  of  enthu- 
siasm, they  deemed  the  Reformation  tho  prelude  of  a 
great  political  renovation ;  they  hoped  to  behold  the 
empire  emerge  from  the  crisis  with  a  splendour  alto- 
gether unprecedented,  and  a  better  and  more  glorious 
state  of  things  established  in  the  world  as  much  by  the 
sword  of  chivalry  as  by  the  word  of  God.* 

Ulric  de  Hu'tten,  surnamed  the  Demosthenes  of 
Germany,  from  his  philippics  against  the  papacy,  forms, 
as  it  were,  the  link  which  then  held  united  the  knights 
and  the  men  of  letters.  He  was  no  less  distinguished 
by  his  writings  than  by  his  military  exploits.  Descend- 
ed from  an  ancient  family  of  Franconia,  he  was  sent, 
when  eleven  years  old,  to  the  convent  of  Fulda,  to  be- 
come in  due  time  a  monk.  But  Ulric,  who  felt  no  in- 
clination for  that  vocation,  fled  from  the  convent  in  his 
sixteenth  year,  and  repaired  to  the  University  of  Co- 
logne, where  he  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  lan- 
guages and  poetry.  At  a  later  period  he  led  a  wander- 
ing life  ;  was  present,  in  1513,  at  the  siege  of  Padua,  in 
the  capacity  of  a  common  soldier;  saw  Rome  and  all 
her  abominations,  and  there  sharpened  the  darts  which 
he  afterward  hurled  against  her. 

On  his  return  to  Germany,  Hu'tten  composed  against 
Rome  a  writing  entitled  The  Roman  Trinity.  He 
there  strips  bare  the  disorders  of  that  court,  and  shows 
the  necessity  of  putting  a  forcible  stop  to  its  oppres- 
sions. "  There  are  three  things,"  says  a  traveller, 
named  Vadiscus,  introduced  in  this  tract,  "  which  we 
commonly  bring  away  with  us  from  Rome — a  bad 
conscience,  a  vitiated  stomach,  and  an  empty  purse. 
There  are  three  things  which  Rome  does  not  believe 
in — the  immortality  of  the  soul,  the  resurrection  of  the 
dead,  and  hell.  There  are  three  things  which  Rome 
trades  in — the  grace  of  Christ,  the  dignities  of  the 
church,  and  women."  The  last  writing  obliged  Hiitten 
to  quit  the  court  of  the  archbishop  of  Mentz,  where  he 
was  residing  when  he  composed  it. 

When  Reuchlin's  affair  with  the  Dominicans  made 
a  noise,  Hu'tten  took  the  part  of  the  learned  doctor. 
One  of  his  university  acquaintances,  Crotus  Robianus, 
and  others,  composed  at  that  time  the  famous  satire, 
known  by  the  name  of  "  Letters  of  Obscure  Men," 
which  first  appeared  in  1516,  one  year  before  the  theses 
of  Luther.  This  writing  was  attributed  especially  to 
Hu'tten,  and  it  is  very  probable  that  he  had  a  large 
share  in  its  composition.  In  it  the  monks,  who  were 
the  enemies  of  Reuchlin,  and  are  exhibited  as  the 
authors  of  these  letters,  discourse  of  the  affairs  of  the 
time,  and  of  theological  subjects,  in  their  manner  and 
in  barbarous  Latin.  They  address  to  their  correspon- 
dent Eratius,  professor  at  Cologne,  the  most  idolic  and 

*  Animus  ingens  et  ferox,  viribus  pollens.  Nam  si  consilia 
et  conatus  Hutteni  non  defecissent,  quasi  neryi  copiarum, 
atque  potentiae,  jam  mutatio  omnium  rerum  extitisset,  et.  quasi 
orbis  status  public!  fuisset  conversus. — Camcr.  Vita  Melanc~ 
thonis. 


36 


HUTTEN  AT  BRUSSELS— SICKINGEN. 


useless  questions ;  they  discover  with  the  utmost  sim 
plicity  their  gross  ignorance,  incredulity,  superstition 
and  low  and  vulgar  spirit,  and  at  the  same  time  their 
pride,  and  fanatical,  and  persecuting  zeal.     They  re- 
late to  him  many  of  their  low  adventures  and  debauche- 
ries, and  many  scandalous  particulars  of  the  conduct 
of  Hochstraten,  Pfefferkorn,  and  other  heads  of  their 
party.      These  letters  are  very  amusing,  from  their 
mixture  of  hypocrisy  and  stupidity  :  and  the  whole  was 
so  much  to  the  life,  that  the  Dominicans  and  Francis- 
cans of  England  received  the  writing  with  great  appro- 
bation, and  thought  it  to  be  really  composed  in  the 
principles  and  for  the  defence  of  their  order.     A  prior 
of  Brabant,  in  his  credulous  simplicity,  bought  a  large 
number  of  copies,  and  sent  them  as  presents  to  the 
most  distinguished  of  the  Dominicans.     The  monks, 
more  and  more  irritated,  importuned  Leo  X.  for  a  severe 
bull  against  all  who  should  dare  to  read  these  letters ; 
but  that  pontiff  refused  them.      They  were  compelled 
to  endure  the  general  ridicule,  and  to  suppress  their 
anger.     No  work  ever  struck  a  more  terrible  blow  at 
the  pillars  of  popery.     But  it  was  not  by  ridicule  and 
satire  that  the  Gospel  was  ordained  to  triumph.     If  its 
friends  had  continued  their  progress  in  these  ways  ; 
if  the  Reformation,  instead  of  attacking  error  with  the 
weapons  of  God,  had  had  recourse  to  the  spirit  of 
mockery,  its  cause  had  been  lost.     Luther  loudly  con- 
demned these  satires.     One  of  his  acquaintances  ha- 
ving sent  him  one,  entitled  "  The  Burthen  of  the  Peti- 
tion of  Pasquin."     "  The  absurdities  you  have  sent 
me,"  said  he,  "  appear  to  be  the  production  of  an  ill- 
regulated  mind.     I  have  shown  them  to  some  friends, 
and  they  all  formed  the  same  opinion  of  them."    And 
in  reference  to  the  same  work,  he  wrote  to  another  of 
his  correspondents.      "  This  petition  seems  to  me  a 
freak  of  the  same  buffoon  who  wrote  the  Letters  of 
Obscure  Men.     I  approve  his  design,  but  not  his  per- 
formance ;  for  he  deals  only  in  reproachful  and  insulting 
language."*     This  judgment  may  be  thought  severe, 
but  it  shows  the  spirit  of  Luther,  and  how  he  arose 
above  his  contemporaries.     Yet  it  must  be  added  that 
he  did  not  always  follow  these  wise  maxims. 

Ulric,  being  obliged  to  renounce  the  protection  of 
the  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  courted  the  favour  of  Charles 
V.,  who  was  then  at  variance  with  the  pope. 

He  repaired  to  Brussels,  where  Charles  held  his 
court.  But,  far  from  gaining  any  advantage,  he  learned 
that  the  pope  had  required  the  emperor  to  send  him, 
bound  hand  and  foot,  to  Rome.  The  inquisitor  Hoch- 
straten, the  persecutor  of  Reuchlin,  was  one  of  those 
charged  with  the  office  of  bringing  him  to  trial.  Indig- 
nant that  his  enemies  should  have  dared  to  make  such 
a  demand  of  the  emperor,  Ulric  quitted  Brabant.  Just 
outside  Brussels  he  met  Hochstraten  on  the  road.  The 
terrified  inquisitor  fell  upon  his  knees  and  commended 
his  soul  to  God  and  the  saints.  "  No,"  said  the  knight ; 
"  I  will  not  soil  my  weapon  with  thy  blood  !"  He 
gave  him  some  strokes  with  the  flat  of  his  sword,  and 
allowed  him  to  pass  unhurt. 

Hutten  sought  refuge  in  the  Castle  of  Ebernberg, 
where  Francis  of  Sickingen  offered  an  asylum  to  all 
who  were  persecuted  by  the  Ultramontanes.  It  was 
there  that  his  zeal,  panting  for  the  enfranchisement  of 
his  nation,  dictated  those  remarkable  letters  addressed 
to  Charles  V.,  Frederic  the  elector  of  Saxony,  Albert, 
Archbishop  of  Mentz,  and  the  princes  and  nobility, 
which  place  him  in  the  first  rank  of  orators.  There  he 
composed  all  those  writings,  destined  to  be  read  and 
comprehended  by  the  common  people,  which  spread 
throughout  the  German  population  a  horror  of  Rome 
and  a  love  of  liberty.  Devoted  to  the  cause  of  the 
Reformer,  his  design  was  to  lead  the  nobles  to  take  up 
•  Lutheri  Epp.  i.,  p.  37,  38. 


arms  in  favour  of  the  Gospel,  and  to  rush  sword  in  hand 
on  that  Rome  which  Luther  aimed  to  destroy  only  by 
the  word  and  invincible  power  of  the  truth. 

And  yet,  in  the  midst  of  all  this  warlike  exultation, 
it  is  delightful  to  find  in  Hutten  kind  and  considerate 
feelings.  At  the  death  of  his  parents,  he  gave  up  to 
his  brothers  all  the  property  of  the  family,  though  he 
was  the  eldest  son,  and  even  begged  them  not  to  write 
to  him  nor  send  him  any  money,  lest,  notwithstanding 
their  innocence,  they  should  be  exposed  to  the  malice 
of  his  enemies,  and  fall  with  him  into  the  pit. 

If  truth  cannot  acknowledge  him  as  one  of  her  chil- 
dren, for  she  ever  walks  in  company  with  holiness  of 
life  and  charity  of  heart,  she  will  at  least  accord  to  him 
an  honourable  mention  as  one  of  the  most  formidable 
enemies  of  error.* 

The  same  may  be  said  of  Francis  of  Sickingen,  his 
illustrious  friend  and  protector.  This  noble  knight, 
whom  many  of  his  contemporaries  judged  worthy  of  the 
imperial  crown,  shines  in  the  foremost  rank  of  the  war- 
like antagonists  of  Rome.  Though  delighting  in  the 
noise  of  battles,  he  was  full  of  ardour  for  learning,  and 
veneration  for  its  professors.  At  the  head  of  an  army 
which  threatened  Wurtemburg,  he  commanded  that  in 
case  Stutgard  should  be  taken  by  assault,  the  house 
and  property  of  the  distinguished  scholar,  John  Reuch- 
lin, should  be  respected.  He  afterward  invited  him  to 
lis  camp,  embraced  him,  and  tendered  him  his  assis- 
tance in  the  contest  between  him  and  the  monks  of 
ologrie.  Chivalry  had  for  a  long  time  prided  itself  in 
despising  learning.  The  period  we  are  retracing  pre- 
sents a  new  spectacle.  Under  the  ponderous  cuirasses 
of  Sickingen  and  Hutten,  we  perceive  that  new  move- 
ment of  the  general  intelligence  then  everywhere 
aeginning  to  make  itself  felt.  The  Reformation  gave 
.o  the  world,  as  its  first  fruits,  warriors  who  were  friends 
of  the  arts  and  of  peace. 

Hutten,  during  his  residence  at  the  Castle  of  Sickin- 
ren,  after  his  return  from  Brussels,  encouraged  the 
>rave  knight  to  study  the  evangelic  doctrine,  and  ex- 
plained to  him  the  main  truths  on  which  it  is  based. 
'  And  is  there  any  man,"  exclaimed  Sickingen,  in 
istonishment,  "  that  dares  seek  to  overturn  such  a 
doctrine  !  Who  dares  to  attempt  it  ?" 

Several  who  were  at  a  later  period  distinguished  as 
Reformers,  found  a  refuge  in  his  castle.  Among  others, 
Vlartin  Bucer,  Aquila,  Schwebel,  CEcolampadius  ;  so 
hat  Hutten,  with  some  reason,  designated  Ebernberg 
he  "  house  of  the  just."  CEcolampadius  preached, 
according  to  his  custom,  every  day  at  the  castle. 
Vevertheless  the  warriors  there  collected  were  'ere  long 
weary  of  hearing  so  much  of  the  mild  virtues  of  Chris- 
ianity  ;  the  sermons  were  too  long  for  them,  though 
GEcolampadius  did  his  best  to  be  brief.  They,  how- 
ever, came  every  day  to  church,  but  it  was  merely  to 
ear  the  benediction,  or  to  make  a  short  prayer,  so  that 
CEcolampadius  was  used  to  exclaim,  "  Alas  !  the  word 
s  here  sown  upon  rocks." 

Soon  after,  Sickingen,  wishing  to  help  the  cause  of 
ruth  in  his  own  fashion,  declared  war  against  the 
Archbishop  of  Treves,  "  to  open  a  door,"  as  he  said, 
for  the  Gospel."  It  was  in  vain  that  Luther,  who 
iad  then  appeared,  dissuaded  him  from  it ;  he  attacked 
Treves  with  five  thousand  horse  and  a  thousand  foot. 
The  couragious  archbishop,  assisted  by  the  Palatine 
nd  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse,  compelled  him  to  retreat, 
n  the  spring  following,  the  allies  besieged  him  in  his 
Castle  of  Landslein.  After  a  bloody  assault,  Sickingen 
was  obliged  to  retire  :  he  was  mortally  wounded.  The 
hree  princes  penetrated  into  the  fortress,  and,  passing 
hrough  its  apartments,  found  the  lion-hearted  knight 

*  Hiitten's  works  hare  been  published  at  Berlin  by  Mun- 
hen,  1822  to  1336,  in  5  vols.,  8vo. 


CRONBERG— HANS  SACHS. 


37 


in  a  vault,  stretched  on  his  death  bed.  He  put  forth 
his  hand  to  the  Palatine,  without  seeming  to  notice 
the  princes  who  accompanied  him.  But  they  over- 
whelmed him  with  questions  and  reproaches.  "  Leave 
me  in  quiet,"  said  he,  "  for  I  must  now  prepare  to 
answer  to  a  greater  Lord  than  ye."  When  Luther 
heard  of  his  death,  he  exclaimed,  "  The  Lord  is  just 
but  wonderful !  It  is  not  by  the  sword  that  he  will 
have  his  gospel  propagated." 

Such  was  the  melancholy  end  of  a  warrior  who,  as 
emperor,  or  as  an  elector,  might  perhaps  have  raised 
Germany  to  a  high  degree  of  glory,  but  who,  confined 
within  a  narrow  circle,  expended  uselessly  the  great 
powers  with  which  he  was  gifted.  It  was  not  in  the 
tumultuous  minds  of  these  warriors  that  divine  truth 
came  to  fix  her  abode.  It  was  not  by  their  arms  that 
the  truth  was  to  prevail ;  and  God,  by  bringing  to 
nought  the  mad  projects  of  Sickingen,  confirmed  anew 
the  testimony  of  St.  Paul,  "  The  weapons  of  our  war- 
fare are  not  carnal,  but  mighty  through  God." 

Another  knight,  Harmut  of  Cronberg,  the  friend  of 
Hiitten  and  Sickingen,  appears,  however,  to  have  had 
more  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  the  truth.  He  wrote 
with  much  modesty  to  Leo  X.,  urging  him  to  restore 
his  temporal  power  to  him  to  whom  it  belonged,  namely, 
to  the  emperor.  Addressing  his  subjects  as  a  father, 
he  endeavoured  to  explain  to  them  the  doctrines  of  the 
Gospel,  and  exhorted  them  to  faith,  obedience  and  trust 
in  Jesus  Christ,  "  who,"  added  he,  "  is  the  sovereign 
Lord  of  all."  He  resigned  to  the  emperor  a  pension 
of  two  hundred  ducats,  "  because  he  would  no  longer 
serve  one  who  gave  ear  to  the  enemies  of  the  truth." 
And  we  find  a  saying  of  his  recorded  which  places  him, 
in  our  judgment,  above  Hiitten  and  Sickingen  :  "  Our 
heavenly  teacher,  the  Holy  Ghost,  can,  when  he  pleases, 
teach  us  in  one  hour  much  more  of  the  faith  of  Christ, 
than  could  be  learned  in  ten  years  at  the  University  of 
Paris." 

However,  those  who  only  look  for  the  friends  of 
the  Reformation  on  the  steps  of  thrones,*  or  in  cathe- 
drals and  academies,  and  who  suppose  it  had  no  friends 
among  the  people,  are  greatly  mistaken.  God,  who 
was  preparing  the  hearts  of  the  wise  and  powerful,  was 
also  preparing  among  the  lowest  of  the  people  many 
simple  and  humble  men,  who  were  one  day  to  become 
the  promoters  of  his  truth.  The  history  of  those  times 
shows  the  excitement  that  prevailed  among  the  lower 
classes.  There  were  not  only  many  young  men  who 
rose  to  fill  the  highest  offices  in  the  Church,  but  there 
were  men  who  continued  all  their  lives  employed  in 
the  humblest  occupations,  who  powerfully  contributed 
to  the  revival  of  Christianity.  We  relate  some  cir 
cumstances  in  the  life  of  one  of  them. 

He  was  the  son  of  a  tailor  named  Hans  Sachs,  and 
was  born  at  Nuremberg,  the  5th  November,  1494. 
He  was  named  Hans  (John)  after  his  father,  and  had 
made  some  progress  in  his  studies,  when  a  severe  ill- 
ness obliging  him  to  abandon  them,  he  applied  himself 
to  the  trade  of  a  shoemaker.  Young  Hans  took  ad- 
vantage of  the  liberty  this  humble  profession  afforded 
to  his  mind  to  search  into  higher  subjects  better  suited 
to  his  inclination.  Since  music  had  been  banished 
from  the  castles  of  the  nobles,  it  seems  to  have  sought 
and  found  an  asylum  among  the  lower  orders  of  the 
merry  cities  of  Germany.  A  school  for  singing  was 
held  in  the  church  of  Nuremberg.  The  exercises  in 
which  young  Hans  joined  opened  his  heart  to  religious 
impressions,  and  helped  to  excite  in  him  a  taste  for 
poetry  and  music.  However,  the  young  man's  genius 
could  not  long  be  confined  within  the  walls  of  a  work- 
shop. He  wished  to  see  that  world  of  which  he  had 
read  so  much  in  books,  of  which  his  companions  had 
*  See  Chateaubriand  Etudes  Historiques. 


told  him  so  much,  and  which  his  youthful  imagination 
peopled  with  wonders.  In  1511,  he  took  his  bundle 
on  his  shoulders,  and  set  out,  directing  his  course  to- 
ward the  south.  The  young  traveller,  who  met  with 
merry  companions  on  his  road,  students  who  were 
aassing  through  the  country,  and  many  dangerous  at- 
:ractions,  soon  felt  within  himself  a  fearful  struggle. 
The  lusts  of  life  and  his  holy  resolutions  contended 
"or  the  mastery.  Trembling  for  the  issue,  he  fled  and 
sought  refuge  in  the  little  town  of  Wels,  in  Austria, 
1513,)  where  he  lived  in  retirement,  and  in  the  culti- 
vation of  the  fine  arts.  The  Emperor  Maximilian 
happened  to  pass  through  the  town  with  a  brilliant  re- 
tinue. The  young  poet  was  carried  away  by  the 
splendour  of  this  court.  The  prince  received  him  into 
us  hunting  establishment,  and  Hans  again  forgot  his 
setter  resolutions  in  the  joyous  chambers  of  the  pa- 
"ace  of  Inspruck.  But  again  his  conscience  loudly 
reproached  him.  The  young  huntsman  laid  aside  his 
glittering  uniform,  set  out,  repaired  to  Schwartz,  and 
afterward  to  Munich.  It  was  there,  in  1514,  at  the 
age  of  twenty,  he  sang  his  first  hymn,  "  to  the  honour 
of  God,"  to  a  well  known  chaunt.  He  was  loaded 
with  applause.  Everywhere  in  his  travels  he  had  oc- 
casion to  notice  numerous  and  melancholy  proofs  of 
the  abuses  under  which  religion  was  labouring. 

On  his  return  to  Nuremberg,  Hans  settled  in  life, 
married,  and  became  the  father  of  a  family.  When 
the  Reformation  burst  forth,  he  lent  an  attentive  ear. 
He  clung  to  that  holy  book  which  had  already  become 
dear  to  him  as  a  poet,  and  which  he  now  no  longer 
searched  for  pictures  and  music,  but  for  the  light  of 
truth.  To  this  sacred  truth  he  soon  dedicated  his 
lyre.  From  a  humble  workshop,  situated  at  one  of 
the  gates  of  the  imperial  city  of  Nuremberg,  proceed- 
ed sounds  that  resounded  through  all  Germany,  pre- 
paring the  minds  of  men  for  a  new  era,  and  every- 
where endearing  to  the  people  the  great  revolution 
which  was  then  in  progress.  The  spiritual  songs  of 
Hans  Sachs,  his  Bible  in  verse,  powerfully  assisted 
this  work.  It  would  perhaps  be  difficult  to  say  to 
which  it  was  most  indebted,  the  Prince  Elector  of 
Saxony,  Administrator  of  the  empire,  or  the  shoe- 
maker of  Nuremberg ! 

There  was  at  this  time  something  in  every  class  of 
society  that  presaged  a  Reformation.  In  every  quar- 
ter signs  were  manifest,  and  events  were  pressing  for- 
ward that  threatened  to  overturn  the  work  of  ages  of 
darkness,  and  to  bring  about  "  a  new  order  of  things." 
The  light  discovered  in  that  age  had  communicated  to 
all  countries,  with  inconceivable  rapidity,  a  multitude 
of  new  ideas.  The  minds  of  men,  which  had  slept 
for  so  many  ages,seemed  resolved  to  redeem,  by  their 
activity,  the  time  they  had  lost.  To  have  left  them 
idle  and  without  nourishment,  or  to  have  offered  them 
no  other  food  than  that  which  had  long  sustained  their 
languishing  existence,  would  have  shown  great  igno- 
rance of  human  nature.  The  mind  of  man  saw  clear- 
ly what  was,  and  what  was  coming,  and  surveyed  with 
daring  eye  the  immense  gulph  that  separated  these 
two  worlds.  Great  princes  were  seated  upon  the 
throne ;  the  ancient  colossus  of  Rome  was  tottering 
under  its  own  weight ;  the  by-gone  spirit  of  chivalry 
was  leaving  the  world,  and  giving  place  to  a  new  spi- 
rit which  breathed  at  the  same  time  from  the  sanctu- 
aries of  learning  and  from  the  dwellings  of  the  com- 
mon people ;  the  art  of  printing  had  given  wings  to 
the  written  word,  which  carried  it,  like  certain  seeds, 
to  the  most  distant  regions ;  the  discovery  of  the  In- 
dies enlarged  the  boundaries  of  the  world.  Every- 
thing proclaimed  a  mighty  revolution  at  hand. 

But  whence  was  the  stroke  to  come  that  should 
throw  down  the  ancient  edifice,  and  call  up  a  new 


38 


LUTHER'S  PARENTS— BIRTH  OF  LUTHER. 


structure  from  the  ruins  1  No  one  could  answer  this 
question.  Who  had  more  wisdom  than  Frederic  1 
Who  had  more  learning  than  Reuchlin  1  Who  had 
more  talent  than  Erasmus1?  Who  had  more  wit 
and  energy  than  Hiitten?  Who  had  more  cou- 
rage than  Sickingen  1  Who  had  more  virtue  than 
Cronberg  1  And  yet  it  was  neither  Frederic,  nor 
Reuchlin,  nor  Erasmus,  nor  H  tten,  nor  Sickingen, 
nor  Cronberg.  Learned  men,  princes,  warriors,  the 
Church  itself,  all  had  undermined  some  of  the  old 


foundations  ;  but  there  they  had  stopped  :  and  no 
where  was  seen  the  hand  of  power  that  was  to  be 
God's  instrument. 

However,  all  felt  that  it  would  soon  be  seen. 
Some  pretended  to  have  discovered  in  the  stars  sure 
indications  of  its  appearing.  Some,  seeing  the  mise- 
rable state  of  religion,  foretold  the  near  approach  of 
Antichrist.  Others,  on  the  contrary,  presaged  some 
reformation  at  hand.  The  world  was  in  expectation. 
Luther  appeared. 


BOOK  II. 

THE  YOUTH,  CONVERSION,  AND  EARLY  LABOURS  OF  LUTHER. 

1483—1517 


A.H  things  were  ready.  God  who  prepares  his  work 
for  ages,  accomplishes  it,  when  his  time  is  come,  by 
the  feeblest  instruments.  It  is  the  method  of  God's 
providence  to  effect  great  results  by  inconsiderable 
means.  This  law,  which  pervades  the  kingdom  of 
nature,  is  discerned  also  in  the  history  of  mankind. 
God  chwse  the  Reformers  of  the  Church  from  the 
same  condition,  and  wordly  circumstances,  from 
whence  he  had  before  taken  the  Apostles.  He  chose 
them  from  that  humble  class  which,  though  not  the 
lowest,  can  hardly  be  said  to  belong  to  the  middle 
ranks.  Every  thing  was  thus  to  make  manifest  to  the 
world  that  the  work  was  not  of  man,  but  of  God. 
The  reformer,  Zwingle,  emerged  from  a  shepherd's 
hut  among  the  Alps  ;  Melancthon,  the  great  theolo- 
gian of  the  Reformation,  from  an  armourer's  work- 
shop, and  Luther  from  the  cottage  of  a  poor  miner. 
The  opening  period  of  a  man's  life, — that  in  which 
his  natural  character  is  formed  and  developed  under 
the  hand  of  God, — is  always  important.  It  is  espe- 
cially so  in  Luther's  career.  The  whole  Reformation 
was  there. 

The  different  phases  of  this  work  succeeded  each 
other  in  the  mind  of  him  who  was  to  be  the  instrument 
for  it,  before  it  was  publicly  accomplished  in  the  world. 
The  knowledge  of  the  Reformation  effected  in  the 
heart  of  Luther  himself  is,  in  truth,  the  key  to  the  Re- 
formation of  the  Church.  It  is  only  by  studying  the 
work  in  the  individual,  that  we  can  comprehend  the 
general  work.  They  who  neglect  the  former,  will 
know  but  the  form  and  exterior  signs  of  the  latter. 
They  may  gain  knowledge  of  certain  events  and  re- 
sults, but  they  will  never  comprehend  the  intrinsic 
nature  of  that  renovation  ;  for  the  principle  of  life  that 
was  the  soul  of  it  will  remain  unknown  to  them.  Let 
us  then  study  the  Reformation  of  Luther  himself,  be- 
fore we  contemplate  the  facts  that  changed  the  state 
of  Christendom. 

John  Luther,  the  son  of  a  peasant  of  the  village  of 
Mora,  near  Eisenach,  in  the  county  of  Mansfield,  in 
Thuringia,  descended  from  an  ancient  and  widely- 
spread  family  of  humble  peasantry,*  married  the 
daughter  of  an  inhabitant  of  Neustadt,  in  the  bishopric 
of  Wurzburg,  named  Margaret  Lindemann.  The  new 
married  couple  left  Eisenach,  and  went  to  settle  in  the 
little  town  of  Eisleben,  in  Saxony. 

Seckendorff  relates,  on  the  testimony  of  Relhan,  the 
superintendant  of  Eisenach  in  1601,  that  the  mother 
of  Luther,  thinking  her  time  was  not  near,  had  gone  to 

*  Vestus  familia  est  et  late  propagata  mediocrium  hominum 
(Melanc.  Vit.  Luth.) 


,he  fair  of  Eisleben,  and  that  there  she  was  brought  to 
)ed  of  her  son.  Notwithstanding  the  credit  that  is  due 
x>  Seckendorff,  this  fact  does  not  seem  well  authenti- 
cated ;  indeed,  it  is  not  alluded  to  by  any  of  the  oldest 
listorians  of  Luther  ;  moreover,  the  distance  from  Mora 
;o  Eisleben  must  be  about  twenty-four  leagues — a 
journey  not  likely  to  have  been  undertaken  in  the  state 
n  which  Luther's  mother  then  was,  for  the  sake  of 
a;oing  to  a  fair ;  and,  lastly,  the  testimony  of  Luther 
himself  appears  to  contradict  this  assertion.* 

John  Luther  was  a  man  of  upright  character,  diligent 
in  his  business,  open-hearted,  and  possessing  a  strength 
of  purpose  bordering  upon,  obstinacy.  Of  more  culti- 
vated mind  than  the  generality  of  his  class,  he  read 
much.  Books  were  then  rare ;  but  John  did  not 
neglect  any  opportunity  of  procuring  them.  They 
were  his  recreation  in  the  intervals  of  rest,  that  his 
severe  and  assiduous  labours  allowed  him.  Margaret 
possessed  those  virtues  which  adorn  good  and  pious 
women.  Modesty,  the  fear  of  God,  and  devotion, 
especially  marked  her  character.  She  was  considered 
by  the  mothers  of  families  in  the  place  where  she 
resided,  as  a  model  worthy  of  their  imitation.! 

It  is  not  precisely  known  how  long  the  new-married 
couple  had  been  settled  at  Eisleben,  when,  on  the 
tenth  of  November,  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
Margaret  gave  birth  to  a  son.  Melancthon  often 
questioned  the  mother  of  his  friends  as  to  the  time  of 
her  son's  birth.  "  I  well  remember  the  day  and  the 
hour,"  replied  she ;  "  but  I  am  not  certain  about  the 
year."  But  James,  the  brother  of  Luther,  an  honest 
and  upright  man,  said  that,  according  to  the  opinion  of 
all  the  family,  Martin  was  born  in  the  year  of  our  Lord 
1483,  on  the  tenth  of  November.  It  was  the  eve  of 
St.  Martin. t  The  first  thought  of  his  pious  parents 
was  to  devote  to  God,  by  the  rite  of  baptism,  the  child 
that  had  been  sent  them.  The  next  day,  which  was 
Tuesday,  the  father,  with  joy  and  gratitude,  carried  his 
son  to  St.  Peter's  church.  It  was  there  he  received 
the  seal  of  his  dedication  to  the  Lord.  They  named 
him  Martin,  in  memory  of  the  day. 

Little  Martin  was  not  six  months  old,  when  his 
parents  left  Eisleben,  to  go  to  Mansfield,  which  is  only 
five  leagues  distant.  The  mines  of  Mansfield  were 
then  much  celebrated.  John  Luther,  an  industrious 

*  Ego  natus  sum  in  Eisleben  baptizatusque  apud  Sanctum 
Petrum  ibidem.    Parentes  mei  de  prope  Isenaco  illuc  migra- 
runt.     (L.  Epp.  i.,  p.  390.) 

f  Intuebanturque  in  earn  cseterse  honestfe  mnlieres,  ut  m 
exemplar  virtutum.  (Melancthon  Vita  Lutheri.) 

*  Melancth.  Vita  Lutheri. 


LUTHER'S  EARLY  LIFE— MAGDEBURG. 


39 


man,  feeling  that  he  should  perhaps  be  called  upon  to 
bring  up  a  numerous  family,  hoped  to  get  a  better 
livelihood  there  for  himself  and  his  children.  It  was 
in  this  town  that  the  understanding  and  physical 
powers  of  young  Luther  were  first  developed  ;  it  was 
there  that  his  activity  began  to  display  itself;  there 
he  began  to  speak  and  act.  The  plains  of  Mansfield, 
the  banks  of  the  Vipper,  were  the  theatre  of  his  first 
sports  with  the  children  of  the  neighbourhood. 

The  early  years  of  their  abode  at  Mansfield  were  full 
of  difficulty  for  the  worthy  John  and  his  wife.  They 
lived  at  first  in  extreme  poverty.  "  My  parents,"  said 
the  Reformer,  "  were  very  poor.  My  father  was  a 
woodcutter,  and  my  mother  has  often  carried  the  wood 
on  her  back,  that  she  might  earn  wherewith  to  bring  us 
children  up.  They  endured  the  hardest  labour  for  our 
sakes."  The  example  of  parents  whom  he  reverenced, 
and  the  habits  they  trained  him  to,  very  early  accus- 
tomed Luther  to  toil  and  frugal  fare.  How  often  may 
Martin,  when  a  child,  have  accompanied  his  mother 
to  the  wood,  and  made  up  and  brought  to  her  his 
little  faggot. 

There  are  blessings  promised  to  the  labour  of  the 
righteous,  and  John  Luther  experienced  their  reality. 
He  gradually  made  his  way,  and  established  at  Mans- 
field two  small  furnaces  for  iron.  By  the  side  of  these 
forges  little  Martin  grew  up — and  it  was  with  the 
earnings  of  this  industry  that  his  father  was  afterward 
able  to  place  him  at  school.  "  It  was  from  a  miner's 
fire-side,"  says  the  worthy  Mathesius,  "  that  one  who 
was  destined  to  recast  vital  Christianity  was  to  go 
forth  :  an  expression  of  God's  purpose,  by  his  means, 
to  cleanse  the  sons  of  Levi,  and  refine  them  as  gold  in 
His  furnace."*  Respected  by  all  for  his  uprightness, 
irreproachable  conduct,  and  good  sense,  he  was  made 
one  of  the  council  of  Mansfield,  the  chief  town  of  the 
district  so  called.  Circumstances  of  too  pinching  want 
might  have  weighed  down  their  child's  spirit ;  while 
comparatively  easy  circumstances  would  dilate  his 
heart  and  raise  his  character. 

John  took  advantage  of  his  new  appointment,  to  court 
the  society  he  preferred.  He  paid  great  attention  to 
the  learned,  and  often  invited  to  his  table  the  ecclesi- 
astics and  schoolmasters  of  the  place.  His  house 
afforded  a  sample  of  those  social  meetings  of  citizens 
that  did  honour  to  Germany  in  the  beginning  of  the 
sixteenth  century.  It  was  a  kind  of  mirror,  to  which 
came,  and  wherein  were  reflected,  the  numerous 
subjects  which  successively  took  possessio»  of  the 
agitated  stage  of  the  times.  The  child  derived  advan- 
tage from  this.  Doubtless  the  sight  of  these  men,  to 
whom  so  much  respect  was  shown  in  his  father's 
house,  excited  in  the  heart  of  young  Martin  the 
ambitious  desire  that  he  himself  might  one  day  be 
a  schoolmaster  or  man  of  learning. 

As  soon  as  tie  was  old  enough  to  receive  instruction, 
his  parents  endeavoured  to  communicate  to  him  the 
knowledge  of  God,  to  train  him  in  His  fear,  and  form 
him  to  the  practice  of  the  Christian  virtues.  They 
applied  the  utmost  care  to  this  earliest  domestic 
education.!  But  their  solicitude  was  not  confined  to 
this  instruction. 

His  father,  desiring  to  see  him  acquire  the  elements 
of  that  learning  for  which  he  had  so  ranch  esteem, 
invoked  upon  him  the  blessing  of  God,  and  sent  him 
to  school.  Martin  was  then  a  little  child.  His  father 
and  Nicholas  Emler,  a  young  man  of  Mansfield,  often 
carried  him  in  their  arms  to  the  house  of  George 
Emilius,  and  came  again  to  fetch  him.  Years  after- 

*  Drumb  musste  dieser  geistliche  Schmelzer (Mathe- 

sius,  1566,  p.  3.) 

t  Ad  agnitionem  et  timorem  Dei domestica  institu- 

tione  diligenter  adsuefeccrunt.  (Melancth.  Vita  Luth.) 


ward,  Emler  married  Luther's  sister.  Fifty  years  later, 
the  Reformer  reminded  the  aged  Nicholas  of  this 
touching  mark  of  affection  received  in  his  childhood, 
and  commemorated  it  on  the  blank  leaves  of  a  book 
presented  to  this  old  friend.* 

The  piety  of  his  parents,  their  active  turn  of  mind 
and  strict  virtue,  gave  to  the  boy  a  happy  impulse,  and 
belped  to  form  in  him  a  habit  of  seriousness  and  appli- 
cation. In  those  days  it  was  the  practice  to  use 
chastisements  and  fear  as  the  main  impulses  in  educa- 
tion. Margaret,  although  she  sometimes  approved  the 
too  great  severity  of  her  husband,  often  opened  her 
maternal  arms  to  Martin,  and  comforted  him  in  his 
ears.  Yet  she  herself  overstepped  the  precept  of  that 
wisdom  which  tells  us  that  he  who  loves  his  child  will 
chastise  him  early.  The  resolute  character  of  the  child 
gave  frequent  occasion  for  correction  and  reprimand. 
"  My  parents,"  said  Luther  in  after  life,  "  treated  me 
cruelly,  so  that  I  became  very  timid  ;  one  day,  for  a 
mere  trifle,  my  mother  whipped  me  till  the  blood  came. 
They  truly  thought  they  were  doing  right ;  but  they 
bad  no  discernment  of  character,  which  is  yet  absolutely 
necessary,  that  we  may  know  when,  on  whom,  and 
tiow,  punishment  should  be  inflicted. "1 

At  school  the  poor  child  was  treated  with  equal  se- 
verity. His  master  flogged  him  fifteen  times  in  one 
day.  "  It  is  right,"  said  Luther,  relating  this  fact,  "  it 
is  right  to  punish  children,  but  at  the  same  time  we 
must  love  them."  With  such  an  education,  Luther 
early  learned  to  despise  the  attractions  of  a  self-indul- 
gent life.  It  is  a  just  remark  of  one  of  his  earliest 
biographers,  that  "  that  which  is  to  become  great  must 
begin  in  small  things ;  and  if  children  are  from  their 
youth  brought  up  with  too  much  daintiness  and  care, 
they  are  injured  for  the  rest  of  their  lives." 

Martin  learned  something  at  school.  He  was  taught 
the  heads  of  the  catechism,  the  ten  commandments, 
the  apostles'  creed,  the  Lord's  prayer,  some  hymns, 
some  forms  of  prayer,  a  Latin  grammar,  composed  iu 
the  fourth  century  by  Donatus,  master  of  St.  Jerome, 
and  which,  improved  by  Rcmigius,  a  French  monk,  in 
the  eleventh  century,  was  for  a  long  while  in  great  re- 
pute in  the  schools  ;  he  also  read  the  Cisio  janus,  a 
singular  calandar,  composed  in  the  tenth  or  eleventh 
century  ;  in  a  word,  all  that  was  studied  in  the  Latin 
school  of  Mansfield. 

But  it  appears  that  the  child  was  not  yet  led  to  God. 
The  only  religious  feeling  that  he  then  manifested  was 
that  of  fear.  Every  time  that  he  heard  Christ  spoken 
of,  he  turned  pale  with  terror ;  for  he  had  been  repre- 
sented to  him  only  as  an  angry  judge.J  This  servile 
fear,  which  is  so  far  removed  from  true  religion,  per- 
haps prepared  his  mind  for  the  good  tidings  of  the  gos- 
pel, and  for  that  joy  which  he  afterward  felt  when  he 
learned  to  know  Christ  as  meek  and  lowly  of  heart. 

John  Luther,  in  conformity  with  his  predilections, 
resolved  to  make  his  son  a  scholar.  That  new  world 
of  light  and  science  which  was  everywhere  producing 
vague  excitement,  reached  even  to  the  cottage  of  the 
miner  of  Mansfield,  and  excited  the  ambition  of  Mar- 
tin's father.  The  remarkable  character,  and  persever- 
ing application  of  his  son,  made  John  conceive  the 
highest  hopes  of  his  success.  Therefore,  when  Martin 
was  fourteen  years  of  age,  in  1497,  his  father  came  to 
the  resolution  of  parting  from  him,  and  sending  him  to 
the  school  of  the  Franciscans  at  Magdeburg.  Margaret 
was  obliged  to  yield  to  this  decision,  and  Martin  made 
preparations  for  leaving  his  paternal  roof. 

Among  the  young  people  of  Mansfield,  there  was 

*  Walthers  Nachrichten. 

t  Sed  non  poterant  discernereingeniasecundum  qu 
temperandae  correctiones.     (L.  Opp.  W.  xxii.,  p.  17S5.) 
|  Mathesius 


40 


HIS  HARDSHIPS— THE  "  SHUNAMITE." 


one  named  John  Reinecke,  the  son  of  a  respectable 
burgher.  Martin  and  John,  who  had  been  schoolfel- 
lows in  early  childhood,  had  contracted  a  friendship 
which  lasted  to  the  end  of  their  lives.  The  two  boys 
set  out  together  for  Magdeburg.  It  was  at  that  place, 
when  separated  from  their  families,  that  they  drew 
closer  the  bonds  of  their  friendship. 

Magdeburg  was  like  a  new  world  to  Martin.  In  the 
midst  of  numerous  privations,  (for  he  had  hardly  enough 
to  subsist  on,)  ho  observed  and  listened.  Andreas 
Proles,  a  provincial  of  the  Augustine  order,  was  then 
preaching  with  great  zeal,  the  necessity  of  reforming 
religion  and  the  Church.  Perhaps  these  discourses 
deposited  in  the  soul  of  the  youth  the  earliest  germ  of 
the  thoughts  which  a  later  period  unfolded. 

This  was  a  severe  apprenticeship  for  Luther.  Cast 
upon  the  world  at  fourteen,  without  friends  or  protec- 
tors, he  trembled  in  the  presence  of  his  masters,  and  in 
his  play  hours,  he  and  some  children,  as  poor  as  him- 
self, with  difficulty  begged  their  bread.  "  I  was  ac- 
customed," says  he,  "  with  my  companions,  to  beg  a 
little  food  to  supply  our  wants.  One  day,  about  Christ- 
mas time,  we  were  going  all  together  through  the 
neighbouring  villages,  from  house  to  house,  singing  in 
concert  the  usual  carols  on  the  infant  Jesus,  born  at 
Bethlehem.  We  stopped  in  front  of  a  peasant's  house 
which  stood  detached  from  the  rest,  at  the  extremity 
of  the  village.  The  peasant  hearing  us  sing  our  Christ- 
mas carols,  came  out  with  some  food,  which  he  meant 
to  give  us,  and  asked,  in  a  rough  loud  voice,  '  Where 
are  you,  boys  1'  Terrified  at  these  words,  we  ran  away 
as  fast  as  we  could.  We  had  no  reason  to  fear,  for 
the  peasant  offered  us  this  assistance  in  kindness  ;  but 
our  hearts  were  no  doubt  become  fearful  from  the  threats 
and  tyranny  which  the  masters  then  used  toward  their 
scholars,  so  that  we  were  seized  with  sudden  fright. 
At  last,  however,  as  the  peasant  still  continued  to  call 
after  ua,  we  stopped,  forgot  our  fears,  ran  to  him,  and 
received  the  food  that  he  offered  us.  It  is  thus,"  adds 
Luther,  "  that  we  tremble  and  flee  when  our  conscience 
is  guilty  and  alarmed.  Then  we  are  afraid  even  of  the 
help  that  is  offered  us,  and  of  those  who  are  our  friends, 
and  wish  to  do  us  good."* 

A  year  had  scarcely  elapsed,  when  John  and  Mar- 
garet, hearing  what  difficulty  their  son  found  in  sup- 
porting himself  at  Magdeburg,  sent  him  to  Eisenach, 
where  there  was  a  celebrated  school,  and  at  which  place 
they  had  relations,  t  They  had  other  children,  and 
though  their  circumstances  were  much  improved,  they 
could  not  maintain  their  son  in  a  city  where  he  was  a 
stranger.  The  unremitting  labours  of  John  Luther 
could  do  no  more  than  support  the  family  at  Mansfield. 
He  hoped  that  when  Martin  got  to  Eisenach  he  would 
find  it  easier  to  earn  his  living.  But  he  was  not  more 
fortunate  there  than  he  had  been  at  Magdeburg.  His 
relations  who  lived  in  the  town  did  not  trouble  them- 
selves about  him,  or  perhaps  they  were  very  poor,  and 
could  not  give  him  any  assistance. 

When  the  young  scholar  was  pressed  with  hunger, 
he  was  obliged,  as  at  Magdeburg,  to  go  with  his  school- 
fellows and  sing  in  the  streets  to  earn  a  morsel  of  bread. 
This  custom  of  Luther's  time  is  still  preserved  in  many 
towns  in  Germany.  These  young  people's  voices 
sometimes  form  a  most  harmonious  concert.  Often 
the  poor  modest  boy,  instead  of  bread,  received  nothing 
but  harsh  words.  More  than  once,  overwhelmed  with 
sorrow,  he  shed  many  tears  in  secret ;  he  could  not 
look  to  the  future  without  trembling. 

One  day  in  particular,  after  having  been  repulsed 
from  three  houses,  he  was  about  to  return  fasting  to  his 

*  Lutheri  Opera,  (Walch.)  ii.  2347. 

t  Isenacum  enim  pene  totam  parentelam  meam  habet.  (L. 
Epp.  L,  p.  390.) 


lodging,  when,  having  reached  the  Place  St.  George, 
he  stood  before  the  house  of  an  honest  burgher,  motion- 
less, and  lost  in  painfnl  reflections.  Must  he,  for  want 
of  bread,  give  up  his  studies,  and  go  to  work  with  his 
father  in  the  mines  of  Mansfield  1  Suddenly  a  door 
opens,  a  woman  appears  on  the  threshold  :  it  is  the 
wife  of  Conrad  Cotta,  a  daughter  of  the  burgomaster 
of  Eilfeld.*  Her  name  was  Ursula.  The  chronicles 
of  Eisenach  call  her  "  the  pious  Shunamite,"  in  remem- 
brance of  her  who  so  earnestly  entreated  the  prophet 
Elijah  to  eat  bread  with  her.  This  Christian  Shuna- 
mite had  more  than  once  remarked  young  Martin  in 
the  assemblies  of  the  faithful  ;  she  had  been  affected 
by  the  sweetness  of  his  voice  and  his  apparent  devo- 
tion, t  She  had  heard  the  harsh  words  with  which  the 
poor  scholar  had  been  repulsed.  She  saw  him  over- 
whelmed with  sorrow  before  her  door  ;  she  came  to  his 
assistance,  beckoned  him  to  enter,  and  supplied  his 
urgent  wants. 

Conrad  approved  his  wife's  benevolence  ;  he  even 
found  so  much  pleasure  in  the  society  of  young  Luther, 
that  a  few  days  afterward,  he  took  him  to  live  in  his 
house.  From  that  moment  he  no  longer  feared  to  be 
obliged  to  relinquish  his  studies.  He  was  not  to  re- 
turn to  Mansfield,  and  bury  the  talent  that  God  had 
committed  to  his  trust !  God  had  opened  the  heart 
and  the  doors  of  a  Christian  family  at  the  very  moment 
when  he  did  not  know  what  would  become  of  him. 
This  event  disposed  his  soul  to  that  confidence  in  God, 
which,  at  a  later  period,  the  severest  trials  could  not 
shake. 

In  the  house  of  Cotta,  Luther  lived  a  very  different 
life  from  that  which  he  had  hitherto  done.  He  enjoy- 
ed a  tranquil  existence,  exempt  from  care  and  want  ; 
his  mind  became  more  calm,  his  disposition  more  cheer- 
ful, his  heart  more  enlarged.  His  whole  nature  was 
awakened  by  the  sweet  beams  of  charity,  and  began 
to  expand  into  life,  joy,  and  happiness.  His  prayers 
were  more  fervent ;  his  thirst  for  learning  became  more 
ardent ;  and  he  made  rapid  progress  in  his  studies. 

To  literature  and  science  he  united  the  study  of  the 
arts ;  for  the  arts  also  were  then  advancing  in  Germany. 
The  men  whom  God  designs  to  influence  their  con- 
temporaries, are  themselves  at  first  influenced  and  led 
by  the  tendencies  of  the  age  in  which  they  live. 
Luther  learned  to  play  on  the  flute  and  on  the  lute. 
He  often  accompanied  his  fine  alto  voice  with  the  latter 
instrument,  and  thus  cheered  his  heart  in  his  hours  of 
sadness.  He  also  took  pleasure  in  expressing  by  his 
melody  his  gratitude  to  his  adoptive  mother,  who  was 
very  fond  of  music.  He  himself  loved  this  art  even  to 
his  old  age,  and  composed  (he  words  and  music  of  some 
of  the  most  beautiful  German  hymns. 

Happy  times  for  the  young  man  !  Luther  always 
looked  back  to  them  with  emotion  !  and  a  son  of  Con- 
rad having  gone  many  years  after  to  study  at  Wittem- 
berg,  when  the  poor  scholar  of  Eisenach  had  become 
the  learned  teacher  of  his  age,  he  joyfully  received  him 
at  his  table  and  under  his  roof.  He  wished  to  repay 
in  part  to  the  son  what  he  had  received  from  the  father 
and  mother. 

It  was  when  memory  reverted  to  the  Christian 
woman  who  had  supplied  him  wi'th  bread,  when  every 
one  else  repulsed  him,  that  he  uttered  this  memorable 
saying :  "  There  is  nothing  sweeter  than  the  heart  of 
a  pious  woman." 

But  never  did  Luther  feel  ashamed  of  the  time,  when, 
pressed  by  hunger,  he  sorrowfully  begged  the  bread 
necessary  for  the  support  of  life  and  the  continuance 
of  his  studies.  So  far  from  this,  he  thought  with 

»  Lingk's  Reisegesch.  Luth. 

t  Dieweil,  sie  urab  seines  Singhem  und  herzlichen  Gebets 
willen.  (Mathesius,  p.  3.) 


RECOLLECTIONS-TREBONIUS— THE  UNIVERSITY. 


on  the  extreme  poverty  of  his  youth.  H 
considered  it  us  one  of  the  means  that  God  had  made 
use  of  to  make  him  what  he  afterward  became,  and  he 
thanked  him  for  it.  The  condition  of  poor  children 
who  were  obliged  to  lead  the  same  kind  of  life,  touchec 
him  to  the  heart.  •"  Do  not  despise,"  said  he,  "  th 
boys  who  try  to  earn  their  bread  by  chaunting  before 
your  door,  '  bread  for  the  love  of  God,'  P&ncm  proplcr 
JDeum.  I  have  done  the  same.  It  is  true,  that  in  later 
years,  my  father  maintained  me  at  the  University  of 
Erfurth,  with  much  love  ami  kindness,  supporting  me 
by  the  sweat  of  his  brow  ;  but  at  one  time  I  was  only 
a  poor  mendicant.  Arid  now  by  means  of  my  pen,  ] 
have  succeeded  so  well,  that  I  wouid  not  change  for- 
tunes with  the  Grand  Seignor  himself.  I  may  say 
more  ;  if  I  were  to  be  offered  all  the  possessions  of  the 
earth  heaped  one  upon  another,  I  would  not  take  them 
in  exchange  for  what  I  possess.  And  yet  I  should 
never  have  known  what  I  do,  if  I  had  not  been  to 
school,  and  been  taught  to  write."  Thus  did  this  great 
man  acknowledge  that  these  humble  beginnings  were 
the  origin  of  his  glory.  He  was  not  afraid  of  reminding 
his  readers,  that  that  voice,  whose  accents  electrified  the 
empire  and  the  world,  had  not  very  long  before  begged 
a  morsel  of  bread  in  the  streets  of  a  petty  town.  The 
Christian  takes  pleasure  in  such  recollections,  because 
they  remind  him  that  it  is  in  God  alone  that  he  is  per- 
mitted to  glory. 

The  strength  of  his  understanding,  the  liveliness  of 
his  imagination,  and  his  excellent  memory,  enabled  him 
in  a  short  time  to  get  the  start  of  all  his  fellow  students.* 
He  made  especially  rapid  progress  in  the  dead  lan- 
guages, in  rhetoric,  and  in  poetry.  He  wrote  sermons, 
and  made  verses.  Cheerful,  obliging,  and  what  is 
called  good-hearted,  he  was  beloved  by  his  masters  and 
his  companions. 

Among  the  professors,  he  was  particularly  attached 
to  John  Trebonius,  a  learned  man,  of  an  agreeable 
address,  and  who  had  that  regard  for  the  young  which 
is  so  encouraging  to  them.  Martin  had  observed,  that 
when  Trebonius  came  into  the  school-room,  he  took  off 
his  hat  and  bowed  to  the  scholars  ;  a  great  condescen- 
sion in  those  pedantic  times.  This  had  pleased  the 
young  man.  He  began  to  perceive  that  he  himself 
was  something.  The  respect  paid  him  by  his  master 
had  raised  the  scholar  in  his  own  estimation.  The 
colleagues  of  Trebonius,  whose  custom  was  different; 
having  one  day  expressed  their  astonishment  at  this 
extreme  condescension,  he  answered  them ;  and  his 
answer  made  an  impression  on  young  Luther.  "  There 
are,"  said  he,  "  among  these  youths,  some  whom  God 
will  one  day  raise  to  the  ranks  of  burgomasters,  chan- 
cellors, doctors,  and  magistrates.  Though  you  do  not 
now  see  the  outward  signs  of  their  respective  dignities, 
it  is  yet  proper  to  treat  them  with  respect."  Doubtless 
the  young  scholar  heard  these  words  with  pleasure,  and 
perhaps  he  then  saw  himself,  in  prospect,  adorned  with 
»  doctor's  cap. 

Luther  had  attained  his  eighteenth  year.  He  had 
tasted  the  sweets  of  learning.  He  thirsted  after  know- 
ledge. He  sighed  for  a  university  education.  He 
longed  to  go  to  one  of  those  fountains  of  all  knowledge, 
where  his  thirst  for  it  might  be  satisfied. t  His  father 
required  him  to  study  the  law.  Full  of  confidence  in 
his  son's  talents,  he  desired  to  see  him  cultivate  them, 
and  make  them  known  in  the  world.  Already,  in  an- 
ticipation, he  beheld  him  filling  honourable  offices 
among  his  fellow-citizens,  gaining  the  favour  of  princes, 
and  shining  on  the  great  stage  of  the  world.  It  was 
*  Curaquc  et  vis  ingenil  accrrima  esset,  et  imprimis  ad  clo- 
quentiara  idonea,  ccleriter  zequalibus  suis  praecurrit. — (Me- 
lancth.  Vita  Luth,) 

t  Degustata  igitur  litterarum  dulcedine,  natura  flagrans  cu- 
piditatc  diicendi  appctit  ac*4emia».  (Mel.  Vit.  Luth.) 


determined  that  the  young  man  should  be   sent  to 
Erfurth. 

Luther  arrived  at  that  university  in  the  year  1501 ; 
Jodocus,  surnamed  the  Doctor  of  Eisenach,  was  then 
teaching  scholastic  philosophy  in  that  place  with  great 
success.  Melancthon  regrets  that  there  was  at  that 
time  nothing  taught  at  Erfurth  but  a  logic  beset  with 
difficulties.  He  expresses  the  opinion,  that  if  Luther 
had  met  with  professors  of  a  different  character,  if  he 
had  been  taught  the  milder  and  more  tranquilising  doc- 
trines of  true  philosophy,  it  might  have  moderated  and 
softened  the  natural  vehemence  of  his  character.*  The 
new  pupil,  however,  began  to  study  the  philosophy  of 
the  times  in  the  writings  of  Occam,  Scotus,  Boriaven- 
tura,  and  Thomas  Aquinas.  In  later  years  he  looked 
upon  this  class  of  writers  with  abhorrence  $  he  trembled 
with  rage  when  even  the  name  of  Aristotle  was  pro- 
nounced in  his  presence ;  and  he  went  so  far  as  to  say, 
that  if  Aristotle  had  not  been  a  man,  he  should  be 
tempted  to  take  him  for  the  devii.  But  his  mind,  eager 
For  instruction,  re'quired  better  food  ;  and  he  applied 
limself  to  the  study  of  the  best  ancient  authors,  Cicero, 
Virgil,  and  others.  He  did  not  satisfy  himself,  like  the 
generality  of  students,  with  learning  by  heart  the  works 
of  these  writers  ;  but  he  endeavoured  especially  to 
athom  their  thoughts,  to  imbibe  the  spirit  by  which 
hey  were  animated,  to  make  their  wisdom  his  own,  to 
comprehend  the  object  they  aimed  at  in  their  writings, 
and  to  enrich  his  understanding  with  their  weighty 
sentences  and  brilliant  descriptions.  He  ofteR  pressed 
lis  tutors  with  inquiries,  and  soon  outstripped  his 
school-fellows. t  Gifted  with  a  retentive  memory,  and 

vivid  imagination,  all  that  he  had  read  or  heard  re- 
mained fixed  on  his  memory  ;  it  was  as  if  he  had  seen 
t  himself.  Thus  did  Luther  distinguish  himself  in  his 
sarly  youth.  "  The  whole  University,"  says  Melanc- 
hon,  "  admired  his  genius."t 

But  even  at  this  early  period  the  young  man  of 
eighteen  did  not  study  merely  with  a  view  of  cultivat- 
ng  his  understanding ;  there  was  within  him  a  serious 
houghtfulness,  a  heart  looking  upward,  which  God 
gives  to  those  whom  he  designs  to  make  his  most 
ealous  servants.  Luther  felt  that  he  depended  entirely 
upon  God — a  simple  and  powerful  conviction,  which  is 
t  once  a  principle  of  deep  humility  and  an  incentive 
o  great  undertakings.  He  fervently  invoked  the  divine 
ilessing  upon  his  labours.  Every  morning  he  began 
he  day  with  prayer ;  then  he  went  to  church ;  after- 
ward he  commenced  his  studies,  and  he  never  lost  a 
moment  in  the  course  of  the  day.  "  To  pray  well," 
ic  was  wont  to  say,  "  was  the  better  half  of  study."$ 

The  young  student  spent  in  the  library  of  the 
iniversity  the  moments  he  could  snatch  from  his 
cademical  labours.  Books  being  then  scarce,  it  was, 
n  his  eyes,  a  great  privilege  to  be  able  to  profit  by  the 
reasures  of  this  vast  collection.  One  day,  (he  had 
)een  then  two  years  at  Erfurth,  and  was  twenty  years 
if  age,)  he  was  opening  the  books  in  the  library,  one 
fter  another,  in  order  to  read  the  names  of  the  authors. 
)ne  which  he  opened  in  its  turn  drew  his  attention, 
le  had  not  seen  anything  like  it  till  that  hour.  Ho 
eads  the  title :  it  is  a  Bible  !  a  rare  book,  unknown  at 
bat  time. II  His  interest  is  strongly  excited ;  he  is 
lied  with  astonishment  at  finding  more  in  this  volume 
tian  those  fragments  of  the  gospels  and  epistles  which 

Et  fortassis  ad  leniendam  vehementiara  natures  mitiora 
tudia  verae  philosophise.  (Ibid.) 

t  Et  quidem  inter  primes,  ut  ingenio  studioque  multos  cose- 
ualium  antecellebat.    (Cochlseus,  Acta  Lutheri,  p.  1.) 
J  Sic  igitur  in  juventute  eminebat  ut  toti  academic  Lutheri 
ngenium  admirationi  esset.     (Vita  Luth.) 
\  Fleissig  gebet,  ist  uber  die  Helftt  studert.     (Mathes.  3.) 
||  Auft'ein  Zeyt,  wie  er  die  Biicher  feiri  nacheinander  besieht 
,  ,  kombt  et  uber  die  lateinische  Biblia (Mathes.  8.) 


42        DISCOVERY— THE  BIBLE— MENTAL  AGITATION— VISIT  TO  MANSFIELD. 


the  Church  has  selected  to  be  read  to  the  people  in 
their  places  of  worship  every  Sunday  in  the  year.  Till 
then  he  had  thought  that  they  were  the  whold  word  of 
God.  And  here  are  so  many  pages,  so  many  chapters, 
so  many  books,  of  which  he  had  no  idea  !  His  heart 
beats  as  he  holds  in  his  hand  all  the  Scripture  divinely 
inspired.  With  eagerness  and  indescribable  feelings, 
he  turns  over  these  leaves  of  God's  word.  The  first 
page  that  arrests  his  attention,  relates  the  history  of 
Hannah,  and  the  young  Samuel.  He  reads,  and  can 
scarcely  restrain  his  joyful  emotion.  This  child,  whom 
his  parents  lend  to  the  Lord  as  long  as  he  liveth  ; 
Hannah's  song,  in  which  she  declares  that  the  Lord 
raiseth  up  the  poor  out  of  the  dust,  and  lifteth  up  the 
beggar  from  the  dunghill,  to  set  him  among  princes  ; 
the  young  Samuel,  who  grows  up  in  the  temple  before 
the  Lord  :  all  this  history,  all  this  revelation  which  he 
has  discovered,  excites  feelings  till  then  unknown. 
He  returns  home  with  a  full  heart.  "  Oh  !"  thought 
he,  "  if  God  would  but  give  me  such  a  book  for  my 
own  !"*  Luther  did  not  yet  understand  either  Greek 
or  Hebrew.  It  is  not  probable  that  he  should  have 
studied  those  languages  during  the  first  two  or  three 
years  of  his  residence  in  the  university.  The  Bible, 
that  had  filled  him  with  such  transport,  was  in  Latin. 
He  soon  returned  to  the  library  to  find  his  treasure 
again.  He  read  and  re-read  ;  and  then,  in  his  surprise 
and  joy,  he  went  back  to  read  again.  The  first  gleams 
of  a  new  truth  then  arose  in  his  mind. 

Thus  has  God  caused  him  to  find  His  word  !  He 
has  now  discovered  that  book,  of  which  he  is  one  day 
to  give  to  his  countrymen  that  admirable  translation  in 
which  the  Germans  for  three  centuries  have  read  the 
oracles  of  God.  For  the  first  time,  perhaps,  this 
precious  volume  has  been  removed  from  the  place 
that  it  occupied  in  the  library  of  Erfurth.  This  book, 
deposited  upon  the  unknown  shelves  of  a  dark  room, 
is  soon  to  become  the  book  of  life  to  a  whole  nation. 
The  Reformation  lay  hid  in  that  Bible. 

It  was  in  this  same  year  that  Luther  took  his  first 
academical  degree,  that  of  a  bachelor. 

The  excessive  labour  he  had  undergone,  in  preparing 
for  his  examination,  occasioned  a  dangerous  illness. 
Death  seemed  at  hand.  Serious  reflections  filled  his 
mind.  He  thought  his  earthly  career  was  at  an  end. 
All  were  interested  about  the  young  man.  "  It  was  a 
pity,"  thought  they,  "  to  see  so  many  hopes  so  early 
extinguished."  Several  friends  came  to  visit  him  on 
his  sick  bed.  Among  them  was  an  old  man,  a  venerable 
priest,  who  had  observed  with  interest  the  labours  and 
academical  life  of  the  student  of  Mansfield.  Luther 
could  riot  conceal  the  thoughts  that  filled  his  mind. 
"  Soon,"  said  he,  "  I  shall  be  summoned  hence."  But 
the  prophetic  old  man  kindly  answered.  "  My  dear 
bachelor,  take  courage !  you  will  not  die  this  time. 
Our  God  will  yet  make  you  his  instrument  in  comforting 
many  others. t  Fo-r  God  lays  his  cross  upon  those 
whom  he  loves,  and  those  who  bear  it  patiently  gain 
much  wisdom."  The  words  impressed  the  sick  youth. 
It  was  as  he  lay  in  the  dust  of  death  that  he  heard  the 
voice  of  a  priest  remind  him,  that  God,  as  Samuel's 
mother  had  said,  raiseth  up  the  poor.  The  old  man 
has  poured  sweet  consolation  into  his  heart,  and 
revived  his  spirits ;  he  will  never  forget  it.  "  This 
was  the  first  prophecy  the  doctor  ever  heard,"  says 
Mathesius,  the  friend  of  Luther,  who  relates  this  cir- 
cumstance, "  and  he  often  recollected  it."  We  may 
easily  comprehend  in  what  sense  Mathesius  calls  this 
speech  a  prophecy. 

*  Avide  percurrit,  ccepitque  optare  ut  olim  talem  librum  et 
ipse  nancisci  posset.  (M.  Adami  Vit.  Luth.,  p.  103.) 

t  Deus  te  virum  faciet  qui  alios  multos  iterum  consolabitur. 
(M.  Adami  Vit.  Luth.,  p.  103.) 


When  Luther  was  restored  to  health  there  was  io 
him  a  something  new.  The  Bible,  his  sickness,  the 
words  of  the  old  priest,  seemed  to  have  called  him  to 
a  new  vocation.  There  was,  however,  as  yet,  no 
settled  purpose  in  his  mind.  He  resumed  his  studies. 
In  1505  he  was  made  master  of  arts,  or  doctor  in 
philosophy.  The  university  of  Erfurth  was  then  the 
most  celebrated  in  all  Germany.  The  others  were  in 
comparison,  but  inferior  schools.  The  ceremony  was 
performed  according  to  custom,  with  much  pomp.  A 
procession  with  torches  came  to  do  honour  to  Luther.* 
The  festival  was  magnificent.  There  was  general 
rejoicing.  Luther,  perhaps,  encouraged  by  these 
honours,  prepared  to  apply  himself  entirely  to  the  study 
of  the  law,  agreeably  to  the  wishes  of  his  father. 

But  God  willed  otherwise.  While  Luther  was 
engaged  in  various  studies,  and  beginning  to  teach 
natural  philosophy  and  the  ethics  of  Aristotle,  with 
other  branches  of  philosophy,  his  conscience  incessantly 
reminded  him  that  religion  was  the  one  thing  needful, 
and  that  his  first  care  should  be  the  salvation  of  his  soul. 
He  had  learned  God's  hatred  of  sin  ;  he  remembered 
the  penalties  that  his  word  denounces  against  the 
sinner  ;  and  he  asked  himself  tremblingly,  if  he  was 
sure  that  he  possessed  the  favour  of  God.  His  con- 
science answered  :  No  !  His  character  was  prompt 
and  decided  ;  he  resolved  to  do  all  that  depended  upon 
himself,  to  ensure  a  well-grounded  hope  of  immortality. 
Two  events  occurred,  one  after  the  other,  to  rouse  his 
soul  and  confirm  his  resolution. 

Among  his  college  friends  there  was  one,  named 
Alexis,  with  whom  he  was  very  intimate.  One  morning 
a  report  was  spread  in  Erfurth  that  Alexis  had  been, 
assassinated.  Luther  hurried  to  the  spot  and  ascer- 
tained the  truth  of  the  report.  This  sudden  loss  of 
his  friend  affected  him,  and  the  question  which  he 
asked  himself :  "  What  would  become  of  me,  if  / 
were  thus  suddenly  called  away  1"  filled  his  mind  with 
the  liveliest  apprehension.! 

It  was  then  the  summer  of  1505.  Luther  availed 
himself  of  the  leisure  afforded  him  by  the  university 
vacation,  to  take  a  journey  to  Mansfield,  to  revisit  the 
beloved  abode  of  his  infancy,  and  to  see  his  affectionate 
parents.  Perhaps,  also,  he  intended  to  open  his  heart 
to  his  father,  to  sound  him  upon  the  plan  that  was 
forming  in  his  mind,  and  obtain  his  permission  to 
engage  in  a  different  vocation.  He  foresaw  all  the 
difficulties  that  awaited  him.  The  idle  life  of  the 
greater  part  of  the  priests  was  particularly  offensive  to 
the  active  miner  of  Mansfield.  The  ecclesiastics  were, 
moreover,  little  esteemed  in  society  :  roost  of  them 
possessed  but  a  scanty  revenue,  and  the  father,  who 
had  made  many  sacrifices  to  keep  his  son  at  the  uni- 
versity, and  saw  him  lecturing  publicly  in  his  twentieth 
year,  in  a  celebrated  school,  was  not  likely  readily  to 
renounce  his  proud  hopes. 

We  are  not  informed  of  what  passed  during  Luther's 
abode  at  Mansfield.  Perhaps  the  decided  wish  of  his 
father  made  him  fear  to  open  his  mind  to  him.  He 
again^left  his  father's  house  for  the  halls  of  the  academy. 
He  was  within  a  short  distance  of  Erfurth  when  he 
was  overtaken  by  a  violent  storm.  The  thunder 
roared  ;  a  thunderbolt  sunk  into  the  ground  by  his  side. 
Luther  threw  himself  on  his  knees.  His  hour  is 
perhaps  come.  Death,  judgment,  eternity,  are  before 
him  in  all  their  terrors,  and  speak  with  a  voice  which 
he  can  no  longer  resist.  "  Encompassed  with  the 
anguish  and  terror  of  death,"  as  he  himself  says,t  he 
makes  a  vow,  if  God  will  deliver  him  from  this  danger, 

*  L.  Opp.  W.  xxii.,  p.  2229. 

t  Interitu  sodalis  sui  contristatus.    (Cochlseus,  p.  1.) 
J  Mit  Erschrecken  und  Angst  des  Todes  umgeben.     (L. 
Epp.  ii.,  101.) 


LUTHER'S  RESOLUTION— HIS  FAREWELL— THE  CONVENT. 


43 


to  Forsake  the  world,  and  devote  himself  to  His  service 
Risen  from  the  earth,  having  still  before  his  eyes  tha 
death  that  must  one  day  overtake  him,  he  examines  him 
self  seriously,  and  inquires  what  he  must  do.*  The 
thoughts  that  formerly  troubled  him  return  with  redou 
blt?d  power.  He  has  endeavoured,  it  is  true,  to  fulfi 
all  his  duties.  But  what  is  the  state  of  his  soul  1 
Can  he,  with  a  polluted  soul,  appear  before  the  tribuna 
of  so  terrible  a  God  1  He  must  become  holy.  He 
now  thirsts  after  holiness  as  he  had  thirsted  after 
knowledge.  But  where  shall  he  find  if?  How  is 
to  be  attained]  The  university  has  furnished  him 
with  the  means  of  satisfying  his  first  wish.  Who  will 
assuage  this  anguish,  this  vehement  desire  that  con- 
sumes him  now  1  To  what  school  of  holiness  can  he 
direct  his  steps  1  He  will  go  into  a  cloister ;  the 
monastic  life  will  ensure  his  salvation.  How  often 
has  he  been  told  of  its  power  to  change  the  heart,  to 
cleanse  the  sinner,  to  make  man  perfect  !  He  will 
enter  into  a  monastic  order.  He  will  there  become 
holy.  He  will  thus  insure  his  eternal  salvation. t 

Such  was  the  event  that  changed  the  vocation  and 
the  whole  destiny  of  Luther.  The  hand  of  God  was 
in  it.  It  was  that  powerful  hand  that  cast  to  the 
ground  the  young  master  of  arts,  the  aspirant  to  the 
bar,  the  intended  jurisconsult,  to  give  an  entirely  new 
direction  to  his  after  life.  Rubianus,  one  of  Luther's 
friends  at  the  university  of  Erfurth,  wrote  to  him  in 
later  times  :  "  Divine  Providence  foresaw  what  you 
would  one  day  become,  when,  on  your  return  from 
your  parents,  the  fire  of  Heaven  struck  you  to  the 
ground,  like  another  Paul,  near  the  city  of  Erfurth, 
and  separating  you  from  us,  led  you  to  enter  the  Au- 
gustine order."  Thus,  similar  circumstances  marked 
the  conversion  of  two  of  the  greatest  instruments  cho- 
sen by  Divine  Providence  to  effect  the  two  greatest 
revolutions  that  have  ever  taken  place  upon  the  earth  : 
Saint  Paul  and  Luther.J 

Luther  re-enters  Erfurth.  His  resolution  is  unal- 
terable. Still  it  is  with  reluctance  that  he  prepares 
to  break  ties  that  are  so  dear  to  him.  He  does  not 
communicate  his  design  to  any  of  his  companions. 
But  one  evening  he  invites  his  college  friends  to  a 
cheerful  and  simple  repast.  Music  once  more  en- 
livens their  social  meeting.  It  is  Luther's  farewell  to 
the  world.  Henceforth  the  companions  of  his  plea- 
sures and  studies  are  to  be  exchanged  for  the  society  of 
monks  ;  cheerful  and  witty  discourse  for  the  silence 
of  the  cloister  ;  merry  voices  for  the  solemn  harmony 
of  the  quiet  chapel.  God  calls  him;  he  must  sacri- 
fice all  things.  Now,  however,  for  the  last  time,  let 
him  give  way  to  the  joys  of  his  youth  !  The  repast 
excites  his  friends.  Luther  himself  encourages  their 
joy.  But  at  the  moment  when  their  gaiety  is  at  its 
height,  ihe  young  man  can  no  longer  repress  the  se- 
rious thoughts  that  occupy  his  mind.  He  speaks. 
He  declares  his  intention  to  his  astonished  friends  ; 
they  endeavour  to  oppose  it ;  but  in  vain.  And  that 
very  night  Luther,  perhaps  dreading  their  importunity, 
quits  his  lodgings.  He  leaves  behind  his  books  and 
furniture,  taking  with  him  only  Virgil  and  Plautus. 
(He  had  not  yet  a  Bible.)  Virgil  and  Plautus  !  an 
epic  poem  and  comedies  !  Singular  picture  of  Lu- 
ther's mind  1  There  were,  in  fact,  in  his  character,  the 

*  Cum  esset  in  campo,  fulminis  ictu  territus.    (Cochlams,  1.) 
t  Occasio  autem  fuit  ingrediendi  illud  vita  genus  quod 
pietati  et  studiis  doctrinaa  de  Deo  existimavit  esse  convenien- 
tins.    (Mel.  Vit.  Luth.) 

|  Some  historians  relate,  that  Alexis  was  killed  by  the 
thunderbolt  that  alarmed  Luther  ;  but  two  contemporaries, 
Mathosius  and  Selneccer  (in  Orat.  de  Luth.)  distinguish  be- 
tween these  two  events  ;  we  may  even  add  to  their  testimo- 
ny that  of  Melancthon,  who  says,  "  Sodalem  nescio  quo  casu 
Laterfectum."  (Vita  Luth.) 


materials  of  a  complete  epic  poem  ;  beauty,  grandeur, 
and  sublimity  ;  but  his  disposition  inclined  to  gaiety, 
wit,  arid  mirth ;  and  more  than  one  ludicrous  trait 
broke  forth  from  the  serious  and  noble  ground-work 
of  his  life. 

Furnished  with  these  two  books,  he  goes  alone  in 
the  darkness  of  the  night  to  the  convent  of  the  her- 
mits of  St.  Augustine.  He  asks  admittance.  The 
door  opens  and  closes  again.  Behold  him  for  ever 
separated  from  his  parents,  from  his  companions  in 
study,  and  from  the  world.  It  was  the  17th  of  August, 
1505.  Luther  was  then  twenty-one  years  and  nine 
months  old. 

At  length  he  is  with  God.  His  soul  is  safe.  He 
is  now  to  obtain  that  holiness  he  so  ardently  desired. 
The  monks,  who  gathered  round  the  young  doctor, 
were  full  of  admiration,  commending  his  decision  and 
renunciation  of  the  world.*  But  Luther  did  not  for- 
get his  friends.  He  wrote  to  them,  bidding  adieu  to 
them  and  to  the  world,  and  the  next  day  he  sent  them, 
these  letters,  together  with  the  clothes  he  had  till 
then  worn,  and  the  ring  he  received,  when  made 
master  of  arts,  which  he  returned  to  the  university, 
that  nothing  might  remind  him  of  the  world  he  had 
renounced. 

His  friends  at  Erfurth  were  struck  with  astonish- 
ment. Must  it  be,  thought  they,  that  such  eminent 
talents  should  be  lost  in  that  monastic  life,  which  is 
but  a  kind  of  burial  alive.t  Full  of  grief,  they  imme- 
diately repaired  to  the  convent,  in  hopes  of  inducing 
Luther  to  retract  so  fatal  a  resolution  ;  but  in  vain. 
The  doors  were  closed  against  them.  A  whole 
month  was  to  elapse  before  any  one  could  be  permit- 
ted to  see  the  new  monk,  or  to  speak  to  him. 

Luther  had  almost  immediately  communicated  to 
riis  parents  the  great  change  that  had  now  taken  place. 
His  father  was  thunderstruck.  He  trembled  for  his 
son,  as  Luther  himself  tells  in  the  dedication  of  his 
book  on  monastic  vows,  addressed  to  his  father.  His 
weakness,  his  youth,  the  strength  of  his  passions, 
made  his  father  fear  that,  after  the  first  moments  of 
enthusiasm  should  have  passed,  the  indolent  life  of  a 
monk  might  either  tempt  the  young  man  to  despair, 
or  occasion  him  to  fall  into  some  grievous  sin.  He 
{new  that  a  monastic  life  had  already  ruined  many. 
Besides,  the  miner  of  Mansfeld  had  formed  other  plans 
or  his  son.  He  had  hoped  that  he  would  contract  a 
rich  and  honorable  marriage.  And  now,  all  his  ambi- 
:ious  projects  were  overthrown  in  one  night  by  this 
'mprudent  step. 

John  wrote  an  angry  letter  to  his  son,  in  which  he 
used  a  tone  of  authority  that  he  had  laid  aside  from 
;he  period  when  his  son  had  been  made  Master  of  Arts, 
tie  withdrew  all  his  favour,  and  declared  him  disinhe- 
rited from  a  father's  love.  In  vain  did  John  Luther's 
riends,  and  doubtless  his  wife,  endeavour  to  soften 
lis  displeasure,  by  saying  :  "  If  you  would  make  a  sa- 
crifice to  God,  let  it  be  the  best  and  dearest  of  your 
)ossessions,  your  son,  your  Isaac."  The  inexorable 
;own-councillor  of  Mansfeld  would  listen  to  nothing. 

After  some  time,  however,  (Luther  tells  us  this  in  a 
sermon  preached  at  Wittemberg,  the  20th  of  January, 
1544,)  the  plague  visited  the  neighbourhood,  and  de- 
mved  John  Luther  of  two  of  his  sons.  Just  then 
here  came  one  who  told  the  father,  who  was  in  deep 
iffliction:  "The  monk  of  Erfurth  is  also  dead."  His 
riends  took  that  opportunity  of  reconciling  the  father 
o  the  young  novice.  "  If  it  should  be  a  false  report," 
said  they,  "at  least  sanctify  your  present  affliction  by 
consenting  that  your  son  should  be  a  monk."  "  Well, 

*  Hujus  mundi  contemptu,  ingressus  est  repente,  multis  ad- 
mirantibus,  monasterium.  .  .  .  (Ccchlaeus,  J.) 
t  In  vita  semimortua. — (Meloh.  Adami  V.  L.  p.  102.) 


44 


THE  CONVENT— HUMILIATIONS— ENDURANCE. 


be  it  so,"  said  John  Luther,  with  a  heart  broken  am 
yet  struggling,  "and  God  grant  he  may  prosper!' 
When  Luther,  at  a  later  period,  reconciled  to  his  fa- 
ther, related  the  event  that  had  induced  him  to  embrace 
a  monastic  life:  "  God  grant,"  replied  the  worthy  mi- 
ner, "  that  you  may  not  have  mistaken  a  delusion  of 
the  devil  for  a  sign  from  heaven."* 

There  was  then  in  Luther  little  of  that  which  made 
him  in  after  life  the  Reformer  of  the  Church.  His 
entering  into  a  convent  is  a  proof  of  this.  It  was  an 
act  in  that  spirit  of  a  past  age  from  which  he  was  to  con- 
tribute to  deliver  the  Church.  He  who  was  about  to 
become  the  teacher  of  the  world,  was  as  yet  only  its 
servile  imitator.  A  new  stone  was  added  to  the  edi- 
fice of  superstition  by  the  very  person  who  was  shortly 
to  overturn  it.  Luther  was  then  looking  for  salvation 
in  himself,  in  works  and  observances ;  he  knew  not 
that  salvation  cometh  of  God  only.  He  sought  to  es- 
tablish his  own  righteousness  and  his  own  glory, — be- 
ing ignorant  of  the  righteousness  and  glory  of  God 
But  what  he  was  then  ignorant  of  he  soon  learned.  It 
was  in  the  cloister  of  Erfurth  that  the  great  change  ef- 
fected which  substituted  in  his  heart  God  and  His  wis- 
dom for  the  world  and  its  traditions,  and  prepared  the 
mighty  revolution  of  which  he  was  the  most  illustrious 
instrument. 

Martin  Luther,  on  entering  the  convent,  changed  his 
name,  and  took  that  of  Augustine.  "  What  can  be 
more  mad  and  impious,"  said  he,  in  relating  this  circum- 
stance, "  than  to  renounce  one's  Christian  name  for  the 
sake  of  a  cowl  1  It  is  thus  the  popes  are  ashamed  of 
their  Christian  names,  and  show  thereby  that  they  are 
deserters  from  Jesus  Christ."t 

The  monks  had  received  him  joyfully.  It  was  no 
small  gratification  to  their  self-love  to  see  the  univer- 
sity forsaken  by  one  of  its  most  eminent  scholars,  for 
a  house  of  their  order.  Nevertheless,  they  treated  him 
harshly,  and  imposed  upon  him  the  meanest  offices. 
They  perhaps  wished  to  humble  the  doctor  of  philoso- 
phy, and  to  teach  him  that  his  learning  did  not  raise 
him  above  his  brethren ;  and  thought,  moreover,  by  this 
method,  to  prevent  his  devoting  himself  to  his  studies, 
from  which  the  convent  would  derive  no  advantage. 
The  former  master  of  arts  was  obliged  to  perform  the 
functions  of  door-keeper,  to  open  and  shut  the  gates, 
to  wind  up  the  clock,  to  sweep  the  church,  to  clean 
the  rooms.t  Then,  when  the  poor  monk,  who  was  at 
once  porter,  sexton,  and  servant  of  the  cloister,  had 
finished  his  work  :  "  Cum  sacco  per  civitatem — With 
your  bag  through  the  town  !"  cried  the  brothers  ;  and, 
loaded  with  his  bread-bag,  he  was  obliged  to  go  through, 
the  streets  of  Erfurth,  begging  from  house  to  house, 
and  perhaps  at  the  doors  of  those  very  persons  who 
had  been  either  his  friends  or  his  inferiors.  But  he 
bore  it  all.  Inclined,  from  his  natural  disposition,  to 
devote  himself  heartily  to  whatever  he  undertook,  it 
was  with  his  whole  soul  that  he  had  become  a  monk. 
Besides,  could  he  wish  to  spare  the  body  1  To  regard 
the  satisfying  of  the  flesh  1  Not  thus  could  he  acquire 
the  humility,  the  holiness,  that  he  had  come  to  seek 
within  the  walls  of  a  cloister  1 

The  poor  monk,  overwhelmed  with  toil,  eagerly 
availed  himself  of  every  moment  he  could  snatch  from 
his  degrading  occupations.  He  sought  to  retire  apart 
from  his  companions,  and  give  himself  up  to  his  be- 
loved studies.  But  the  brethren  soon  perceived  this, 
came  about  him  with  murmurs,  and  forced  him  to  leave 
his  books  :  "  Come,  come  !  it  is  not  by  study,  but  by 

•07.    (L.0Epp.1i.~p."ior.) 

t  On  Genesis,  xxxiv.  3. 

|  Looa  immunda  purgare  coactus  fuit.  (M.  Adami  Tit. 
LutU.  p.  103.) 


begging  bread,  corn,  eggs,  fish,  meat,  and  money,  that 
you  can  benefit  the  cloister."*  And  Luther  submitted, 
put  away  his  books,  and  resumed  his  bag.  Far  from 
repenting  of  the  yoke  he  had  taken  upon  himself,  he 
resolved  to  go  through  with  it.  Then  it  was  that  the 
inflexible  perseverance,  with  which  he  ever  prosecuted 
the  resolutions  he  had  once  formed,  began  to  develop 
itself.  His  patient  endurance  of  this  rough  usage  gave 
a  powerful  energy  to  his  will.  God  was  exercising  him 
first  with  small  trials,  that  he  might  learn  to  stand  firm 
in  great  ones.  Besides,  to  be  able  to  deliver  the  age  in 
which  he  lived  from  the  miserable  superstitions  under 
which  it  groaned,  it  was  necessary  that  he  should  feel 
the  weight  of  them.  To  empty  the  cup,  he  must  drink 
it  to  the  very  dregs. 

This  severe  apprenticeship  did  not,  however,  last  so 
long  as  Luther  might  have  feared.  The  prior  of  the 
convent,  upon  the  intercession  of  the  university  of 
which  Luther  was  a  member,  freed  him  from  the  mean 
offices  the  monks  had  imposed  upon  him.  The  young 
monk  then  resumed  his  studies  with  fresh  zeal.  The 
works  of  the  fathers  of  the  Church,  especially  those 
of  St.  Augustine,  attracted  his  attention.  The  ex- 
position which  this  celebrated  doctor  has  written  upon 
the  Psalms,  and  his  book  concerning  the  letter  and  the 
spirit,  were  his  favourite  reading.  Nothing  struck  him 
so  much  as  the  opinions  of  this  father  upon  the  corrup- 
tion of  man's  will,  and  upon  the  grace  of  God.  He 
felt,  in  his  own  experience,  the  reality  of  that  corrup- 
tion, and  the  necessity  for  that  grace.  The  words  of 
St.  Augustine  found  an  echo  in  his  heart :  if  he  could 
have  belonged  to  any  other  school  than  that  of  Christ, 
it  would  have  undoubtedly  been  that  of  the  doctor  of 
Hippo.  He  almost  knew  by  heart  the  words  of  Peter 
d'Ailly  and  of  Gabriel  Biel.  He  was  struck  with  an 
observation  of  the  former,  that  if  the  Church  had  not 
decided  otherwise,  it  would  have  been  preferable  to 
allow  that  we  really  receive  the  bread  and  wine  in  the 
Holy  sacrament,  and  not  mere  accidents. 

He  also  studied  wUh  attentiqri  Occam  and  Gerson, 
who  had  so  freely  expressed  themselves  concerning  the 
authority  of  the  popes.  To  this  course  of  reading  he 
united  other  exercises.  He  was  heard  publicly  to  un- 
•avel  the  most  complicated  arguments,  and  extricate 
limself  from  labyrinths  whence  others  could  find  no 
outlet.  His  hearers  were  astonished.f 

But  it  was  not  to  gain  the  credit  of  being  a  great 
genius  that  he  entered  a  cloister ;  it  was  to  find  the 
aliments  of  piety  to  God.t  He  regarded  these  pursuits 
only  as  recreations. 

He  loved,  above  all,  to  draw  wisdom  from  the  pure 
pring  of  the  Word  of  God.  He  found  in  the  convent 
.  Bible,  fastened  by  a  chain.  He  had  constant  recourse 
o  this  chained  Bible.  He  understood  but  little  of  the 
Word ;  but  still  it  was  his  most  absorbing  study.  Sowie- 
imes  he  would  meditate  on  a  single  passage  for  a  whole 
lay  ;  another  time  he  learned  by  heart  some  parts  of 
he  prophets ;  but,  above  all,  he  wished  to  acquire,  from 
he  writings  of  the  apostles  and  prophets,  the  kn»w- 
edge  of  God's  will — to  increase  in  reverence  for  His 
name — and  to  nourish  bis  faith  by  the  sure  testimony 
of  the  word.§ 

It  was  apparently  at  this  period,  that  he  began  to 

tudy  the  Scriptures  in  the  originafe,  and,  by  this  means, 

o  lay  the  foundation  of  the  most  perfect  and  useful  of 

us  printed  works — the  translation  of  the  Bible.     He 

made  use  of  the  Hebrew  Lexicon,  by  Reuchlin,  which 

*  Selnecceri  Orat.  de  Lutb. 

t  In  disputationibus  publicis  labyrinthos  allis  inextricablies, 
iserte  multis  admirantibus  explicabat.  (Melancth  Vit.  Luth.) 

}  In  eo  vitae  genere  non  famam  ingenii.  sed  alimenta  pietatis 
uaerebat.  (Melancth  Vit.  Luth.) 

^  Ut  finnis  tcatunoniis  aleret  timorem  et  fidem. 


ASCETIC  LIFE— MENTAL  STRUGGLE. 


45 


had  Just  appeared.  John  Lange,  a  brother  in  the  con- 
vent, who  was  skilled  in  the  Greek  and  Hebrew,  arid 
with  whom  he  always  maintained  an  intimate  acquaint- 
ance, probably  assisted  him  at  the  outset.  He  also 
made  much  use  of  the  learned  comments  of  Nicholas 
Lyra,  who  died  in  1340.  It  was  this  circumstance  that 
made  Pflug  (afterward  bishop  of  Naumburg)  remark  : 
"  Si  Lyra  non  lyrasset,  Lutherus  non  saltasset — If 
Lyra  had  not  played  his  lyre,  Luther  had  never  danced."* 
^-•The  young  monk  applied  himself  to  his  studies  with 
so  much  zeal,  that  often,  for  two  or  three  weeks  to- 
gether, he  would  omit  the  prescribed  prayers.  But  he 
was  soon  alarmed  by  the  thought  that  he  had  trans- 
gressed the  rules  of  his  order.  Then  he  shut  himself 
up  to  redeem  his  negligence  ;  he  set  himself  to  repeat 
conscientiously  all  his  omitted  prayers  without  think- 
ing of  his  necessary  food.  On  one  occasion  he  passed 
seven  weeks  almost  without  sleep. 

Burning  with  the  desire  after  that  holiness  which  he 
had  sought  in  the  cloister,  Luther  gave  himself  up  to 
all  the  rigour  of  an  ascetic  life.  He  endeavoured  to 
crucify  the  flesh  by  fasting,  macerations,  and  watch- 
ings.f  Shut  up  in  his  cell,  as  in  a  prison,  he  was  con- 
tinually struggling  against  the  evil  thoughts  and  inclin- 
ations of  his  heart.  A  little  bread,  a  single  herring, 
were  often  his  only  food.  Indeed,  he  was  constitu- 
tionally abstemious.  So  it  was  that  his  friends  have 
often  seen  him — even  after  he  had  learned  that  heaven 
was  not  to  be  purchased  by  abstinence — content  himself 
with  the  poorest  food,  and  go  four  days  together  without 
eating  or  drinking.t  This  is  stated  on  the  authority 
of  a  credible  witness,  Melancthon  ;  and  we  see  from 
this  how  little  attention  is  due  to  the  fables  which 
ignorance  and  prejudice  have  circulated  as  to  intempe- 
rance in  Luther.  Nothing  was  too  great  a  sacrifice, 
at  the  period  we  speak  of,  for  the  sake  of  becoming 
holy  to  gain  heaven.  Never  did  the  Romish  Church 
contain  a  monk  of  more  piety  ;  never  did  a  cloister 
witness  efforts  more  sincere  and  unwearied  to  purchase 
eternal  happiness. $  When  Luther,  become  a  Re- 
former, declared  that  heaven  could  not  be  thus  pur- 
chased, he  knew  well  what  he  said  :  "  Verily,"  wrote 
he,  to  Duke  George  of  Saxony,  "  I  was  a  devout  monk, 
and  followed  the  rules  of  my  order  so  strictly,  that  I 
cannot  tell  you  all.  If  ever  a  monk  entered  into  hea- 
ven by  his  monkish  merits,  certainly  I  should  have  ob- 
tained an  entrance  there.  All  the  monks  who  knew 
me  will  confirm  this  ;  and  if  it  had  lasted  much  longer, 
I  should  have  become  literally  a  martyr,  through  watch- 
ings,  prayer,  reading,  and  other  labours. "II 

We  approach  the  period  which  made  Luther  a  new 
man  ;  and,  by  discovering  to  him  the  unfathomable  love 
of  God,  created  in  him  the  power  to  declare  it  to  the 
world. 

Luther  did  not  find,  in  the  tranquillity  of  the  cloister 
and  monkish  perfection,  the  peace  he  was  in  quest  of. 
He  wanted  an  assurance  that  he  was  saved.  This  was 
the  great  want  of  his  soul ;  without  it  he  could  not  rest. 
But  the  fears  which  had  shaken  him  in  the  world, 
pursued  him  to  his  cell.  Nay  more,  they  increased 
there,  and  the  least  cry  of  his  conscience  seemed  to 
resound  beneath  the  vaulted  roofs  of  the  cloister.  God 
had  led  him  thither,  that  he  might  learn  to  know  him- 
self, and  to  despair  of  his  own  strength  or  virtues. 

*  Gesch.  d.  deutsch.    Bibelubersetzung. 

t  Summa  discipline  severitate  se  ipse  regit,  et  omnibus  ex- 
ercitiis  lectionum,  disputation  um,  jejuniorum,  precum,  omnes 
longe  superat.  (Melancth.  Vita  Luth.) 

\  Erat  enim  naturd  valde  modici  cibi  et  potus  ;  vidi  contin- 
uis  quatuor  dicbus,  cum  quidem  rectc  valeret,  prorsus  nib.il 
edentem  aut  bihcntem.  (Melancth.  Vita  Luth.) 

§  Strenue  in  studiis  et  exercitiis  spiritualibus  militavit  ile 
Deo  annis  quatuor.  (Cochlaeus,  1) 

U  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xix.  2299. 


His  conscience,  enlightened  by  the  Divine  Word,  taught 
him  what  it  was  to  be  holy  ;  but  he  was  filled  with 
terror  at  finding,  neither  in  his  heart  nor  in  his  life,  the 
transcript  of  that  holiness  which  he  contemplated  with 
wonder  in  the  Word  of  God.  Melancholy  discovery  ! 
and  one  that  is  made  by  every  sincere  man.  No 
righteousness  within  ;  no  righteousness  in  outward 
action  :  everywhere  omission  of  duty— sin,  pollution. 
The  more  ardent  Luther's  natural  character,  the  more 
powerful  was  this  secret  and  constant  resistance  of  his 
nature  to  that  which  is  good,  and  the  deeper  did  it 
plunge  him  into  despair. 

The  monks  and  theologians  encouraged  him  to  do 
good  works,  and  in  that  way  satisfy  the  divine  justice. 
"  But  what  works,"  thought  he,  "can  proceed  out  of 
a  heart  like  mine  ?  How  can  I,  with  works  polluted 
even  in  their  source  and  motive,  stand  before  a  Holy 
Judge  1"  "  I  was,  in  the  sight  of  God,  a  great  sinner," 
says  he  ;  "  and  I  could  not  think  it  possible  for  me  to 
appease  him  with  my  merits." 

He  was  agitated  and  dejected ;  shunning  the  trivial 
and  dull  discourse  of  the  monks.  The  latter,  unable 
to  comprehend  the  tempestuous  heavings  of  his  soul, 
watched  him  with  astonishment,*  while  they  complain- 
ed of  his  silent  and  unsocial  manners.  One  day,  Coch- 
laeus tells  us,  while  mass  was  performing  in  the  chapel, 
Luther's  abstraction  led  him  thither,  and  he  found 
himself  in  the  choir  in  the  midst  of  the  monks,  dejected 
and  in  anguish  of  mind.  The  priest  had  bowed  before 
the  altar — the  incense  was  offered,  the  Gloria  chaunted, 
and  the  gospel  was  being  read,  when  the  unhappy  monk, 
unable  to  suppress  his  mental  torment,  exclaimed, 
falling  upon  his  knees,  "  It  is  not  I — it  is  not  I."t 
The  monks  were  all  amazement,  and  the  solemnity 
was  for  an  instant  interrupted.  Luther  may,  perhaps, 
have  thought  he  heard  some  reproach  of  which  he  knew 
himself  guiltless  ;  or  he  may  have  meant,  at  the  mo- 
ment, to  declare  himself  undeserving  of  being  of  the 
number  of  those  to  whom  Christ's  death  had  brought 
eternal  life.  Acccording  to  Cochlaeus,  the  gospel  of 
the  day  was  the  account  of  the  dumb  man  out  of  whom 
Jesus  cast  a  devil.  Possibly  Luther's  exclamation  (if 
the  story  be  true,)  had  reference  to  this  fact,  and  that 
resembling  the  daemoniac,  in  being  like  him  speechless, 
he  by  his  cry  protested  that  his  silence  was  owing  to  a 
different  cause  from  dsemoniacal  possession.  Indeed, 
Cochlaeus  tells  us,  that  the  monks  did  sometimes  ascribe 
the  mental  distresses  of  their  brother  to  a  secret  inter- 
course with  the  devil,  and  that  writer  appears  himself 
to  have  shared  in  the  opinion. t 

A  tender  conscience  led  him  to  regard  the  least  sin 
as  a  great  crime.  No  sooner  had  he  detected  it,  than 
he  laboured  to  expiate  it  by  the  strictest  self-denial ; 
and  that  served  only  to  make  him  feel  the  inutility  of 
all  human  remedies.  "  I  tormented  myself  to  death," 
says  he,  "  to  procure  for  my  troubled  heart  and  agitated 
conscience  peace  in  the  presence  of  God  :  but  encom- 
passed with  thick  darkness,  I  nowhere  found  peace." 

All  the  practices  of  monkish  holiness,  which  quieted 
so  many  drowsy  consciences  around  him,  and  to  which 
in  his  agony  of  mind  he  had  recourse,  soon  evinced 
themselves  to  be  useless  prescriptions  of  an  empirical 
quackery  in  religion.  "  When  during  the  time  I  was 
a  monk,  I  felt  temptations  assail  me,  I  am  a  lost  man, 
thought  I.  Immediately  I  resorted  to  a  thousand 

fessed  every  day.  But  all  that  was  of  no  use.  Then, 
overwhelmed  with  dejection,  I  distressed  myself  by  the 

*  Visus  est  fratribus  non  nihil  singularitatis  habere.  (Coch- 
iaeus,  1.) 

t  Cum repente  ceciderit  vociferans :  Non  sum  !  non 

sum  !  (Cochlaeus,  1.) 

\  Ex  occulto  aliquo  cum  sermone  cominario.    (Ib.) 


46 


MENTAL  STRUGGLE— MONASTIC  TENDENCIES -STAUPITZ. 


multitude  of  my  thoughts.  See,  said  I  to  myself,  thou 
art  envious,  impatient,  passionate  ;  therefore,  wretch 
that  thou  art !  it  is  of  no  use  to  thee  to  have  entered 
into  this  holy  order." 

And  yet  Luther,  imbued  with  the  prejudices  of  the 
age,  had  from  his  youth  deemed  the  remedies  of  which 
he  now  experienced  the  inefficacy,  the  certain  cure  of 
a  sick  soul.  What  was  to  be  thought  of  this  strange 
discovery  which  he  had  just  made  in  the  solitude  of  his 
cloister  1  One  may  then  live  in  the  sanctuary,  and  yet 
carry  within  a  man  of  sin.  He  has  obtained  another 
garment,  but  not  another  heart ;  his  hopes  are  disap- 
pointed ;  where  shall  he  turn  1  All  these  rules  and 
observances,  can  they  be  mere  inventions  1  Such  a 
supposition  appeared  to  him  one  moment  as  a  tempta- 
tion of  the  devil— and  the  next,  an  irresistible  truth. 
Struggling  either  against  the  holy  voice  which  spoke  in 
his  heart,  or  against  the  venerable  institutions  which 
had  the  sanction  of  ages,  Luther's  existence  was  a  con- 
tinued conflict.  The  young  monk  moved,  like  a  spectre, 
through  the  long  corridors  of  the  cloisters  with  sighs 
and  groans.  His  bodily  powers  failed,  his  strength 
forsook  him  ;  sometimes  he  was  motionless,  as  if  dead.* 

One  day,  overcome  with  sadness,  he  shut  himself  in 
his  cell,  and  for  several  days  and  nights  suffered  no  one 
to  approach  him.  One  of  his  friends,  Lucas  Edember- 
ger,  uneasy  about  the  unhappy  monk,  and  having  some 
presentiment  of  his  state,  took  with  him  some  young 
boys,  choral  singers,  and  went  and  knocked  at  the  door 
of  his  cell.  No  one  opened  or  answered.  The  good 
Edemberger,  still  more  alarmed,  broke  open  the  door, 
and  discovered  Luther  stretched  on  the  floor  in  uncon- 
sciousness, and  without  any  sign  of  life.  His  friend 
tried  in  vain  to  recall  his  senses,  but  he  continued 
motionless.  Then  the  young  choristers  began  to  sing 
a  sweet  hymn.  Their  clear  voices  acted  like  a  charm 
on  the  poor  monk,  to  whom  music  had  always  been  a 
source  of  delight,  and  by  slow  degrees  his  strength  and 
consciousness  returned.!  But  if  for  a  few  instants 
music  could  restore  to  him  a  degree  of  serenity,  another 
and  more  powerful  remedy  was  needed  for  the  cure  of 
his  malady  ;  there  was  needed  that  sweet  and  penetra- 
ting sound  of  the  Gospel,  which  is  the  voice  of  God. 
He  felt  this  to  be  his  want.  Accordingly  his  sufferings 
and  fears  impelled  him  to  study  with  unwearied  zeal 
the  writings  of  the  Apostles  and  Prophets.  J 

Luther  was  not  the  first  monk  who  had  passed 
through  these  conflicts.  The  cloisters  often  enveloped 
in  their  dark  walls  abominable  vices,  which,  if  they  had 
been  revealed,  would  have  made  an  upright  mind 
shudder  ;  but  often  also  they  concealed  Christian  vir- 
tues, which  grew  up  beneath  the  shelter  of  a  salutary 
retirement ;  and  which,  if  they  had  been  brought  forth 
to  view,  would  have  been  the  admiration  of  the  world. 
They  who  possessed  these  virtues,  living  only  with 
each  other  and  with  God,  drew  no  attention  from 
without,  and  were  often  unknown  even  to  the  small 
convent  in  which  they  were  enclosed  ;  their  life  was 
known  only  to  God.  At  times  these  humble  recluses 
fell  into  that  mystic  theology,  the  melancholy  failing  of 
the  noblest  minds,  which  in  an  earlier  age  had  been  the 
delight  of  the  first  monks  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  and 
which  wears  out  unprofitably  the  souls  in  which  it 
reigns. 

But  whenever  one  of  these  men  was  called  to  fill  a 
distinguished  post,  he  manifested  virtues  of  which  the 
salutary  effects  were  long  and  widely  felt.  The  candle 

*  Saepe  eum  cogitantem  attentius  de  ira  Dei,  aut  de  miran 
dls  pocnarum  exemplis,  subito  tanti  terrores  concutiebant,  ut 
pene  exanimaretur.  (Melancth.  Vita  Luth.) 

f  Seckend.  p.  63. 

\  Hoc  studium  ut  magis  expecteret,  illis  suis  doloribus  e 
pavoribus  movcbatar.  (Melancth.  Vita  Luth.) 


eing  placed  on  the  candlestick,  gave  light  to  all  the 
louse ;  many  were  awakened  bv  this  light.  Thus  it 
was  that  these  pious  souls  were  propagated  from 
jeneration  to  generation  :  and  they  were  shining  like 
distant  torches  in  the  very  periods  when  the  cloisters 
were  often  only  the  impure  receptacles  of  darkness. 

There  was  a  young  man  who  had  thus  distinguished 
imself  in  one  of  the  convents  in  Germany.  His  name 
was  John  Staupitz  ;  he  was  descended  from  a  nohle 
amily  in  Misnia.  From  early  youth  he  had  been 
marked  by  a  taste  for  letters  and  a  love  of  virtue.* 
ie  felt  the  necessity  of  retirement,  that  he  might 
devote  himself  to  learning.  But  he  soon  found  that 
)hilosophy,  and  the  study  of  nature,  could  do  nothing 
or  our  eternal  salvation. 

He,  therefore,  began  to  study  divinity.  But  he 
especially  endeavoured  to  join  obedience  with  know- 
edge.  "For,"  says  one  of  his  biographers,  "  it  is  m 
ain  to  call  ourselves  divines,  if  we  do  not  confirm  that 
loble  title  by  our  lives."  The  study  of  the  Bible  and 
>f  St.  Augustine,  the  knowledge  of  himself,  the  war  he, 
ike  Luther,  had  to  wage  with  the  deceitfulness  and 
usts  of  his  own  heart — led  him  to  the  Saviour.  He 
bund  in  faith  in  Christ,  peace  to  his  soul.  The 
doctrine  of  the  Election  by  Grace  especially  engaged 
u's  thoughts.  The  uprightness  of  his  life,  the  depth 
of  his  learning,  the  eloquence  of  his  speech,  no  lees 
han  a  striking  exterior  and  dignified  manners,!  recom- 
mended him  to  his  contemporaries.  The  Elector  of 
Saxony,  Frederic  the  Wise,  honoured  him  with  his 
riendship,  employed  him  in  several  embassies,  and 
"ounded  under  his  direction  the  University  of  WiUem- 
berg.  Staupitz  was  the  first  professor  of  divinity  in 
hat  school,  from  whence  the  light  was  one  day  to  issue 
,o  enlighten  the  schools  and  churches  of  so  many 
nations.  He  was  present  at  the  Council  of  Lateran, 
in  place  of  the  archbishop  of  Salzburg,  became  provin- 
cial of  his  order  in  Thuringia  and  Saxony,  and  after- 
ward Vicar-general  of  the  Augustines  for  all  Germany. 

Staupitz  deeply  lamented  the  corruption  of  morals 
and  the  errors  of  doctrine  which  then  devastated  the 
Church.  His  writings  on  "  the  love  of  God,"  "  on 
Christian  faith,"  and  "  conformity  with  the  death  of 
Christ,"  as  well  as  the  testimony  of  Luther,  give 
proof  of  this.  But  he  considered  the  first  of  these  two 
evils  as  much  greater  than  the  latter.  Besides,  the 
gentleness  and  indecision  of  his  character,  his  desire 
not  to  go  beyond  the  sphere  of  action  which  he  thought 
assigned  to  him,  made  him  more  fit  to  be  the  restorer 
of  a  convent  than  the  Reformer  of  the  Church.  He 
would  have  wished  to  raise  none  but  men  of  distin- 
guished characters  to  offices  of  importance,  but  not 
finding  them,  he  submitted  to  the  necessity  of  employing 
others.  "  We  must,"  said  he,  "  plough  with  such 
tiorses  as  we  can  find  ;  and  if  we  cannot  find  horses, 
we  must  plough  with  oxen."{ 

We  have  seen  the  anguish  and  internal  struggles 
which  Luther  underwent  in  the  convent  of  Erfurth. 
At  this  period  the  visit  of  the  vicar-general  was 
announced.  Staupitz,  in  fact,  arrived  in  his  usual 
visitation  of  inspection.  The  friend  of  Frederic,  the 
founder  of  the  University  of  Wittemberg,  the  chief  of 
the  Augustines.  cast  a  benevolent  look  upon  those 
monks  who  were  subject  to  his  authority.  Soon  one 
of  the  brothers  attracted  his  notice.  He  was  a  young 
man  of  middle  stature,  reduced  by  study,  fasting,  and 
watching,  so  that  you  might  count  his  bones. §  His 
eyes,  which  were  afterward  compared  to  a  falcon's, 

*  A  teneris  unguiculis  generoso  animi  impetu  ad  virtntem 
et  eruditam  doctrinam  contendit.  (Melch.  Adam.  Vita 
Staupizii.) 

t  Corporis  forma  atque  statura  conspicuus.     (Cochl.  3.) 
$  L.  Opp.  (W.)  v.  2189.  ^  P.  Mossellani  Epist 


STAUPITZ  AND  LUTHER— PRESENT  OF  A  BIBLE. 


47 


were  sunk  ;  his  demeanour  was  dejected  ;  his  counte- 
nance expressed  a  soul  agitated  with  severe  conflicts, 
but  yet  strong  and  capable  of  endurance.  There  was 
in  his  whole  appearance  something  grave,  melancholy, 
and  solemn.  Staupitz,  who  had  acquired  discernment 
by  long  experience,  easily  discerned  what  was  passing 
in  that  mind,  and  at  once  distinguished  the  young  monk 
from  all  his  companions.  He  felt  drawn  toward  him, 
had  a  kind  of  presentiment  of  his  singular  destiny,  and 
soon  experienced  for  his  inferior  a  paternal  interest. 
He,  like  Luther,  had  been  called  to  struggle  ;  he  could, 
therefore,  understand  his  feelings.  He  could,  above 
all,  show  him  the  path  to  that  peace  which  he  had 
himself  found.  What  he  was  told  of  the  circumstances 
that  had  induced  the  young  Augustine  to  enter  the 
convent,  increased  his  sympathy.  He  enjoined  the 
prior  to  treat  him  with  more  mildness.  He  availed 
himself  of  the  opportunities  his  office  afforded  for 
gaining  the  confidence  of  the  young  monk.  He 
approached  him  affectionately,  and  endeavoured  in 
every  way  to  overcome  the  timidity  of  the  novice — a 
timidity  increased  by  the  respect  and  fear  that  he  felt 
for  a  person  of  rank  so  exalted  as  that  of  Staupitz. 

The  heart  of  Luther,  which  had  remained  closed 
under  harsh  treatment,  at  last  opened  and  expanded 
to  the  sweet  beams  of  lore.  "  As  in  water,  face 
answereth  to  face,  so  the  heart  of  man  to  man." 
(Prov.  27  :  9.)  Staupitz's  heart  responded  to  that  of 
Luther.  The  vicar-general  understood  him.  The 
monk  felt  toward  him  a  confidence  till  then  unknown. 
He  opened  to  him  the  cause  of  his  sadness,  he  described 
the  horrid  thoughts  that  distressed  him,  and  hence 
ensued,  in  the  cloister  of  Erfurth,  conversations  full 
of  wisdom  and  instruciion. 

"  It  is  in  vain,"  said  the  dejected  Luther  to  Staupitz, 
"  that  I  make  promises  to  God  ;  sin  is  always  too 
strong  for  me." 

"Oh,  my  friend,"  answered  the  vicar-general,  looking 
back  on  his  own  experience,  "  I  have  vowed  to  the 
holy  God  more  than  a  thousand  times  that  I  would  live 
a  holy  life,  and  never  have  I  kept  my  vow  !  I  now 
make  no  more  vows,  for  I  know  well  1  shall  not  keep 
them.  If  God  will  not  be  merciful  to  me  for  Christ's 
sake,  and  grant  me  a  happy  death  when  I  leave  this 
world,  I  cannot,  with  all  my  vows  and  good  works, 
stand  before  him.  I  must  perish."* 

The  young  monk  is  terrified  at  the  thought  of  divine 
justice.  He  confesses  all  his  fears.  The  unspeak- 
able holiness  of  God — his  sovereign  majesty  fill  him 
with  awe.  Who  can  endure  the  day  of  his  coming  1 
Who  can  stand  when  He  appeareth1?  -• 

Staupitz  resumed.  He  knew  where  he  had  found 
peace,  and  it  was  in  his  heart  to  tell  the  young  man. 
*'  Why,"  said  he,  "  do  you  distress  yourself  with  these 
speculations  and  high  thoughts  1  Look  to  the  wounds 
of  Jesus  Christ,  to  the  blood  which  he  has  shed  for 
you  ;  it  is  there  you  will  see  the  mercy  of  God. 
Instead  of  torturing  yourself  for  your  faults,  cast 
yourself  into  the  arms  of  the  Redeemer.  Trust  in 
him — in  the  righteousness  of  his  life,  in  the  expiatory 
sacrifice  of  his  death.  Do  not  shrink  from  him ;  God 
is  not  against  you  ;  it  is  you  who  are  estranged  and 
averse  from  God.  Listen  to  the  Son  of  God.  He 
became  man  to  assure  you  of  the  divine  favour.  He 
says  to  you,  «  You  are  my  sheep  ;  you  hear  my  voice  ; 
none  shall  pluck  you  out  of  my  hand.'  "f 

But  Luther  could  not  find  in  himself  the  repentance 
he  thought  necessary  to  his  salvation  ;  he  answered, 
(and  it  is  the  usual  answer  of  distressed  and  timid 
minds,)  "  How  can  I  dare  believe  in  the  favour  of 
God,  so  long  as  there  is  no  real  conversion  1  I  must 
be  changed  before  He  can  receive  me." 

L.  Opp.  (W.)  viii.  2725.  f  L.  Opp.  (W.)  ii.  264] 


His  venerable  guide  proves  to  him  that  there  can  be 
no  real  conversion,  so  long  as  man  fears  God  as  a 
severe  judge.  "  What  will  you  say,  then,"  cries 
Luther,  "  to  so  many  consciences,  to  whom  are 
prescribed  a  thousand  insupportable  penances  in  order 
to  gain  heaven  1" 

Then  he  hears  this  answer  from  the  vicar-general ; 
or  rather,  he  does  not  believe  that  it  comes  from  a  man  ; 
it  seems  to  him  a  voice  resounding  from  heaven.* 
"  There  is,"  said  Staupitz,  "  no  true  repentance  but 
that  which  begins  in  the  love  of  God  and  of  righte- 
ousness.! That  which  some  fancy  to  be  the  end  of 
repentance  is  only  its  beginning.  In  order  to  be  filled 
with  the  love  of  that  which  is  good,  you  must  first  be 
filled  with  the  love  of  God.  If  you  wish  to  be  really 
converted,  do  not  follow  these  mortifications  and 
penances.  Love  him  who  has  first  loved  you. 

Luther  listens  and  listens  again.  These  consolations 
fill  him  with  a  joy  before  unknown,  and  impart  to  him 
new  light.  "  It  is  Jesus  Christ,"  thinks  he  in  his  heart ; 
"yes,  it  is  Jesus  Christ  himself  who  comforts  me  so 
wonderfully  by  these  sweet  and  salutary  words. "J 

These  words,  indeed,  penetrated  the  heart  of  the 
young  monk  like  a  sharp  arrow  from  the  bow  of  a  strong 
man.§  In  order  to  repentance,  we  must  love  God  ! 
Guided  by  this  new  light,  he  consulted  the  Scriptures. 
He  looked  to  all  the  passages  whidfe1  speak  of  repent- 
ance and  conversion.  These  words,  so  dreaded  hither- 
to, (to  use  his  own  expressions,)  become  to  him  an 
agreeable  pastime  and  the  sweetest  refreshment.  All 
the  passages  of  Scripture  which  once  alarmed  him, 
seemed  now  to  run  to  him  from  all  sides,  to  smile,  to 
spring  up,  and  play  around  him.H 

"  Before,"  he  exclaims,  "though  I  carefully  dissem- 
bled with  God  as  to  the  state  of  my  heart,  and  though 
I  tried  to  express  a  love  for  him,  which  was  only  a 
constraint  and  a  mere  fiction,  there  was  no  word  in  the 
Scripture  more  bitter  to  me  than  that  of  repentance. 
But  now  there  is  not  one  more  sweet  and  pleasant  to 
me.1T  Oh  !  how  blessed  are  all  God's  precepts,  when 
we  read  them  not  in  books  alone,  but  in  the  precious 
wounds  of  the  Saviour."** 

However,  Luther,  though  comforted  by  the  words 
of  Staupitz,  sometimes  relapsed  into  depression.  Sin 
was  again  felt  in  his  timid  conscience,  and  then,  to  the 
joy  of  salvation,  succeeded  all  his  former  despair.  "  Oh, 
my  sin  !  my  sin !  my  sin  !"  cried  the  young  monk, 
one  day  in  the  presence  of  the  vicar-general,  and  in  a 
tone  of  the  bitterest  grief.  "  Well,  would  you  be  only 
the  semblance  of  a  sinner,"  replied  the  latter,  "  and 
have  only  the  semblance  of  a  SAVIOUR  1"  And  then 
Staupitz  added,  with  authority  :  "  Know  that  Jesus . 
Christ  is  the  Saviour  of  those  even  who  are  real  and 
great  sinners,  and  deserving  of  utter  condemnation." 

It  was  not  only  the  sin  that  he  found  in  his  heart 
that  troubled  Luther :  to  the  doubts  of  his  conscience 
were  added  those  of  his  reason.  If  the  holy  precepts 
of  the  Bible  distressed  him,  some  of  the  doctrines  of 
the  divine  word  increased  his  distress.  The  truth, 
which  is  the  great  instrument  by  means  of  which  God 

*  Te  velut  e  ccelo  sonantem  accepimus.  (L.  Epp.  i.  115,  ad 
Staupitium,  30  Mali,  1518.) 

t  Posnitentia  vero  non  est,  nisi  qu»  ab  amore  justitiae  et  Dei 
incipit,  &c.  (Ibid.) 

I  Memini  inter  jucundissimas  et  salutares  fabulas  tuas,  qui- 
bus  me  solet  Dominus  Jesus  mirifice  consolari.  (Ibid.) 

§  Haesit  hoc  verbum  tuum  in  me,  sicut  sagitta  potentis  acuta, 
(Ibid.) 

||  Ecce  jucundissimum  ludum  ;  verba  undique  mihi  collu- 
debant  planeque  huic  sententiae  arridebant  et  assultabant.  (L. 
Epp.  i.  115,  ad  Staupitium,  30  Maii,  1518.) 

tf  Nunc  nihil  dulcius  aut  gratius  mihi  sonat  quam  poeniten- 
ia,  &c.  (Ibid.) 

**  Ita  enim  dulcescunt  praecepta  Dei,  quando  non  in  libris 
tantum,  sed  in  vulneribus  dulcissimi  Salvatoris  legenda  in- 
elligimus.  (Ibid.) 


PRESENT  OF  A  BIBLE— THE  AGED  MONK—THE  CHANGE. 


gives  peace  to  man,  must  necessarily  begin  by  taking 
from  him  that  false  confidence  which  is  his  ruin.  The 
doctrine  of  election  especially  troubled  the  young  manr 
and  launched  him  into  a  field  difficult  indeed  to  explore. 
Must  he  believe  that  it  was  man  who  first  chose  God  for 
bis  portion  1  or  that  it  was  God  who  first  chose  roan  1 
The  Bible,  history,  daily  experience,  the  writings  of 
Augustine,  all  had  shown  him  that  we  must  always  and 
in  everything  refer  in  the  last  case  to  that  sovereign 
will  by  which  everything  exists,  and  upon  which  every- 
thing depends.  But  his  ardent  mind  desired  to  go 
farther.  He  wished  to  penetrate  into  the  secret  coun- 
sels of  God,  to  unveil  his  mysteries,  to  see  the  invisi- 
ble, and  comprehend  the  incomprehensible.  .  Staupitz 
checked  him.  He  persuaded  him  not  to  attempt  to 
fathom  Godr  who  hideth  himself ;  but  to  confine  him- 
self to  what  lie  has  revealed  of  his  character  in  Christ, 
"  Look  at  the  wounds  of  Christ,"  said  her  **  and  you 
will  there  see  shining  clearly  the  purpose  of  God  to- 
ward men.  We  cannot  understand  God  out  of  Christ. 
*  In  Christ  you  will  see  what  I  am  and  what  I  require/ 
hath  the  Lord  said ;  '  you  will  not  see  it  elsewherer 
either  in  heaven  or  on  earth.' r'* 

The  vicar-general  did  yet  more.  He  brought  Luther 
to  acknowledge  the  fatherly  design  of  God's  providence 
in  permitting  these  temptations  and  varied  struggles 
with  which  his  suQjl  had  to  contend.  He  made  him  see 
them  in  a  light  well  suited  to  revive  his,  spirit.  God 
prepares  for  himself  by  such  trials  the  souls  which  he 
destines  to  some  important  work.  We  roust  prove  the 
vessel  before  we  launch  it  on  the  mighty  deep.  If 
education  is  necessary  for  every  man,  there  is  a  par- 
ticular education  necessary  for  those  who  are  to  in- 
fluence the  generation  in  which  they  live.  This  is  what 
Staupitz  represented  to  the  monk  of  Erfurth.  "  It  is 
not  for  nothing,"  said  he,  "  that  God  proves  you  by  so 
many  trials ;  hovfever,  you  will  see,,  there  are  great 
things  in  which  be  will  make  use  of  you  as  his  minis- 
ter." 

These  words,  which  Luther  heard  with  wonder  and 
humility,  filled  him  with  courage,  and  discovered  to 
him,  in  himself,  powers  which  he  had  not  even  suspect- 
ed. The  wisdom  and  prudence  of  an  enlightened 
friend  gradually  revealed  the  strong  man  to  himself. 
Staupitz  did  not  stop  there.  He  gave  him  valuable 
directions  for  his  studies.  He  advised  him  to  derive 
henceforth  all  his  divinity  from  the  Bible,  laying  aside 
the  systems  of  the  schools.  "  Let  the  study  of  the 
Scriptures,"  said  he,  "  be  your  favourite  occupation." 
Never  was  better  advice,  or  better  followed.  But  what 
especially  delighted  Luther,  was  the  present  that  Stau- 
pitz made  him  of  a  Bible.  At  last  he  himself  pos- 
sessed that  treasure  which,  until  that  hour,  he  had  been 
obliged  to  seek  either  in  the  library  of  the  University, 
or  at  the  chain  in  the  convent,  or  in  the  cell  of  a  friend. 
From  that  time  he  studied  the  Scriptures,  and  especial- 
ly St.  Paul's  Epistles,  with  increasing  zeal.  His  only 
other  reading  was  the  works  of  St.  Augustine.  All 
that  he  read  was  powerfully  impressed  upon  his  mind. 
His  struggles  had  prepared  him  to  understand  the  work. 
The  soil  had  been  deeply  ploughed  ;  the  incorruptible 
seed  took  deep  root.  When  Staupitz  left  Erfurth,  a 
new  light  had  arisen  upon  Luther. 

Still  the  work  was  not  finished.  The  vicar-general 
had  prepared  it.  God  reserved  the  completion  of  it  for 
a  more  humble  instrument.  The  conscience  of  the 
young  Augustine  had  not  yet  found  repose.  His  health 
at  last  sunk  under  the  exertions  and  stretch  of  his  mind. 
He  was  attacked  with  a  malady  that  brought  him  to  the 
gates  of  the  grave.  It  was  then  the  second  year  of  his 
abode  at  the  convent.  All  his  anguish  and  terrors  re- 
urned  in  the  prospect  of  death.  His  own  impurity 
*  L.  Opp.  (V7.)  xxii.  p.  489. 


and  God's  holiness  again  disturbed  his  mind.  One 
dayr  when  he  was  overwhelmed  with  despair,  an  old) 
monk  entered  his  cell,  and  spoke  kindly  to  him.  Lu- 
ther opened  his  heart  to  him,  and  acquainted  him  with 
the  fears  that  disquieted  him.  The  respectable  old 
man  was  incapable  of  entering  into  all  his  doubts,  as 
Staupitz  had  done  ;  but  he  knew  bis  Credo,  and  he  had 
found  there  something  to  comfort  his  own  heart.  He 
thought  he  would  apply  the  same  remedy  to  the  young 
brother.  Calling  his  attention  therefore  to  the  Apostlesr 
creed,  which  Luther  had  learnt  in  his  early  childhood 
at  the  school  of  Mansfeld,  the  old  monk  uttered  in  sim- 
plicity this  article  :  "  I  believe  in  the  forgiveness  of 
sins."  These  simple  words,  ingenuously  recited  by 
the  pious  brother  at  a  critical  moment,  shed  sweet  con- 
solation in  the  mind  of  Luther.  "  I  believe,"  repeated 
he  to  himself  on  his  bed  of  suffering,  "  I  believe  the 
remission  of  sins."  "  Ah,"  said  the  monk,  "  you  must 
not  only  believe  that  David's  or  Peter's  sins  are  for- 
given :*  the  devils  believe  that.  The  commandment 
of  God  isr  that  we  believe  our  own  sins  are  forgiven." 
How  sweet  did  this  commandment  appear  to  poor 
Luther !  "  Hear  what  St.  Bernard  says  in  his  dis- 
course on  the  Annunciation,"  added  the  old  brother. 
"  The  testimony  which  the  Holy  Ghost  applies  to  your 
heart  is  this :  '  Thy  sins  are  forgiven  thce.J  n 

From  that  moment  the  light  shone  into  the  heart  of 
the  young  monk  of  Erfurth.  The  word  of  Grace  was 
pronounced,  and  he  believed  it.  He  renounced  the 
thought  of  meriting  salvation  ;  and  trusted  himself  with 
confidence  to  God's  grace  i»  Christ  Jesus.  He  did 
not  perceive  the  consequence  of  the  principle  he  ad- 
mitted ;  he  was  still  sincerely  attached  to  the  church  : 
and  yet  he  was  thenceforward  independent  of  it ;  for 
he  had  received  salvation  from  God  himself;  and 
Romish  Catholicism  was  virtually  extinct  to  him. 
From  that  hour  Luther  went  forward  ;  he  sought  in 
the  writings  of  the  Apostles  and  Prophets  for  all  that 
might  strengthen  the  hope  which  filled  his  heart.  Every 
day  he  implored  help  from  above,  and  every  day  new 
light  was  imparted  to  his  soul. 

This  comfort  to  his  spirit  restored  health  to  his  body. 
He  quickly  arose  from  his  sick-bed.  He  had  received 
new  life  in  more  than  one  sense.  The  festival  of 
Christmas,  which  soon  after  arrived,  was  to  him  an 
occasion  of  rich  enjoyment  of  all  the  consolations  of 
faith.  He  took  part  in  the  solemnities  of  that  sacred 
season  with  sweet  emotion  ;  and  when,  in  the  services 
of  the  day,  he  had  to  sing  these  words,  "  O  beata  culpct 
qua  talem  meruisti  Redemptorcm  /"  t  his  whole  soul 
joyfully  responded — Amen. 

Lutlier  had  now  been  two  years  in  the  cloister.  The 
time  drew  near  when  he  was  to  be  ordained  priest. 
He  had  received  largely  ;  and  he  looked  forward  with 
joy  to  the  liberty  afforded,  by  the  priest's  office,  of 
freely  giving  what  he  had  so  freely  received.  He  re- 
solved to  take  advantage  of  the  approaching  solemnity, 
to  be  perfectly  reconciled  to  his  father.  He  invited 
him  to  be  present  at  it,  and  even  asked  him  to  fix  the 
day.  John  Luther,  who  had  not  yet  entirely  forgiven 
his  son,  nevertheless  accepted  this  invitation,  and 
named  Sunday,  May  2,  1507. 

Amongst  the  number  of  Luther's  friends  was  John 
Braun,  vicar  of  Eisenach,  who  had  been  his  faithful 
adviser  during  his  abode  in  that  town.  Luther  wrote 
to  him  on  the  22d  of  April :  this  is  the  earliest  letter 
extant  of  the  Reformer.  It  is  addressed  :  "  To  John 
Braun,  holy  and  venerable  priest  of  Christ  and  of 
Mary." 

*  Daridi  aut  Petro  ....  Sed  mandatum  Dei  v#e,  ut  sin- 
guli  horainess  nobis  remitti  peccata  credamuK  -(Melanc. 
Vit.  L.) 

f  Keil  p.  16. 


CONSECRATION— LUTHER  AT  EISLEBEN— INVITATION  TO  WITTEMBERG.       49 


It  is  only  in  the  two  earliest  letters  of  Luther  that 
the  name  of  the  Virgin  occurs. 

"  God,  who  is  glorious  and  holy  in  all  his  works," 
said  the  candidate  for  the  priesthood,  "  having  con- 
descended to  raise  me  up,  who  am  but  a  wretched  man, 
and  in  every  way  an  unworthy  sinner,  and  to  call  me, 
by  his  alone  and  most  free  mercy,  to  his  high  and  holy 
ministry,  I,  that  I  may  testify  my  gratitude  for  goodness 
so  divine  and  munificent,  ought  (as  far  as  dust  and 
ashes  can)  to  fulfil,  with  all  my  heart,  the  office  entrust- 
ed to  me. 

"  For  this  cause,  my  beloved  father,  lord,  and  brother, 
I  ask  you,  if  you  have  time,  and  your  ecclesiastical  and 
domestic  affairs  allow  it,  to  deign  to  assist  me  by  your 
presence  and  your  prayers,  that  my  sacrifice  may  be 
acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God. 

"  But  I  give  you  notice,  that  you  must  come  straight 
to  our  monastery,  and  spend  some  time  with  us,  with- 
out seeking  any  other  lodging ;  you  must  become  an 
inhabitant  of  our  cells." 

At  length  the  day  arrived.  The  miner  of  Mansfield 
did  not  fall  to  be  present  at  the  consecration  of  his  son. 
He  even  gave  him  an  unequivocal  proof  of  his  affection 
and  generosity,  by  making  him  a  present,  on  this  occa- 
sion, of  twenty  florins. 

The  ceremony  took  place.  Jerome,  Bishop  of  Bran- 
denburg, officiated.  At  the  moment  in  which  he 
conferred  upon  Luther  the  power  of  celebrating  the 
mass,  he  put  the  cup  into  his  hand,  and  addressed  him 
in  these  solemn  words  :  "  Accipe  poleslatcm  sacrifi- 
candi  pro  vivis  et  mortuis — Receive  the  power  of 
offering  sacrifice  for  the  living  and  the  dead."  Luther, 
at  that  moment,  listened  calmly  to  these  words,  which 
granted  him  power  to  do  the  work  of  the  Son  of  God 
himself;  but,  at  a  later  period,  they  made  him  shudder. 
"  That  the  earth  did  not  then  swallow  us  both  up," 
says  ho,  "  was  an  instance  of  the  patience  and  long- 
suffering  of  the  Lord."* 

His  father  afterward  dined  in  the  convent  with  his 
son,  the  friends  of  the  young  priest,  and  the  monks. 
The  conversation  turned  on  Martin's  entrance  into  the 
cloister.  The  brethren  commended  it  as  a  highly 
meritorious  action  ;  on  which  the  inflexible  John,  turning 
to  them,  remarked  :  "  Have  you  not  read  in  the  Scrip- 
ture, that  it  is  a  duty  to  obey  father  and  mother  1" 
These  words  struck  Luther.  They  exhibited  the  action 
which  brought  him  into  the  convent  in  a  totally  different 
light ;  and  long  afterward  they  resounded  in  his  heart. 

Luther,  after  his  consecration,  acting  by  the  advice 
of  Staupitz,  made  several  short  excursions  on  foot  to 
the  parishes  and  convents  of  the  environs ;  either  to 
occupy  his  mind,  or  for  the  sake  of  necessary  exercise  ; 
or  else  to  accustom  himself  to  preaching. 

It  had  been  appointed  that  Corpus-Christi  should  be 
kept  with  much  ceremony  at  Eisleben.  The  vicar- 
general  was  to  be  present :  Luther  attended.  He  still 
felt  his  need  of  Staupitz,  and  took  every  opportunity  of 
being  in  the  company  of  that  enlightened  guide,  who 
helped  forward  his  soul  in  the  way  of  life.  The  pro- 
cession was  numerous  and  gaudy.  Staupitz  himself 
carried  the  host :  Luther  followed  next  in  his  priestly 
garments.  The  thought  that  Jesus  Christ  himself  was 
borne  before  him  by  the  vicar-general — the  idea  that 
the  Lord  in  person  was  present — suddenly  struck  upon 
Luther's  imagination,  and  so  overawed  him,  that  it  was 
with  difficulty  he  went  forward  :  a  cold  sweat  came 
over  him  ;  he  staggered,  and  thought  he  should  die  in 
the  agony  of  his  fear :  at  last,  the  procession  stopped. 
The  host  which  had  awakened  the  monk's  terrors  was 
reverently  deposited  in  the  sacristy,  and  Luther,  lefi 
alone  with  Staupitz,  threw  himself  into  his  arms,  anc 
confessed  the  cause  of  his  fear.  Then  the  vicar-gene- 

*  L.  Opp.  xvi.  (W.)  1144. 
G 


al,  who  had  long  known  that  gracious  Saviour  who 
ireaks  not  the  bruised  reed,  gently  whispered  :  "  Dear 
irother,  it  was  not  Jesus  Christ ;  for  Christ  does  not 
errify  ;  he  ever  comforts."* 

Luther  was  not  destined  to  remain  hidden  in  an 
>bscure  convent.  The  time  had  arrived  which  was  to 
ransfer  him  to  a  wider  theatre.  Staupitz,  with  whom 
ic  still  maintained  a  regular  correspondence,  was  well 
jersuaded  that  there  was  in  the  young  monk  a  spirit 

00  stirring  to  be  confined  within  a  narrow  range.     He 
spoke  of  him  to  Frederic,  the  Elector  of  Saxony  ;  and 

hat  enlightened  prince  invited  Luther,  in  1508,  pro- 
>ably  near  the  close  of  that  year,  to  become  professor 
of  the  University  of  Wittemberg.  Wittemberg  was 
he  field  on  which  Luther  was  ordained  to  fight  many 

1  hard  battle.     He  felt  himself  called  thither.     He  was 
jressed  to  repair  quickly  to  his  new  post.     He  answer- 
ed the  call  immediately ;  and  in  the  haste  of  his  re- 
moval, he  had  not  time  even  to  write  to  one  whom  he 
called  his  master  and  well-beloved  father,  the  curate  of 

Sisenach,  John  Braun.  He  wrote  to  him  from  Wittem- 
>erg,  a  few  months  after :  "  My  departure  was  so 
sudden,"  said  he,  "  that  it  was  almost  unknown  to 
hose  with  whom  I  was  living.  It  is  true,  I  am  at  a 
greater  distance,  but  the  better  half  of  me  remains  still 
with  you  ;  and  the  farther  I  am  removed  in  bodily 
)resence,  the  more  closely  my  spirit  isndrawn  to  you. "t 
Luther  had  been  three  years  in  the  cloister  of  Erfurth. 

Arriving  at  Wittemberg,  he  repaired  to  the  convent 
of  the  Augustines,  where  a  cell  was  assigned  him ;  for 
.hough  a  professor,  he  ceased  not  to  be  a  monk.  He 
was  appointed  to  teach  physics  and  dialectics.  This 
appointment  was  probably  conferred  upon  him  in  con- 
sideration of  his  philosophical  studies  at  Erfurth,  and 
lis  degree  of  master  of  arts.  Thus  Luther,  who  was 
then  hungering  and  thirsting  for  the  word  of  God,  was 
obliged  to  apply  himself  almost  exclusively  to  the  schol- 
astic philosophy  of  Aristotle.  He  felt  the  need  of  that 
bread  of  life  which  God  gives  to  the  world  ;  and  he 
was  forced  to  bury  himself  in  mere  human  subtleties. 
Hard  necessity  !  how  did  he  sigh  under  it !  "I  am 
very  well,  by  God's  favour,"  wrote  he  to  Braun  ;  "  but 
that  I  am  compelled  to  give  my  whole  attention  to 
philosophy.  From  the  moment  of  my  arrival  at  Wit- 
temberg, I  have  longed  to  exchange  that  study  for  theo- 
logy ;  but,"  added  he,  lest  he  should  be  thought  to 
mean  the  theology  of  that  age,  "  I  mean  that  theology 
which  seeks  the  kernel  of  the  nut,  the  pulp  of  the 
wheat,  the  marrow  of  the  bone.J  However  things 
may  go,  God  is  God,"  continued  he,  with  that  confi- 
dence which  was  the  life  of  his  soul,  "  man  almost  al- 
ways errs  in  his  judgment ;  but  this  is  our  God  for 
ever  and  ever  ;  he  will  be  our  guide  unto  death."  The 
labours  that  were  then  imposed  upon  Luther  were  at  a 
later  period  of  great  use  in  enabling  him  to  combat  the 
errors  of  the  schools. 

He  could  not  rest  there.  The  desire  of  his  heart 
was  destined  to  be  fulfilled.  That  same  power,  which 
some  years  before  had  driven  Luther  from  the  bar  to  a 
religious  life,  now  impelled  him  to  the  Bible.  He 
applied  himself  zealously  to  the  study  of  the  ancient 
languages,  especially  the  Greek  and  Hebrew,  that  he 
might  draw  knowledge  and  doctrine  from  the  fountain 
head.  He  was,  through  life,  indefatigable  in  his 
studies.^  Some  months  after  his  arrival  at  the  uni- 
versity, he  solicited  the  degree  of  bachelor  in  divinity. 

*  Es  ist  nicht  Christus,  denn  Christus  schreckt  nicht,  son- 
dern  trostet  nur.  (L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  p.  513,  &  724.) 

t  Epp.  i  p.  5.— 17th  March,  1509. 

|  Theologia  qure  nucleum  nucis  et  medullam  tritici  et  me- 
dullam  ossiam  scrutatur.  (L.  Epp.  i.  6.)  ' 

§  In  studiis  litterarum  corpore  ac  mento  indcfessus.  (Palla. 
vicini  Hist.  Concil.  Trid.  1.  p.  16.) 


50       FIRST  INSTRUCTIONS— LECTURES— THE  OLD  CHAPEL— HIS  PREACHING. 


He  obtained  it  at  the  end  of  March,  1509,  with  a 
particular  direction  to  Biblical  theology. 

Every  day  at  one  o'clock  Luther  was  expected  to 
discourse  upon  the  Bible;  a  precious  hour  for  the 
professor  and  the  pupils,  and  which  always  gave  them 
deeper  insight  into  the  divine  sense  of  those  discoveries 
so  long  lost  to  the  people  and  to  the  schools. 

He  began  these  lectures,  by  explaining  the  Psalms, 
and  he  soon  passed  to  the  Epistles  to  the  Romans.  It 
was  especially  in  meditating  upon  this  book  that  the 
light  of  truth  entered  his  heart.  In  the  retirement  of 
his  tranquil  cell,  he  devoted  whole  hours  to  the  study 
of  the  divine  word,  with  St.  Paul's  Epistle  open  before 
him.  One  day,  having  proceeded  as  far  as  the  seven- 
teenth verse  of  the  first  chapter,  he  there  read  this 
passage  of  the  Prophet  Habakkuk  :  "  The  just  shall 
live  by  faith."  The  precept  strikes  him.  There  is 
then  for  the  just  another  life  than  that  possessed  by 
the  rest  of  men  ;  and  this  life  is  the  fruit  of  faith. 
This  word,  which  he  receives  into  his  heart,  as  if  God 
himself  had  planted  it  there,  discloses  to  him  the  mys- 
tery of  the  Christian  life,  and  increases  that  life  in  his 
soul.  In  the  midst  of  his  struggles  in  after  life,  the 
words  often  recurred  to  him,  "  The  just  shall  live 
by  faith."* 

The  lectures  of  Luther,  with  such  a  preparation, 
were  very  different  from  any  that  had  been  heard 
before.  It  was  not  now  an  eloquent  rhetorician,  or  a 
pedantic  schoolman,  who  spoke ;  it  was  a  Christian  who 
had  experienced  the  power  of  revealed  truths  ;  who 
derived  them  from  the  Bible;  who  drew  them  from  the 
treasury  of  his  own  heart,  and  presented  them  in  full 
life  to  his  astonished  auditors.  It  was  no  longer 
man's  teaching ;  but  God's. 

This  altogether  new  way  of  exhibiting  the  truth 
made  some  noise  :  the  rumour  of  it  spread  far,  and 
attracted  to  the  newly  founded  university  a  crowd  of 
young  and  foreign  students.  Several  even  of  the  pro- 
fessors attended  Luther's  lectures,  and  among  others, 
the  celebrated  Martin  Pollich,  of  Mellerstadt,  doctor  of 
physic,  law,  and  philosophy,  who,  with  Staupitz,  had 
organized  the  university  of  Wittemberg,  and  had  been 
its  first  rector.  Mellerstadt,  who  has  been  often  called 
"  the  light  of  the  world,"  modestly  mixed  with  the 
pupils  of  the  new  professor.  "  This  monk,"  said  he, 
"  will  put  all  doctors  to  the  rout ;  he  will  introduce  a 
new  style  of  doctrine,  and  will  reform  the  whole 
Church  :  he  builds  upon  the  word  of  Christ ;  and 
no  one  in  this  world  can  either  resist  or  overthrow 
that  word,  though  it  should  be  attacked  with  all  the 
weapons  of  Philosophers,  Sophists,  Scotists,  Albertists, 
and  Thomists."f 

Staupitz,  who  was  as  the  hand  of  Providence  to 
develop  the  gifts  and  treasures  that  lay  hidden  in 
Luther,  invited  him  to  preach  in  the  church  of  the 
Augustines.  The  young  professor  shrunk  from  this 
proposal.  He  wished  to  confine  himself  to  his  aca- 
demical duties  ;  he  trembled  at  the  thought  of  adding 
to  them  those  of  public  preaching.  In  vain  Staupitz 
entreated  him  :  "  No,  no,"  replied  he,  "  it  is  no  light 
thing  to  speak  to  men  in  God's  stead."i  An  affecting 
instance  of  humility  in  this  great  Reformer  of  the 
Church !  Staupitz  persisted.  "  But  the  ingenious 
Luther  found,"  says  one  of  his  historians,  "  fifteen 
arguments,  pretexts,  or  evasions,  to  excuse  himself 
from  this  summons."  At  last  the  chief  of  the  Augus- 
tines, still  persevering  in  his  application  :  "  Ah,  worthy 
doctor,"  said  Luther,  "  it  would  be  the  death  of  me 
I  could  not  stand  it  three  months."  "  And  what  then  ?' 
replied  the  vicar-general ;  "  in  God's  name  so  be  it ; 

*  Seckend.  p.  55 

t  Melch.  Adam.  Vita  Lutheri,  p.  104. 

\  Fabricius,  Centifolium  Lutheri,  p.  33.    Mathesius,  p.  6. 


or  in  heaven  also  the  Lord  requires  devoted  and  able 
servants."     Luther  was  obliged  to  yield. 

In  the  middle  of  the  square  of  Wittemberg  stood  an 
old  wooden  chapel,  thirty  feet  long  and  twenty  broad, 
whose  walls,  propped  on  all  sides,  were  falling  to  ruins. 
A  pulpit  made  of  planks,  raised  three  feet  above  the 
ground,  received  the  preacher.  It  was  in  this  chapel 
;hat  the  Reformation  was  first  preached.  It  was  the 
will  of  God  that  this  work  for  the  restoration  of  his 
rlory  should  have  the  humblest  beginnings.  The 
bundation  of  the  church  of  the  Augustines  was  only 
just  laid,  and  till  it  should  be  completed  they  made 
use  of  this  mean  place  of  worship.  "That  building,'' 
adds  the  contemporary  of  Luther,  who  relates  these 
circumstances,  "  may  be  aptly  compared  to  the  stable 
n  which  Christ  was  born.*  It  was  in  that  enclosure 
that  God  willed,  if  we  may  so  speak,  that  his  well- 
beloved  Son  should  be  born  a  second  time.  Among 
•he  thousand  cathedrals  and  parish  churches  with  which 
the  world  is  filled,  not  one  was  chosen  for  the  glorious 
announcement  of  everlasting  life." 

Luther  preached  :  everything  was  striking  in  the 
new  preacher.  His  expressive  countenance  and  digni- 
fied demeanour,  his  clear  and  sonorous  voice,  charmed 
the  audience.  Before  his  time,  the  greater  number  of 
preachers  had  sought  to  amuse  their  hearers  rather 
than  to  convert  them.  The  deep  seriousness  that 
marked  the  preaching  of  Luther,  and  the  joy  with  which 
the  knowledge  of  the  Gospel  filled  his  own  heart,  gave 
to  his  eloquence  an  authority,  energy,  and  unction, 
which  none  of  his  predecessors  had  possessed. 
"  Gifted  with  a  ready  and  lively  intelligence,"  says 
one  of  his  adversaries,!  "  having  a  retentive  memory, 
and  speaking  his  mother  tongue  with  remarkable  flu- 
ency, Luther  was  surpassed  in  eloquence  by  none  of 
his  contemporaries.  Addressing  his  hearers  from  his 
place  in  the  pulpit,  as  if  he  had  been  agitated  by  some 
powerful  passion,  and  adapting  his  action  to  the  words, 
he  affected  their  minds  in  a  surprising  manner,  and 
carried  them  like  a  torrent  whither  he  would.  So 
much  power,  action,  and  eloquence  are  rarely  found 
among  the  people  of  the  north."  "  He  had,"  says 
Bossuet,  "  a  lively  and  impetuous  eloquence,  which 
delighted  and  captivated  his  auditory. "J 

In  a  short  time  the  little  chapel  could  no  longer 
contain  the  crowds  that  flocked  thither.  The  council 
of  Wittemberg  then  chose  Luther  for  their  preacher, 
and  called  upon  him  to  preach  in  the  church  of  that 
city.  The  impression  which  he  there  produced  was 
still  greater.  His  wonderful  genius,  his  eloquent  style, 
and  the  excellency  of  the  doctrines  he  proclaimed, 
equally  astonished  his  auditors.  His  reputation  spread 
far  and  wide,  and  Frederic  the  Wise  himself  came 
once  to  Wittemberg  to  hear  him. 

It  was  as  if  a  new  existence  was  opening  for  Lu- 
ther. To  the  drowsiness  of  the  cloister  had  succeeded 
a  life  of  active  exertion.  Freedom,  employment, 
earnest  and  regular  action  completed  the  re-establish- 
ment of  harmony  and  peace  in  his  spirit.  He  was  now 
at  last  in  his  proper  place,  and  the  work  of  God  was 
about  to  open  out  its  majestic  course.  Luther  was 
continuing  his  teaching  both  in  the  hall  of  the  academy 
and  in  the  church,  when  he  was  interrupted  in  his  la- 
bours. In  1510,  or  according  to  some,  not  till  1511 
or  1512,  he  was  despatched  to  Rome  A  difference 
had  arisen  between  seven  convents  of  his  order  and 
the  vicar-general. §  Luther's  acuteness,  eloquence, 
and  talents  in  discussion,  led  to  his  being  chosen  to 

*  Myconius. 

t  Florimond  Raymond,  Hist,  haeres.  cap.  5. 
j  Bossuet,  Hist,  des  Variations,  1. 1. 

\  Quod  septem  conventus  a  vicario  in  quibusdam  dissenti- 
rent.  (Cochlaeus,  2.) 


JOURNEY  TO  ROME— SICKNESS  AT  BOtOGNA— LUTHER  IN  ROME. 


51 


represent  these  seven  monasteries.*  This  dispensation 
of  divine  Providence  was  needed.  It  was  fit  that  Lu- 
ther should  know  what  Rome  was.  Full  of  the  pre- 
judices and  illusions  of  the  cloister,  he  had  always 
pictured  it  to  himself  as  the  seat  of  holiness. 

He  set  out ;  he  crossed  the  Alps.  But  hardly  had 
he  descended  into  the  plains  of  rich  and  voluptuous 
Italy,  than  he  found  at  every  step  matter  of  surprise 
and  scandal.  The  poor  German  monk  was  entertained 
at  a  wealthy  convent  of  the  Benedictines,  situate  on  the 
Po,  in  Lombardy.  This  convent  enjoyed  a  revenue  of 
thirty-six  thousand  ducats ;  twelve  thousand  were 
spent  for  the  table,  twelve  thousand  on  the  buildings, 
and  twelve  thousand  to  supply  the  other  wants  of  the 
monks. f  The  magnificence  of  the  apartments,  the 
richness  of  the  dresses,  and  the  delicacy  of  the  viands, 
astonished  Luther.  Marble,  silk,  and  luxury  of  every 
kind  ;  what  a  novel  spectacle  to  the  humble  brother  of 
the  convent  of  Wittemberg  1  He  was  amazed  and 
silent  ;  but  Friday  came,  and  what  was  his  surprise  1 
The  table  of  the  Benedictines  was  spread  with  abund- 
ance of  meats.  Then  he  found  courage  to  speak  out. 
"  The  church,"  said  he,  "  and  the  Pope,  forbid  such 
things."  The  Benedictines  were  offended  at  this  re- 
buke from  the  unmannerly  German.  But  Luther,  hav- 
ing repeated  his  remark,  and  perhaps  threatened  to  re- 
port their  irregularity,  some  of  them  thought  it  easiest 
to  get  rid  of  their  troublesome  guest.  The  porter  of 
the  convent  hinted  to  him  that  he  incured  danger  by 
his  stay.  He  accordingly  took  his  departure  from  this 
epicurean  monastery,  and  pursued  his  journey  to  Bolog- 
na, where  he  fell  sick.J  Some  have  seen  in  this  sick- 
ness the  effect  of  poison.  It  is  more  probable  that  the 
change  in  his  mode  of  living  disordered  the  frugal  monk 
of  Wittemberg,  who  had  been  used  to  subsist  for  the 
most  part  on  dry  bread  and  herrings.  This  sickness 
was  not  "  unto  death,"  but  for  the  glory  of  God.  His 
constitutional  sadness  and  depression  returned.  What 
a  fate  was  before  him,  to  perish  thus  far  away  from 
Germany,  under  a  scorching  sun,  in  a  foreign  land. 
The  distress  of  mind  he  had  experienced  at  Erfurth 
again  oppressed  him.  A  sense  of  his  sins  disturbed 
him ;  and  the  prospect  of  the  judgment  of  God  filled 
him  with  dismay.  But  in  the  moment  when  his  terror 
was  at  its  height,  that  word  of  Paul,  "  The  just  shall 
live  by  Faith,"  recurred  with  power  to  his  thought, 
and  beamed  upon  his  soul  like  a  ray  from  heaven. 
Raised  and  comforted,  he  rapidly  regained  health,  and 
again  set  forth  for  Rome,  expecting  to  find  there  a 
very  different  manner  of  life  from  that  of  the  Lombard 
convents,  and  eager  to  efface,  by  the  contemplation  of 
Roman  sanctity,  the  sad  impression  left  upon  his 
memory  by  his  sojourn  on  the  banks  of  the  Po. 

At  last,  after  a  fatiguing  journey,  under  the  burning 
sun  of  Italy,  he  approached  the  seven-hilled  city.  His 
heart  was  moved  within  him.  His  eyes  longed  to  be 
hold  the  queen  of  the  earth,  and  of  the  Church  !  As 
soon  as  he  discovered  from  a  distance  the  Eternal 
City — the  city  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  the  metro 
polis  of  the  Catholic  World,  he  threw  himself  on  the 
earth,  exclaiming,  "  Holy  Rome,  I  salute  thee !" 

Luther  was  now  in  Rome  ;  the  professor  of  Wittem- 
berg was  in  the  midst  of  the  eloquent  ruins  of  the  Rome 
of  Consuls  and  of  Emperors,  the  Rome  of  Confessors 
of  Christ,  and  of  Martyrs.  There  had  lived  Plautus 
and  Virgil,  whose  works  he  had  carried  with  him  into 
his  cloister  ;  and  all  those  great  men  whose  history  had 
so  often  stirred  his  heart.  He  beheld  their  statues, 
and  the  ruined  monuments  which  still  attested  their 
glory.  But,  all  this  glory  and  power  had  passed  away 

*  Quod  esset  acer  ingenio  et  ad  contradiccndum  audax  e 
vehemens.  (Ibid.) 

t  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  p.1468. 

j  Matth.  Dresser  Hist.  Luther". 


Ie  trod  under  foot  the  dust  of  them.  He  called  to 
mind,  at  every  step  he  took,  the  melancholy  presenti- 
ments of  Scipio,  when,  shedding  tears  over  the  ruins 
of  Carthage,  its  palaces  in  flames,  and  its  walls  broken 
lown,  he  exclaimed:  "  It  will  one  day  be  thus  with 
Koine  /"  "  And  truly,"  said  Luther,  "  the  Rome  of 
Scipios  and  Caesars  is  but  a  corpse.  There  are  such 
leaps  of  ruin  that  the  foundations  of  the  houses  rest 
at  this  hour  where  once  their  roofs  were.  There," 
said  he,  turning  a  melancholy  look  on  its  ruins,  "  there 
were  once  the  riches  and  treasures  of  this  world  !"* 
\11  these  fragments  of  wreck,  which  his  foot  encoun- 
ered,  whispered  to  Luther,  within  Rome  herself,  that 
what  is  strongest  in  the  sight  of  men,  may  be  destroyed 
by  the  breath  of  the  Lord. 

But  with  these  profaner  ruins  were  mixed  holy  ashes : 
he  thought  of  this  came  to  his  mind.  The  burial  places 
of  the  martyrs  are  hard  by  those  of  Roman  generals 
and  conquerors.  Christian  Rome,  and  her  trials,  had 
more  power  over  the  heart  of  the  Saxon  Monk,  than 
Pagan  Rome  with  all'her  glory.  In  this  very  place  ar- 
rived that  epistle  wherein  Paul  wrote,  "the just  shall 
live  by  faith."  He  is  not  far  from  the  forum  of  Appi- 
us,  and  the  Three  Taverns.  In  that  spot  was  the  house 
of  Narcissus  ;  here  stood  the  palace  of  Caesar,  where 
,he  Lord  delivered  the  Apostle  from  the  jaws  of  the 
ion.  Oh,  how  did  these  recollections  strengthen  the 
leart  of  the  monk  of  Wittemberg ! 

Rome  then  presented  a  widely  different  aspect.  The 
warlike  Julius  II.  filled  the  pontifical  chair,  and  not 
Leo  X.,  as  some  distinguished  historians  of  Germany 
lave  said,  doubtless  for  want  of  attention.  Luther 
often  related  an  incident  of  this  Pope's  life.  When  the 
news  was  brought  hirn  that  his  army  had  been  defeated 
by  the  French  before  Ravenna,  he  was  reading  his 
arayers  ;  he  threw  the  book  on  the  floor,  exclaiming, 
with  a  dreadful  oath,  "  Well,  now  thou  art  become  a 
Frenchman. — Is  it  thus  thou  guardest  thy  church  1" 
Then,  turning  himself  in  the  direction  of  the  country 
to  whose  arms  he  thought  to  have  recourse,  he  uttered 
these  words,  "  Holy  Swiss  !  pray  for  us."|  Ignorance, 
levity,  and  dissolute  morals,  a  profane  contempt  of 
everything  sacred,  and  a  shameful  traffic  in  divine 
things ;  such  was  the  spectacle  presented  by  this 
wretched  city.  Yet  the  pious  monk  continued  for  a 
while  in  his  illusions. 

Having  arrived  about  the  period  of  the  festival  of  St. 
John,  he  heard  the  Romans  repeating  around  him  a 
proverb  current  among  the  people  :  "  Blessed  is  that 
mother,"  said  they,  "whose  son  says  mass  on  St. 
John's  eve."  Oh,  thought  Luther,  how  gladly  would 
I  make  my  mother  blessed.  The  pious  son  of  Marga- 
ret made  some  attempts  to  say  mass  on  that  day,  but 
he  could  not,  the  crowd  was  too  great.J 

Warm  in  his  feeling,  and  confiding  in  disposition,  he 
visited  all  the  churches  and  chapels,  gave  credit  to  all 
the  marvellous  stories  there  told  him,  went  through 
with  devotion  the  observances  required,  and  was  pleas- 
ed at  being  able  to  perform  so  many  pious  acts,  from 
which  his  friends  at  home  were  debarred.  "  How  do 
I  regret,"  thought  the  pious  monk,  "  that  my  father 
and  mother  are  still  living :  how  happy  should  I  be  to 
deliver  them  from  the  fire  of  purgatory  by  my  masses, 
my  prayers,  and  other  admirable  works. "§  He  had 
found  the  light ;  but  the  darkness  was  far  from  being 
wholly  chased  from  his  mind  ;  he  had  the  faith  and  love 
of  the  Gospel,  but  not  the  knowledge  of  it.  It  was  no 
easy  matter  to  emerge  from  that  deep  gloom  that  had 
for  so  many  ages  overspread  the  earth. 

*  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  2374,  2377. 

t  Sancte  Swizere  !  ora  pro  nobis.    (L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  1314, 
1332.) 
•    t  L.  Opp  (W.)  Dedication  of  the  117  Psm.  VI.  vol  L.  g. 

§  Ibid. 


52 


LUTHER  IN  ROME. 


Luther  said  mass  several  times  at  Rome.  He  went 
through  it  with  all  the  unction  and  dignity  that  such  an 
act  seemed  to  him  to  require.  But  how  was  the  heart 
of  the  Saxon  monk  distressed,  when  he  saw  the  profane 
and  heartless  formality  with  which  the  Roman  clergy 
celebrated  this  Sacrament !  The  priests,  on  their  part, 
laughed  at  his  simplicity.  One  day,  when  he  was  of- 
ficiating, he  found  that  at  the  altar  they  had  read  seven 
masses  while  he  was  reading  one.  "  Quick !  quick  !" 
said  one  of  the  priests,  "  send  Our  Lady  her  Son  back 
speedily ;"  thus  impiously  alluding  to  the  transubstan- 
tiation  of  the  bread  into  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ. 
Another  time  Luther  had  only  got  as  far  as  the  Gospel, 
when  the  priest  who  was  at  his  side  had  already  finish- 
ed the  mass  :  "  Make  haste,  make  haste  !"  whispered 
the  latter,  ««  do  have  done  with  it."* 

His  astonishment  was  still  greater,  when  he  found, 
in  the  dignitaries  of  the  church,  the  same  corruption  he 
had  observed  in  the  inferior  clergy.  He  had  hoped 
better  things  of  them. 

It  was  the  fashion  at  the  papal  court  to  attack  Chris- 
tianity ;  and  a  person  was  not  counted  a  man  of  sense, 
if  he  did  not  hold  some  eccentric  and  heretical  opinion 
in  relation  to  the  dogmas  of  the  Church,  t  Some  would 
have  convinced  Erasmus,  by  certain  passages  from 
Pliny,  that  there  was  no  difference  between  the  souls 
of  men  and  of  beasts  ;  and  there  were  young  courtiers 
of  the  Pope,  who  affirmed  that  the  orthodox  faith  was 
the  growth  of  the  cunning  invention  of  the  saints. 

Luther's  office  of  envoy  from  the  Augustines  of 
Germany,  procured  him  invitations  to  several  meetings 
of  distinguished  ecclesiastics.  One  day,  in  particular, 
he  was  at  table  with  several  prelates :  the  latter  exhi- 
bited openly  their  buffoonery  in  manners  and  impious 
conversation  ;  and  did  not  scruple  to  give  utterance 
before  him  to  many  indecent  jokes,  doubtless  thinking 
him  one  like  themselves.  They  related,  among  other 
things,  laughing,  and  priding  themselves  upon  it,  how, 
when  saying  mass  at  the  altar,  instead  of  the  sacra- 
mental words  which  were  to  transform  the  elements 
into  the  body  and  blood  of  the  Saviour,  they  pro- 
nounced over  the  bread  and  wine  these  sarcastic  words  : 
41  Bread  thou  art,  and  bread  thou  shalt  remain  ;  wine 
thou  art,  and  wine  thou  shalt  remain — Panis  es  et  pa- 
nis  manebis ;  vinum  es  et  vinum  manebis."  "  Then," 
continued  they,  "  we  elevate  the  pyx,  and  all  the  peo- 
ple worship."  Luther  could  scarcely  believe  his  ears. 
His  mind,  gifted  with  much  vivacity,  and  even  gaiety, 
in  the  society  of  his  friends,  was  remarkable  for  gravity 
when  treating  on  serious  things.  These  Romish  mock- 
eries shocked  him.  "  I,"  says  he,  "  was  a  serious  and 
pious  young  monk ;  such  language  deeply  grieved  me. 
If  at  Rome  they  speak  thus  openly  at  table,  thought  I, 
what,  if  their  actions  should  correspond  with  their 
words,  and  popes,  cardinals,  and  courtiers  should  thus 
say  mass.  And  I,  who  have  so  often  heard  them  re- 
cite it  so  devoutly,  how,  in  that  case,  must  I  have  been 
deceived!" 

Luther  often  mixed  with  the  monks  and  citizens  of 
Rome.  If  some  among  them  extolled  the  Pope  and  the 
clergy,  the  greater  number  gave  free  vent  to  their  com- 
plaints and  sarcasms.  What  stories  had  they  to  tell  of 
the  reigning  Pope,  of  Alexander  VI.,  and  of  so  many 
others !  One  day,  his  Roman  friends  related,  how 
Caesar  Borgia,  having  fled  from  Rome,  had  been  taken 
in  Spain.  On  the  eve  of  trial,  he  prayed  for  mercy, 
and  asked  for  a  priest  to  visit  him  in  his  prison.  They 
sent  him  a  monk.  He  murdered  him,  disguised  him- 

*  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xix.  von  der  Winkelnesse,  &c. 

t  In  quel  tempo  mon  pareva  fosse  galantuomo  e  buon  corte- 
giano  colui  che  de  dogmi  della  chiesa  non  aveva  qualche  opin 
ion  erronea  ed  heretica.  (Caracciola  Vit.  MS.  Paul  IV.) 
cited  by  Bancke. 


self  in  his  cowl,  and  effected  his  escape.  "  I  heard  that 
at  Rome  :  it  is  a  thing  well  known,"  says  Luther.* 
Another  day,  passing  along  the  principal  street  that  led 
;o  St.  Peter's  church,  he  stopped  in  astonishment  be- 
bre  a  statue,  representing  a  pope,  under  the  figure  of 
i  woman  holding  a  sceptre,  clothed  in  the  papal  mantle, 
bearing  a  child  in  her  arms.  "  It  is  a  girl  of  Mentz," 
said  the  people,  "  who  was  chosen  Pope  by  the  Car- 
dinals, and  was  delivered  of  a  child  on  this  spot :  there- 
rore  no  pope  ever  passes  through  this  street."  "  I 
wonder,"  observed  Luther,  "  that  the  popes  allow  the 
statue  to  remain."! 

Luther  had  expected  to  find  the  edifice  of  the  church 
encompassed  with  splendour  and  strength  ;  but  its 
doors  were  broken  in,  and  its  walls  consumed  by  fire. 
He  saw  the  desolation  of  the  sanctuary,  and  drew  back 
n  alarm.  He  had  dreamed  of  sanctity  ;  he  found  no- 
thing but  profanation. 

He  was  not  less  struck  with  the  disorders  commit- 
ted in  the  city.  "  The  police  is  strict  and  severe  in 
Rome,"  said  he.  "  The  judge,  or  captain,  rides  through 
;he  city  every  night,  with  three  hundred  attendants. 
He  stops  all  he  finds  in  the  streets  ;  if  he  meets  an 
armed  man,  he  hangs  him,  or  throws  him  into  the  Ti- 
ser.  And  yet  the  city  is  full  of  disorders  and  murders  ; 
whilst,  in  places  where  the  word  of  God  is  truly  and 
"aithfully  preached,  we  see  peace  and  order  prevail, 
without  the  necessity  for  law  or  severity.":}:  "  It  is  in- 
credible what  sins  and  atrocities  are  committed  in 
Rome,"  he  says  again  ;  "  they  must  be  seen  and  heard 
to  be  believed.  So  that  it  is  usual  to  say  ;  '  If  there 
t>e  a  hell,  Rome  is  built  above  it ;  it  is  an  abyss  from 
whence  all  sins  proceed.'  "$ 

This  sight  made  at  the  time  a  great  impression  on 
Luther's  mind  ;  an  impression  which  was  afterward 
deepened.  "  The  nearer  we  approach  to  Rome,  tho 
greater  number  of  bad  Christians  do  we  find,"  said  he, 
several  years  after.  "  It  is  commonly  observed  that 
he  who  goes  to  Rome  for  the  first  time,  goes  to  seek 
a  knave  there ;  the  second  time,  he  finds  him  ;  and 
the  third  time,  he  brings  him  away  with  him  under  his 
cloak.  But  now,  people  are  become  so  clever,  that 
they  make  the  three  journeys  in  one."  II  One  of  the 
nost  profound  geniuses  of  Italy,  though  of  deplorable 
celebrity,  Macchiavelli,  who  was  living  at  Florence 
when  Luther  passed  through  that  city  to  go  to  Rome, 
has  made  a  similar  remark :  "  The  greatest  symptom," 
said  he,  "of  the  approaching  ruin  of  Christianity,  (by 
which  he  meant  the  Roman  Catholic  religion,)  is,  that 
the  nearer  we  approach  the  capital  of  Christendom,  the 
less  do  we  find  of  the  Christian  spirit  in  the  people. 
The  scandalous  example  and  the  crimes  of  the  court 
of  Rome  have  caused  Italy  to  lose  every  principle  of 
piety  and  every  religious  sentiment.  We  Italians," 
continues  the  great  historian,  "  are  principally  indebted 
to  the  Church,  and  to  the  priests,  for  having  become 
impious  and  profligate. "If  Luther  felt,  later  in  life,  all 
the  inportance  of  this  journey :  "  If  any  one  would  give 
me  a  hundred  thousand  florins,"  said  he,  "  I  would  not 
have  missed  seeing  Rome."** 

This  journey  was  also  of  advantage  to  him  in  regard 
to  learning.  Like  Reuchlin,  Luther  profited  by  his  re- 
sidence in  Italy,  to  obtain  a  deeper  understanding  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures.  He  there  took  lessons  in  He- 
brew from  a  celebrated  Rabbin,  named  Elias  Levita. 

*  Dashabeich  zu  Romfurgewiss  gehorl.     (Table  Talk; 

•f  Es  nimmt  mich  "Wunder  dass  die  Pabste  solches  Bild  lei- 
den  konnen — (Ibid.  p.  1320.) 
L.  Opp    (W.)  xxii.  p.  2376. 
Address  to  the  Christian  Nobles  of  Germany. 
1st  irgend  eine  Haelle,  so  muss  Rom  darauf  gebaut  seyn. 
(I  b.  2377.) 

IT  Diss.  on  the  1st.  Decade  of  Livy. 
**  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  p.  2374. 


PILATE'S  STAIRCASE-CONFESSION  OF  FAITH— LUTHER  LEAVES  ROME.        53 


He  acquired,  partly  at  Rome,  the  knowledge  of  that  di- 
vine word,  under  the  assault  of  which  Rome  was  doom- 
ed to  fall. 

But  this  journey  was,  above  all,  of  great  importance 
to  Luther  in  another  respect.  Not  only  was  the  veil 
withdrawn,  and  the  sardonic  laugh,  the  jesting  incre- 
dulity, which  lay  concealed  behind  the  Romish  super- 
stitions, revealed  to  the  future  Reformer :  but  also  the 
living  faith  which  God  had  implanted  in  him,  was  then 
powerfully  strengthened. 

We  have  seen  how  he  had  at  first  submitted  to  all 
the  vain  practices  which  the  Church  enjoins,  in  order 
to  purchase  the  remission  of  sins.  One  day,  in  parti 
cular,  wishing  to  obtain  an  indulgence  promised  by 
the  pope  to  any  one  who  should  ascend,  on  his  knees, 
what  is  called  Pilate's  staircase,  the  poor  Saxon  monk 
was  slowly  climbing  those  steps  which,  they  told  him, 
had  been  miraculously  transported  from  Jerusalem  to 
Rome.  But  while  he  was  going  through  this  merito- 
rious work,  he  thought  he  heard  a  voice  like  thunder 
speaking  from  the  depth  of  his  heart :  "  The  just  shall 
live  by  faith."  These  words,  which  already  on  two 
occasions  had  struck  upon  his  ear  as  the  voice  of  an 
angel  of  God,  resounded  instantaneously  and  power- 
fully within  him.  He  started  up  in  terror  on  the  steps 
up  which  he  had  been  crawling ;  he  was  horrified  at 
himself;  and,  struck  with  shame  for  the  degradation 
to  which  superstition  had  debased  him,  he  led  from 
the  scene  of  his  folly.* 

This  powerful  text  had  a  mysterious  influence  on 
the  life  of  Luther.  It  was  a  creative  word  for  the  Re- 
former and  for  the  Reformation.  It  was  by  means  of 
that  word  that  God  then  said  :  "  Let  there  be  light, 
and  there  was  light." 

It  is  frequently  necessary  that  a  truth  should  be  re- 
peatedly presented  to  our  minds,  in  order  to  produce 
its  due  effect.  Luther  had  often  studied  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans,  and  yet  never  had  justification  by  faith, 
as  there  taught,  appeared  so  clear  to  him.  He  now 
understood  that  righteousness  which  alone  can  stand 
in  the  sight  of  God  ;  he  was  now  partaker  of  that  per- 
fect obedience  of  Christ  which  God  imputes  freely  to 
the  sinner  as  soon  as  he  looks  in  humility  to  the  God- 
man  crucified.  This  was  the  decisive  epoch  in  the 
inward  life  of  Luther.  That  faith  which  had  saved 
him  from  the  fear  of  death,  became  henceforward  the 
soul  of  his  theology  ;  a  strong  hold  in  every  danger, 
giving  power  to  his  preaching,  and  strength  to  his  cha- 
rity, constituting  a  ground  of  peace,  a  motive  to  service, 
and  a  consolation  in  life  and  death. 

But  this  great  doctrine  of  a  salvation  which  proceeds 
from  God,  and  not  from  man,  was  not  merely  the  power 
of  God  unto  salvation  to  Luther,  it  also  became  the 
power  of  God  to  reform  the  Church.  It  was  the  same 
weapon  which  the  Apostles  had  once  wielded,  and  now, 
after  long  disuse,  it  was  drawn  forth  in  its  original 
brightness  from  the  arsenal  of  Almighty  God.  At  the 
moment  when  Luther  started  from  his  knees,  trans- 
ported with  emotion  at  that  word  which  St.  Paul  had 
addressed  to  the  inhabitants  of  Rome,  the  truth,  hitherto 
held  captive  and  fettered  in  the  Church,  stood  up  also 
to  fall  no  more. 

We  must  here  quote  his  own  words.  "  Though  as 
a  monk  I  was  holy  and  irreproachable,"  says  he,  "  my 
conscience  was  still  filled  with  trouble  and  torment. 
I  could  not  endure  the  expression — the  righteous  jus- 
tice of  God.  I  did  not  love  that  just  and  holy  Being 
who  punishes  sinners.  I  felt  a  secret  anger  against 
him  ;  I  hated  him  because,  not  satisfied  with  terrifying 
by  his  law,  and  by  the  miseries  of  life,  poor  creatures  al- 
ready ruined  by  original  sin,  he  aggravated  our  suffer- 
ings by  the  Gospel.  But  when,  by  the  Spirit  of  God, 
*  Seek.  p.  56. 


I  understood  these  words, — when  I  learnt  how  the  jus- 
tification of  the  sinner  proceeds  from  God's  mere  mer- 
cy by  the  way  of  faith,* — then  I  felt  myself  born  again 
as  a  new  man,  and  I  entered  by  an  opened  door  into 
the  very  paradise  of  God.t  From  that  hour  I  aavv  the 
precious  and  holy  Scriptures  with  new  eyes.  I  went 
through  the  whole  Bible.  I  collected  a  multitude  of 
passages  which  taught  me  what  the  work  of  God  was. 
And,  as  I  had  before  heartily  hated  that  expression, 
'  the  righteousness  of  God,'  I  began,  from  that  time,  to 
value  and  to  love  it,  as  the  sweetest  and  most  conso- 
latory truth.  Truly  this  text  of  St.  Paul  was  to  me 
as  the  very  gate  of  heaven." 

Hence  it  was,  that,  when  he  was  called  upon  on 
some  s.olemn  occasions  to  confess  this  doctrine,  it  ever 
roused  his  enthusiasm  and  rough  eloquence.  "  I  see," 
said  he  in  a  critical  moment,:}:  "  that  the  devil,  by  means 
of  his  teachers  and  doctors,  is  incessantly  attacking  this 
fundamental  article,  and  that  he  cannot  rest  to  cease 
from  this  object.  Well,  then,  I,  Doctor  Martin  Luther, 
an  unworthy  evangelist  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  do 
confess  thisarticle,"that  faith  alone,  without  works,  jus- 
tifies in  the  sight  of  God,  and  I  declare,  that  in  spite  of 
the  emperor  of  the  Romans,  the  emperor  of  the  Turks, 
the  emperor  of  the  Tartars,  the  emperor  of  the  Persians, 
the  pope,  all  the  cardinals,  bishops,  priests,  monks, 
nuns,  kings,  princes,  nobles,  all  the  world  and  all  the 
devils,  it  shall  stand  unshaken  for  ever  !  that  if  they 
will  persist  in  opposing  this  truth,  they  will  draw  upon 
their  heads  the  flames  of  hell.  This  is  the  true  and 
holy  gospel,  and  the  declaration  of  me,  Doctor  Luther, 
according  to  the  light  given  to  me  by  the  Holy  Spirit. 
....  There  is  no  one,"  he  continues,  "  who  has  died 
for  our  sins,  but  Jesus  Christ  the  Son  of  God.  I  re- 
peat it  once  more  :  let  all  the  evil  spirits  of  earth  and 
hell  foam  and  rage  as  they  will,  this  is  nevertheless 
true.  And  if  Christ  alone  takes  away  sin,  we  cannot 
do  so  by  all  our  works.  But  good  works  follow  re- 
demption,— as  surely  as  fruit  appears  upon  a  living 
tree.  This  is  our  doctrine  ;  this  the  Holy  Spirit  teach- 
eth,  together  with  all  holy  Christian  people.  We  hold 
it  in  God's  name.  Amen  !" 

It  was  thus  that  Luther  discovered  what  hitherto 
even  the  most  illustrious  teachers  and  reformers  had 
overlooked.  It  was  in  Rome  that  God  gave  him  this 
clear  view  of  the  fundamental  doctrine  of  Christianity. 
He  had  come  to  seek  in  that  city  of  the  Pontiffs,  the 
solution  of  some  difficulties  concerning  a  monastic 
order ;  he  brought  back  in  his  heart,  that  which  was  to 
emancipate  the  Church. 

Luther  left  Rome  and  returned  to  Wittemberg,  full 
of  grief  and  indignation.  Turning  away  his  eyes  in 
disgust  from  the  pontifical  city,  he  directed  them  trust- 
pully  to  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  to  that  new  life  which 
;he  word  of  God  seemed  then  to  offer  to  the  world. 
This  word  gained  ground  in  his  heart  in  proportion  as 
;he  Church  lost  its  hold  upon  him.  He  disengaged 
limself  from  the  one  to  turn  to  the  other.  All  the 
Reformation  was  comprised  in  that  change  ;  for  it  put 
God  in  the  place  the  priest  had  usurped. 

Staupitz  and  the  Elector  did  not  lose  sight  of  the 
monk  they  had  called  to  the  university  of  Wittemberg. 
[t  seems  as  if  the  vicar-general  had  a  presentiment  of 
he  work  that  was  to  be  accomplished  in  the  world, 
and  that,  finding  it  too  hard  for  him,  he  desired  to  urge 
Luther  to  undertake  it.  Nothing  is  more  remarkable, 
or  perhaps  more  inexplicable,  than  the  character  of  the 
nan  who  was  ever  ready  to  impel  the  monk  onward 
n  the  path  to  which  God  called  him,  and  yet  himself 

*  QuavosDeusmisericorsjustificatperfidem.  (L.  Opp.lat) 
t  Hie  me  prorsus  renatum  esse  sensi  et  apertis  portis  in  ip- 
sum  paradisum  intrasse.     (Ibid.) 

Gloss  on  the  Imperial  Edict,  1531.  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  tom.xx.) 


RETURN  TO  WITTEMBERG— CARLSTADT— LUTHER'S  OATH. 


went  and  ended  his  days  sadly  in  a  convent.  The 
preaching  of  the  young  professor  had  made  an  impres- 
sion on  the  prince  ;  he  admired  the  strength  of  his 
understanding,  the  power  of  his  eloquence,  and  the 
excellence  of  the  subjects  that  he  handled.*  The 
Elector  and  his  friends,  wishing  to  promote  a  man  of 
such  great  promise,  resolved  to  raise  him  to  the  dis- 
tinction of  doctor  of  divinity.  Staupitz  repaired  to  the 
convent.  He  led  Luther  into  the  cloister  garden,  and 
there  talking  with  him  alone  under  a  tree,  which  Luther 
afterwards  took  pleasure  in  pointing  out  to  his  disci- 
ples,-(-  the  venerable  father  said  to  him  :  "  My  friend, 
you  must  now  become  Doctor  of  the  Holy  Scriptures." 
Luther  drew  back.  The  thought  of  this"  distinguished 
honour  overcame  him.  "  Seek  one  more  worthy  of 
it,"  said  he  ;  "  for  my  part,  I  cannot  consent  to  it." 
The  vicar-general  pressed  the  point.  "  The  Lord  has 
much  to  do  in  the  Church,  he  requires  just  now  young 
and  vigorous  doctors."  "  This  was  said  perhaps  jes- 
tingly/' adds  Melancthon,  uyet  the  event  corresponded 
to  it,  for  usually  many  presages  announce  great  revo- 
lutions.":}: There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Me- 
lancthon here  speaks  of  prophecy,  strictly  so  called. 
The  last  century,  though  remarkable  for  incredulity, 
saw  this  exemplified  : — how  many  presages,  without 
miracles,  preceded  the  revolution  at  the  close  of  that 
century  ! 

"  But  I  arn  weak  and  ailing  ;"  said  Luther  ;  "  I 
have  not  long  to  live.  Look  for  a  strongman."  "The 
Lord  has  work  in  heaven  as  in  earth  ;  dead  or  alive, 
God  requires  you."$ 

"The  Holy  Spirit  alone  can  make  a  doctor  of  di- 
vinity, "||  exclaimed  the  monk,  more  and  more  over- 
come with  fear.  «'  Do  as  your  convent  desires,"  said 
Staupitz,  "  and  what  I  your  Vicar- General  require  you 
to  do,  for  you  have  promised  to  obey  us."  "  But  think 
of  my  poverty,"  resumed  the  friar ;  "  I  have  nothing 
wherewith  to  pay  the  expenses  incident  to  such  a  pro- 
motion." "  Do  not  make  yourself  uneasy  about  that," 
said  his  friend,  "  the  prince  is  so  kind  as  to  take  the 
charges  upon  himself."  Urged  on  all  sides,  Luther 
was  obliged  to  submit. 

It  was  toward  the  summer  of  1512,  Luther  set  out 
for  Leipsic  to  receive  from  the  treasurers  of  the  Elector, 
the  money  requisite  on  his  promotion.  But,  according 
to  court  custom,  the  money  did  not  arrive.  Luther, 
becoming  impatient,  wished  to  depart ;  but  the  obedi- 
ence becoming  the  character  of  a  monk  restrained  him. 
At  last,  on  the  4th  of  October,  he  received  from  Pfe- 
ffinger  and  John  Doltzig,  fifty  florins.  He  gave  them 
a  receipt,  in  which  he  assumed  no  other  designation 
than  monk.  "  I,  Martin,"  said  he,  "  brother  of  the 
order  of  the  Eremites,"1f  Luther  hastened  back  to 
Wittemberg. 

Andrew  Bodenstein  of  Carlstadt  was  at  that  time 
the  Dean  of  the  Faculty  of  Theology.  Carlstadt  is  the 
name  under  which  this  doctor  is  best  known.  He  was 
also  called  the  A.  B.  C.  Melancthon  first  gave  him 
that  name,  alluding  to  the  three  initials  of  his  name. 
Bodenstein  acquired  in  his  native  country  the  first  ele- 
ments of  education.  He  was  of  grave  and  sombre 
character— perhaps  inclined  to  jealousy,  of  unquiet 
temper,  but  very  eager  for  learning,  and  gifted  with 
great  capacity.  He  visited  several  universities  to  en- 

*  Vim  ingenii,  nervos  orationis,  ac  reram  bonitatem  expo- 
sitarum  in  concionibus  admiratus  fuerat.  (Melancthon.  Vita 
Luth.) 

t  Unter  einem  Baum  den  er  mir  und  andern  gezeigt. 
(Math.  6.) 

§  Ihr  lebet  nun  oder  sterbet,  so  darff  euch  Gott  in  seinem 
Rathe.  (Math.  6 ) 

||  Neminem  nisi  Spiritum  Sanctum  creare  posse  doetorum 
theologiae.  (Weismanni  Hist.  Eccles.  i.  p.  1404.) 

1  L.  Epp.  i.  11. 


large  his  knowledge,  and  studied  theology  at  Rome 
itself.  On  his  return  from  Italy  to  Germany,  he  estab- 
lished himself  at  Wittemberg,  and  there  became  doctor 
of  theology.  At  this  time,  as  he  himself  afterwards 
declared,  he  had  not  read  the  Holy  Scriptures.*  This 
trait  gives  a  very  just  idea  of  what  then  constituted 
theology.  Carlstadt,  besides  his  functions  as  professor, 
was  canon  and  archdeacon.  This  was  the  man  who 
was,  one  day,  to  divide  the  Reformation.  He  then 
saw  in  Luther  only  an  inferior ;  but  the  Augustine 
soon  became  an  object  of  his  jealousy.  One  day  he 
remarked,  "  I  will  not  be  less  distinguished  than  Lu- 
ther."! Far  from  anticipating  at  this  time  the  future 
greatness  of  the  young  professor,  Carlstadt  conferred 
on  his  destined  rival  the  first  degree  of  the  university. 

On  the  18th  October,  1512,  Luther  was  made  licen- 
tiate in  theology,  and  took  the  following  oath  : 

"  I  swear  to  defend  the  truth  of  the  Gospel  with  all 
my  strength. "t  The  following  day,  Bodenstein  so- 
lemnly delivered  to  him,  in  presence  of  a  numerous 
assembly,  the  insignia  of  Doctor  in  Theology. 

He  was  made  Biblical  Doctor,  and  not  Doctor  of 
Sentences,  and  was  therefore  specially  bound  to  devote 
himself  to  the  study  of  the  Bible,  instead  of  human 
traditions.  Then  it  was,  as  he  himself  tells  us,  that 
he  espoused  his  well-beloved  and  Holy  Scriptures. $ 
He  promised  to  preach  them  faithfully,  to  teach  them 
in  purity,  to  study  them  all  his  life,  and  to  defend  them 
so  far  as  God  should  enable  him,  by  disputation,  and 
by  writing  against  false  teachers.  || 

This  solemn  vow  was  to  Luther  his  vocation  as  a 
Reformer.  Binding  upon  his  conscience  the  sacred 
obligation  to  investigate  freely,  and  declare  openly 
evangelical  truth,  that  oath  lifted  the  new  made  doctor 
above  the  narrow  bounds  to  which  his  monastic  vow 
might  have  restricted  him.  Called  by  the  University, 
by  his  Sovereign,  in  the  name  of  the  Imperial  Majesty, 
and  of  the  Roman  See  itself,  and  bound  before  God, 
by  the  most  sacred  of  oaths,  he  was  from  that  time  the 
intrepid  herald  of  the  word  of  life.  On  that  memora- 
ble day  Luther  was  installed  Champion  of  the  Bible. 

Therefore  it  is  that  this  oath,  pledged  to  the  holy 
Scriptures,  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  immediate 
causes  of  the  revival  of  the  Church.  The  infallible 
authority  of  the  word  of  God  was  the  first  and  funda- 
mental principle  of  the  Reformation.  Every  reform 
in  detail  afterwards  effected  in  doctrine,  morals,  church 
government,  and  public  worship,  was  but  a  consequence 
of  this  first  principle.  In  these  days  we  can  hardly 
magine  the  sensation  produced  by  this  elementary 
truth,  so  simple,  yet  for  ages  neglected.  A  few  men, 
of  more  enlarged  discernment  than  the  vulgar,  alone 
foresaw  its  important  consequences.  Speedily  the 
courageous  voices  of  all  the  Reformers  proclaimed  this 
powerful  principle,  at  the  sound  of  which  the  influence 
of  Rome  crumbled  into  the  dust :  "  Christians  receive 
no  other  doctrines  than  those  which  rest  on  the  express 
words  of  Christ,  the  apostles,  and  prophets.  No  man, 
nor  any  assembly  of  men,  has  power  to  prescribe  new 
doctrines." 

The  situation  of  Luther  was  changed.  The  call  he 
bad  received  became  to  the  Reformer  as  one  of  those 
extraordinary  commissions  which  the  Lord  entrusted 
to  prophets  under  the  old  dispensation,  and  to  apostles 
under  the  new.  The  solemn  engagement  he  had  con- 
tracted, made  so  profound  an  impression  on  his  soul, 
that  the  recollection  of  this  vow  sufficed,  at  a  later 
period,  to  comfort  him  in  the  midst  of  the  greatest  dan- 

*  Weismann.  Hist.  Eccles.  p.  1416. 

t  Weismann.  Hist.  Eccles.  p.  1416. 

I  Juro  me  veritatem  evangelicam  viriliter  defensurum, 

§  Doctor  biblicus  non  sententiarius.     (Melancth.) 

J|  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xvi.  p.  '2061.— Mathesius,  p.  7. 


LUTHER'S  COURAGE— ATTACKS  THE  SCHOOLMEN— SPALATIN. 


55 


gers  and  the  rudest  conflicts.  And  when  he  saw  all 
Europe  agitated  and  disturbed  by  the  doctrine  he  had 
proclaimed — when  the  accusations  of  Rome,  the  re- 
proaches of  many  pious  men,  and  the  doubts  and  fears 
of  his  own  heart  (so  easily  moved),  might  have  caused 
him  to  falter,  to  fear,  and  fall  into  despondency,  he 
called  to  mind  the  oath  he  had  taken,  and  remained 
firm,  tranquil,  and  rejoicing.  "  I  came  forward,"  said 
he,  "  in  a  critical  moment,  and  I  put  myself  into  the 
Lord's  hands.  Let  his  will  be  done.  Who  asked  of 
him  that  he  would  make  of  me  a  teacher  1  If  he  has 
made  me  such,  let  him  support  me  ;— or,  if  he  change 
his  purpose,  let  him  deprive  me.  This  tribulation  then 
does  not  intimidate  me.  I  seek  but  one  thing — to 
have  his  favour  in  all  he  calls  me  to  do  in  his  work." 
Another  time  he  said,  "He  who  undertakes  anything 
without  a  divine  call  seeks  his  own  glory.  But  I, 
Doctor  Martin  Luther,  was  constrained  to  become  a 
Doctor.  The  Papacy  endeavoured  to  stop  me  in  the 
discharge  of  my  duty,  but  you  see  what  has  happened 
to  it ; — and  much  worse  shall  yet  befall  it ;  they  can- 
not defend  themselves  against  me.  By  God's  help  I 
am  resolved  to  press  on,  to  force  a  passage  through, 
and  trample  dragons  and  vipers  under  foot.  This  will 
begin  in  my  life  time,  and  finish  after  I  arn  gone."* 

From  the  hour  of  this  oath,  Luther  no  longer  sought 
the  truth  for  himself  alone,  but  for  the  Church.  Still 
retaining  his  recollections  of  Rome,  he  perceived  in- 
distinctly before  him  a  path  in  which  he  purposed  to 
go  forward  with  all  the  energy  of  his  soul.  The  spirit- 
ual life  which  hitherto  had  grown  up  within  him,  began 
to  manifest  itself  in  outward  action.  This  was  the 
third  period  of  his  progress.  His  entrance  into  the 
convent  had  turned  his  thoughts  toward  God  ;  the 
knowledge  of  the  remission  of  sins,  and  of  the  righte- 
ousness of  faith,  had  delivered  his  soul  from  bondage. 
The  oath  he  had  now  taken  had  given  him  that  baptism 
by  fire  which  constituted  him  the  Reformer  of  the 
Church. 

The  first  adversaries  he  attacked  were  those  cele- 
brated schoolmen  whom  he  had  studied  so  deeply,  and 
who  then  reigned  supreme  in  every  university.  He 
accused  them  of  Pelagianism  ;  boldly  opposing  Aristotle 
(the  father  of  the  school),  and  Thomas  Aquinas,  he 
undertook  to  hurl  them  from  the  throne  whence  they 
exercised  so  commanding  an  influence,  the  one  over 
philosophy,  and  the  other  over  theology.t 

"  Aristotle,  Porphyry,  the  theologians  of  the  senten- 
ces," said  he,  writing  to  Lange,  "  these  are  the  un- 
profitable study  of  this  age.  I  desire  nothing  more 
ardently  than  to  lay  open  before  all  eyes  this  false  sys- 
tem, which  has  tricked  the  Church,  by  covering  itsell 
with  a  Greek  mask  ;  and  to  expose  its  worthlessness 
before  the  world. "J  In  all  his  public  disputations  he 
was  accustomed  to  repeat — "  The  writings  of  the 
Apostles  and  Prophets  are  more  certain  and  sublime 
than  all  the  sophisms  and  theology  of  the  schools.' 
Such  language  was  new,  but  gradually  people  became 
familiarized  with  it ;  and  about  one  year  after  this  he 
was  able  exultingly  to  write,  "  God  works  among 
us  ;  our  theology  and  St.  Augustine  make  wonderfu 
progress,  and  are  already  paramount  in  our  university 
Aristotle  is  on  the  wane,  and  already  totters  to  his  fall, 
which  is  near  at  hand  and  irreversible.  The  lectures 
on  the  Sentences  are  received  with  utter  distaste 
None  can  hope  for  hearers  unless  he  profess  the  scrip- 
tural theology. "$  Happy  the  university  where  such 
testimony  could  be  given  ! 

*  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxi.  2061. 

t  Aristotelem  in  philosophicis,  Sanctum  Thomam  in  the 
ologicis,  evertendos.  susceperat.     (Pallav.  i.  16.) 
\  Perdita  studia  nostri  saeculi.     (Epp.  i.  15.  8  Feb.  1516.) 
i  Ep.L  57.    May  18,  1517. 


At  the  same  time  that  Luther  attacked  Aristotle,  he 
ook  part  with  Erasmus  and  Reuchlin  against  their 
enemies.  He  entered  into  correspondence  with  those 
reat  men,  and  others  of  the  learned,  such  as  Pirckhei- 
mer,  Mutian,  Hvitten,  who  belonged  more  or  less  to 
he  same  party.  He  formed  also,  at  this  period,  an- 
other friendship,  which  was  yet  more  important  in  its 
nfluence  on  his  after  life. 

There  was  then  at  the  court  of  the  elector  a  person 
•emarkable  for  wisdom  and  candour.  This  was  George 
Spalatin,  a  native  of  Spaltus,  or  Spalt,  in  the  bishopric 
of  Eichstadt.  He  had  been  curate  of  the  village  of 
rlohenkirch,  near  the  forests  of  Thuringia.  He  was 
afterwards  chosen  by  Frederic  the  wise,  as  his  secre- 
ary  and  chaplain,  and  private  teacher  of  his  nephew, 
John  Frederic,  heir  of  the  electoral  crown.  Spalatin 
was  a  man  of  simple  manners,  in  the  midst  of  a  court ; 
imid  in  emergencies,  and  circumspect  and  prudent  as 
lis  master  ;*  contrasting  with  the  energetic  Luther, 
with  whom  he  was  in  daily  communication.  Like 
Staupitz,  he  was  fitted  rather  for  peaceable  than  for 
stirring  times.  Such  men  are  necessary :  they  are 
ike  that  soft  covering  in  which  we  wrap  jewels  and 
crystals,  to  protect  them  from  injury  in  transporting 
them  from  place  to  place.  They  seem  of  no  use,  and 
yet  without  them  the  precious  gems  would  be  broken 
or  lost.  Spalatin  was  not  capable  of  great  actions,  but 
faithfully  and  noiselessly  discharged  the  task  as- 
signed to  him.t  He  was  at  first  one  of  the  principal 
aids  of  his  master  in  collecting  those  relics  of  the  saints 
of  which  Frederic  was  long  an  amateur.  But  by  slow 
degrees  he,  like  his  master,  turned  toward  the  truth. 
The  faith  which  was  then  re-appearing  in  the  Church 
did  not  so  suddenly  lay  hold  on  him  as  on  Luther — • 
be  was  led  on  by  more  circuitous  paths.  He  became 
the  friend  of  Luther  at  the  court,  the  agent  through 
which  matters  of  business  were  transacted  between  the 
Reformer  and  the  princes,the  go-between  of  the  Church 
and  the  state.  The  elector  honored  Spalatin  with  the 
closest  intimacy,  and  in  his  journeys  admitted  him  to 
share  his  carriage,  t  In  other  respects  the  air  of  the 
court  was  often  oppressive  to  the  worthy  Spalatin,  and 
affected  him  with  deep  sadness  ;  he  would  have  wished 
to  leave  all  these  honours,  and  again  to  become  a  sim- 
ple pastor  in  the  woods  of  Thuringia.  But  Luther 
comforted  him,  and  persuaded  him  to  remain  at  his 
post.  Spalatin  acquired  general  esteem.  The  prin- 
ces and  scholars  of  his  age  evinced  the  sincerest  re- 
spect for  him.  Erasmus  "was  accustomed  to  say  "  The 
name  of  Spalatin  is  inscribed  not  only  as  one  of  my 
dearest  friends,  but  of  my  most  revered  protectors,  and 
that  not  on  paper,  but  on  my  heart. "$ 

The  affair  of  Reuchlin  and  the  monks  was  then  mak- 
ing much  noise  in  Germany.  The  most  pious  per- 
sons often  hesitated  which  side  to  take,  for  the  monks 
were  bent  upon  destroying  the  Jewish  books  which 
contained  blasphemies  against  Christ.  The  elector 
commissioned  his  chaplain  to  consult  the  doctor  of 
Wittemberg,  whose  reputation  was  considerable.  Lu- 
ther replied  by  letter,  and  it  is  the  earliest  of  his  letters 
to  the  court  preacher. 

"  What  shall  I  say  1  these  monks  pretend  to  expel 
Beelzebub, — but  it  is  not  by  the  finger  of  God.  I  ne- 
ver fail  to  complain  and  grieve  at  it.  We  Christians 
begin  to  be  wise  in  things  that  are  without,  and  sense- 
less at  home.  ||  There  are,  in  all  the  public  places  of 

*  Secundum  genium  heri  sui.  Weismann.  Hist.  Eccles. 
p.  1434. 

t  Fideliter  et  sine  strepitu  fungens.  (Weismann.  Hist. 
Eccles.  p.  1434. 

|  Qui  cum  principe  in  rheda  sive  lectico  solitus  est  ferri. 
(Corp.  Ref.  i.  33.) 

§  Melch.  Ad.  Vita  Spalat.  p.  100. 

|j  Foris  sapere  ct  domi  desipere.    (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  8.) 


56     HIS  PREACHING— LUTHER  ON  IDOLATRY— ON  SUPERSTITIONS— HIS  CONDUCT. 


our  Jerusalem,  blasphemies  a  hundred  times  worse 
than  those  of  the  Jews,  and  in  every  corner  of  it  spi- 
ritual idols.  We  ought  in  holy  zeal  to  carry  forth  and 
destroy  these  enemies  within.  But  we  neglect  what 
is  most  pressing,  and  the  devil  himself  persuades  us 
to  abandon  our  own  concerns,  while  he  hinders  us  from 
reforming  what  is  amiss  in  others." 

Luther  never  lost  himself  in  this  quarrel.  A  living 
faith  in  Christ  was  that  which  especially  filled  his  heart 
and  life.  *'  Within  my  heart,"  says  he,  "reigns  alone, 
and  must  alone  reign,  faith  in  rny  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
who  alone  is  the  beginning,  the  middle,  and  the  end  of 
the  thoughts  that  occupy  me  day  arid  night."* 

His  hearers  listened  with  admiration  as  he  spoke 
from  the  professor's  chair,  or  from  the  pulpit,  of  that 
faith  in  Christ.  His  instructions  diffused  light.  The 
people  marvelled  that  they  had  not  earlier  acknow- 
ledged truths  which  appeared  so  evident  in  his  mouth. 
"  The  desire  to  justify  ourselves  is  the  spring  of  all 
our  distress  of  heart,"  said  he,  "  but  he  who  receives 
Christ  as  a  SAVIOUR  has  peace,  and  not  only  peace,  but 
purity  of  heart.  All  sanctificatioa  of  the  heart  is  a 
fruit  of  faith.  For  faith  in  us  is  a  divine  work  which 
changes  us,  and  gives  us  a  new  birth,  emanating  from 
God  hmself.  It  kills  Adam  in  us  ;  and,  through  the 
Holy  Spirit,  which  it  communicates,  it  gives  us  a  new 
heart,  and  makes  us  new  men.  It  is  not  by  empty 
speculations,"  he  again  exclaims,  "  but  by  this  practi- 
cal method  that  we  obtain  a  saving  knowledge  of  Jesus 
Christ."f 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Luther  preached,  on  the  Ten 
Commandments,  a  -series  of  discourses,  which  have 
been  preserved  to  us  under  the  name  of  Declamations 
for  the  People.  Doubtless  they  are  not  free  from  er- 
rors. Luther  was  only  gradually  gaining  light :  "  The 
path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining  light,  which  shineth 
more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day."  But  still  what 
truth  in  these  discourses  !  what  simplicity  !  what  elo- 
quence !  how  well  can  we  conceive  the  effect  that  the 
new  preacher  would  produce  on  his  audience  and  on 
his  age.  We  will  cite  only  one  passage  at  the  open- 
ing of  his  discourses. 

Luther  ascended  the  pulpit  of  Wittemberg,  and  read 
these  words :  "  Thou  shalt  have  no  other  gods  than 
Me."  Then  turning  to  the  people,  who  thronged  the 
sanctuary,  he  said  :  "  All  the  sons  of  Adam  are  ido- 
laters, and  guilty  transgressors  of  this  first  command 
ment."t  Doubtless  this  strange  assertion  startled  his 
audience.  He  must  justify  it.  The  speaker  continued 
"  There  are  two  kinds  of  idolatry  ;  the  one  in  outward 
action,  the  other  within  our  hearts. 

"  The  outward,  by  which  man  worships  wood,  stone 
reptiles,  or  stars. 

"The  inward,  by  which  man,  dreading  chastisement, 
or  seeking  his  own  pleasure,  renders  no  outward  wor- 
ship to  the  creature,  but  yet  in  his  heart  loves  it  anc 
trusts  in  it. 

"  But,  what  kind  of  religion  is  this  1  you  do  not  ben 
the  knee  before  riches  and  honour,  but  you  give  them 
your  heart,  the  noblest  part  of  your  nature.      Alas " 
with  your  bodies  you  worship  God,  and  with  your  spi 
rits  the  creature. 

"  This  idolatry  pervades  every  man,  until  he  is  freel; 
recovered  by  faith  that  is  in  Jesus  Christ. 
"  And  how  is  this  recovery  brought  about  1 
"  In  this  way :  Faith  in  Christ  strips  you  of  all  con 
fidence  in  your  own  wisdom,  and  righteousness,  am" 

*  Pref.  ad  Gal. 

t  Non  per  speculationem  sed  per  hanc  viam  practicam. 

j  Omnes  filii  Adae  sunt  idolatrae.— Decem  Praecepta  Wi1 
tembergensi  populo  prasdicata  per  R.  P.  D.  Martinum  Lu 
therum,  Aug.  anno  1516.— (They  were  preached  in  German 
The  quotation  is  from  the  Latia  edition,  i.  p.  1.) 


rength  ;  it  teaches  you,  that  if  Christ  had  not  died 
T  you,  and  saved  you  by  his  death,  neither  you  nor 
ny  created  power  could  have  done  so.  Then  you  be- 
in  to  despise  all  these  things  which  you  see  to  be 
na  vailing.* 

Nothing  remains  but  Jesus — Jesus  only  ;  Jesus, 
Dundantly  sufficient  for  your  soul.  Hoping  nothing 
•om  all  created  things,  you  have  no  depend ance  save 
n  Christ,  from  whom  you  look  for  all,  and  whom  you 

ve  above  all. 

"  But  Jesus  is  the  one  sole  and  true  God..  When 
ou  have  him  for»your  God,  you  have  no  other  gods."f 

It  was  thus  that  Luther  pointed  out  how  the  soul  ia 
rought  to  God,  its  sovereign  good  by  the  Gospel  ; — • 
greeable  to  that  declaration  of  Christ  :  "  I  am  the 

ay,  and  no  man  cometh  unto  the  Father  but  by  me." 

The  man  who  thus  spoke  to  this  generation  was 
urely  intent  not  merely  on  overturning  some  abuses  ; 
is  aim,  above  all,  was  to  establish  true  religion.  His 
fork  was  not  merely  negative  ;  it  was  primarily  posi- 
ive. 

Luther  then  turned  his  discourse  against  the  super- 
titions  which  filled  Christendom  ;  signs  and  mysteri- 
us  omens ;  observances  of  particular  days  and  months  ; 
amiliar  demons,  phantoms,  influences  of  the  stars, 
ncaritations,  metamorphoses,  incubi  and  succubi ; 
jatronage  of  saints,  &c.  &c.  &c.  He  attacked  them 
.11,  one  after  the  other,  and  with  a  strong  arm  cast 
[own  these  false  gods. 

But  it  was  especially  before  the  academy,  before 
hat  youth,  enlightened  and  eager  for  instruction,  that 
"lUther  spread  out  the  treasures  of  the  word  of  God. 

He  so  explained  the  Scriptures,"  says  his  illustrious 
riend,  Melancthon,  "  that,  in  the  judgment  of  all  pious 
nd  enlightened  men,  it  was  as  if  a  new  light  had  arisen 
m  the  doctrine  after  a  long  and  dark  night.  He  pointed 
jut  the  difference  between  the  Law  and  the  Gospel. 
rle  refuted  that  error,  then  predominant  in  the  Church 
and  schools,  that  men,  by  their  own  works,  obtain  re- 
mission of  sins,  and  are  made  righteous  before  God  by 
an  external  discipline.  He  thus  brought  back  the 
icarts  of  men  to  the  Son  of  God.J  Like  John  the 
Baptist,  he  pointed  to  the  Lamb  of  God  who  has  taken 
away  the  sins  of  the  world.  He  explained  that  sin  is 
reely  pardoned  on  account  of  God's  Son,  and  that  man 
receives  this  blessing  through  faith.  He  in  no  way 
nterfered  with  the  usual  ceremonies.  The  established 
discipline  had  not  in  all  his  order  a  more  faithful  obser- 
ver and  defender.  But  he  laboured  more  and  more  to 
make  all  understand  the  grand  essential  doctrines  of 
Conversion  ;  of  the  Forgiveness  of  Sins  ;  of  Faith  ; 
and  of  the  true  consolations  of  the  Cross.  Pious  souls 
were  attracted  and  penetrated  by  the  sweetness  of  this 
doctrine  ;  the  learned  received  it  joyfully. $  One  might 
lave  said  that  Christ,  and  his  Apostles,  and  Prophets, 
had  come  forth  from  darkness,  or  from  some  impure 
dungeon.  II 

The  firmness  with  which  Luther  appealed  to  and 
rested  on  the  Gospel,  gave  great  authority  to  his  teach- 
ing. But  other  circumstances  added  yet  further  to  his 
power.  With  him,  action  corresponded  with  his  words. 
It  was  known  that  these  discourses  were  not  merely 
the  fruit  of  his  lips.f  They  came  from  the  heart,  and 

*  Nisi  ipse  pro  te  mortuus  esset  teque  servaret,  nee  tu,  nee 
omnis  creatura  tibi  posset  prodesse.  (Ibid.) 

t  At  Jesus  est  verus,  unus,  solas  Deus,  quern  cum  habes, 
non  habes  alienum  Deum.  (Ibid.) 

t  Revocavit  igitur  Lutherus  hommum  mentes  ad  filmm  Dei. 
(Melancthon,  Vit.  Luth.) 

\  Hujus  doctrinse  dulcedine  pii  omnes  valde  capieb 
eruditis  gratum  erat.     (Ibid.) 

||  Quasi  ex  tenebris,  carcere,  squalore  educi  Christum,  pro- 

P  T  OraUones  »on  e  labris  nasci,  sed  in  pectore.    (Ibid.) 


GEORGE  SPENLEIN— THE  TRUE  RIGHTEOUSNESS -LUTHER  AND  ERASMUS.    57 


were  practised  in  his  daily  walk.  And  when,  at  a 
later  period,  the  Reformation  burst  forth,  many  influ 
•ential  men,  who  saw  with  grief  the  divisions  of  the 
Church,  won  before-hand  by  the  holy  life  of  the  Re 
former,  and  his  remarkable  genius,  not  only  did  no 
•oppose  him,  but  embraced  the  doctrine  to  which  his 
life  gave  testimony,*  The  more  men  loved  the  Chris 
tian  virtues,  the  more  did  they  incline  toward  the  Re 
former ; — all  the  most  upright  divines  were  in  favour 
of  him.t  This  is  what  those  who  knew  him,  said  o 
him,  and  especially  the  wisest  man  of  his  age,  Melanc- 
ihon,  and.  Luthe^s  celebrated  opponent,  Erasmus.  Envy 
and  detraction  have  dared  to  talk  of  his  dissolute  life, 
Wittemberg  was  changed  by  this  preaching  of  Faith, 
This  city  became  the  focus  of  a  light  which  was  soon 
to  illuminate  Germany,  and  spread  over  the  whole 
Church. 

Luther,  whose  heart  was  tender  and  affectionate, 
desired  to  see  those  whom  he  loved  in  possession  ol 
the  light  which  had  guided  him  in  the  paths  of  peace. 
He  availed  himself  of  all  the  opportunities  he  possess- 
ed as  professor,  teacher,  and  monk,  as  well  as  of  his 
extensive  correspondence,  to  communicate  his  treasure 
to  others.  One  of  his  old  associates  of  the  convent 
of  Erfurth,  the  monk  George  Spenlein,  was  then  in  the 
convent  of  Memmingen,  having,  perhaps,  spent  a  short 
time  at  Wittemberg.  Spenlein  had  commissioned  Lu- 
ther to  sell, some  effects  that  he  had  left  in  his  hands: 
a  cloak  of  Brussels  stuff,  a  work  by  the  doctor  Isenac, 
and  a  monk's  hood.  Luther  carefully  executed  this 
•commission.  "He  got,"  says  he,  "a  florin  for  the 
cloak,  half  a  florin  for  the  book,  and  a  florin  for  the 
hood,"  and  had  forwarded  the  amount  to  the  Father 
Vicar>  to  whom  Spenlein  was  indebted  the  three  florins. 
But  Luther  passed  quickly  from  this  account  of  a 
monk's  effects  to  a  more  important  subject. 

"  I  should  like?"  says  he  to  brother  George,  "  to 
know  how  it  is  with  your  soul !  Is  it  weary  of  its  own 
righteousness  1  In  a  word,  does  it  breathe  freely  1 
and  put  its  trust  in  the  righteousness  of  Christ  1  In 
these  days  pride  has  drawn  many  aside,  and  especially 
those  who  labour  with  all  their  strength  to  be  righteous. 
Not  understanding  the  righteousness  of  God,  which  is 
given  to  us  freely  in  Jesus  Christ,  they  would  stand 
before  him  on  their  own  merits.  But  that  can  never 
be.  When  you  and  I  were  living  together,  you  were 
under  this  delusion,  and  so  was  L  I  contend  against 
it  unceasingly,  and  I  have  not  yet  entirely  overcome 
it." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  brother,  learn  to  know  Christ,  and 
him  crucified1  Learn  to  sing  a  new  song — to  despair 
of  your  own  work,  and  to  cry  unto  him,  Lord  Jesus, 
thou  art  my  righteousness,  and  I  am  thy  sin.  Thou 
feast  take-n  on  thee  what  was  mine,  and  given  to  me 
what  is  thine  ;J  what  thou  wast  not,  thou  becamest, 
that  I  might  become  what  I  was  not.  Beware,  my 
dear  George,  of  aspiring  after  such  a  purity  as  that  thou 
mayest  not  have  to  acknowledge  thyself  a  sinner;  for 
Christ  dwells  only  with  sinners.  He  came  down  from 
heaven,  where  he  abode  with  the  just,  to  dwell  also 
with  sinners.  Meditate  often  on  this  love  of  Christ, 
and  you  will  taste  its  unspeakable  comfort.  If  our 
labours  and  afflictions  -could  give  peace  to  the  con- 
science, why  did  Christ  die  upon  the  cross  1  You  will 
find  peace  in  him  alone  ;  despairing  of  yourself  and  of 
your  works,  and  beholding  with  what  love  he  spreads 

*  Eique,  propter  auctorftatem  qH&m  sanctitate  raorum  antea 
|>epererat,  adsenserunt.  (Ibid.) 

f  Puto  et  hodie  theolegos  omnss  probos  favere  Luthero. 
Erasm.  Epp.  i.  652. 

t  TuDomhreJesuesjnstitiaraea;  ego  autem  sum  peccatum 
tuum^  tu  assmmpsisti  Bream,  etdedisti  »ihi  tuura.  (L.  Ep. 

H 


his  arms  to  you  ;  taking  aU  your  sins  on  himself,  and 
bestowing  on  you  all  his  righteousness. 

Thus,  the  doctrine  of  power,  which  had  already  been 
the  saving  of  the  world  in  the  days  of  the  Apostles, 
and  which  was  a  second  time  to  save  it  in  the  days  of 
the  Reformers,  was  set  forth  by  Luther  fearlessly  and 
clearly.  Reaching  across  many  centuries  of  ignorance 
and  superstition,  he,  in  this,  gave  his  hand  to  St.  Paul. 

Spenlein  was  not  the  only  one  whom  he  sought  to 
instruct  in  this  fundamental  doctrine.  The  little  of 
the  truth  he  found  on  this  subject  in  the  writings  of 
Erasmus  distressed  him.  It  was  desirable  to  enlighten 
on  this  matter  a  man  of  such  great  authority  and  such 
admirable  genius.  But  how  to  do  this.  His  friend  at 
the  court,  the  chaplain  of  the  Elector,  was  much  re- 
spected by  Erasmus  ;  to  him  Luther  addressed  him- 
self thus  :  "  What  displeases  me  in  Erasmus,  that 
man  of  rare  erudition,  is,  that  where  the  Apostle 
speaks  of  the  righteousness  of  works  and  of  the  law, 
he  understands  the  fulfilment  of  the  cerimonial  law. 
The  righteousness  of  the  law  consists  not  alone  in  cere- 
monies, but  in  all  the  works  of  the  Ten  Command- 
ments. When  these  works  are  done  without  faith  in 
Christ,  they  may,  it  is  true,  make  a  Fabricius,  a  Regu- 
lus,  or  a  man  of  perfect  integrity  in  man's  sight,  but 
they,  in  that  case,  are  as  little  entitled  to  the  name  of 
righteousness,  as  the  fruit  of  the  medlar-tree  is  entitled 
to  be  called  a  fig.  For  we  do  not  become  righteous, 
as  Aristotle  asserts,  by  doing  works  of  righteousness, 
but  when  we  are  righteous,  we  do  righteous  works.* 
It  is  necessary  that  the  agent  be  changed,  and  then  the 
works  by  consequence.  Abel  was  first  acceptable  to 
God,  and  then  his  sacrifice  was  accepted."  Luther 
continues  :  *'  I  entreat  you,  fulfil  the  duty  of  a  friend 
and  of  a  Christian,  in  pressing  these  things  on  Erasmus." 
This  letter  is  dated,  "  in  great  haste,  from  the  corner 
of  our  convent,  the  19th  of  October,  1516."  It  exhi- 
bits in  its  true  light  the  relation  between  Luther  and 
Erasmus.  It  shews  the  sincere  interest  he  took  in 
what  he  thought  really  for  the  good  of  that  illustrious 
writer.  Doubtless  at  a  later  period  Erasmus's  opposi- 
tion to  the  truth  obliged  him  to  oppose  him  openly; 
but  he  did  so  only  after  having  sought  to  set  his  adver- 


world,  then,  heard  at  length  ideas  at  once  clear 
and  deep  on  the  nature  of  that  which  is  good.  The 
principle  was  at  last  proclaimed,  that  what  constitutes 
the  real  goodness  of  an  action  is  not  its  outward  cha- 
racter, but  the  spirit  in  which  it  is  performed.  This 
was  aiming  a  death-blow  at  all  the  superstitious  obser- 
vances, which  had  for  centuries  oppressed  the  Church, 
and  prevented  the  Christian  virtues  from  growing  and 
prospering. 

"I  read  Erasmus,"  writes  Luther  elsewhere,  "but 
he  every  day  loses  weight  with  me.  I  love  to  see 
him  rebuke,  with  so  much  learning  and  firmness,  the 
grovelling  ignorance  of  the  priests  and  monks  ;  but  I 
fear  he  does  no  great  service  to  the  doctrine  of  Christ. 
What  is  of  man,  is  nearer  to  his  heart  than  what  is  of 
God.t  We  live  in  critical  times.  To  make  a  good 
awl  judicious  Christian,  it  is  not  enough  to  understand 
Greek  and  Hebrew.  St.  Jerome,  who  knew  five  lan- 
guages, is  inferior  to  St.  Augustine,  who  understood 
>ut  one ;  though  Erasmus  thinks  the  contrary.  I 
carefully  conceal  my  opinion  of  Erasmus,  lest  I  should 
rive  an  advantage  to  his  adversaries.  It  may  be,  that  th« 
Liord  will  give  hint  understanding  in  his  good  time."t 

The  inability  of  man — the  almighty  power  of  God — 

*  Non  enim  juste  agendo  justi  efficimur  :  sed  justi  fiendo  et 
essendo  operamur  justa.  (L.  Ep.  i.  p.  22.) 

t  Humana  prevalent  in  co  plusquam  divina. 

j  Dabit  ei  Dominus  intellectual  suo  forte  tempore  (L. 
Epp.  i.  p.  52.) 


58 


CHRISTIAN  CHARITY— GEORGE  LEIFFER— LUTHER'S  THESES. 


these  were  the  two  truths  that  Luther  sought  to  re- 
establish. That  is  but  a  melancholy  religion,  and  a 
poor  philosophy,  which  directs  man  to  his  own  natural 
strength.  Past  ages  have  made  a  trial  of  that  strength; 
and  while,  in  earthly  things,  man  has  attained  admira- 
ble excellence,  he  has  never  been  able  to  dissipate  the 
darkness  which  hides  God  from  his  soul,  or  to  change 
a  single  inclination  to  evil.  The  highest  attainment 
in  wisdom  of  the  most  aspiring  minds,  or  of  the  souls 
most  eager  after  perfection,  has  been  to  despair  of 
themselves.*  It  is,  therefore,  a  generous,  consoling, 
and  supremely  true  doctrine,  which  discovers  to  us 
our  impotence,  that  it  may  declare  a  power — of  God — 
by  which  we  can  do  all  things ;  and  that  is  a  noble 
Reformation,  which  vindicates  on  earth  the  glory  of 
heaven,  and  pleads  before  man  the  rights  of  the  mighty 
God. 

But  no  one  knew  better  than  Luther  the  intimate 
connection  that  unites  the  free  salvation  which  cometh 
of  God,  with  the  free  works  of  man.  No  one  shewd 
better  than  he,  that  it  is  only  in  receiving  all  from 
Christ,  that  man  gives  freely  to  his  brethren.  He 
ever  presented,  in  the  same  picture,  these  two  pro- 
cedures— that  of  God,  and  that  of  man.  Thus,  after 
having  declared  to  Spenlein  the  righteousness  which 
saves  us,  he  added  :  "  If  thou  firmly  believest  these 
things,  as  thou  oughtest,  (for  cursed  is  he  whosoever 
doth  not  believe  them,)  receive  thine  erring  and  igno- 
rant brethern  as  Jesus  Christ  hath  received  thee.  Bear 
with  them  patiently  ;  make  their  sins  your  own  ;  and 
if  you  have  any  good  thing  to  communicate  to  them, 
do  it.  Receive  you  one  another,  said  the  Apostle,  as 
Christ  also  hath  received  us,  to  the  glory  of  God.  It 
is  a  wretched  righteousness  which  will  not  bear  with 
others,  because  it  deems  them  evil,  and  seeks  the 
solitude  of  the  desert,  instead  of  doing  good  to  such, 
by  long- suffering,  by  prayer,  and  example.  If  thou  art 
the  lily  and  the  rose  of  Christ,  know  that  thy  dwelling 
place  is  among  thorns.  Only  take  heed,  lest  by  im- 
patience, rash  judgments,  and  pride,  thou  thyself 
become  a  thorn.  Christ  reigns  in  the  midst  of  his 
enemies.  If  he  had  desired  to  live  only  among  the  good, 
and  die  only  for  such  as  loved  him,  would  he  have 
died  at  all  ?  and  among  whom  would  he  have  lived  ?" 

It  is  affecting  to  see  how  Luther  himself  put  in 
practice  these  precepts  of  charity.  An  Augustine  of 
Erfurth,  George  Leiffer,  was  exposed  to  many  trials. 
Luther  heard  of  it,  and  a  week  after  he  wrote  this 
letter,  he  went  to  him  with  expressions  of  compassion  : 
"  I  hear,"  said  he,  "  that  you  arc  driven  about  by  many 
tempests,  and  that  your  soul  is  impelled  hither  and 
thither  by  the  waves.  The  cross  of  Christ  is  divided 
over  the  earth,  and  each  one  has  his  share.  Do  not 
you,  refuse  your  portion ;  rather  receive  it  as  a  holy 
relic  ;  not,  indeed,  into  a  gold  or  silver  vase,  but  what 
is  much  preferable,  into  a  heart  of  gold — a  heart  im- 
bued with  meekness.  If  the  wood  of  the  cross  was 
so  sanctified  by  the  blood  and  body  of  Christ,  that  we 
deem  it  the  most  venerable  of  relics,  how  much  more 
should  we  count,  as  holy  relics,  the  wrongs,  persecu- 
tions, sufferings  and  hatred  of  men,  since  they  were 
not  only  touched  by  Christ's  flesh,  but  embraced,  kis- 
sed, and  made  blessed  by  his  boundless  love."t 

The  teaching  of  Luther  bore  fruit.  Many  of  his 
disciples  felt  themselves  impelled  to  a  public  profes- 
sion of  the  truths  which  their  master's  lessons  had 
revealed  to  them.  Among  his  hearers  was  a  young 
scholar,  Bernard  of  Feldkirchen,  professor  of  Aristote- 

*  T'I  ovv ;  f>vvar6v  avanaprrjTov  tivai  rjSij ; — What !  is  it  pos 
sible  to  help  sinning  1  asks  Epictetus,  iv.  12,  19,  A^xavov 
Impossible  !  he  answers. 

t Sanctissimse  reliquiae  .  .  .  deificae  voluntatis  suse 

charitate  amplexae,  osculatae.     (L.  Epp.  i.  18.) 


ian  physics  in  the  university,  and,  five  years  later, 
the  first  of  the  ecclesiastics  who  entered  into  the 
narriage  state. 

Luther  desired  Feldkirchen  to  maintain,  under  his 
)residence,/Aesesin  which  his  principles  were  set  forth. 
The  doctrines  professed  by  Luther  acquired  by  this 
means  additional  publicity.  The  disputation  took 
place  in  1516. 

This  was  Luther's  first  attack  on  the  reign  of  the 
sophists  and  on  the  Papacy,  as  he  says  himself.  Fee- 
ile  as  it  was,  it  cost  him  many  misgivings.  "  I  con- 
sent to  the  printing  of  these  propositions,"  said  he, 
many  years  after,  when  publishing  them  in  his  works, 
'  chiefly  that  the  greatness  of  my  cause,  and  the  suc- 
cess with  which  God  hath  crowned  it,  may  not  lift  me 
up ;  for  they  manifest  abundantly  my  shame,  that  is 
o  say,  the  infirmity  and  ignorance,  the  fear  and  trern- 
jling,  with  which  I  began  this  contest.  I  was  alone  ; 
[  had  thrown  myself  rashly  into  the  affair.  Not  being 
able  to  draw  back,  I  gave  up  to  the  Pope  many  im- 
>ortant  points  ;  I  even  worshiped  his  authority."* 

The  following  were  some  of  these  propositions:! 

"  The  old  man  is  the  vanity  of  vanities  ;  he  is  the 
universal  vanity,  and  he  makes  other  creatures  vain, 
whatever  goodness  may  be  in  them. 

'  The  old  man  is  called  '  the  flesh,'  not  merely 
Because,  he  is  led  by  the  desires  of  the  flesh,  but  also, 
Because  though  he  should  even  be  ehaste,  virtuous, 
nd  just,  he  is  not  born  again  of  God,  by  the  Spirit. 

"  A  man  who  is  a  stranger  to  the  grace  of  God, 
cannot  keep  the  commandments  of  God,  nor  prepare 
limself  wholly,  or  in  part,  to  receive  grace,  but  remains 
necessarily  under  sin. 

"  The  will  of  man,  without  divine  grace,  is  not  free, 
jut  enslaved,  and  willing  to  be  so. 

"  Jesus  Christ,  our  strength,  our  righteousness,  he 
who  searches  the  hearts  and  reins,  is  the  only  discerner 
and  judge  of  our  desserts. 

"  Since  all  things  are  possible  through  Christ  to  him 
;hat  believeth,  it  is  superstitious  to  seek  for  other  help, 
either  in  man's  will  or  in  the  saints. "t 

This  disputation  made  a  great  noise,  and  it  has  been 
considered  as  the  commencement  of  the  Reformation. 

The  moment  drew  nigh  when  that  Reformation 
was  to  burst  forth.  God  hastened  the  preparation  of 
the  instrument  he  designed  to  use.  The  Elector 
laving  built  a  new  church  at  Wittemberg,  and  gave  it 
he  name  of  All  Saints,  despatched  Staupitz  to  the 
Low  Countries  to  collect  relics  to  enrich  the  new 
temple.  The  Vicar-general  commissioned  Luther  to 
ake  his  place  in  his  absence,  and,  in  particular,  to  make 
a  visitation  to  forty  monasteries  of  Misnia  and  Thu- 
ingia. 

Luther  went  first  to  Grimma,  and  thence  to  Dresden. 
Everywhere  he  endeavoured  to  establish  the  truths  he 
lad  discovered,  and  to  enlighten  the  members  of  his 
order.  "  Do  not  join  yourself  to  Aristotle,"  said  he 
to  the  monks,  "or  to  the  other  teachers  of  a  misleading 
philosophy,  but  apply  yourselves  to  the  reading  of  the 
word  of  God.  Seek  not  your  salvation  in  your  own 
strength  and  good  works,  but  in  the  merits  of  Christ, 
and  in  the  grace  of  God."§ 

An  Augustine  monk  of  Dresden  had  eloped  from 
his  convent,  and  was  residing  at  Mentz,  where  the 
prior  of  the  Augustines  had  received  him.  Luther 
wrote  to  the  prior,!!  desiring  him  to  send  back  this  stray 

*  Sed  etiam  ultro  adorabam.    (L.  Opp.  lat.  i.  p.  60.) 

t  L.  W.  (L.)  xviii.  p.  142,  and  in  the  Latin  works.  Tom.  i. 
p.  61. 

J  Cum  credent!  omnia  sint,  auctore  Christo,  possibilia,  su 
perstitiosum  est,,  humano  arbitrio,  aliis  sanctis,  alia  deputari 
auxilia.  (Ibid.) 

§  Hilscher,  Luthers  Anwesenheit  in  Alt-Dresden,  1728. 

II 1  May,  1516.    Epp.  i.  p.  20. 


HIS  VISITATION— PLAGUE  AT  WITTEMBERG— ELECTOR  AND  RELICS. 


59 


sheep  ;  and  he  added  these  words  of  truth  and  charity  : 
'•  I  know — I  know  that  it  cannot  be  but  that  offences 
must  come.  It  is  no  wonder  when  man  falls,  but  it  is 
a  miracle  when  he  rises  and  continues  standing.  Peter 
feJl  that,  he  might  know  that  he  was  a  man.  Even  at 
this  day  we  see  cedars  of  Lebanon  falling.  The 
angels,  even,  (difficult  as  it  is  to  conceive  it,)  fell  in 
heaven,  and  Adam  in  Paradise.  Why,  then,  should 
we  wonder,  when  a  reed  is  shaken  by  the  whirlwind, 
or  a  flickering  taper  is  extinguished] 

From  Dresden,  Luther  repaired  to  Erfurth,  and  re- 
appeared, to  exercise  the  functions  of  Vicar-general  in 
that  same  convent,  where,  eleven  years  before,  he  had 
wound  up  the  clock,  opened  the  gates,  and  swept  the 
floor  of  the  church.  He  placed  in  the  post  of  prior  of 
the  convent  his  friend  the  bachelor,  John  Lange,  a 
man  of  learning  and  piety,  but  austere  in  his  disposition. 
Therefore  it  was  he  exhorted  him  to  affability  and 
patience.  "  Put  on,"  said  he,  writing  to  him  shortly 
after,  "  put  on  a  spirit  of  meekness  toward  the  prior 
of  Nuremberg.  It  is  proper  that  you  should  do  so, 
since  the  prior  has  assumed  a  harsh  and  bitter  tone. 
Bitterness  is  not  expelled  by  bitterness — that  is  to  say, 
the  devil  is  not  cast  out  by  the  devil ;  but  the  sweet  over- 
comes and  expels  the  bitter — in  other  words,  the  finger 
of  God  casts  out  devils."*  Perhaps  we  may  regret 
that  Luther  himself,  on  some  occasions,  forgot  to  follow 
these  excellent  directions. 

At  Neustadt,  on  the  Orla,  there  was  nothing  but 
disunion.  Disturbances  and  dissensions  reigned  in  the 
convent.  The  whole  body  of  the  monks  were  in  open 
war  with  their  prior.  They  beset  Luther  with  their 
complaints.  The  prior  Michael  Dressel — or  Tornator, 
as  Luther  calls  him,  translating  his  name  into  Latin — 
enumerated  to  the  Doctor  all  his  grievances.  "  Oh, 
for  peace  !"  said  the  prior.  "  You  seek  peace,"  said 
Luther,  "  but  it  is  only  the  peace  of  the  world,  and 
not  the  peace  that  is  of  Christ.  Do  you  not  know  that 
our  God  has  set  His  peace  in  the  rnidst  of  opposition  1 
He  whom  nobody  disturbs  has  not  peace,  but  he  who, 
harrassed  by  all  men,  arid  by  the  things  of  this  life, 
bears  all  tranquilly  and  joyfully  ;  he  it  is  that  has  the 
true  peace.  You  cry,  with  Israel,  peace,  peace,  when 
there  is  no  peace.  Say  rather  with  Christ,  the  cross, 
the  cross,  and  there  will  be  no  cross  :  for  the  cross 
ceases  to  be  a  cross,  when  we  can  say,  with  love  :  '  0, 
blessed  cross  !  there  is  no  wood  like  thine  !'  "t  On 
his  return  to  Wittemberg,  Luther,  desiring  to  put  a 
stop  to  these  dissensions,  allowed  the  monks  to  elect 
another  prior.  Luther  returned  to  Wittemberg  after 
six  weeks'  absence.  What  he  had  witnessed  saddened 
him  :  but  his  journey  gave  him  a  better  knowledge  of 
the  Church  and  of  the  world,  and  more  confidence  in 
his  intercourse  with  mankind,  besides  offering  many 
opportunities  of  pressing  the  fundamental  truth,  that 
"  Holy  Scripture  alone  shows  us  the  way  to  heaven," 
and  at  the  same  time  exhorting  the  brethern  to  live 
holily,  and  at  peace  one  with  another.}:  Doubtless  a 
plenteous  seed  was  sown  in  the  different  Augustine 
convents  during  that  journey  of  the  Reformer.  The 
monastic  orders,  which  had  long  been  the  support  of 
Rome,  did  more,  perhaps,  for  the  Reformation  than 
against  it.  This  is  especially  true  of  the  Augustines. 
Almost  all  the  men  of  liberal  and  enlightened  piety 
who  were  living  in  the  cloisters,  turned  toward  the 
Gospel.  A  new  and  generous  blood  seemed  to  circu- 
late through  these  orders,  which  were  as  the  arteries 
of  the  Catholic  body  in  Germany.  In  public,  little  was 

*  L.  Epp.  i.  p.  36.  Non  enim  asper  asperum,  id  est  non  dia' 
bolus  diabolura,  sed  suavis  asperum,  id  est  digitus  Dei  ejicit 
demoma. 

t  Tarn  cito  enim  crux  cessat  esse  crux  quam  cito  Isetus  dix- 
eris  :  Crux  benedicta  !  inter  ligna  nullum  tale.  (Epp.  i.  27.) 

t  Heiliglich,  friedlich  und  zuchtig.    (Math.  p.  10.) 


as  yet  heard  of  the  new  ideas  of  the  Augustine  of 
Wittemberg;  while  they  were  already  the  chief  subject 
of  conversation  in  chapters  and  monasteries.  Moro 
than  one  cloister  was,  in  this  way,  the  nursery  of  the 
Reformers.  When  the  great  struggle  came,  pious 
and  brave  men  came  forth  from  their  retirement,  and 
exchanged  the  solitude  of  monkish  life  for  the  active 
service  of  ministers  of  God's  word.  Even  as  early  as 
this  visit  of  inspection,  in  1516,  Luther  aroused  by  his 
words  many  a  drowsy  spirit.  Hence  that  year  has 
been  named  "  the  Morning  Star  of  the  Reformation." 

Luther  now  resumed  his  usual  occupation.  He  was 
at  this  period  overwhelmed  with  labour.  Besides  his 
duties  as  professor,  preacher,  and  confessor,  he  was 
burthened  with  many  temporal  concerns  of  his  order 
and  convent.  "  I  require  almost  continually,"  said  he, 
"  two  secretaries  ;  for  I  do  scarce  anything  else  all 
day  long  than  write  letters.  I  am  preacher  to  the 
convent,  reader  of  prayers  at  table,  pastor  and  parish 
minister,  director  of  studies,  vicar  of  the  priory,  (that 
is  to  say,  prior  ten  times  over,)  inspector  of  the  fish- 
ponds of  Litzkau,  counsel  to  the  inns  of  Herzberg  at 
Torgau,  lecturer  on  St.  Paul,  and  commentator  on  the 
Psalrns.  Seldom  have  I  time  to  say  my  prayers,  or  to 
sing  a  hymn  ;  not  to  mention  my  struggle  with  flesh, 
and  blood,  the  devil  and  the  world.  See  what  an  idle 
man  I  am  !"* 

About  this  time  the  plague  showed  itself  at  Wittem- 
berg. A  great  number  of  the  students  and  doctors 
quitted  the  town.  Luther  remained.  "  I  do  not  very 
well  know,"  wrote  he  to  his  friend  at  Erfurth,  "  whe- 
ther the  plague  will  surfer  me  to  finish  the  Epistle  to 
the  Galatians.  Quick  and  sudden  in  its  attacks,  it 
makes  great  havoc,  especially  among  the  young.  You 
advise  me  to  flee — but  whither  shall  I  flee  1  I  hope 
the  world  will  not  go  to  pieces  if  brother  Martin  should 
fall.f  If  the  plague  spreads,  I  will  send  the  brethern 
away  in  all  directions,  but  for  my  part  I  am  placed  here  ; 
obedience  does  not  allow  me  to  leave  the  spot  until 
He  who  called  me  hither  shall  call  me  away.  Not 
that  I  am  above  the  fear  of  death,  (for  I  am  not  the 
Apostle  Paul,  but  only  his  commentator,)  but  I  trust 
the  Lord  will  deliver  me  from  the  fear  of  it."  Such 
was  the  firm  resolution  of  the  Doctor  of  Wittemberg. 
He  whom  the  plague  could  not  force  to  retire  a  single 
step,  would  he  draw  back  from  the  fear  of  Rome? 
would  he  recede  in  the  prospect  of  a  scaffold  1 

The  same  courage  that  Luther  evinced  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  most  formidable  evils,  he  manifested  before 
the  great  ones  of  the  world.  The  Elector  was  well 
satisfied  with  the  Vicar-general.  He  had  reaped  a 
rich  harvest  of  relics  in  the  Low  Countries.  Luther 
gave  an  account  of  it  to  Spalatin.  This  affair  of  the 
relics  is  singular  enough,  occurring  as  it  did  at  the 
moment  when  the  Reformation  was  about  to  open. 
Assuredly  the  Reformers  did  not  see  clearly  whither 
they  were  tending.  The  Elctor  deemed  that  nothing 
less  than  a  bishopric  was  a  reward  commensurate  with 
the  services  of  the  Vicar-general.  Luther,  to  whom 
Spalatin  wrote  on  the  subject,  highly  disapproved  of  the 
suggestion.  "  There  are  many  things,"  answered  he, 
"  that  are  pleasing  to  your  prince,  which  yet  displeases 
God.  I  do  not  deny  that  he  is  skilled  in  the  concerns 
of  the  world,  but  in  what  relates  to  God.  and  the  salva- 
tion of  souls,  I  consider  him  altogether  blind,  as  well 
as  his  adviser,  PfefRnger.  I  do  not  say  that  behind 
his  back,  like  a  calumniator ;  I  do  not  conceal  my 
opinion  from  them  ;  for  I  am  at  all  times  ready  myself 
to  tell  them  both  to  their  faces.  Why  will  you," 
continued  ho,  "  seek  to  surround  that  man  (Staupitz) 

*  Epp.  i.  p.  41  to  Lange,  26  Oct.  1516. 
t  Quo  fugiam  ?  spero  quod  non  corruet  orbis  ruente  fratre 
Martino.     (Epp.  i.  p.  42,  26  Oct.  1516.) 


60 


SPALATIN— DUKE  GEORGE— LUTHER'S  SERMON— EMSER. 


with    all   the  heavings    and    tempests    of  episcopal 
cares?"* 

The  elector  did  not  take  amiss  the  frankness  of  Lu- 
ther. "  The  prince,"  wrote  Spalatin,  often  speaks  of 
you  in  honorable  terms."  Frederic  sent  the  monk 
some  stuff  for  a  gown.  It  was  of  very  fine  cloth.  "  It 
would  be  too  fine,"  said  Luther,  if  it  were  not  a  prin- 
ce's gift.  I  am  not  worthy  that  any  man  should  think 
of  me,  much  less  a  prince,  and  so  noble  a  prince. 
Those  are  most  useful  to  me  who  think  worst  of  me.t 
Present  my  thanks  to  our  prince  for  his  favour,  but 
know  that  I  desire  neither  the  praise  of  thyself  nor  of 
others  ;  all  the  praise  of  man  is  vain,  the  praise  that 
cometh  of  God  being  alone  true.*' 

The  worthy  chaplain  would  not  confine  himself  to 
his  functions  at  the  court.  He  wished  to  make  him- 
self useful  to  the  people,  but,  like  many  others  in  all 
ages,  he  wished  to  do  it  without  offence,  without  irri- 
tating any  one,  and  so  as  to  conciliate  general  favour. 
"  Point  out  to  me,"  said  he,  in  a  letter  to  Luther, 
"  some  writing  to  translate,  but  one  that  shall  give  ge- 
neral satisfaction,  and  at  the  same  time  be  useful." 
"Agreeable  and  useful  !"  replied  Luther,  "  that  is  be- 
yond my  skill.  The  better  things  are,  the  less  they 
please.  What  is  more  salutary  than  Christ  1  and  yet 
he  is  to  most  a  savour  of  death.  You  will  say  that 
what  you  intend  is  to  be  useful  to  those  who  love  Christ 
—  then  cause  them  to  hear  his  voice  ;  you  will  thus  be 
agreeable  and  useful  —  never  doubt  it  —  but  to  a  small 
number,  for  the  sheep  are  but  rare  in  this  dreary  region 
of  wolves.":*: 

Luther,  however,  recommended  to  his  friend  the  ser- 
mons of  Tauler,  the  Dominican.  "  I  never  saw,"  said 
he,  "  either  in  Latin  or  in  our  language,  a  theology 
more  sound  or  more  conformable  to  the  Gospel.  Taste 
them  and  see  how  gracious  the  Lord  is,  but  not  till  you 
have  first  tasted  and  experienced  how  bitter  is  every- 
thing in  ourselves.  "$ 

It  was  in  the  course  of  the  year  1517,  that  Luther 
became  connected  with  Duke  George  of  Saxony.  The 
house  of  Saxony  had  at  that  time  two  chiefs.  Two 
princes,  Ernest  and  Albert,  carried  off  in  their  child- 
hood from  the  castle  of  Altenburg,  by  Kunz  of  Kau- 
fungen,  had,  by  the  treaty  of  Leipsic,  been  acknow- 
ledged as  the  founders  of  the  two  houses  which  still 
bear  their  names.  The  Elector  Frederic,  son  of  Er- 
nest, was,  at  the  period  we  are  recording,  the  head  of 
the  Ernestine  branch,  as  his  cousin,  Duke  George,  was 
head  of  the  Albertine  branch.  Dresden  and  Leipsic 
were  situated  in  the  states  of  this  duke,  and  he  himself 
resided  in  the  former  of  these  cities.  His  mother, 
Sidonia,  was  daughter  of  the  King  of  Bohemia,  George 
Podibrad.  The  long  struggle  which  Bohemia  had 
maintained  with  Rome,  since  the  time  of  John  Huss, 
nad  had  some  influence  on  the  Prince  of  Saxony.  He 
had  often  manifested  a  desire  of  a  Reformation.  "  He 
sucked  it  with  his  mother's  milk,"  said  they  ;  "  he  is, 
by  his  nature,  an  enemy  to  the  clergy.  "||  He  annoyed, 
in  many  ways,  the  bishops,  abbots,  canons,  and  monks: 
and  his  cousin,  the  Elector  Frederic,  often  had  to  in 
terpose  in  their  behalf.  It  must  have  seemed  tha 
Duke  George  would  be  the  warmest  patron  of  a  Re 
formation.  The  devout  Frederic,  on  the  contrary,  who 
had  in  early  life  assumed,  in  the  holy  sepulchre,  the 
spurs  of  Godfrey,  and  armed  himself  with  the  long  an< 
heavy  sword  of  the  conqueror  of  Jerusalem,  making 

*  Multa  placent  principi  tuo,  quae  Deo  displicent  (L.  Epp 


i.  p.  25.) 
f 


Si  mihi  maxime  prosunt  qui  mei  pessimc  meminerint 
(L.  Epp.  i.  p.  45.) 

£  Quo  sunt  aliqua  aalubriora,  eo  minus  placent.  (L.  Epp. 
p.  46.) 

&  Quam  amarum  cst,  quicquid  nos  sumus.    (Ibid.) 

I  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  p.  1849. 


ath  to  fight  for  the  Church,  like  that  valiant  knight, 
eemed  marked  out  to  be  the  most  ardent  champion 
f  Rome.  But  in  what  pertains  to  the  Gospel,  all  the 
alculations  of  human  wisdom  are  often  deceived.  The 
ery  reverse  ensued.  The  Duke  would  have  taken 
easure  in  bringing  down  the  Church  and  the  clergy, 
i  humbling  the  bishops,  whose  princely  retinue  much 
xceeded  his  own  ;  but  to  receive  into  his  heart  the 
octrine  of  the  Gospel,  which  was  to  humble  him — 

confess  himself  a  guilty  sinner,  incapable  of  being 
aved  except  by  grace — was  quite  another  thing.  He 
vould  have  willingly  reformed  others,  but  he  had  no 
lea  of  reforming  himself.  He  would  perhaps  have 
ut  his  hand  to  the  work,  to  oblige  the  Bishop  of  Mentz 
o  limit  himself  to  one  bishopric,  and  to  have  only 
aurteen  horses  in  his  stables,  as  he  said  more  than 
nee  ;*  but,  when  he  saw  one  altogther  unlike  himself 
?pear  as  the  Reformer — when  he  beheld  a  plain  monk 
ndertake  this  work,  and  the  Reformation  gaining 
round  among  the  people — the  proud  grandson  of  the 
[ussite  King  became  the  most  violent  adversary  of  the 
Leform  to  which  he  had  shown  himself  favourable. 

In  the  month  of  July,  1517,  Duke  George  requested 
taupitz  to  send  him  a  learned  and  eloquent  preacher, 
'taupitz  sent  Luther,  recommending  him  as  a  man  of 
real  learning  and  irreproachable  conduct.  The  prince 
nvited  him  to  preach  at  Dresden,  in  the  chapel  of  the 
astle,  on  St.  James  the  Elder's  day. 
The  day  came.  The  duke  and  his  court  repaired  to  the 
bapel  to  hear  the  preacher  from  Wittemberg.  Luther 
eized  with  joy  the  opportunity  of  giving  his  testimony  to- 
le  truth  before  such  an  assembly.  He  chose  as  his  text 
le  gospel  of  the  day  :  "  Then  the  mother  of  Zebedee's 
hildren  came  to  him,  with  her  sons,"  &c.  (Matt.  xx. 
0.)  He  preached  on  the  desires  and  unreasonable 
rayers  of  men,  and  then  proceeded  to  speak  with  en- 
rgy  on  the  assurance  of  salvation.  He  rested  it  on 
bis  foundation  ; — that  they  who  hear  the  word  of  God 
nd  believe  it,  are  bhe  true  disciples  of  Christ,  elect 
;nto  eternal  life.  Then  he  spoke  of  free  election ;  he 
hewed  that  this  doctrine,  viewed  in  connection  with 

hrist's  work,  has  power  to  dispel  the  terrors  of  con- 
cience,  so  that  men,  instead  of  fleeing  far  from  the 
loly  God,  in  the  consciousness  of  their  unworthinessr 
re  brought  by  grace  to  seek  refuge  in  Him.  In  con- 
lusion,  he  related  a  story  of  three  virgins,  from  which 
ie  deduced  edifying  instructions. 

The  word  of  truth  made  a  profound  impression  on 
he  hearers.  Two  of  them,  especially,  seemed  to  pay 
>articular  attention  to  the  sermon  of  the  monk  of  Wit- 
emberg.  The  first  was  a  lady  of  respectable  appear- 
ance, seated  on  the  benches  of  the  court,  and  on  whose 
eatures  might  be  traced  a  deep  emotion.  This  was 
tfadame  de  la  Sale,  lady  of  the  bedchamber  to  the 
duchess.  The  other  was  Jerome  Emser,  licentiate  of 
canon  law,  and  secretary  and  counsellor  to  the  duke. 
Smser  was  gifted  with  talents  and  extensive  acquire- 
nents.  A  courtier,  a  skilful  politician,  he  would  have 
wished,  at  once,  to  satisfy  two  opposite  parties — to  pass 
at  Rome  as  a  defender  of.  the  Papacy,  and,  at  at  the 
same  time,  shine  among  the  learned  men  of  Germany. 
But  beneath  this  dexterous  policy,  lay  hid  much  vio- 
lence of  character.  It  was  the  chapel  of  the  castle  of 
Dresden,  that  was  the  scene  of  the  first  meeting  of  Lu- 
ther and  Emser,  who  were  destined  afterward  to  break 
more  than  one  lance  together. 

The  dinner  hour  sounded  in  the  castle,  and  soon  the 
ducal  family  and  the  different  persons  of  the  court  were 
assembled  round  the  table.  The  conversation  naturally 
turned  on  the  morning  preacher.  "  How  did  you  like 
the  sermon  ?"  said  the  duke  to  Madame  de  la  Sa.e. 

»  L.  Opp-  (W.)  xxii.  p.  1849. 


THE  SUPPER— FREE  WILL— THESES. 


61 


««  If  I  could  but  hear  one  other  such  sermon,"  answered 
she,  "  I  would  die  in  peace."  "  And  I,"  replied  Duke 
George,  angrily,  "  would  give  something  not  to  have 
heard  it ;  for  such  sermons  are  good  for  nothing,  and 
serve  only  to  encourage  men  in  sin." 

The  master  having  thus  made  known  his  opinion, 
the  courtiers  gave  vent  to  their  dissatisfaction.  Each 
was  ready  with  his  remark.  Some  asserted,  that  in 
Luther's  story  of  the  three  virgins,  he  had  in  his  eye 
three  ladies  of  the  court ;— hereupon  much  talk  and 
whispering  ensued.  The  three  ladies  were  rallied  on 
the  circumstance  of  the  monk  of  Wittemberg  haying, 
as  they  said,  publicly  pointed  them  out.*  "  He  is  an 
ignorant  fellow,"  said  some.  "  A  proud  monk,"  said 
others.  Each  one  criticised  the  sermon  in  his  own 
manner,  and  made  the  preacher  say  what  he  pleased. 
The  truth  had  fallen  in  the  midst  of  a  court  little 
prepared  to  receive  it.  Every  one  mangled  it  at  his 
will.  But,  while  the  word  of  God  was  thus,  to  some, 
an  occasion  of  falling,  it  was  to  the  lady  of  the  bedcham- 
ber a  corner-stone  of  edification.  One  month  afterward, 
she  fell  sick,  embraced  with  confidence  the  grace  of 
the  Saviour,  and  died  with  joy.f 

As  to  the  Duke,  it  was  not  perhaps  in  vain  that  he 
heard  this  testimony  to  the  truth.  Whatever  had  been 
his  opposition  to  the  Reformation  during  his  life,  he  is 
known  to  have  declared,  on  his  death-bed,  that  he  had 
no  other  hope  than  in  the  merits  of  Christ. 

It  was  a  matter  of  course  that  Eraser  should  do  the 
honours  to  Luther  in  the  name  of  his  master.  He 
invited  him  to  supper.  Luther  declined.  But  Emser 
pressed  him  till  he  assented.  Luther  expected  to  meet 
only  a  few  friends,  but  he  soon  saw  it  was  a  trap  laid 
for  him.J  A  master  of  arts  of  Leipsic,  and  several 
Dominicans,  were  with  the  Prince's  secretary.  The 
master  of  arts,  full  of  confidence  in  himself,  and  hatred 
against  Luther,  accosted  him  with  a  friendly  and  gentle 
air,  but  soon  lost  his  temper,  and  talked  loudly.^  The 
debate  was  opened.  The  discussion  turned,  says 
Luther,  on  the  solemn  trifling  of  Aristotle  and  St.  Tho- 
mas.H  In  conclusion,  Luther  challenged  the  master 
of  arts  to  define,  with  all  the  learning  of  the  Thomists, 
in  what  obedence  to  God's  commandments  consisted. 
The  master  of  arts,  though  puzzled,  put  a  good  face 
upon  it.  "  Pay  me  my  fees  first,"  said  he  holding  out 
his  hand,  "  Da  pastum,"  as  though  he  were  called  on 
to  give  a  formal  lecture,  treating  the  guests  as  his 
scholars.  "  At  this  ridiculous  reply,"  adds  the  Refor- 
mer, "  we  all  laughed  outright,  and  hereupon  we  se- 
parated." 

During  this  conversation,  a  Dominican  had  listened 
at  the  door.  He  wanted  to  enter,  that  he  might  spit 
in  Luther's  face.T  He,  however,  restrained  himself; 
but  publicly  boasted  of  it  afterward.  Ernser,  delight- 
ed to  see  his  guests  contending  with  each  other,  while 
he  himself  appeared  to  maintain  a  guarded  medium, 
took  pains  to  excuse  himself  to  Luther  on  the  incident 
of  the  evening.**  The  latter  returned  to  Wittemberg. 

He  again  applied  himself  laboriously  to  work.  He 
was  preparing  six  or  seven  young  divines,  who  were 
about  to  undergo  examination  for  license  to  teach 
What  most  pleased  him  was,  that  their  promotion 
would  contribute  to  the  downfall  of  Aristotle.  "  1 
would  lose  no  time,"  said  he,  "  in  adding  to  the  num- 
ber of  his  opponents."!!  And  with  this  object,  he, 

*  Has  tres  postea  in  aula  principis,  a  me  notatas  garrierunt. 
(L.  Epp.  i.  p.  85. 
f  Keith.  Leb.  Luth.  p.  32. 

j  Inter  medias  me  insidias  conjectum.     (L.  Epp  i.  85.) 
^  In  me  acriter  et  clamose  invectus  est.     (Ibid.) 
||  Super  Aristotelis  et  Thomae  nugis.     (Ibid.) 
ff  Ne  prodiret  et  in  faciem  mei  spueret.     (Ibid. 
**  Enixe  sese  excusavit. 
ft  Cujus  vellem  hostes  cito  quamplurimos  fieri.  (Epp.i.  59.) 


about  that  time,  published  some  theses,  which  deserve 
our  attention. 

The  Freedom  of  the  Will  was  his  high  subject. 
He  had  already  slightly  touched  on  it  in  the  theses  of 
Feldkirchen ;  he  now  went  more  fully  into  the  ques- 
tion. Ever  since  the  promulgation  of  Christianity,  a 
controversey  has  been  carried  on,  with  more  or  less 
keenness,  between  the  two  doctrines  of  the  liberty  and 
the  bondage  of  the  human  will.  Certain  scholastic 
writers,  as  Pelagius,  and  others,  had  taught  that  man 
possessed,  from  his  own  nature,  a  freedom  of  will,  or  the 
power  of  loving  God  and  doing  righteousness.  Luther 
denied  this  doctrine  ;  not  in  order  to  deprive  man  of 
liberty,  but  that  he  might  lead  him  to  obtain  it.  The  point 
of  dispute,  then,  is  not,  as  has  been  commonly  said, 
between  liberty  and  slavery  ;  it  is  between  a  liberty 
proceeding  from  man's  nature,  and  a  liberty  that  cometh 
of  God.  The  one  party  who  called  themselves  the 
advocates  of  liberty,  say  to  man :  "  Thou  hast  the 
power  to  do  right,  thou  hast  no  need  of  more  liberty  !" 
the  others  who  have  been  styled  the  partizans  of  slavery, 
say  to  him  the  very  reverse :  "  True  liberty  is  what 
thou  needest,  and  it  is  what  God  offers  to  thee  in  the 
Gospel."  On  the  one  side  they  talk  of  liberty  so  as 
to  perpetuate  servitude  ;  on  the  other  they  proclaim  to 
us  our  bondage,  that  we  may  obtain  liberty.  Such  has 
been  the  contest  in  St.  Paul's  time ;  in  the  days  of 
St.  Augustine  ;  and,  again,  in  the  days  of  Luther. 
The  one  party  congratulating  man  on  his  freedom, 
would,  in  effect,  reconcile  him  to  slavery  ;  the  other, 
showing  how  his  fetters  may  be  struck  off,  are  the  true 
advocates  of  liberty. 

But  we  should  be  deceiving  ourselves,  if  we  are  to 
sum  up,  in  this  question,  the  whole  of  the  Reformation. 
It  is  one,  and  only  one,  of  many  doctrines  that  the  pro- 
fessor of  Wittemberg  contended  for.  It  would  espe- 
cially be  a  strange  error  to  assert,  that  the  Reformation 
was  a  fatalism — an  opposition  to  the  notion  of  human 
liberty.  It  was  a  noble  emancipation  of  the  mind  of 
man.  Bursting  the  many  cords  with  which  the  hier- 
archy had  tied  down  the  thoughts  of  men — restoring 
the  ideas  of  liberty,  of  right  of  free  investigation — it 
liberated  its  own  age,  ourselves,  and  the  remotest 
posterity.  And  let  none  say  :  "  True,  the  Reforma- 
tion did  liberate  man  from  all  human  despotism  ;  but, 
at  the  same  time,  reduced  him  to  slavery  in  other 
things,  by  proclaiming  the  sovereignty  of  grace." 
Doubtless,  its  aim  was  to  bring  the  human  will  into 
harmony  with  the  divine  will,  to  subject  the  former 
absolutely  to  the  latter,  and  to  blend  them  together. 
But  where  is  the  philosopher  who  does  no  know, 
that  perfect  conformity  to  the  will  of  God,  is  the 
sole,  sovereign,  and  complete  liberty  ;  and  that  man 
will  never  be  truly  free,  until  perfect  righteousnes 
and  unchanging  truth  reign  unrivalled  in  his  heart 
and  mind. 

The  following  are  a  few  of  the  ninety-nine  proposi- 
tions which  Luther  put  forth  in  the  church  against  the 
Pelagian  rationalism  of  the  scholastic  theology  : 

"  It  is  true  that  man,  who  is  become  '  a  bad  tree,' 
can  but  will,  and  do  what  is  evil. 

"  It  is  false  that  the  will,  left  to  itself,  can  do  good 
as  well  a&evil ;  for  it  is  not  free,  but  led  captive. 

"  It  is  not  in  the  power  of  man's  will  to  purpose  or 
not  purpose  all  that  is  suggested  to  him. 

"  Man,  by  nature,  cannot  wish  that  God  should  be 
God.  He  would  prefer  that  himself  should  be  God, 
and  that  God  should  not  be  God. 

"The  excellent,  infallible,  and  sole  preparation  for 
grace,  is  the  election  and  the  everlasting  predestina- 
tion of  God.* 

*  Optima  et  infallibilis  ad  gratiam  preparatio  et  unica  di* 


62 


THESES— NATURE  OF  MAN— LUTHER'S  CHALLENGE. 


"  It  is  false  to  say,  that  man,  if  he  does  all  in  his 
power,  dissipates  the  obstacles  to  divine  grace. 

"  In  one  word,  nature  possesses  neither  a  pure  rea- 
son nor  a  good  will.* 

"  On  man's  part,  there  is  nothing  that  goes  before 
grace — nothing  but  impotency  and  rebellion. 

"  There  is  no  moral  virtue  without  pride  or  sadness 
— that  is  to  say,  without  sin. 

"  From  first  to  last,  we  are  not  the  masters  of  our 
actions,  but  their  slaves. 

"  We  do  not  become  righteous  by  doing  that  which 
is  righteous  :  but  having  become  righteous,  we  do  that 
which  is  righteous. 

"He  who  says  a  theologian,  unacquainted  with  logic, 
is  an  heretic  and  empiric,  makes  an  empirical  and  he- 
retical assertion. 

"  There  is  no  form  of  reasoning  or  syllogism  suited 
to  the  things  of  God. f 

"  If  the  syllogistic  method  were  applicable  to  divine 
things,  the  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Trinity  would  be  known 
and  not  believed. 

"  In  a  word,  Aristotle  is  to  theology  as  darkness  is 
to  light. 

"  Man  is  more  opposed  to  the  grace  of  God  than  to 
the  law  itself. 

"  He  who  is  destitute  of  the  grace  of  God  sins  in- 
cessantly, though  he  should  neither  kill,  nor  steal,  nor 
commit  adultery. 

"  He  sins  because  he  does  not  fulfil  the  law  spiritu- 
ally. 

"It  is  the  righteousness  of  hypocrites  not  to  kill, 
and  to  commit  adultery  in  outward  acts. 

"  The  law  of  God  and  the  will  of  man  are  two  op- 
posites,  which,  without  the  grace  of  God,  cannot  be 
made  to  meet.J 

"  What  the  law  prescribes  the  will  never  seeks, 
unless,  from  fear  or  interest,  it  effects  to  seek  it. 

"  The  law  is  a  task-master  of  our  will,  which  is  not 
brought  into  obedience,  save  only  by  the  young  child 
born  unto  us.§  (Isa.  9  :  6.) 

"  The  law  makes  sin  to  abound,  for  it  irritates  and 
repels  the  will. 

"  But  the  grace  of  God  makes  righteousness  to 
abound  '  by  Jesus  Christ ;'  who  leads  us  to  love  the 
law. 

"  All  the  works  of  the  law  seem  fair  without,  but 
are  sin  within. 

"The  will,  when  it  turns  toward  the  law,  without 
the  grace  of  God,  does  so  only  for  its  own  self-pleas- 
ing. 

"  They  are  still  under  the  curse  who  do  the  works 
of  the  law. 

"  Blessed  are  all  they  who  do  works  of  the  grace  of 
God. 

"  The  law,  which  is  good,  and  in  which  we  have  life, 
is  the  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  by  the 
Holy  Ghost. 

"  Grace  is  ix>t  given,  that  works  may  be  done  of- 
tener  or  easier ;  but  because,  without  grace,  no  work 
of  love  can  be  done. 

"  To  love  God  is  to  abhor  ourselves,  and  to  have 
nothing  out  of  God."H 

Thus,  Luther  attributes  to  God  all  good  that  man 
can  do.  It  is  not  enough  to  repair  and  patch  up,  if  we 

nitio  eat  aaterna  Dei  electio  et  prsedestinatio.  (L.  Opp.  lat- 
6.) 

*  Breviter  nee  rectum  dictamcn  habet  natura  nee  bonam 
voluntatem.  (Ib.) 

f  Nulla  forma  syllogistica  tenet  in  terminis  divinis.  (L. 
Opp.  lat.  i  56.) 

j  Lex  et  voluntas  sunt  adversarii  duo  sine  gratia  Dei  impla- 
cabiles  (Ib.  p.  57.) 

§  Lex  est  exactor  voluntatis,  qui  non  superatur  nisi  per 
Parvulum  qui  natus  est  nobis.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  i.  67.) 

11  L.  Opp.  Lips.  xvii.  p.  143  j  and  Opp.  lat.  i. 


may  so  speak  man's  will ;  an  entirely  new  wiH  mast 
be  given  him.  God  only  could  have  said  this  ;  because 
God  only  could  accomplish  it.  This  is  one  of  the 
greatest  and  most  important  truths  that  the  human 
mind  can  receive. 

But  Luther,  while  proclaiming  the  impotence  of  man, 
did  not  fall  into  a  contrary  extreme  to  that  he  opposed. 
He  says,  in  his  8th  thesis  ;  "  It  does  not  follow,  from 
this  statement,  that  the  will  is  in  its  nature  bad  :  that 
is,  that  its  nature  is  that  of  evil  itself,  as  the  Maniche- 
ans  have  asserted."*  The  nature  of  man  was  at  first 
essentially  good  :  it  has  turned  aside  from  good — that 
is  from  God — and  inclined  to  evil.  Still  its  holy  and 
glorious  origin  remains,  and  it  may,  by  the  power  of 
God,  be  restored  and  renewed.  The  office  of  Chris- 
tianity is  thus  to  restore  it.  It  is  true,  the  Gospel 
represents  man  in  a  condition  of  humiliation  and  impo- 
tence, but  between  two  states  of  glory  and  of  grandeur 
— a  past  glory,  from  which  he  has  been  hurled,  and  a 
future  glory,  to  which  he  is  called.  That  is  the  real 
truth :  man  knows  it,  and  on  the  slightest  considera- 
tion, he  perceives  that  all  that  is  said  of  his  present 
purity,  power,  and  glory,  is  nothing  but  a  fiction, 
designed  to  lull  and  soothe  his  pride. 

Luther,  in  his  theses,  protested  not  only  against  the 
pretended  goodness  of  man's  will,  but  also  against  the 
asserted  illumination  of  his  understanding  in  regard 
to  divine  things.  The  schoolmen  had  exalted  human 
reason  as  well  as  man's  will.  This  theology,  as  it  had 
been  represented  by  some  of  its  teachers,  was,  at  the 
bottom,  a  kind  of  rationalism.  The  propositions  that 
we  have  quoted,  shew  this.  We  might  suppose 
them  directed  against  the  rationalism  of  our  day.  In 
the  theses,  which  were  the  signal  of  the  Reformation, 
Luther  censured  the  Church  and  the  popular  supersti- 
tions which  had  overloaded  the  Gospel  with  indulgen- 
ces, purgatory,  and  so  many  other  abuses.  In  the 
theses  we  have  now  quoted,  he  attacked  the  schools 
and  rationalism  which  had  retrenched  from  the  Gospel 
the  doctrine  of  God's  sovereign  grace.  The  Refor- 
mation turned  against  rationalism  before  it  attacked 
superstition.  It  proclaimed  the  rights  of  God  before 
it  lopped  off  the  excrescences  of  man.  It  was  positive 
— before  it  was  negative.  This  has  not  been  suffici- 
ently adverted  to,  and  yet,  if  we  do  not  keep  it  in  mind, 
it  is  impossible  to  appreciate  this  religious  revolution 
and  its  true  nature. 

However  this  may  be,  the  truths  that  Luther  had  just 
expressed  with  so  much  energy,  were  quite  new  to 
his  hearers.  To  maintain  these  theses  at  Witternberg 
would  have  been  an  easy  thing.  His  influence  pre- 
vailed there.  It  might  have  been  said  that  he  was 
choosing  a  field  in  which  he  knew  no  antagonist  could 
oppose  him.  By  offering  battle  in  another  university, 
he  was  giving  them  a  wider  publicity  ;  and  it  was 
through  publicity  that  the  Reformation  was  to  be 
effected.  He  chose  Erfurth,  whose  divines  had  shewn 
themselves  so  offended  with  him. 

He  therefore  sent  these  theses  to  John  Lange,  prior 
of  Erfurth,  and  wrote  to  him  thus :  "  My  anxiety  to 
know  your  mind  on  these  paradoxes  is  great,  perhaps 
extreme.  I  strongly  suspect  that  your  theologians  will 
consider  as  paradox,  and  even  as  cacodox,  that  which  I 
must  always  consider  very  orthodox. t  Tell  me,  there- 
fore, your  opinion,  as  soon  as  you  can.  Pray  inform 
the  faculty  of  theology,  and  all  others,  that  I  am  ready 
to  come  among  you,  and  publicly  maintain  these  propo- 
sitions, either  in  the  University  or  in  the  monastery." 
It  does  not  appear  that  Luther's  challenge  was  accepted. 
The  monks  of  Erfurth  contented  themselves  with  let- 

*  Nee  igitur  sequitur  quod  sit  naturaliter  mala,  id  est  natura 
mali,  secudum  Manichteos.     (Ibid.) 
I  Imo  cacodoxa  videri.     (L.  Epp.  i.  60.) 


DOCTOR  ECK— THE  THESES  SENT  TO  ECK— EFFECT  OF  THE  THESES. 


63 


ting  him  know  that  these  theses  had  greatly  displeased 
them. 

But  he  determined  to  send  them  into  another  part  of 
Germany.  He  turned  his  eyes,  for  that  purpose,  on 
one  who  played  a  remarkable  part  in  the  history  of  the 
Reformation,  and  whose  character  it  is  necessary  we 
should  understand. 

John  Meyer,  a  distinguished  professor,  was  then 
teaching  at  the  university  of  Ingolstadt,  in  Bavaria. 
He  was  a  native  of  Eck,  a  village  of  Suabia,  and  was 
commonly  called  Doctor  Eck.  He  was  a  friend  of 
Luther,  who  highly  esteemed  his  talents  and  informa- 
tion. He  was  full  of  intelligence,  well  read,  and  gifted 
with  an  extraordinary  memory.  To  his  learning  he 
united  eloquence.  His  action  and  voice  expressed 
the  liveliness  of  his  genius.  Eck  was,  as  to  talent,  in 
southern  Germany,  what  Luther  was  in  the  north. 
They  were  the  two  most  distinguished  theologians  of 
that  period,  though  differing  widely  in  their  tendency, 
as  the  sequel  showed.  Ingolstadt  almost  rivalled  Wit- 
temberg.  The  reputation  of  the  two  Doctors  drew 
from  all  sides,  to  their  respective  universities,  a  crowd 
of  students  eager  to  listen  to  their  lectures.  Their 
personal  qualities,  not  less  than  their  learning,  endeared 
them  to  their  scholars.  The  character  of  Eck  has 
been  censured.  An  incident  of  his  life  will  shew,  that, 
at  this  period  at  least,  his  heart  was  not  closed  against 
generous  impulses. 

Among  the  students,  whom  his  reputation  had  at- 
tracted to  Ingolstadt,  was  a  young  man  named  Urban 
Regius,  born  on  the  banks  of  one  of  the  Swiss  lakes. 
He  had  studied  first  at  the  university  of  Friburg  in 
Brisgau.  Arriving  at  Ingolstadt,  whither  the  reputa- 
tion of  Eck  had  attracted  him,  Urban  there  attended 
courses  of  philosophy,  and  won  the  doctor's  favour. 
Obliged  to  provide  for  his  own  necessities,  he  found 
himself  compelled  to  take  charge  of  the  education  of 
some  young  nobles.  He  was  not  only  to  overlook  their 
conduct  and  studies,  but  himself  to  buy  for  them  the 
books  and  clothes  they  needed.  These  youths  were 
accustomed  to  dress  well  and  live  expensively.  Regius, 
uneasy  at  this,  requested  the  parents  to  remove  their 
sons.  "  Take  courage,"  answered  they.  His  debts 
increased,  his  creditors  became  clamorous,  he  knew 
not  what  would  become  of  him.  The  Emperor  was 
then  collecting  an  army  against  the  Turks.  Some  re- 
cruiting parties  arrived  at  Ingolstadt.  In  his  despera- 
tion Urban  enlisted.  He  appeared  in  the  ranks  in  mili- 
tary garb,  at  a  review  preparatory  to  marching.  Just 
then,  Doctor  Eck  arrived  in  the  square  with  some  of 
his  colleagues.  To  his  great  surprise,  he  recognised 
his  student  in  the  midst  of  the  recruits.  "  Urban  Re- 
gius !"  said  he,  approaching  him,  and  fixing  on  him  a 
scrutinizing  eye.  "  I  am  here  !"  answered  the  con- 


script. "  What,  I  pray  you,  is  the  cause  of  this 
change?"  The  young  man  told  his  story.  "I  will 
settle  the  affair,"  answered  Eck.  He  then  proceeded 
to  take  away  his  halberd,  and  bought  his  discharge  from 
the  recruiting  officers.  The  parents,  threatened  by  the 
Doctor  with  the  displeasure  of  their  prince,  sent  the 
necessary  funds  for  their  children's  expenditure.  Urban 
Regius  was  preserved  to  become,  at  a  later  period,  one 
of  the  supporters  of  the  Reformation. 

It  was  Doctor  Eck  that  Luther  pitched  on  to  make 
known  in  the  southern  states,  his  theses  on  Pelagianism 
and  the  Rationalism  of  the  schools.  He  did  not,  how- 
ever, send  them  direct  to  the  Professor  of  Ingolstadt, 
but  addressed  them  to  their  common  friend,  the  worthy 
Christopher  Scheurl,  town-clerk  of  the  city  of  Nurem- 
berg, requesting  him  to  forward  them  to  Eck,  at  Ingol- 
stadt, which  was  not  far  from  Nuremberg.  "  I  send 
you,"  said  he,  "  my  propositions,  (merely  paradoxical, 
or  even  kakistodoxical  as  they  seem  to  many  ;)  com- 
municate them  to  our  dear  Eck,  that  learned  and  sa- 
gacious man,  that  I  may  know  what  he  thinks  of  them."* 
It  was  thus  Luther  then  spoke  of  Doctor  Eck  ;  such 
was  the  friendship  which  united  them.  Luther  was 
not  the  first  to  break  off  this  good  understanding. 

But  the  combat  was  not  to  be  fought  on  that  field. 
These  theses  turned,  it  may  be  thought,  on  doctrines 
of  higher  importance  than  those  which,  two  months 
after,  set  the  whole  Church  in  a  flame.  And  yet,  not- 
withstanding Luther's  challenge,  they  passed  unnoticed. 
They  were  read,  at  the  most,  in  the  precincts  of  the 
school,  and  they  made  no  sensation  beyond  its  bounds. 
The  reason  of  this  was  that  they  contained  only  aca- 
demic propositions,  and  theological  doctrines  ;  whilst 
the  theses  which  followed  had  immediate  reference  to  an 
evil,  which  had  grown  up  in  the  midst  of  the  people, 
and  overflowed  Germany  on  all  sides.  So  long  as  Lu- 
ther confined  himself  to  bringing  forth  long- forgotten 
doctrine,  no  response  was  heard.  When  he  pointed  to 
the  abuses  which  offended  all  minds,  every  one  gave 
ear. 

Nevertheless,  Luther,  in  both  cases,  did  but  design 
to  raise  one  of  those  theological  discussions  then  fre- 
quent in  the  University.  His  ideas  did  not  range  be- 
yond that  circle.  He  had  no  thought  of  becoming  a 
Reformer.  He  had  a  low  opinion  of  his  own  powers, 
and  his  humility  even  amounted  to  mistrust  and  anxiety. 
"I  deserve — such  is  my  ignorance" — said  he,  "  nothing 
better  than  to  be  hidden  in  a  corner,  unknown  to  every 
one."t  But  a  powerful  hand  drew  him  forth  from  this 
corner,  where  he  would  have  wished  to  remain  unknown 
to  the  world.  An  occurrence,  which  did  not  depend 
on  Luther's  will,  threw  him  on  the  field  of  battle,  and 
the  conflict  began.  It  is  this  providential  circumstance 
that  the  progress  of  events  calls  on  us  to  narrate. 


BOOK  III. 

THE  INDULGENCES,  AND  THE  THESES. 
1517—1518. 


A  GREAT  agitation  reigned,  at  that  time,  among  the 
people  of  Germany.  The  Church  had  opened  a  vast 
market  on  the  earth.  Judging  from  the  crowd  of  buy- 
ers, and  the  noise  and  jests  of  the  dealers,  we  might 
call  it  a  fair  ;  but  a  fair  held  by  monks.  The  merchan- 
dise they  extolled,  offering  it  at  a  reduced  price,  was, 
said  they,  the  salvation  of  souls  ! 


The  dealers  passed  through  the  country  in  a  gay  car- 
riage, escorted  by  three  horsemen,  in  great  state,  and 
spending  freely.  One  might  have  thought  it  some  dig- 
nitary on  a  royal  progress,  with  his  attendants  and 

*  Eccio  nostro  eruditissimo  et  ingeniosissimo  viro  exhibete, 
ut  audiam  et  videam  quid  vocet  illas.    (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  63.) 
t  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xviii.  1944. 


64 


THE  INDULGENCES,  AND  THE  THESES— TETZEL. 


officers,  and  not  a  common  dealer,  or  a  begging  monk 
When  the  procession  approached  a  town,  a  messenger 
waited  on  the  magistrate  :  "  The  grace  of  God,  and  of 
the  Holy  Father,  is  at  your  gates  !"  said  the  envoy 
Instantly  every  thing  was  in  motion  in  the  place.  The 
clergy,  the  priests,  the  nuns,  the  council,  the  school- 
masters, the  trades,  with  their  flags — men  and  women, 
young  and  old,  went  forth  to  meet  the  merchants,  with 
lighted  tapers  in  their  hands,  advancing  to  the  sound 
of  music,  and  of  all  the  bells  of  the  place  ;  "  so  that," 
says  an  historian,  "  they  could  not  have  given  a  grander 
welcome  to  God  himself.  Salutations  being  exchanged, 
the  whole  procession  moved  toward  the  church.  The 
pontiffs  bull  of  grace  was  borne  in  front,  on  a  velvet 
cushion,  or  on  cloth  of  gold.  The  chief  vender  of 
indulgences  followed,  supporting  a  large  red  wooden 
cross  ;  and  the  whole  procession  moved  in  this  man- 
ner, amidst  singing,  prayers,  and  the  smoke  of  incense. 
The  sound  of  organs,  and  a  concert  of  instruments, 
received  the  monkish  dealer  and  his  attendants  into 
the  church.  The  cross  he  bore  with  him  was  erected 
in  front  of  the  altar :  on  it  was  hung  the  Pope's  arms  ; 
and,  as  long  as  it  remained  there,  the  clergy  of  the 
place,  the  penitentiaries,  and  the  sub-commissioners, 
with  white  wands  in  their  hands,  came  every  day  after 
vespers,  or  before  the  salutation,  to  do  homage  to  it.* 
This  great  bustle  excited  a  lively  sensation  in  the  quiet 
towns  of  Germany. 

One  person  in  particular  drew  the  attention  of  the 
spectators  in  these  sales.  It  was  he  who  bore  the  great 
red  cross,  and  had  the  most  prominent  part  assigned  to 
him.  He  was  clothed  in  the  habit  of  the  Dominicans, 
and  his  port  was  lofty.  His  voice  was  sonorous,  and 
he  seemed  yet  in  the  prime  of  his  strength,  though  he 
was  past  his  sixty-third  year.f  This  man,  who  was 
the  son  of  a  goldsmith  of  Leipsic  named  Diez,  bore 
the  name  of  John  Diezel  or  Tetzel.  He  had  studied 
in  his  native  town,  had  taken  his  bachelor's  degree  in 
1487,  and  entered  two  years  later  into  the  order  of  the 
Dominicans.  Numerous  honours  had  been  accumulat- 
ed on  him.  Bachelor  of  Theology,  Prior  of  the  Do- 
minicans, Apostolical  Commissioner,  Inquisitor,  (here- 
tics praviiatis  inquisitor,)  he  had,  ever  since  the  year 
1502,  filled  the  office  of  an  agent  for  the  sale  of  indul- 
gences. The  experience  he  had  acquired  as  a  su- 
bordinate functionary  had  very  early  raised  him  to  the 
station  of  chief  comrnisioner.  He  had  an  allowance  of 
80  florins  per  month,  all  his  expenses  defrayed,  and  he 
was  allowed  a  carriage  and  three  horses  ;  but  we  may 
readily  imagine  that  his  indirect  emoluments  far  ex- 
ceeded his  allowances.  In  1507,  he  gained  in  two 
days  at  Freyberg  2000  florins.  If  his  occupation  re- 
sembled that  of  a  mountebank,  he  had  also  the  morals 
of  one.  Convicted  at  Inspruck  of  adultery  and  abomin- 
able profligacy,  he  was  near  paying  the  forfeit  of  his 
life.  The  Emperor  Maximilian  had  ordered  that  he 
should  be  put  into  a  sack  and  thrown  into  the  river. 
The  Elector  Frederic  of  Saxony  had  interceded  for  him, 
and  obtained  his  pardon.}  But  the  lesson  he  had  re- 
ceived had  not  taught  him  more  decency.  He  carried 
about  with  him  two  of  his  children.  Miltitz,  the  Pope's 
legate,  cites  the  fact  in  one  of  his  letters.^  It  would 
have  been  hard  to  find  in  all  the  cloisters  of  Germany 
a  man  more  adapted  to  the  traffic  with  which  he  was 
charged.  To  the  theology  of  a  monk,  and  the  zeal  and 
spirit  of  an  inquisitor,  he  united  the  greatest  effrontery. 
What  most  helped  him  in  his  office  was  the  facility  he 


*  Instruction  of  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz  to  the  sul>com- 
missioners  of  the  Indulgence,  &c.  art.  8. 

f  Ingenio  ferox  et  corpore  robustus.     (Cochl.  6.) 

j  Welchen  Churfurst  Friederich  vom  Sack  zu  Inspruck  er 
beten  Hatte.  (Mathes.  x.) 

^  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xv.  862, 


displayed  in  the  invention  of  the  strange  stories  with 
which  the  taste  of  the  common  people  is  generally  pleas- 
ed. No  means  came  arnrss  to  him  to  fill  his  coffers. 
Lifting  up  his  voice,  and  giving  loose  to  a  coarse  volu- 
bility, he  offered  his  indulgences  to  all  comers,  and 
excelled  any  salesman  at  a  fair  in  recommending  his 
merchandise.* 

As  soon  as  the  cross  was  elevated  with  the  Pope's 
arms  suspended  upon  it,  Tetzel  ascended  the  pulpitr 
and,  with  a  bold  tone,  began,  in  the  presence  of  tha 
crowd  whom  the  ceremony  had  drawn  to  the  sacred 
spot,  to  exalt  the  efficacy  of  indulgences.  The  people 
listened  and  wondered  at  the  admirable  virtues  ascribed 
to  them.  A  Jesuit  historian  says  himself,  in  speaking 
of  the  Dominican  friars,  whom  Tetzel  had  associated 
with  him  : — "  Some  of  these  preachers  did  not  fail,  as 
usual,  to  distort  their  subject,  and  so  to  exaggerate  the 
value  of  the  indulgences,  as  to  lead  the  people  to  be- 
lieve that,  as  soon  as  they  gave  their  money,  they  were 
certain  of  salvation  and  of  the  deliverance  of  souls  from 
purgatory."f 

If  such  were  the  pupils,  we  may  imagine  what 
lengths  the  master  went.  Let  us  hear  one  of  these 
harangues,  pronounced  after  the  erection  of  the  cross. 

"  Indulgences,"  said  he,  "  are  the  most  precious  and 
sublime  of  God's  gifts. 

"  This  cross" — (pointing  to  the  red  cross) — "  has  as 
much  efficacy  as  the  cross  of  Jesus  Christ.! 

"  Draw  near,  and  I  will  give  you  letters,  duly  sealed, 
by  which  even  the  sins  you  shall  hereafter  desire  to 
commit,  shall  be  all  forgiven  you. 

"  I  would  not  exchange  my  privileges  for  those  of 
Saint  Peter  in  heaven,  for  I  have  saved  more  souls 
with  my  indulgences  than  he  with  his  sermons. 

'  There  is  no  sin  so  great  that  the  indulgence  can- 
not remit  it,  and  even  if  any  one  should  (which  is 
doubtless  impossible;  ravish  the  Holy  Virgin  Mother 
of  God,  let  him  pay — let  him  only  pay  largely,  and  it 

i        11     i  r  •  \    •  t  J      r     J  O       J  ' 

shall  be  forgiven  him.§ 

"  Even  repentance  is  not  indispensable. 

"  But  more  than  all  this  :  indulgences  save  not  the 
living  alone,  they  also  save  the  dead. 

"  Ye  priests,  ye  nobles,  ye  tradesmen,  ye  wives,  ye 
naidens,  and  ye  young  men,  hearken  to  your  departed 
Barents  and  friends,  who  cry  to  you  from  the  bottom- 
ess  abyss  :  «  We  are  enduring  horrible  torment !  a 
small  alms  would  deliver  us  ; — you  can  give  it,  and 
you  will  not !'  " 

A  shudder  ran  through  his  hearers  at  these  words, 
uttered  by  the  formidable  voice  of  the  mountebank 
monk. 

"  This  very  moment,"  continued  Tetzel,  "  that  the 
money  clinks  against  the  bottom  of  the  chest,  the  soul 
escapes  from  purgatory  and  flies  free  to  heaven. i! 

"  O,  senseless  people,  and  almost  like  to  beasts,  who 
do  not  comprehend  the  grace  so  richly  offered  !  This 
day,  heaven  is  on  all  sides  open.  Do  you  now  refuse 
o  enter  1  When  then  do  you  intend  to  come  in  1 
This  day  you  may  redeem  many  souls.  Dull  and  heed- 
ess  man,  with  ten  groschen  you  can  deliver  your  father 
from  purgatory,  and  you  are  so  ungrateful  that  you  will 
not  rescue  him.  In  the  day  of  judgment,  my  con- 

*  Circumferuntur  venales  indulgentise  in  his  regionibus  a 
Tecelio,  Dotninicano  impudentissimo  sycophanta  (Me- 
ancth.  Vita  Luth.) 

t  Hist,  de  Lutheranisme  par  le  P.  Maimbourg  de  la  com- 
>agnie  de  Jesus.    1681,  p.  21. 
t  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  1303. 

i  Tetzel  defended  and  maintained  this  assertion  in  his  an. 
itheses,  published  the  same  year.  (Th.  99,  100,  101.) — Sub- 
xommissariis,  insuper  ac  prajdicatoribus  veniarum  imponere, 
ut  si  quis  per  impossibile  Dei  genetricem  semper  virginem 
violasset,  quod  eundem  indulgentiarum  vigore  absolvcre  pos- 
sent,  luce  clarior  est.  (Positiones  fratris  I.  Tezelii  quibus 
defendit  indulgentias  contra  Lutherum.) 
11  Th.56.  (Ibid.) 


TETZEL— CONFESSION— THE  SALE— PUBLIC  PENANCE. 


65 


science  will  be  clear  ;  but  you  will  be  punished  the 
more  severely  for  neglecting  so  great  a  salvation.  I 
protest  that  though  you  should  have  only  one  coat,  you 
ought  to  strip  it  off  and  sell  it,  to  purchase  this  grace. 
Our  Lord  God  no  longer  deals  with  us  as  God.  He 
has  given  all  power  to  the  Pope  !" 

Then,  having  recourse  to  other  inducements,  he 
added  : — "  Do  you  know  why  our  most  Holy  Lord 
distributes  so  rich  a  grace  1  The  dilapidated  Church 
of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  is  to  be  restored,  so  as  to  be 
unparalleled  in  the  whole  earth.  That  church  contains 
the  bodies  of  the  holy  apostles,  Peter  and  Paul,  and  a 
vast  company  of  martyrs.  Those  sacred  bodies,  owing 
to  the  present  condition  of  the  edifice,  are  now,  alas  ! 
continually  trodden,  flooded,  polluted,  dishonoured,  and 
rotting  in  rain  and  hail.  Ah  !  shall  those  holy  ashes 
be  suffered  to  remain  degraded  in  the  mire!"* 

This  touch  of  description  never  failed  to  produce  an 
impression  on  many  hearers.  There  was  an  eager  de- 
sire to  aid  poor  Leo  X.  who  had  not  the  means  of  shel- 
terincr  from  the  rain  the  bodies  of  St.  Peter  and  St. 
Paul ! 

The  speaker  next  proceeded  to  declaim  against  the 
disputers  who  should  question,  and  the  traitors  who 
should  oppose,  his  mission : — "  I  declare  them  all  ex- 
communicated !" 

Then  turning  to  the  docile  souls  among  his  hearers, 
and  impiously  perverting  the  Scriptures :  "  Blessed," 
said  he,  "  blessed  are  the  eyes  that  see  what  you  see, 
for  I  tell  you,  that  many  prophets  and  many  kings  have 
desired  to  see  the  things  which  ye  see,  and  have  not 
seen  them,  and  to  hear  the  things  which  ye  hear,  and 
have  not  heard  them."  And  as  a  finish  to  his  address, 
pointing  to  the  strong  box  in  which  the  money  was  re- 
ceived, he  generally  concluded  his  moving  discourse, 
by  thrice  calling  on  the  people :  "  Bring  your  money  ! 
bring  money  !  bring  money  !"  "He  uttered  this  cry 
with  such  a  dreadful  bellowing,"  observed  Luther, 
"  that  one  might  have  thought  some  wild  bull  was 
rushing  among  the  people,  and  goring  them  with  his 
horns. "t  The  moment  he  had  made  an  end,  he  came 
down  the  steps  of  the  pulpit,  ran  toward  the  strong  box, 
and  in  sight  of  all  the  people,  threw  in  a  piece  of  silver 
with  a  loud  sound.  J 

Such  were  the  discourses  that  Germany  heard,  with 
astonishment,  in  the  days  when  God  was  preparing 
Luther. 

The  sermon  ended,  the  indulgence  was  considered 
as  having  "  established  its  throne  in  the  place  with  due 
solemnity."  Confessionals,  surmounted  with  the  pope's 
arms,  were  prepared.  The  sub-commissioners  and 
confessors  chosen  were  held  to  represent  the  apostolic 
penitentiaries,  or  absolving  priests  of  Rome,  at  the  pe- 
riod of  a  great  jubilee  :  and  on  each  of  their  confes- 
sionals were  inscribed  their  names  and  titles.§ 

Then  the  people  came  in  crowds  to  the  confessors 
They  came,  not  with  contrite  hearts,  but  with  money 
in  their  hands.  Men,  women,  the  young,  the  poor,  arid 
those  who  lived  by  alms, — every  one  then  found  money. 
The  absolving  priest,  after  again  setting  forth  the  in- 
dulgence, thus  addressed  the  penitents  "  How  much 
money  can  you,  in  your  conscience,  spare  to  obtain  so 
perfect  a  remission!"  "  This  question,"  said  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Mentz,  in  his  instructions  to  the  commission- 
ers, "  must  be  put  at  the  moment,  in  order  that  the 
penitents  may  be  better  disposed  to  contribute." 
These  conditions  fulfilled  were  all  that  was  neces- 

*  Instruction  of  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  &c. 

t  llesolut.  on  the  32d  Thesis. 

{  Teutzel,  Reformationgesch.  Myconii  Ref.  Hist.  In 
struction  of  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz  to  the  Sub-commis 
sinners  of  the  indulgence. — Theses  of  Luther. 

$  Instruction,  &c.  5.  69. 


sary.  In  the  pope's  bull,  something  was  indeed  said 
of  the  repentance  of  the  heart,  and  the  confession  ot  the 
;  but  Tetzel  and  his  companions  cautiously  ab- 
stained from  all  mention  of  these  ;  otherwise  their  cof- 
rers  might  have  remained  empty.  The  archiepiscopal 
nstructions  forbade  even  to  mention  conversion  or  con- 
rition.  Three  great  benefits  were  proclaimed.  It  is 
sufficient  to  notice  the  first.  "  The  first  benefit  we  an- 
nounce," said  the  commissioners,  acting  on  their  in- 
structions, "  is  the  complete  pardon  of  all  sins  ;  and  it 
s  not  possible  to  speak  of  any  greater  benefit  than  this, 
since  man  who  lives  in  sin  is  deprived  of  the  divine 
"avour,  and  by  this  complete  pardon  he  recovers  the 
grace  of  God.*  Now  we  affirm,  that  to  obtain  these 
rreat  blessings,  it  is  only  necessary  to  purchase  an  in- 
dulgence, t  And  as  to  those  who  desire  to  deliver 
souls  from  purgatory,  and  to  procure  for  them  the  for- 
giveness of  all  their  sins,  let  them  put  their  money  in 
,he  chest ;  but  it  is  not  needful  that  they  should  feel 
sorrow  of  heart,  or  make  confession  with  the  lips.t 
Let  them  only  hasten  to  bring  their  money,  for  they 
will  thus  do  a  work,  most  profitable  to  departed  souls, 
and  to  the  building  of  the  Church  of  St.  Peter."  Great- 
r  blessings  could  not  be  proposed,  nor  at  a  lower  cost. 

Confession  being  gone  through,  (and  it  was  soon 
despatched,)  the  faithful  hastened  to  the  vender.  Only 
one  was  commissioned  to  sell.  He  had  his  counter 
close  to  the  cross.  He  turned  a  scrutinising  glance 
on  those  who  came.  He  examined  their  manner,  step, 
and  attire,  and  demanded  a  sum  in  proportion  to  the 
apparent  circumstances  of  the  party  presenting  him- 
self. Kings,  queens,  princes,  archbishops,  bishops,  &c. 
were  to  pay,  according  to  the  regulation,  for  an  ordi- 
nary indulgence,  twenty-five  ducats ;  abbots,  counts, 
barons,  &c.,  ten.  The  other  nobles,  superiors,  and  all 
who  had  an  annual  income  of  500  florins,  were  to  pay 
six.  Those  who  had  an  income  of  200  florins,  one.  ; 
the  rest,  half  a  florin.  And  further,  if  this  scale  could 
not  in  every  instance  be  observed,  full  power  was  given 
to  the  apostolic  commissary,  and  the  whole  might  be 
arranged  according  to  the  dictates  of  sonnd  reason,  and 
the  generosity  of  the  giver. §  For  particular  sins  Tet- 
zel had  a  private  scale.  Polygamy  cost  six  ducats  ; 
sacrilege  and  perjury,  nine  ducats  ;  murder,  eight ; 
witchcraft,  two.  Samson,  who  carried  on  in  Switzer- 
land the  same  traffic  as  Tetzel  in  Germany,  had  rather 
a  different  scale.  He  charged  for  infanticide  four  livres 
tournois;  for  a  parricide  or  fratricide,  one  ducat.  || 

The  apostolic  commissaries  sometimes  encountered 
difficulties  in  their  commerce.  It  often  happened,  as 
well  in  the  towns  as  in  the  villages,  that  husbands  were 
opposed  to  the  traffic,  and  forbade  their  wives  to  carry 
any  thing  to  the  dealers.  What  were  their  supersti- 
tious partners  to  do  ?  "  Have  you  not  your  marriage 
portion,  or  some  other  property,  at  your  disposal  ?"  asked 
the  venders.  "  In  that  case  you  can  dispose  of  it  for  this 
holy  purpose,  without  your  husband's  consent. "^f 

The  hand  that  delivered  the  indulgence  could  not 
receive  the  money :  that  was  forbidden  under  the  se- 
verest penalties  ; — there  was  good  reason  to  fear  that 
hand  might  not  always  be  trustworthy  The  penitent 
was  himself  to  drop  the  price  of  his  pardon  into  the 
chest.**  An  angry  look  was  cast  on  those  who  dared 
to  close  their  purses.ft 

*  Die  erste  Gnade  ist  die  vollkommene  Vergebung  aller 
Sunden,  &c.  Instruction  19. 

f  Nur  den  Beichtbrief  zu  kaufen.     (Ibid.  36.) 

\  Auch  ist  nicht  nothig  das  sie  in  dem  Herzen  zerknirscht 
sind,und  mit  dem  Mund  gebeichtet  haben.  (Ibid.  3S.) 

§  Nach  den  Satzen  der  gesunden  Vernuft,  nach  ihrer 
Magnificenz  und  Freigebigkeit.  (Instruction,  &c.  26.) 

I!  MiUler  reliq.  iii.  p.  264. 

f  Wider  den  Willen  ihres  mannes.    (Instruction,  27.) 

**  Ib.  87,  90,  91. 

ft  Luth.  Opp.  Leipz.  xvii.  79 


66 


PUBLIC  PENANCE— LETTER  OF  INDULGENCE— RELAXATIONS. 


If,  among  those  who  pressed  into  the  confessionals, 
there  came  one  whose  crimes  had  been  public,  and  yet 
untouched  by  the  civil  laws,  such  person  was  obliged, 
first  of  all,  to  do  public  penance.  He  was  conducted 
to  a  chapel,  or  sacristy ;  there  he  was  stripped  of  his 
clothes,  his  shoes  taken  off  his  feet,  and  he  left  in  his 
shirt.  They  made  him  fold  his  arms  upon  his  breast, 
placed  a  light  in  one  hand,  and  a  wax  taper  in  the  other. 
Then  the  penitent  walked  at  the  head  of  the  procession, 
which  passed  to  the  head  of  the  red  cross.  He  kneeled 
till  the  singing  and  the  collect  were  concluded  ;  then 
the  commissary  gave  out  the  psalm,  "  Miserere  mei." 
The  confessors  immediately  approached  the  penitent, 
and  led  him  across  the  station  toward  the  commissary, 
,  who,  taking  the  rod,  and  striking  him  thrice  gently  on 
the  back,*  said :  "  God  take  pity  on  thee,  and  pardon 
thy  sin  !"  After  this,  he  gave  out  the  Kyrie  eleison, 
&c.  Then  the  penitent  being  led  back,  and  placed 
before  the  cross,  the  confessor  pronounced  the  aposto- 
lical absolution,  and  declared  him  reinstated  in  the 
company  of  the  faithful.  Wretched  mummeries,  con- 
cluded by  a  passage  of  Scripture,  which,  at  such  a 
time,  was  a  profanation  ! 

We  will  give  one  of  these  letters  of  absolution.  It 
,  is  worth  while  to  know  the  contents  of  these  diplomas, 
which  gave  occasion  to  the  Reformation. 

"  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  have  mercy  on  thee,  N.  N., 
and  absolve  thee  by  the  merits  of  his  most  holy  suffer- 
ings !  And  I,  in  virtue  of  the  apostolic  power  com- 
mitted to  me,  absolve  thee  from  all  ecclesiastical 
censures,  judgments,  and  penalties  that  thou  mayst 
have  merited  ;  and  further,  from  all  excesses,  sins, 
and  crimes  that  thou  mayst  have  committed,  however 
great  and  enormous  they  may  be,  and  of  whatever  kind 
— even  though  they  should  be  reserved  to  our  holy 
father  the  Pope,  and  to  the  Apostolic  See.  I  efface  all 
the  stains  of  weakness,  and  all  traces  of  the  shame  that 
thou  mayst  have  drawn  upon  thyself  by  such  actions. 
I  remit  the  pains  thou  wouldst  have  had  to  endure  in 
pnrgatory.  I  receive  thee  again  to  the  sacraments  of 
the  Church.  I  hereby  reincorporate  thee  in  the  com- 
munion of  the  saints,  and  restore  thee  to  the  innocence 
and  purity  of  thy  baptism  ;  so  that,  at  the  moment  of 
death,  the  gate  of  the  place  of  torment  shall  be  shut 
against  thee,  and  the  gate  of  the  paradise  of  joy  shall 
be  opened  unto  thee.  And  if  thou  shouldst  live  long, 
this  grace  continueth  unchangeable,  till  the  time  of  thy 
end. 

"  In  the  name  of  the  Father,  of  the  Son,  and  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  Amen. 

"  The  Brother,  John  Tetzel,  commissary,  hath 
signed  this  with  his  own  hand." 

In  this  document,  we  see  with  what  art  presump- 
tuous and  false  doctrines  were  interspersed  among 
sacred  and  Christian  expressions. 

All  the  faithful  were  to  come  and  confess  in  the  spot 
where  the  red  cross  was  set  up.  None  but  the  sick, 
old  men,  and  women  with  child,  were  exempt.  If, 
however,  there  was  in  the  neighbourhood  any  noble  in 
his  castle,  or  wealthy  man  in  his  palace,  his  personal 
attendance  was  dispensed  with.*  For  he  might  not 
care  to  mingle  with  this  mob  of  people,  and  his  money 
was  worth  fetching  from  his  residence. 

If  there  was  any  convent  whose  superiors,  disap- 
proving Tetzel's  traffic,  forbade  their  monks  to  resort 
to  the  places  where  the  indulgence  was  offered — means 
were  still  found  to  remedy  this.  Confessors  were  sent 
to  them  comissioned  to  absolve  them  contrary  to  the 
rules  of  their  order,  and  the  will  of  their  superiors.! 
Not  a  vein  of  the  mine  was  left  unexplored. 

Then  came  what  was  the  object  and  end  of  the 

*  Dreimal  gelind  auf  den  Riickcn.    (Instruction.) 
t  Instr..9.  j  Ibid.  69 


whole  affair  —  the  reckoning  of  the  money.  To  guard 
against  all  risks,  the  chest  had  three  keys  —  one  was 
in  the  keeping  of  Tetzel,  the  other  with  the  delegated 
treasurer  of  the  house  of  Fugger,  of  Augsburg,  to  whom 
sometime  before  this  vast  speculation  had  been  farmed; 
and  the  third  was  lodged  with  the  civil  authority. 
When  the  appointed  day  arrived,  the  chest  was  opened 
in  presence  of  a  public  notary,  and  the  whole  contents 
carefully  counted,  and  entered  in  the  books.  Was  it 
not  fit  that  Christ  should  arise  and  drive  out  these 
buyers  and  sellers  from  the  temple  1 

The  mission  being  ended,  the  dealers  relaxed  in 
amusement,  after  their  labours.  The  instruction  of 
the  commissary-general  did,  it  is  true,  forbid  their 
frequenting  taverns  and  disreputable  places.*  But 
they  paid  little  regard  to  this  interdict.  Sin  must 
have  had  few  terrors  for  men  who  carried  on  so  easy 
a  traffic  in  it.  "The  mendicant  friars  led  an  irregu- 
lar life,"  says  a  Roman  Catholic  historian  ;  "  they 
spent  in  taverns,  gaming  houses,  and  houses  of  ill- 
fame,  what  the  people  had  scraped  together  from  their 
poverty."!  It  is  even  affirmed  that,  when  they  were  in 
the  taverns,  they  would  sometimes  stake  on  dice  the 
salvation  of  souls.  t 

But  let  us  see  to  what  scenes  this  sale  of  the  par- 
don of  sins  gave  rise  in  Germany.  There  are  some 
incidents,  which  of  themselves,  are  a  picture  of  the 
times.  We  like  to  let  those  whose  history  we  write 
speak  for  themselves. 

At  Magdeburg,  Tetzel  refused  to  absolve  a  rich 
lady,  unless  she  paid  down  one  hundred  florins.  The 
lady.  consulted  her  usual  confessor,  who  was  a  Fran- 
ciscan. "  God  gives  us  remission  of  sins  freely," 
answered  he  ;  "  He  does  not  sell  it."  Yet  he  entreat- 
ed her  not  to  mention  what  he  had  said.  But  the 
report  of  an  opinion  so  adverse  to  his  gains  having 
reached  the  ears  of  Tetzel  —  •"  Such  an  adviser," 
he  exclaimed,  "  deserves  to  be  expelled  or  burnt 


Tetzel  found  but  few  sufficiently  enlightened,  and 
still  fewer  bold  enough  to  resist  him.  In  general  he 
could  easily  manage  a  superstitious  crowd.  He  had 
erected  the  red  cross  of  indulgences  at  Zwickau,  and 
the  good  people  of  the  place  had  hastened  to  pour  in 
the  money  that  was  to  liberate  souls.  He  was  about 
to  leave  with  a  full  purse.  The  evening  before  his 
departure,  the  chaplins  and  their  acolytes  called  upon 
him  to  give  them  a  farewell  repast.  The  request  was 
reasonable  ;  but  what  was  to  be  done  —  the  money 
was  already  counted  and  sealed  up.  In  the  morning 
he  had  the  large  bell  tolled.  A  crowd  hurried  to  the 
church  —  every  one  thought  that  something  extraordi- 
nary had  happened  since  the  period  of  the  station  had 
expired.  "I  had  intended,"  said  he,  "to  take  my 
departure  this  morning,  but  last  night  I  was  awakened 
by  groans.  I  listened  :  they  proceeded  from  the 
cemetry.  Alas  !  it  was  a  poor  soul  that  called  me, 
and  entreated  to  be  delivered  from  the  torment  that 
consumed  it.  I  therefore  have  tarried  one  day  longer, 
that  I  might  move  Christian  hearts  to  compassion  for 
this  unhappy  soul.  Myself  will  be  the  first  to  contri- 
bute —  but  he  who  will  not  follow  my  example,  will  be 
worthy  of  all  condemnation."  What  heart  would  not 
answer  to  such  an  appeal.  Besides,  who  can  tell  what 
soul  thus  cries  from  the  tomb  1  The  gifits  were  many  ; 
and  Tetzel,  with  the  chaplins  and  acolytes,  sat  down 
to  a  merry  feast  paid  for  by  offerings  for  the  poor 
soul  of  Zwickau.  II 

The  dealers  in  indulgences  had  established  them- 

*  Ibid.  4. 

t  Sarpi,  Concile  de  Trente,  p.  5. 

t  Schr6ck,  K.  G.  v.  d.  R.  1.  116. 

^  Schultet.  Annal.  Evangel,  p.  iv. 

||  Loschers,  Ref.  Acta,  I.  404.    L.  Opp.xv.  443,  &c. 


THE  SHOEMAKER  OF  HAGENAU— MYCONIUS-A  STRATAGEM, 


67 


selves  at  Hagenau  in  1 517.  The  wife  of  a  shoemaker, 
profiting  by  the  permission  given  iu  the  instruction  of 
the  Commissary-general,  had  procured,  against  her 
husband's  will,  a  letter  of  indulgence,  and  had  paid 
for  it  a  gold  florin.  Shortly  after  she  died  ;  and  the 
widower,  omitting  to  have  mass  said  for  the  repose  of 
her  soul,  the  curate  charged  him  with  contempt  of 
religion,  and  the  judge  of  Hagenau  summoned  him  to 
appear  before  him.  The  shoemaker  put  in  his  pocket 
his  wife's  indulgence,  and  repaired  to  the  place  of  sum- 
mons. "Is  your  wife  dead?' asked  the  judge.  "Yes," 
answered  the  shoemaker.  "  What  have  you  done  with 
her]"  "I  buried  her,  and  commended  her  soul  to 
God."  "  But  have  you  had  a  mass  said  for  the  salva- 
tion of  her  soul  ]"  "  I  have  not — it  was  not  necessary 
— she  went  to  heaven  in  the  moment  of  her  death." 
"  How  do  you  know  that  1"  "  Here  is  the  evidence  of 
it."  The  widower  drew  from  his  pocket  the  indul- 
gence, and  the  judge,  in  presence  of  the  curate,  read, 
in  so  many  words,  that  in  the  moment  of  death,  the 
woman  who  had  received  it  would  go,  not  into  purga- 
tory, but  straight  into  heaven.  "  If  the  curate  pretends 
that  a  mass  is  necessary  after  that,"  said  the  shoe- 
maker, "  my  wife  has  been  cheated  by  our  Holy  Father 
the  Pope ;  but  if  she  has  not  been  cheated,  then  the 
curate  is  deceiving  me."  There  was  no  reply  to  this 
defence,  and  the  accused  was  accquitted.*  It  was 
thus  that  the  good  sense  of  the  people  disposed  of 
the  impostures. 

One  day,  when  Tetzel  was  preaching  at  Leipsic, 
and  had  introduced  into  his  preaching  some  of  these 
stories  of  which  we  have  given  a  specimen,  two  stu- 
dents indignatly  left  the  church,  exclaiming — "  It  is 
not  possible  to  listen  any  longer  to  the  ridiculous  and 
childish  tales  of  our  monk."t  One  of  these  students, 
it  is  affirmed,  was  young  Camerarius,  who  was  subse- 
quently the  friend  of  Melancthon,  and  wrote  his  life. 

But  of  all  the  young  men  of  that  period,  Tetzel 
made  the  strongest  impression  on  Myconius — subse- 
quently celebrated  as  a  reformer  and  an  historian  of  the 
Reformation.  Myconius  had  received  a  religious  edu- 
cation. "  My  son,"  said  his  father,  who  was  a  pious 
Franconian,  "  pray  frequently  ;  for  all  things  are  freely 
given  to  us  by  God  alone.  The  blood  of  Christ,"  he 
added,  "  is  the  only  ransom  for  the  sins  of  the  whole 
world.  Oh,  my  son  !  if  there  were  but  three  men  to 
be  saved  by  the  blood  of  Christ,  only  believe,  and  be 
sure  that  you  shall  be  one  of  those  three.  J  It  is  an 
insult  to  the  Saviour's  blood  to  doubt  its  power  to  save.'' 
Then,  proceeding  to  warn  his  son  against  the  trad< 
that  was  beginning  in  Germany — "  The  Roman  in 
dulgences,"  said  he,  "  are  nets  to  fish  for  money,  am 
delude  the  simple.  Remission  of  sins  and  eternal  lif< 
are  not  to  be  purchased  by  money." 

At  thirteen,  Frederic  was  sent  to  the  school  of  An 
naberg,  to  finish  his  studies.  Soon  after,  Tetzel  ar 
rived  in  this  town,  and  remained  there  for  two  months 
The  people  flocked  in  crowds  to  hear  him  preach 
"  There  is,"  exclaimed  Tetzel,  with  a  voice  of  thun 
der,  "  no  other  means  of  obtaining  eternal  life  save  th< 
satisfaction  of  good  works.  But  this  satisfaction  i 
out  of  man's  power.  His  only  resource  is  to  purchast 
it  from  the  Roman  PontifF."§ 

When  Tetzel  was  on  the  point  of  leaving  Annaberg 
his  appeal  became  more  urgent.  "  Soon,"  said  he 
with  a  threatening  accent,  "  I  shall  take  down  tha 
cross,  and  close  the  gate  of  heaven,!!  and  put  out  tha 

*  Musculi  Loci  communes,  p.  35ii. 

f  Hoffmanns  Reformationgesch.  v.  Leipz.  p.  32. 

{  Si  tantum  tres  homines  esset  salvando  per  sanguinem 
Christi,  certo  statueret  unum  se  esse  ox  tribus  illis  (Melch 
Adam.  Vita  My  con.) 

§  Si  nummisredimatur  aPontifice  Romano.  (Melch.  Adam 

H  Clausurumjanuam  cosli.  (Melch.  Adam.) 


un  of  grace  which  shines  before  your  eyes."  Then, 
esuming  a  tenderer  strain  of  exhortation,  "  This,"  said 
e,  "  is  the  day  of  salvation,  this  is  the  accepted  time." 
nd,  as  a  last  effort,  the  pontifical  Stentor,*  speaking 
o  the  inhabitants  of  a  country  rich  in  mines,  ex- 
laimed,  "  Inhabitants  of  Annaberg  !  bring  hither  your 
money  :  contribute  liberally  in  aid  of  indulgences,  and 
11  your  mines  and  mountains  shall  be  filled  with  pure 
Iver."  Finally,  at  Easter,  he  proclaimed  that  he 
ould  distribute  his  letters  to  the  poor  gratuitously, 
nd  for  the  love  of  God. 

The  young  Myconius  happened  to  be   among  the 
earers.       He  felt  a  wish  to  take  advantage  of  this 
flfer.     "I  am  a  poor  sinner,"  said  he,  addressing  in 
.latin  the  commissioners  to  whom  he  applied,  "  and 
need  a  free  pardon."     "  Those  only,"  answered  the 
ealers,  "  can  share  in  the  merits  of  Christ  who  stretch 
orth  a  helping  hand  to  the  church — that  is,  give  their 
money."       "  What   mean,   then,"    said  Myconius, 
those  promises  of  free  distribution,  posted  up  on  the 
ates  and  walls  of  the  churches  V     "  Give  at  least  a 
-ros,"  said  Tetzel's  people,  after  having  vainly  inter- 
eded  for  the  young  man  with  their  master.     "  1  can- 
I0t." — "  Only  six  deniers." — "  I  have  not  even  so 
much."     The  Dominicans  then  began  to  apprehend 
hat  he  meant  to  entrap  them.     "  Listen,"  said  they, 
'  we  will  give  you  six  deniers."    On  which  the  young 
man,  raising  his  voice,  with  indignation  replied,  "  I 
will  have  none  of  the  indulgences  that  are  bought  and 
old !     If  I  desired  to  purchase  them,  I  should  only 
lave  to  sell  one  of  my  books.     What  I  want  is  a  free 
jardon,  and  for  the  love  of  God.     You  will  have  to 
iccount  to  God  for  having,  for  the  sake  of  six  deniers, 
missed  the   salvation   of  a  soul."     "Ah!   ah!"  said 
hey,  who  sent  you  to  tempt  us  ?"     "  No  one,"   re- 
>lied  the  young  man  :  "  the  desire  of  receiving  the 
rrace  of  God  could  alone  induce  me  to  appear  before 
such  great  lords."     He  left  them. 

I  was  grieved,"  says  he,  "  at  being  thus  sent 
away  without  pity.  But'l  felt  iu  myself  a  comforter, 
who  whispered  that  there  is  a  God  in  heaven  who  for- 
gives repentant  souls  without  money  and  without 
mce,  for  the  sake  of  his  son,  Jesus  Christ.  As  I  left 
ihese  people,  the  Holy  Spirit  touched  my  heart.  I 
Durst  into  tears  ;  and  with  sighs  and  groans  prayed  to 
the  Lord  :  '  Oh  God,  since  these  men  have  refused  re- 
mission of  sins,  because  I  had  no  money  to  pay,  do 
thou,  Lord,  take  pity  on  me,  and  forgive  them  in 
mere  mercy.'  I  retired  to  my  chamber.  I  took  my 
crucifix  from  my  desk,  placed  it  on  my  chair,  and 
kneeled  before  it.  I  cannot  here  put  down  what  I  ex- 
perienced. I  asked  of  God  to  be  my  father,  and  to  make 
me  what  he  would  have  me.  I  felt  my  nature  changed, 
converted,  transformed.  What  had  before  delighted 
me  was  now  distasteful.  To  live  with  God,  and  to 
please  him,  became  my  most  ardent — my  single  de- 
sire."! 

Thus  Tetzel  himself  was  preparing  the  Reformation. 
By  scandalous  abuses  he  made  way  for  a  purer  teaching ; 
and  the  generous  indignation  which  he  excited  in  youth- 
ful minds,  was  destined  one  day  to  break  forth  with 
power.  We  may  judge  of  this  by  the  following  inci- 
dent: 

A  Saxon  gentleman  had  heard  Tetzel  at  Leipsic, 
and  was  much  shocked  by  his  impostures.  He  went 
to  the  monk,  and  inquired  if  he  was  authorized  to  par- 
don sins  in  intention,  or  such  as  the  applicant  intended 
to  commit]  "Assuredly,"  answered  Tetzel;  "I 
have  full  power  from  the  pope  to  do  so."  "  Well," 
returned  the  gentleman,  "  I  want  to  take  some  slight 

*  Stentor  Pontificus.    (Ib.) 

t  Letter  of  Myconius  to  Eberus  in  Hechtii  Vita  TezeliL 
Wittemb.  i.  p.  14. 


68 


OPINIONS  OF  THE  PEOPLE— THE  MINER  OF  SCHNEEBERG— LEO  X. 


revenge  on  one  of  my  enemies,  without  attempting  his 
life.  I  will  pay  you  ten  crowns  if  you  will  give  me  a 
letter  of  indulgence  that  shall  bear  me  harmless." 
Tetzel  made  some  scruples  ;  they  struck  their  bar- 
gain for  thirty  crowns.  Shortly  after,  the  monk  set 
out  for  Leipsic.  The  gentleman,  attended  by  his  ser- 
vants, laid  wait  for  him  in  a  wood  between  Juterboch 
and  Treblin — fell  upon  him,  gave  him  a  beating,  and 
carried  off  the  rich  chest  of  indulgence-money  the  in- 
quisitor had  with  him.  Tetzel  clamoured  against  this 
act  of  violence,  and  brought  an  action  before  the 
judges.  But  the  gentleman  showed  the  letter,  signed 
by  Tetzel  himself,  which  exempted  him,  beforehand, 
from  all  responsibility.  Duke  George,  who  had  at  first 
been  much  irritated  at  this  action,  upon  seeing  this 
writing,  ordered  that  the  accused  should  be  acquitted.* 
This  traffic  everywhere  agitated  the  minds  of  the 
people,  and  was  everywhere  discussed.  It  was  the 
subject  of  conversation  in  castles,  academies,  and  pri- 
vate houses ;  as  well  as  in  inns,  taverns,  and  all  places 
of  resort.f  Opinions  were  divided ;  some  believed, 
some  were  indignant.  But  the  sober  part  of  the  na- 
tion rejected  with  disgust  the  whole  system  of  indul- 
gences. This  doctrine  was  so  opposed  to  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  to  sound  sense,  that  all  men  who  possessed 
any  knowledge  of  the  Bible,  or  any  natural  acuteness, 
had  already  condemned  it  in  their  hearts,  and  only 
waited  for  a  signal  to  oppose  it.  On  the  other  hand, 
mockers  found  abundant  cause  for  ridicule.  The  peo- 
ple, who  had  been  irritated  for  so  many  years  by  the  ill 
conduct  of  the  priests,  and  whom  the  fear  of  punish- 
ment had  alone  retained  in  any  outward  respect,  gave 
loose  to  all  their  animosity ;  and  on  all  sides  were  heard 
complaints  and  sarcasms  upon  the  love  of  money  that 
infected  the  clergy. 

The  people  went  still  farther.  They  impugned  the 
power  of  the  keys  and  the  authority  of  the  sovereign 
pontiff.  "  Why,"  said  they,  "  does  not  the  pope  de- 
liver at  once  all  the  souls  from  purgatory  by  a  holy 
charity,  and  on  account  of  the  great  misery  of  those 
souls,  since  he  frees  so  great  a  number  for  the  sake 
of  perishable  gain  and  the  cathedral  of  St.  Peter  1" 

"  Why  do  we  continue  to  observe  the  festivals  and 
anniversaries  for  the  dead  1  Why  does  not  the  pope 
surrender,  or  why  does  he  not  permit  people  to  resume 
the  benefices  and  prebends  founded  in  favor  of  the 
dead,  since  now  it  is  useless,  and  even  wrong,  to  pray 
for  those  whom  indulgences  have  for  ever  set  free  1 
What  is  this  new  kind  of  holiness  of  God  and  of  the 
pope,  that,  for  the  sake  of  money,  they  grant  to  a 
wicked  man,  and  an  enemy  of  God,  the  power  of  de- 
livering from  purgatory  a  pious  soul,  beloved  by  the 
Lord,  rather  than  themselves  deliver  it  freely  from  love 
for  it,  and  on  account  of  its  great  misery  !"£ 

Accounts  were  circulated  of  the  gross  and  immoral 
conduct  of  the  traffickers  in  indulgences.  "  To  pay,'" 
said  they,  "  what  they  owe  to  drivers,  who  carry  them 
and  their  goods  ;  to  innkeepers,  at  whose  houses  they 
lodge  ;  or  to  any  one  who  does  them  service,  they  give 
a  letter  of  indulgence,  for  four,  five,  or  as  many  souls 
as  they  wish."  Thus  the  brevets  of  salvation  were 
circulated  in  the  inns  and  markets,  like  bank-notes 
or  paper-money.  "Bring  hither  your  money,"  saic 
the  common  people,  "  is  the  beginning,  the  middle,  anc 
the  end  of  their  sermons."6 

A  miner  of  Schneeberg,  meeting  a  seller  of  indul- 
gences, inquired :  "  Must  we  then  believe  what  yoi 
have  often  said  of  the  power  of  indulgences,  and  of 

»  Albinu«  Meissn.  Chronik.  L.  W.  (W.)  xv.  446.  &c.  Hech 
tius  in  Vita  Tezelii. 

t  L.  Opp.   Leipz.)   xvii.  p.  Ill,   116. 

j  Luther's  Theses  on  the  Indulgences.    (Th.  82,  83,  34.) 

$L.  Opp.  (Leipz.)  xvii.  79. 


he  authority  of  the  pope,  and  think  that  we  can  re- 
eem  a  soul  from  purgatory  by  casting  a  penny  into 
he  chest  1"  The  dealer  in  indulgences  affirmed  that 
t  was  so.  "  Ah  !"  replied  the  miner,  "what  a  cruel 
man  the  pope  must  be,  thus  to  leave  a  poor  soul  to  suffer 
o  long  in  the  flames  for  a  wretched  penny !  If  he  has  no 
eady  money,  let  him  collect  a  few  hundred  thousand 
rowns,  and  deliver  all  these  souls  by  one  act.  Even 
we  poor  folks  would  willingly  pay  him  the  principal 
nd  .interest." 

The  people  of  Germany  were  weary  of  the  shame- 
ul  traffic  that  was  carrying  on  in  the  midst  of  them. 
They  could  no  longer  bear  the  impostures  of  these  Rom- 
sh  tricksters,  as  Luther  remarks.*  Yet  no  bishop  or 
livine  dared  lay  a  finger  on  their  quackery  and  deceit. 
The  minds  of  men  were  in  suspense.  They  asked 
ach  other  if  God  would  not  raise  up  some  powerful 
nstrument  for  the  work  that  was  required  to  be  done. 
Jut  such  an  one  was  nowhere  visible. 

The  pope,  who  then  filled  the  pontifical  throne,  was 
not  a  Borgia,  but  Leo  X.,  of  the  illustrious  family  of 
he  Medici.  He  was  a  man  of  talent,  open-hearted, 
cind,  and  indulgent.  His  manners  were  affable,  his 
"iberality  unbounded,  and  his  morals  greatly  superior 
o  those  of  his  court.  Nevertheless,  the  Cardinal  Pal- 
avicini  confesses,  they  were  not  quite  free  from  re- 
>roach.  To  these  amiable  qualities  he  added  many  of 
he  accomplishments  that  form  a  great  prince.  He 
was,  especially,  a  liberal  patron  of  the  arts  and  sci- 
ences. The  earliest  Italian  comedies  were  represented 
n  his  presence,  and  most  of  the  dramas  of  his  time 
were  honoured  by  his  attendance.  He  was  passion- 
tely  fond  of  music  ;  his  palace  daily  resounded  with 
musical  instruments,  and  he  was  often  heard  humming 
the  airs  that  had  been  sung  before  him.  Fond  of  mag- 
nificence, he  spared  no  expense  in  feastings,  public 
games,  theatrical  entertainments,  and  gifts.  No  court 
surpassed  in  splendour  or  in  pleasures  that  of  the  Sov- 
ereign Pontiff ;  so  that  when  news  was  brought  that 
Julian  Medici  was  about  to  choose  Rome  as  a  place 
of  residence  for  himself  and  his  young  bride,  Cardinal 
Bibliena,  the  most  influential  of  Leo's  council,  ex- 
claimed, "God  be  praised!  we  wanted  nothing  here 
jut  a  female  circle."  A  "  female  circle"  was  felt  re- 
qusite  to  complete  the  attractions  of  the  pope's  court. 
But  a  feeling  of  religion  was  a  thing  of  which  Leo 
was  entirely  ignorant.  "  His  manners,"  says  Sarpi, 
"  were  so  charming,  that  he  would  have  been  a  per- 
fect man  if  he  had  some  knowledge  in  religious  mat- 
ters, and  a  little  more  inclination  for  piety,  concerning 
which  he  never  troubled  himself."! 

Leo  was  in  great  want  of  money.  He  had  to  pro- 
vide for  his  vast  expenses  ;  to  satisfy  all  demamds  on 
his  liberality  ;  to  fill  with  gold  the  purse  he  every  day 
threw  to  the  people  ;  to  defray  the  costs  of  the  licen- 
tious plays  at  the  Vatican  ;  to  gratify  the  continual 
demands  of  his  relations  and  of  courtiers  who  were  ad- 
dicted to  voluptuousness ;  to  portion  his  sister,  who 
had  married  Prince  Cibo,  a  natural  son  of  Pope  Inno- 
cent VIII.  ;  and  to  bear  all  the  expenses  attending  his 
taste  for  literature,  arts,  and  pleasures.  His  cousin,  Car- 
dinal Pucci,who  was  as  skilful  in  the  art  of  amassing  mo- 
ney as  Leo  was  prodigal  in  spending,advised  him  to  have 
recourse  to  indulgences.  The  pope,  therefore,  published 
a  bull,  proclaiming  a  general  indulgence,  the  product 
of  which  should  be  appropriated,  he  said,  to  the  build- 
ing of  St.  Peter's  church,  that  splendid  monument  of 

*  Fessi  erant  Germani  omnes,  ferendis  explicationibus.  nun- 
dinationibus,  et  infinitis  imposturis  Romanensium  nebulonum. 
(L.  Opp.,  Lat.  in  praei.) 

t  Sarpi,  Concile  de  Trente,  p.  4.  Pallavicini,  though  labor- 
ing to  refute  Sarpi,  confirms  and  even  aggravates  the  charge  : 
suo  plane  officio  defuit  (Leo)  ....  venationes,  lacetias,  pompas 
adeo  frequentes (Council.  Trid  Hist.  i.  p.  8,  9) 


ALBERT— FARMING  INDULGENCES— FRANCISCANS  AND  DOMINICANS.        69 


ecclesiastical  magnificence.  In  a  letter  given  at  Rome, 
under  the  seal  of  the  fisherman,  in  November,  1517, 
Leo  required  from  his  commissioner  of  indulgences 
one  hundred  and  forty-seven  gold  ducats,  "  to  pay  for 
a  manuscript  of  the  33d  book  of  Livy."  Of  all  the 
uses  he  made  of  the  money  extorted  from  the  Ger- 
mans, this  was  undoubtedly  the  best.  But  it  was 
strange  to  deliver  souls  from  purgatory,  that  he  might 
purchase  a  manuscript  of  the  wars  of  the  Romans  ! 

There  was  then  in  Germany  a  young  prince  who 
was,  in  many  respects,  a  counterpart  of  Leo  X. : — this 
was  Albert,  the  younger  brother  of  the  Elector,  Joa- 
chim, of  Brandenburg.  This  young  man,  at  the  age 
of  twenty-four,  had  been  made  Archbishop  and  Elector 
of  Mentz  and  of  Magdeburg ;  two  years  after  he  was 
made  Cardinal.  Albert  had  neither  the  virtues  nor  the 
vices  which  have  often  characterised  the  dignitaries  of 
the  Church.  Young,  volatile,  wordly-minded,  but  not 
devoid  of  generous  sentiments,  he  plainly  saw  many  of 
the  abuses  of  Catholicism,  and  cared  little  for  the  fa- 
natical monks  that  surrounded  him.  His  equity  in- 
clined him  to  acknowledge,  at  least  in  part,  the  justice 
of  what  the  friends  of  the  Gospel  required.  In  his 
heart  he  was  not  greatly  opposed  to  Luther.  Capito, 
one  of  the  most  distinguished  Reformers,  was  for  a 
long  time  his  chaplain,  counsellor,  and  intimate  confi- 
dant. Albert  regularly  attended  his  preaching.  "  He 
did  not  despise  the  Gospel,"  says  Capito  ;  "  on  the 
contrary,  he  highly  esteemed  it,  and  for  a  long  time 
prevented  the  monks  from  attacking  Luther."  But 
he  would  have  had  the  latter  abstain  from  compromis- 
ing him,  and  beware,  while  pointing  out  the  errors  in 
doctrine  and  the  vices  of  the  inferior  clergy,  of  bring- 
ing to  light  the  faults  of  the  bishops  and  prince.  Above 
all,  he  feared  to  find  his  own  name  thrust  forward  in 
the  contest.  "  See,"  said  Capito  to  Luther,  at  a  sub- 
sequent period,  deluding  himself  as  is  usual  in  such 
cases,  "  see  the  example  of  Christ  and  of  his  apostles  : 
they  reproved  the  Pharisees  and  the  incestuous  person 
in  the  church  of  Corinth,  but  did  not  do  so  by  name. 
You  do  not  know  what  is  passing  in  the  hearts  of  the 
bishops.  There  is,  perhaps,  more  good  in  them  than 
you  think."  But  the  frivolous  and  profane  turn  of 
Albert's  character  was  likely  to  indispose  him  for  the 
Reformation,  even  more  than  the  susceptibilities  and 
fears  of  his  self-love.  Affable  in  his  manners,  witty, 
graceful,  of  expensive  and  even  dissipated  habits,  de- 
lighting in  the  pleasures  of  the  table,  and  in  rich  equi- 
pages, houses,  licentious  pursuits,  and  literary  society, 
this  young  archbishop  and  elector  was,  in  Germany, 
what  Leo  was  at  Rome.  His  court  was  one  of  the 
most  splendid  of  the  Empire.  He  was  ready  to  sacri- 
fice to  pleasure  and  grandeur  all  the  foretastes  of  truth 
that  might  visit  his  soul.  Yet  there  was  in  him,  to  the 
last,  a  sort  of  struggle  with  his  better  convictions ;  and 
he  more  than  once  manifested  moderation  and  equity. 

Like  Leo,  Albert  was  in  want  of  money.  Some 
rich  merchants  of  Augsburg,  named  Fugger,  had 
made  him  some  advances.  He  was  pressed  for  the 
means  of  liquidating  his  debts ;  nay,  more,  although 
he  had  obtained  two  archbishoprics  and  a  bishopric,  he 
had  not  enough  to  pay  for  his  pallium  at  Rome.  This 
ornament,  made  of  white  wool,  interspersed  with  black 
crosses,  and  blessed  by  the  pope,  who  was  accustomed 
to  send  it  to  the  archbishops  as  a  sign  of  their  juris- 
diction, cost  them  26,000,  or,  as  some  say,  30,000 
florins. 

It  was  quite  natural  that  Albert  should  form  the  pro- 
ject of  resorting  to  the  same  means  as  his  superior  to 
obtain  money.  He  solicited  from  the  pope  the  con- 
tract for  the  "  farming"  of  all  the  indulgences,  or,  as 
they  expressed  it  at  Rome,  "  the  contract  for  the  sins 
of  the  Germans." 


At  times  the  popes  kept  the  speculation  in  their  own 
hands.  Sometimes  they  farmed  it  to  others  ;  as,  in 
certain  states,  is  still  done  with  gaming  houses.  Al- 
bert proposed  to  Leo  to  divide  the  profits.  Leo,  in 
accepting  the  bargain,  required  immediate  payment  of 
the  pallium.  Albert,  who  was  all  the  while  depend- 
ing on  the  indulgences  for  the  means  of  discharging 
this  claim,  applied  to  the  Fuggers,  who,  thinking  it  a 
safe  investment,  made,  on  certain  conditions,  the  re- 
quired advances  ;  and  were  appointed  cashiers  in  this 
great  undertaking.  They  were  at  this  period  bankers 
to  many  princes,  and  were  afterward  made  counts  for 
the  services  they  had  rendered. 

The  pope  and  archbishop  having  thus  divided  be- 
forehand the  spoils  of  the  credulous  souls  of  Germany, 
it  was  necessary  to  carry  out  the  project,  and  to  find 
some  one  to  undertake  the  trouble  of  realizing  it.  The 
charge  was  first  offered  to  the  Franciscans,  and  their 
guardian  was  associated  in  it  with  Albert.  But  the 
Franciscans  did  not  desire  any  part  in  this  undertaking, 
which  was  already  in  ill  repute  among  good  people. 
The  Augustine  monks,  who  were  more  enlightened 
than  the  other  religious  orders,  would  have  cared  still 
less  to  join  in  it.  Meanwhile,  the  Franciscans  feared 
to  offend  the  pope,  who  had  lately  sent  to  their  general, 
Forli,  a  cardinal's  hat,  which  cost  that  poor  mendicant 
order  30,000  florins.  The  guardian,  therefore,  judged 
it  most  prudent  not  to  meet  the  offer  by  a  direct  re- 
fusal ;  but  he  raised  all  kinds  of  difficulties  in  the  way 
of  Albert ;  they  never  could  agree,  so  that  the  elector 
was  glad  to  accept  the  proposal  that  he  should  take  the 
sole  charge  of  the  concern.  The  Dominicans,  on  their 
part,  coveted  a  share  in  the  lucrative  trade  about  to  be 
opened.  Tetzel,  already  notorious  in  such  matters, 
hastened  to  Mentz,  and  tendered  his  services  to  the 
elector.  His  proved  usefulness  in  publishing  the  in- 
dulgences for  the  knights  of  the  Teutonic  Order  of 
Prussia  and  Livonia  was  recollected,  and  he  was  ac- 
cepted ;  and  thus  it  was,  that  all  this  traffic  passed  into 
the  hands  of  his  order.* 

The  first  time  Luther  heard  speak  of  Tetzel  was,  as 
far  as  we  are  informed,  in  the  year  1516,  at  Grimma, 
when  he  was  commencing  his  visitation  of  the  churches. 
Some  one  came  and  told  Staupitz,  who  was  still  with 
Luther,  that  a  seller  of  indulgences,  named  Tetzel, 
was  making  much  noise  at  Wurtzen.  Some  of  his 
extravagant  expressions  being  quoted,  Luther  was  in- 
dignant and  exclaimed,  "  God  willing,  I  will  make  a 
hole  in  his  drum."f 

Tetzel,  in  his  return  from  Berlin,  where  he  had  met 
with  a  most  friendly  reception  from  the  Elector  Joa- 
chim, a  brother  of  the  farmer-general,  took  up  his  abode 
at  Ju'terboch.  Staupitz,  availing  himself  of  the  confi- 
dence the  Elector  Frederic  reposed  in  him,  had  re- 
peatedly called  his  attention  to  the  abuse  of  the  indul- 
gences, and  the  disgraceful  proceedings  of  the  collec- 
tors.J  The  Princes  of  Saxony,  indignant  at  the 
shameful  traffic,  had  forbidden  Tetzel  to  enter  their 
provinces.  He  was  therefore  compelled  to  stop  on  the 
territory  of  his  patron,  the  Archbishop  of  Magdeburg. 
But  he  drew  as  near  as  he  could  to  Saxony.  At  Jti- 
terboch  he  was  only  four  miles  distant  from  Wittem- 
berg.  "  This  great  purse-drainer,"  said  Luther,  "  went 
boldly  to  work,  beating  up  the  country  all  round,  so 
that  the  money  began  to  leap  out  of  every  man's  purse, 
and  fall  into  his  chest."  The  people  flocked  in  crowds 
from  Wittemberg,  to  the  indulgence  market  at  Ju'ter- 
boch. 

Luther  was  still,  at  this  time,  full  of  respect  for  the 

*  Seckendorf.  42. 

t  Lingke,  Reisegesch.    Luther's,  p  27. 
|  Insillans  ejus  pectori frequentei  indulgentiarum  abusua. 
(Cochlaus.  4.) 


70 


CONFESSION— INDULGENCES— LUTHER— A  CALUMNY  REFUTED. 


Church  and  for  the  pope.  He  says,  himself,  "  I  was 
then  a  monk,  a  papist  of  the  maddest — so  infatuated, 
and  even  steeped  in  the  Romish  doctrines,  that  I  would 
willingly  have  helped  to  kill  any  one  who  had  the  au- 
dacity to  refuse  the  smallest  act  of  obedience  to  the 
pope.  I  was  a  true  Saul,  like  many  others  still  liv- 
ing."* But,  at  the  same  time,  his  heart  was  ready  to 
take  fire  for  what  he  thought  the  truth,  and  against 
what,  in  his  judgment,  was  error.  "  I  was  a  young 
doctor,  fresh  from  the  anvil,  glowing  and  rejoicing  in 
the  glory  of  the  Lord."f 

One  day  Luther  was  at  confessional  at  Wittemberg. 
Several  residents  of  that  town  successively  presented 
themselves.  They  confessed  themselves  guilty  of 
great  irregularities  ;  adultery,  licentiousness,  usury, 
unjust  gains  :  such  were  the  things  men  came  to  talk 
of  with  a  minister  of  God's  word,  who  must  one  day 
give  an  account  of  their  souls.  He  reproved,  rebuked, 
and  instructed.  But  what  was  his  astonishment,  when 
these  persons  replied  that  they  did  not  intend  to  aban- 
don their  sins  !  The  pious  monk,  shocked  at  this,  de- 
clared that,  since  they  would  not  promise  to  change 
their  habits  of  life,  he  could  not  absolve  them.  Then 
it  was  that  these  poor  creatures  appealed  to  their  let- 
ters of  indulgence  ;  they  showed  them,  and  contended 
for  their  efficacy.  But  Luther  replied,  that  he  had 
nothing  to  do  with  their  paper ;  and  he  added,  "  If 
you  do  not  turn  from  the  evil  of  your  way,  you  will 
all  perish."  They  exclaimed  against  this,  and  renewed 
their  application ;  but  the  doctor  was  immoveable. 
"  They  must  cease,"  he  said,  "  to  do  evil,  and  learn 
to  do  well,  or  otherwise  no  absolution.  Have  a  care," 
added  he,  "  how  you  give  ear  to  the  indulgences  :  you 
have  something  better  to  do  than  to  buy  licences  which 
they  offer  you  for  paltry  pence."} 

Much  alarmed,  these  inhabitants  of  Wittemberg 
quickly  returned  to  Tetzel,  and  told  him  that  an  Au- 
gustine monk  treated  his  letters  with  contempt.  Tet- 
zel, at  this,  bellowed  with  anger.  He  held  forth  in  the 
pulpit,  used  insulting  expressions  and  curses, $  and,  to 
strike  the  people  with  more  terror,  he  had  a  fire  lighted 
several  times  in  the  grand  square,  and  declared  that 
he  was  ordered  by  the  pope  to  burn  the  heretics,  who 
should  dare  to  oppose  his  most  holy  indulgences. 

Such  was  the  incident  that  first  gave  occasion  to  the 
Reformatiari,  though  not  the  cause  of  it.  A  pastor 
sees  his  sheep  going  on  in  a  way  that  would  lead  them 
to  their  ruin;  he  seeks  to  guide  them  out  of  it.  He 
has,  as  yet,  no  thought  of  reforming  the  church  and 
the  world.  He  has  seen  Rome  and  its  corruption  ; 
but  he  does  not  erect  himself  against  Rome.  He  dis- 
cerns some  of  the  evils  under  which  Christendom 
groans,  but  he  has  no  thought  of  correcting  those 
abuses.  He  does  not  desire  to  constitute  himself  a 
reformer.  II  He  has  no  more  plan  in  his  mind  for  the 
reform  of  the  church,  than  he  had  previously  had  for 
that  which  had  been  wrought  in  his  own  soul.  God 
himself  designed  a  Reformation,  and  to  make  Luther 
the  instrument  in  its  accomplishment.  The  same  re- 
medy, of  which  the  efficacy  was  proved  by  the  re- 
moval of  his  own  distress,  it  was  God's  purpose  that 
he  should  apply  to  the  distresses  of  Christendom.  He 
remains  quietly  in  the  circle  assigned  to  him.  He 
goes  simply  where  his  master  calls  him.  He  is  dis- 
charging at  Wittemberg  his  duties  as  professor,  preach- 

*  Monachum,  et  papistum  insanissimum,  ita  ebrium,  imo 
submersum  in  dogmatibus  papse,  &c.  In  praef.  Opp.  Witt.  I. 

t  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii. 

I  Ccepi  dissuadere  populis  et  eos  dehortari  ne*  indulgentari 
urn  clam  iribus  aures  praeberent.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  in  prsef.) 

§  Wutet  schilt,  und  maledeiet  graulich  uuf dem  Predigtstuhl. 
(Mysonius,  Reformationgech.) 

||  Hasc  initia  fuerunt  hujus  controversise,  in  qua  Lutherus 
nihil  suspicans  aut  somnians  de  futura  mutatione  rituum,  Sec. 
(Melancth.  Vita  Luth.) 


er,  pastor.  He  is  seated  in  the  temple,  where  the  mem- 
bers of  his  church  come  to  open  their  hearts  to  him. 
It  is  there,  on  that  field,  that  Evil  attacks,  and  Error 
seeks  him  out.  Those  about  him  would  hinder  him 
from  discharging  his  duty.  His  conscience,  bound  to 
the  word  of  God,  is  aroused.  Is  it  not  God  who  calls 
him  1  Resistance  is  a  duty,  therefore,  it  is  also  a  right ; 
he  must  speak.  Such  was  the  course  of  the  events 
occurring  in  the  providence  of  that  God  who  had  de- 
creed to  revive  Christianity  by  the  agency  of  a  miner's 
son  ;  and  to  refine,  in  his  furnace,  the  corrupted  teach- 
ing of  the  church.* 

After  what  has  been  stated,  it  is  needless  to  refute  a 
lying  charge  invented  by  some  enemies  of  Luther,  and 
not  till  after  his  death.  It  has  been  said  it  was  a  jea- 
lousy on  the  part  of  the  monks  of  his  order — the  morti- 
fications of  seeing  the  Dominicans,  and  not  the  Augus- 
tines,  who  had  previously  held  it,  entrusted  with  this 
shameful  and  disreputable  commerce,  that  led  the  doctor 
of  Wittemberg  to  attack  Tetzel  and  his  teaching.  The 
well-ascertained  fact  that  this  traffic  had  been  at  first 
offered  to  the  Franciscans,  who  would  not  have  it, 
suffices  to  refute  this  invention,  repeated  by  writers 
who  do  but  copy  one  another.  Cardinal  Pallavicini 
himself  declares,!  that  the  Augustines  had  never  held 
this  office.  Besides,  we  have  seen  the  struggle  of 
Luther's  soul.  His  conduct  needs  no  other  explana- 
tion. He  could  not  refrain  from  confessing  aloud  the 
doctrine  to  which  he  owed  his  happiness.  In  Chris- 
tianity, when  a  man  finds  a  treasure  for  himself,  he 
hastens  to  impart  it  to  others.  In  our  day  men  have 
abandoned  such  puerile  and  unworthy  attempts  to  ac- 
count for  the  great  revolution  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
It  is  recognized  that  there  must  be  some  more  power- 
ful lever  to  raise  a  whole  world  ;  and  that  the  Re- 
formation was  not  in  Luther  merely,  but  that  the  age  in 
which  he  lived  must  necessarily  have  given  birth  to  it. 

Luther,  called  on  alike  by  obedience  to  the  truth  of 
God,  and  by  charity  to  man,  ascended  the  pulpit.  He 
warned  his  hearers  as  was  his  duty,  as  he  himself  tells 
us.t  His  prince  had  obtained  from  the  pope  some 
special  indulgences  for  the  church  in  the  castle  of 
Wittemberg.  Some  of  the  blows  which  he  is  about 
to  strike  at  the  indulgences  of  the  inquisitor  may 
easily  fall  on  those  of  the  elector.  It  matters  not : 
he  will  brave  his  disgrace.  If  he  sought  to  please  man 
he  would  not  be  the  servant  of  Christ. 

"  No  one  can  show  from  the  Scriptures  that  God's 
justice  requires  a  penalty  or  satisfaction  from  the  sin- 
ner," said  the  faithful  minister  of  the  word,  to  the  peo- 
ple of  Wittemberg.  "  The  only  duty  it  imposes  on 
him  is  a  true  repentance,  a  sincere  change  of  heart ; 
a  resolution  to  bear  the  cross  of  Christ,  and  to  strive 
to  do  good  works.  It  is  a  great  error  to  seek  ourselves 
to  satisfy  God's  justice  for  our  sins,  for  God  ever  par- 
dons them  freely,  by  an  inestimable  grace. 

"  The  Christian  church,  it  is  true,  requires  some- 
what from  the  sinner,  and  what  she  requires  she  may 
remit.  But  that  is  all.  And,  furthermore,  these  in- 
dulgences of  the  church  are  only  tolerated  out  of  re- 
gard for  slothful  and  imperfect  Christians,  who  will 
not  employ  themselves  zealously  in  good  works  ;  for 
they  excite  no  one  to  sanctification,  but  leave  every 
one  in  his  lowness  and  imperfection." 

Then,  passing  to  the  pretext  on  which  these  indul- 
gences were  proclaimed,  he  continued  :  "  It  would  be 
much  better  to  contribute  to  the  building  of  St.  Peter's 
from  love  to  God,  than  to  buy  indulgences  for  such  a 

*Mathesius. — Die  verseurte  Lehr  durch  den  Ofen  gehen 
(P-  10.) 

t  Falsum  est  consuevisse  hoc  munis  injungi  Eremitanis  S 
Augustini.  ...  (p.  14.) 

j  '•  Saiiberlich." 


THE  DREAM. 


71 


purpose.  But,  say  you,  shall  we  then  not  buy  them  1 
I  have  already  said  as  much,  and  I  repeat  it :  my  ad- 
vice is,  that  none  should  buy  them.  Leave  them  for 
drowsy  Christians,  but  do  you  keep  yourselves  sepa- 
rate from  such.  Let  the  faithful  be  turned  from  in- 
dulgences, and  exhorted  to  the  works  they  neglect." 

Then,  glancing  at  his  advarsaries,  Luther  concluded 
in  these  words  :  •'  And  if  some  cry  that  I  am  a  heretic 
— for  the  truth  which  I  preach  is  prejudicial  to  their 
coffers — I  pay  little  regard  to  their  clamours.  They 
are  men  of  gloomy  or  sickly  minds,  who  have  never 
felt  the  truths  of  the  Bible,  never  read  the  Christian 
doctrine,  never  understood  their  own  teachers,  and  are 
perishing  in  the  tattered  rags  of  their  vain  opinions.* 
However,  God  grant  to  them  and  to  us  a  right  under- 
standing !  Amen !"  This  said,  the  doctor  came 
down  from  the  pulpit,  leaving  his  hearers  much  affect- 
ed by  this  bold  harangue. 

This  sermon  was  printed,  and  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion on  all  who  read  it.  Tetzel  answered  it,  and  Lu- 
ther defended  himself;  but  this  was  at  a  later  period, 
in  1518. 

The  feast  of  All  Saints  was  at  hand.  Some  chro- 
niclers relate  at  this  time  a  circumstance  which,  how- 
ever little  important  it  may  be  to  the  history  of  this 
epoch,  may  still  serve  to  characterise  it.  It  is  a  dream 
of  the  elector — beyond  reasonable  doubt  true  in  the 
essential  parts,  though  some  circumstances  may  have 
been  added  by  those  who  related  it.  It  is  mentioned 
by  Seckendorf.t  "  The  fear  of  giving  occasion  to 
his  adversaries  to  say  that  Luther's  doctrine  rested 
Upon  dreams,  has  perhaps  prevented  other  historians 
from  speaking  of  it,"  observes  this  respectable  writer. 

The  elector,  Frederick  of  Saxony,  these  chroniclers 
tell  us,  was  then  at  his  castle  of  Schweinitz,  six 
leagues  form  Wittemberg.  The  morning  of  the  31st 
of  October,  being  with  his  brother,  Duke  John  (who 
was  then  co-regent,  and  who  reigned  alone  after  his 
death,)  and  with  his  Chancellor,  the  elector  said  to 
the  duke : — 

"  Brother,  I  must  tell  you  a  dream  that  I  had  last 
night,  and  of  which  I  should  be  very  glad  to  know  the 
meaning.  It  is  so  deeply  engraved  on  my  mind,  that 
I  should  not  forget  it  were  I  to  live  a  thousand  years, 
for  I  dreamed  it  thrice,  and  each  time  with  some  new 
circumstances." 

Duke  John. — "Is  it  a  good  dream,  or  bad  dream  1" 

The  Elector. — "  I  know  not ;    God  knows." 

Duke  John. — Do  not  make  yourself  uneasy  about  it ; 
tell  it  me." 

The  Elector. — "  Having  gone  to  bed  last  night, 
tired  and  dispirited,  I  fell  asleep  soon  after  saying  my 
prayers,  and  slept  quietly  about  two  hours  and  a  half. 
I  then  woke  ;  and  continued  engaged  till  midnight  with 
a  variety  of  thoughts.  I  considered  how  I  should  keep 
the  festival  of  All  Saints  ;  I  prayed  for  the  poor  souls 
in  purgatory,  and  besought  God  to  guide  me,  my  coun- 
sellors, and  my  people,  into  all  truth.  I  fell  asleep 
again ;  and  then  I  dreamed  that  Almighty  God  sent  a 
monk  to  me,  who  was  the  true  son  of  the  Apostle 
Paul.  All  the  saints  accompanied  him,  according  to 
the  command  of  God,  in  order  to  testify  to  me  in  his 
favor,  and  to  declare  that  he  was  not  come  with  any 
fraudulent  design,  but  that  all  he  did  was  agreeable  to 
the  will  of  God.  They  asked  me,  at  the  same  time, 
graciously  to  allow  him  to  write  something  on  the 

*  Sondern  in  ihren  lochreichen  und  zerrissenen  Opinien 
viel  nahe  verwesen.  (L.  Opp.  (L)  xvii.  p.  119.) 

t  It  is  found  in  Loscher,  i.  46,  &.c.  Tentzels  Anf  und  Fortg. 
der  Ref.  Sunkers  Ehrenged.  p.  148.  Lehmanns  Bcschr. 
Meissen.  Erzgeb.  &c.,  and  in  a  manuscript  of  the  Archives 
of  Weimar,  written  from  the  dictation  of  Spalatin.  It  is  from 
this  manuscript,  published  at  the  last  Jubilee  of  the  Reforma- 
tion (1817,)  that  we  take  the  account  of  this  dream. 


church-door  of  the  castle  of  Witternberg  ;  which  re- 
quest I  granted  by  the  mouth  of  the  chancellor.  There- 
upon the  monk  went  his  way,  and  began  to  write,  but 
in  such  large  characters,  that  I  could  read  from 
Schweinitz  what  he  was  writing.  The  pen  that  he 
used  was  so  long,  that  its  extremity  reached  even  to 
Rome,  wounded  the  ears  of  a  lion  (Leo,)  that  was 
couched  there,  and  shook  the  triple  crown  on  the  pope's 
head.  All  the  cardinals  and  princes,  running  nastily 
toward  him,  endeavoured  to  support  it.  You  and  I, 
brother,  among  the  rest,  attempted  to  support  it  ;  I 
put  out  my  arm, — but  at  that  moment,  I  woke,  with 
my  arm  extended,  in  great  alarm,  and  very  angry  with 
the  monk  who  handled  his  pen  so  awkwardly.  I  re- 
covered myself  a  little — it  was  only  a  dream. 

"  But  I  was  still  half  asleep,  and  I  closed  my  eyes 
again.  My  dream  continued.  The  lion,  still  dis- 
turbed by  the  pen,  began  to  roar  with  all  his  might,  so 
that  the  whole  city  of  Rome,  and  all  the  states  of  the 
holy  empire,  ran  to  enquire  what  was  the  matter.  The 
pope  called  upon  us  to  restrain  the  monk,  and  ad- 
dressed himself  particularly  to  me,  because  he  lived 
in  my  country.  I  woke  again.  I  repeated  a  Pater 
nostcr.  I  besought  God  to  preserve  the  holy  father, 
and  I  then  fell  asleep  again. 

"  After  this,  I  dreamed  that  all  the  princes  of  the  em- 
pire, you  and  I  among  the  rest,  were  flocking  to  Rome 
— trying,  one  after  the  other,  to  break  this  pen ;  but  the 
more  we  exerted  ourselves,  the  stiifer  it  became  ;  it 
resisted  as  if  it  had  been  made  of  iron  ;  at  length  we 
were  tired.  I  then  asked  the  monk  (for  I  seemed  to 
be  sometimes  at  Rome,  and  sometimes  at  Wittem- 
berg,) where  he  had  obtained  that  pen,  and  why  it  was 
so  strong  1  'The pen,'  replied  he,  '  once  belonged  to 
the  wing  of  a  goose  of  Bohemia,  a  hundred  years  old.* 
I  received  it  from  one  of  my  old  schoolmasters  ;  its 
strength  is — that  no  one  can  take  the  pith  out  of  it ; 
and  I  am,  myself,  quite  surprised  at  it.'  Suddenly  I 
heard  a  loud  cry.  From  the  monk's  long  pen  had  is- 
sued a  great  number  of  other  pens.  I  woke  a  third 
time  ;  it  was  daylight." 

Duke  John. — "  Master  Chancellor,  what  do  you 
think  of  it  1  Oh  !  that  we  had  here  a  Joseph,  or  a 
Daniel,  enlightened  by  God  !" 

The  Chancellor. — "  Your  highness  knows  the  vul- 
gar proveb,  that  the  dreams  of  maidens,  scholars,  and 
nobles,  have  generally  some  hidden  meaning ;  but  we 
shall  not  know  the  meaning  of  this  for  some  time,  till 
the  things  to  which  it  relates  shall  have  taken  place. 
Therefore,  commend  the  accomplishment  of  it  to  God, 
and  leave  it  in  his  hands." 

Duke  John  — "  I  agree  with  you,  master  Chancel- 
lor :  it  is  not  right  that  we  should  puzzle  our  heads 
about  the  meaning  of  this :  God  will  turn  it  all  to  his 
glory." 

The  Elector. — "  God  in  his  mercy  grant  it !  How- 
ever, I  shall  never  forget  the  dream.  I  have  thought 
of  one  interpretation — but  I  keep  it  to  myself.  Time 
will  perhaps  show  if  I  have  guessed  right." 

Such,  according  to  the  manuscript  of  Weimar,  was 
the  conversation  that  took  place  on  the  morning  of 
the  31st  of  October,  at  Schweinitz.  Let  us  next  see 
what  happened  in  the  evening  of  the  same  day  at 
Wittemberg.  We  now  return  to  the  firmer  ground 
of  history. 

The  admonitions  of  Luther  had  produced  but  Ittle 
effect :  Tetzel,  without  disturbing  himself,  continued 
his  traffic  and  his  impious  addresses  to  the  people. f 

John  Huss. — This  is  one  of  the  particulars  that  may  have 
been  added  at  a  subsequent  period  ;  in  allusion  to  the  well- 
known  saying  of  Huss  himself. 

t  Cujus  impiis  et  nefariis  concionibus  incitatus  Lutherus 
studio  pietatis  ardens  edidit  propoitiones  de  indulgentiis. 
(Melancth.  Vita.  Luth.) 


THESES. 


Shall  Luther  submit  to  these  grievous  abuses  1  shall  he 
keep  silence  ?  As  a  pastor,  he  has  powerfully  exhorted 
those  who  attended  his  ministry  ;  and,  as  a  preacher, 
he  has  uttered  a  warning  voice  from  the  pulpit.  He 
has  yet  to  speak  as  a  divine  ;  he  has  yet  to  address 
himself,  not  mearly  to  a  few  persons  in  the  confession- 
al, not  merely  to  the  assembly  of  the  church  at  Wit- 
temberg,  but  to  all  those  who  are,  like  himself,  teach- 
ers of  God's  word.  His  resolution  is  formed. 

It  was  not  the  Church  that  he  thought  of  attacking  ; 
it  was  not  the  Pope  he  was  about  to  call  to  account ; 
on  the  contrary,  his  respect  for  the  Head  of  the  Church 
would  not  allow  him  to  be  any  longer  silent  in  regard 
to  assumptions,  by  which  the  Pope's  credit  was  dis- 
paraged. He  must  take  his  part  against  those  auda- 
cious men  who  dared  to  mix  up  his  venerable  name 
with  their  disgraceful  traffic.  Far  from  thinking  of  a 
Revolution  that  should  overthrow  the  primacy  of  Rome, 
Luther  conceived  that  he  had  the  Pope  and  Catholic- 
ism with  him,  against  the  effrontery  of  the  monks.* 

The  feast  of  All  Saints  was  a  very  important  day 
at  Wittemberg,  and  especially  at  the  church  which  the 
Elector  had  built  and  filled  with  relics.  On  this  occa- 
sion those  relics,  encasased  in  gold  and  silver,  and 
adorned  with  precious  stones,  were  set  out  to  dazzle  the 
eyes  of  the  people  with  their  magnificence.!  Who- 
ever on  that  day  visited  the  church,  and  there  confes- 
sed himself,  obtained  a  plenary  indulgence.  On  that 
great  day  the  pilgrims  flocked  in  crowds  to  Wittem- 
berg. 

Luther,  whose  plan  was  already  formed,  went  boldly 
on  the  evening  of  the  31st  October,  1517,  to  the  church 
toward  which  the  superstitious  crowds  of  pilgrims 
were  flocking,  and  affixed  to  the  door  ninety -five  theses 
or  propositions,  against  the  doctrine  of  indulgences. 
Neither  the  Elector,  nor  Staupitz,  nor  Spalatin,  nor  any 
of  his  friends,  even  those  most  intimate  with  him,  had 
any  previous  intimation  of  his  design. t 

Luther  therein  declared,  in  a  kind  of  preamble,  that 
he  had  written  these  theses  in  a  spirit  of  sincere  charity, 
and  with  the  express  desire  of  bringing  the  truth  to 
light.  He  declared  himself  ready  to  defend  them, 
next  day,  at  the  university  itself,  against  all  opposers. 

The  attention  excited  by  them  was  very  great ;  and 
they  were  read  and  repeated  on  all  sides.  The  pilgrims, 
the  university,  and  the  whole  city,  were  soon  in  confu- 
sion. The  following  are  some  of  the  propositions 
written  by  the  pen  of  the  monk,  and  posted  on  the 
door  of  the  chuch  of  Wittemberg  : 

"  1.  When  our  Master  and  Lord  Jesus  Christ  says, 
*  Repent,'  he  means  that  the  whole  life  of  his  faithful 
servants  upon  earth  should  be  a  constant  and  continual 
repentance. 

"  2.  This  cannot  be  understood  of  the  sacrament  of 
penance,  (that  is  to  say,  of  confession  and  satisfaction,) 
as  administered  by  the  priest. 

"  3.  However,  our  Lord  does  not  here  speak  only 
of  inward  repentance  :  inward  repentance  is  invalid,  if 
it  does  not  produce  outwardly  every  kind  of  mortifica- 
tion of  the  flesh. 

"  4.  Repentance  and  grief — that  is  to  say,  true 
penitence,  lasts  as  long  as  a  man  is  displeased  with 
himself — that  is  to  say,  till  he  passes  from  this  life  to 
eternal  life. 

"  5.  The  Pope  has  no  power  or  intention  to  remit 
any  other  penalty  than  that  which  he  has  imposed,  ac- 
cording to  his  good  pleasure,  or  conformably  to  the 
canons,  that  is  to  say,  to  the  Papal  ordinances. 

*  Et  in  iis  certus  mihi  videbar,  me  habiturum  patronum 
papam  cujus  fiducia  tune  fortiter  nitebar.  (L.  Opp.  in  praef.) 

t . . . .  Quas  magnifico  apparatu  publice  populis  ostendi  cu- 
ravit.  (Cochlffius,  4.) 

J  Cum  hujus  disputationis  nullus  etiam  intimorum  amico- 
rum  fuerit  COQSCiuB  (L.  Epp.  i.  186.) 


"  6.  The  Pope  cannot  remit  any  condemnation  ;  but 
can  only  declare  and  confirm  the  remission  that  God 
himself  has  given  ;  except  only  in  cases  that  belong 
to  him.  If  he  does  otherwise,  the  condemnation  con- 
tinues the  same. 

"  8.  The  laws  of  ecclesiastical  penance  cart  only  be 
imposed  on  the  living,  and  in  no  wise  respect  the  dead. 

V21.  The  commissioners  of  indulgences  arc  in  er- 
ror in  saying,  that,  through  the  indulgence  of  the  Pope, 
man  is  delivered  from  all  punishment,  and  saved. 

"  25.  The  same  power,  that  the  Pope  has  over 
purgatory  in  the  Church  at  large,  is  possessed  by  every 
bishop  in  his  diocese,  and  every  curate  in  his  parish. 
•N/  "  27.  Those  persons  preach  human  inventions  who 
pretend  that,  at  the  very  moment  when  the  money 
sounds  in  the  strong  box,  the  soul  escapes  from  pur- 
gatory. 

"  28.  This  is  certain  :  that,  as  soon  as  the  money 
sounds,  avarice  and  love  of  gain  come  in,  grow,  and 
multiply.  But  the  assistance  and  prayers  of  the  Church 
depend  only  on  the  will  and  good  pleasure  of  God. 

"  32.  Those  who  fancy  themselves  sure  of  their 
salvation,  by  indulgences,  will  go  to  the  devil  with  those 
who  teach  them  this  doctrine. 

"  35.  They  teach  anti-christian  doctrines  who  profess 
that,  to  deliver  a  soul  from  purgatory,  or  to  purchase 
an  indulgence,  there  is  no  need  of  sorrow  or  of  repen- 
tance. 

y  36.  Every  Christian  who  feels  true  repentance  for 
his  sins,  has  perfect  remission  from  the  punishment 
and  from  the  sin,  without  the  need  of  indulgences. 

"  37.  Every  true  Christian,  dead,  or  living,  is  a  par- 
taker of  all  the  riches  of  Christ,  or  of  the  Church,  by 
the  gift  of  God,  and  without  any  letter  of  indulgence. 

"  38.  Yet  we  must  not  despise  the  Pope's  distribu- 
tive and  pardoning  power,  for  his  pardon  is  a  declara- 
tion of  God's  pardon. 

"  40.  Repentance  and  real  grief  seek  and  love 
chastening  ;  but  the  softness  of  the  indulgence  relaxes 
the  fear  of  chastisment,  and  makes  us  averse  from  it. 

"42.  We  must  teach  Christians,  that  the  Pope 
neither  expects  nor  wishes  us  to  compare  the  act  of 
preaching  indulgences  with  any  charitable  work  what- 
soever. 

"  43.  We  must  teach  Christians,  that  he  who  gives 
to  the  poor,  or  lends  to  the  needy,  does  better  than  he 
who  buys  an  indulgence. 

"  44.  For  the  work  of  charity,  makes  charity  to 
abound,  and  renders  man  more  pious ;  while  the  in- 
dulgence makes  him  not  better,  but  only  more  confident 
in  himself,  and  more  secure  from  punishment. 

"  45.  We  must  teach  Christians,  that  he  who  sees 
his  neighbour  in  want,  and,  notwithstanding  that,  buys 
an  indulgence,  does  not  in  reality  acquire  the  Pope's 
indulgence,  and  draws  down  on  himself  the  anger  of 
God. 

"  46.  We  must  teach  Christians,  that  if  they  have 
no  superfluity,  they  are  bound  to  keep  for  their  fami- 
lies wherewith  to  procure  necessaries,  and  they  ought 
not  to  waist  their  money  on  indulgences. 

"  47.  We  must  teach  Christians,  that  the  purchase 
of  an  indulgence  is  not  a  matter  of  commandment,  but 
a  thing  in  which  they  are  left  at  liberty. 

"48.  We  must  teach  Christians,  that  the  Pope, 
having  more  need  of  the  prayer  of  faith,  than  of  money, 
desires  prayer  rather  than  money,  when  he  distributes 
indulgences. 

"  49.  We  must  teach  Christians,  that  the  Pope's  in- 
dulgence is  good  if  we  do  not  put  our  trust  in  it ;  but 
that  nothing  can  be  more  hurtful,  if  it  leads  us  to 
neglect  piety. 

11  50.  We  must  teach  Christians,  that  if  the  Pope 
knew  the  exactions  of  the  preachers  of  indulgences,  he 


THESES. 


73 


i 

Y  'hope 


would  rather  that  the  metropolitan  church  of  St.  Peter 
were  burnt  to  ashes,  than  see  it  built  up  with  the  skin, 
the  flesh,  and  bones  of  his  flock. 

"  51.  We  must  teach  Christians,  that  the  Pope,  as 
in  duty  bound,  would  willingly  give  his  own  money, 
though  it  should  be  necessary  to  sell  the  metropolitan 
church  of  St.  Peter  for  the  purpose,  to  the  poor  people, 
whom  the  preachers  of  indulgences  now  rob  of  their 
last  penny. 

'  52.  To  hope  to  be  saved  by  indulgences  is  to 
in  lies  and  vanity  ;  even  although  the  commis- 
sioner of  indulgences,  nay,  though  even  the  Pope 
himself,  should  pledge  his  own  soul  in  attestation  of 
their  efficacy. 

"  53.  They  are  the  enemies  of  the  Pope  and  of 
Christ,  who,  to  favour  the  preaching  of  indulgences, 
forbid  the  preaching  of  the  word  of  God. 

"  55.  The  Pope  can  think  no  otherwise  than  this  : 
If  the  indulgence  (which  is  the  lesser)  is  celebrated 
with  the  sound  of  a  bell,  and  pomp  and  ceremony, 
much  more  is  it  right  to  celebrate  the  preaching  of  the 
Gospel  (which  is  the  greater)  with  a  hundred  bells, 
and  a  hundred  times  more  pomp  and  ceremony. 

"  62.  The  true  and  precious  treasure  of  the  Church 
is  the  holy  Gospel  of  the  glory  and  grace  of  God. 

"  65.  The  treasures  of  the  Gospel  are  nets,  in  which 
it  formerly  happened  that  the  souls  of  rich  men,  living 
at  ease,  were  taken. 

v*"  66.  But  the  treasures  of  the  indulgence  are  nets, 
where  with  now  they  fish  for  rich  men's  wealth. 

"  67.  It  is  the  duty  of  bishops  and  pastors  to  receive 
with  all  respect  the  commissioners  of  the  apostolical 
indulgences. 

"  68.  But  it  is  much  more  their  duty  to  satisfy  them- 
selves, by  their  presence,  that  the  said  commissioners 
do  not  preach  the  dreams  of  their  own  fancy  instead 
of  the  Pope's  orders. 

"71.  Cursed  be  whosoever  speaks  against  the 
Pope's  indulgence. 

"  72.  But  blessed  be  he  who  opposes  the  foolish 

and  reckless  speeches  of  the  preachers  of  indulgences. 

N/4  78.  The  Pope's  indulgence  cannot  take  away  the 

least  of  our  daily  sins — so  far  as  the  blame  or  offence 

of  it  is  concerned. 

"  79.  To  say  that  the  cross,  hung  with  the  Pope's 
arms,  is  as  powerful  as  the  cross  of  Christ,  is  blas- 
phemy. 

"  80.  The  bishops,  pastors,  and  divines,  who  allow 
these  things  to  be  taught  to  the  people,  will  have  to 
give  account  for  it. 

"81.  This  shameless  preaching — these  impudent 
praises  of  indulgences — make  it  difficult  for  the  learned 
to  defend  the  dignity  and  honour  of  the  Pope  against 
the  calumnies  of  preachers,  and  the  subtle  arid  artful 
questions  of  the  common  people. 

"  86.  Why,  say  they,  does  not  the  Pope  build  the 
metropolitan  church  of  St.  Peter's  with  his  own  money, 
rather  than  with  that  of  poor  Christians,  seeing  that  he 
is  richer  than  the  richest  Croessus  1 

"  92.  May  we  therefore  be  rid  of  those  preachers, 
who  say  to  the  Church  of  Christ  '  Peace,  peace,'  when 
there  is  no  peace, 

"  94.  We  must  exhort  Christians  to  endeavour  to 
follow  Christ,  their  head,  under  the  cross,  through  death 
and  hell. 

"  95.  For  it  is  better,  through  much  tribulation,  to 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  than  to  gain  a  carnal 
security  by  the  consolations  of  a  false  peace." 

Here  then  was  the  beginning  of  the  work.  The 
germs  of  the  Reformation  were  enclosed  in  these  theses 
of  Luther.  They  attacked  the  indulgences,  and  this 
drew  notice — but  under  this  attack  was  found  a  prin- 
ciple, which,  while  it  drew  much  less  of  the  people's 
K. 


attention,  was  one  day  to  overturn  the  edifice  of  the  Pa- 
pacy. The  evangelic  doctrine  of  a  free  and  gracious 
remission  of  sins  was  for  the  first  time  publicly  profes- 
sed. The  work  must  now  go  forward.  In  fact,  it  was 
evident,  that  whoever  should  receive  that  faith  in  the 
remission  of  sins  proclaimed  by  the  Doctor  of  Wittem- 
berg — whoever  should  possess  that  repentance,  that 
conversion,  and  that  sanctification,  of  which  he  urged 
the  necessity — would  no  longer  regard  human  ordi- 
nances, would  throw  off  the  bandages  and  restraints 
of  Rome,  and  acquire  the  liberty  of  God's  children. 
All  errors  would  fall  before  this  truth.  It  was  by  this 
that  the  light  had  just  entered  the  mind  of  Luther  ;  it 
was  likewise  by  it  that  the  light  was  ordained  to  spread 
in  the  Church.  A  clear  perception  of  this  truth  was 
what  had  been  wanting  to  the  earlier  Reformers. 
Hence  the  -unprofitableness  of  their  efforts.  Luther 
clearly  saw,  at  a  later  period,  that  in  proclaiming  jus- 
tification 'by  faith,  he  had  laid  the  axe  to  the  root  of 
the  tree.  "  It  is  doctrine  that  we  attack  in  the  follow- 
ers of  the  Papacy,"  said  he.  "  Huss  and  Wickliff 
only  attacked  their  life  ;  but  in  attacking  their  doctrine, 
we  seize  the  goose  by  the  throat.  Every  thing  depends 
on  the  word  of  God,  which  the  Pope  has  taken  from 
us  and  falsified.  I  have  overcome  the  Pope  because 
my  doctrine  is  according  to  God,  and  his  is  the  doctrine 
of  the  devil."* 

We  also  in  our  day  have  lost  sight  of  this  cardinal 
doctrine  of  justification  by  faith,  though  not  in  the 
same  way  as  our  fathers.  "  In  Luther's  time,"  says 
one  of  our  contemporaries,t  "  the  remission  of  sins 
cost  some  money  at  least ;  but  in  our  days,  every  one 
takes  it  gratuitously  to  himself."  There  is  much  ana- 
logy between  these  two  false  notions.  In  our  error 
there  is  perhaps  more  forgetful  ness  of  God  than  that 
which  prevailed  in  the  16th  century.  The  principle 
of  justification  by  God's  free  grace,  which  delivered 
the  Church  from  such  deep  darkness  at  the  period  of 
the  Reformation,  can  alone  renew  this  generation,  ter- 
minate its  doubts  and  waverings,  destroy  the  egotism 
which  consumes  it,  establish  morality  and  uprightness 
among  the  nations — in  a  word,  bring  back  to  God  the 
world  which  has  forsaken  him. 

But  if  these  theses  of  Luther  were  strong  in  the 
strength  of  the  truth  they  proclaimed,  they  were  no 
less  powerful  in  the  faith  of  him  who  declared  himself 
their  champion.  He  had  boldly  drawn  the  sword  of 
the  word.  He  had  done  this  in  reliance  on  the  power 
of  truth.  He  had  felt  that,  in  dependance  on  the 
promises  of  God,  something  might  be  hazarded,  as  the 
world  would  express  it.  "  Let  him  who  resolves  to 
begin  a  good  work,"  (said  he  speaking  of  this  bold 
attack,)  "  undertake  it,  relying  on  the  goodness  of  the 
thing  itself,  and  in  no  degree  on  any  help  or  comfort  to 
be  derived  from  men — moreover  let  him  not  fear  men, 
nor  the  whole  world.  For  that  text  shall  never  be 
falsified  :  '  It  is  good  to  trust  in  the  Lord,  and  he  that 
trusteth  in  him  shall  certainly  never  be  confounded.' 
But  as  for  him  who  will  not,  or  cannot,  venture  some- 
thing, trusting  in  God,  let  him  carefully  abstain  from 
undertaking  anything."}  We  cannot  doubt  that  Lu- 
ther, after  having  fixed  his  theses  on  the  door  of  the 
church  of  All  Saints,  withdrew  to  his  peaceful  cell, 
filled  with  that  peace  and  joy  which  flow  from  an  ac- 
tion done  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  for  the  cause 
of  everlasting  truth. 

Whatever  boldness  may  appear  in  these  theses,  we 
still  discover  in  them  the  monk  who  would  refuse  to 
allow  a  single  doubt  as  to  the  authority  of  the  Roman 
See.  But  in  attacking  the  doctrine  of  indulgences, 

*  Wenn  man  die  Lehre  angreifft,  so  wird  die  Oans  am 
Krage  gegriffen.     (L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  p.  1369.) 
f  Harms  de  Kiel.         J  L.  Opp.  Leipz.  vi  p.  518. 


74 


LETTER  TO  ALBERT— THE  BISHOPS— SPREAD  OF  THE  THESES. 


Luther  had  unconsciously  borne  hard  upon  many  errors, 
the  discovery  of  which  could  not  be  agreeable  to  the 
Pope,  since  it  must  necessarily  lead,  sooner  or  later,  to 
the  discrediting  his  supremacy.  Luther's  views,  at 
that  time,  did  not  extend  so  far  ;  but  he  felt  the  bold- 
ness of  the  step  he  had  just  taken,  and  thought,  there- 
fore, that  he  ought  to  qualify  it,  as  far  as  he  could,  con- 
sistently with  the  respect  he  owed  to  the  truth.  He 
consequently  put  forth  these  theses  only  as  doubtful 
propositions,  in  respect  to  which  he  solicited  informa- 
tion from  the  learned  ;  and  he  added  (in  accordance, 
it  is  true,  with  an  established  custom,)  a  solemn  pro- 
testation, by  which  he  declared  that  he  did  not  mean 
to  say  or  affirm  anything  that  was  not  founded  on  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  the  Fathers  of  the  Church,  and  the 
rights  and  decretals  of  the  court  of  Rome. 

Often  did  Luther,  in  after  times,  when  he  contem- 
plated the  vast  and  unexpected  consequences  of  this 
courageous  step,  feel  amazed  at  himself,  and  unable 
to  comprehend  how  he  had  dared  to  take  it.  The  truth 
was,  an  invisible  and  all-powerful  hand  here  held  the 
guiding  rein,  and  urged  on  the  herald  of  truth  in  a  road 
which  he  knew  not,  and  from  the  difficulties  of  which 
he  would  perhaps  have  shrunk,  had  he  been  aware  of 
them,  and  advanced  alone  and  of  his  own  will.  "  I 
entered  on  this  controversy,"  said  he,  "without  any 
settled  purpose  or  inclination,  and  entirely  unprepared 
...  I  call  God  to  witness  this,  who  sees  the  heart."* 

Luther  had  learned  what  was  the  source  of  these 
abuses.  A  little  book  was  brought  him,  adorned  with 
the  arms  of  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz  and  Magdeburg, 
containing  rules  to  be  followed  in  the  sale  of  the  in- 
dulgences. Thus  it  was  this  young  prelate,  this  ac- 
complished prince,  who  had  prescribed,  or  at  least 
sanstioned,  this  imposture.  Luther  saw  in  him  only 
a  superior,  whom  it  was  his  duty  to  honour  and  respect.f 
He  resolved  no  longer  to  beat  the  air,  but  rather  to 
apply  to  those  who  had  the  office  of  government  in  the 
church.  He  addressed  to  him  a  letter  full  of  frankness 
and  humility.  Luther  wrote  to  Albert  the  same  day 
he  placarded  his  theses. 

«'  Forgive  me,  most  reverend  father  in  Christ,  and 
most  illustrious  prince,  if  I,  who  am  the  very  meanest 
of  men,t  have  the  boldness  to  write  to  your  sublime 
grandeur.  The  Lord  Jesus  is  my  witness  that,  feeling 
how  small  and  contemptible  I  am,  I  have  long  delayed 
to  do  so.  Yet  let  your  highness  look  upon  an  atom  of 
dust,  and  in  your  episcopal  compassion  graciously  re- 
ceive my  request. 

"  Men  are  carrying  throughout  the  country  the  pa- 
pal indulgence,  under  your  grace's  name.  I  will  not 
so  much  accuse  the  clamours  of  the  preachers,  (for  I 
have  not  heard  them,)  as  the  false  opinions  of  simple 
and  ignorant  people,  who,  when  they  purchase  these 
indulgences,  think  themselves  sure  of  their  salva- 
tion. 

"  Great  God  !  the  souls  confided,  my  very  excellent 
father,  to  your  care,  are  trained  not  for  life,  but  for 
death.  The  strict  reckoning  that  will  one  day  be  re- 
quired of  you  increases  every  day.  I  could  no  longer 
keep  silence.  No  !  man  is  not  saved  by  the  work  or 
the  office  of  his  bishop.  Scarcely  even  is  the  righteous 
saved,  and  the  way  that  leadeth  unto  life  is  narrow. 
Why  then  do  the  preachers  of  indulgences,  by  empty 
fictions,  lull  the  people  in  carnal  security. 

"  The  indulgence  alone,  if  we  can  give  ear  to  them, 
is  to  be  proclaimed  and  exalted.  What,  is  it  not  the 
chief  and  only  duty  of  the  bishops  to  teach  the  people 

*  Casu  enim,  non  voluntate  nee  studio,  in  has  turbas  incidi ; 
Deum  ipsum  tester.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  in  prsef.) 

f  Domino  suo  et  pastori  in  Christo  venerabilitcr  metuendo. 
(Epp.  i.  p.  68.) 
k  t  Fex  hominum.    (Epp.  i.  p.  68.) 


the  gospel  and  the  love  of  Christ  ?*  Christ  himself 
has  nowhere  told  us  to  preach  indulgences,  but  he  has 
enjoined  us  to  preach  the  gospel.  How  horrid  and 
dangerous  then,  it  is  for  a  bishop  to  allow  the  gospel 
to  be  withheld,  and  the  indulgences  alone  to  be  con- 
tinually sounded  in  the  ears  of  the  people  ! 

"  Most  worthy  father  in  God,  in  the  instruction  of 
the  commissioners,  which  was  published  in  your 
grace's  name,  (certainly  without  your  knowledge,)  it 
is  said  that  the  indulgence  is  the  most  precious  trea- 
sure, that  by  it  man  is  reconciled  to  God,  and  that  re- 
pentance is  not  needed  by  those  who  purchase  it. 

"  What  can  I,  what  ought  I  to  do,  most  worthy 
bishop  and  serene  prince  1  Oh  !  I  entreat  your  high- 
ness, by  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  look  into  this  mat- 
ter with  paternal  vigilance,  to  suppress  this  book  en- 
tirely, and  to  order  the  preachers  to  address  to  the 
people  different  instructions.  If  you  neglect  to  do 
this,  prepare  yourself  to  hear  some  day  a  voice  lifted 
that  shall  refute  these  preachers,  to  the  great  disgrace 
of  your  most  serene  highness." 

Luther,  at  the  same  time,  sent  his  theses  to  the 
archbishop,  and  asked  him  in  a  postscript  to  read  them, 
in  order  to  convince  himself  of  the  little  dependance 
that  was  to  be  placed  on  the  doctrine  of  indulgences. 

Thus,  the  only  wish  of  Luther  was,  that  the  watch- 
men of  the  church  should  arouse  themselves,  and  en- 
deavour to  put  a  stop  to  the  evils  that  were  laying  it 
waste.  Nothing  could  be  more  noble  or  respectful 
than  this  letter  of  a  monk  to  one  of  the  greatest  princes 
of  the  church  and  of  the  empire.  Never  did  any  one 
act  more  in  the  spirit  of  Christ's  precept :  "  Render 
unto  Caesar  the  things  that  are  Coesar's,  and  unto  God 
the  things  that  are  God's."  This  conduct  bears  no  re- 
semblance to  that  of  the  reckless  revolutionist  who 
despises  dominions,  and  speaks  evil  of  dignities.  It 
is  the  conscientious  appeal  of  a  Christian  and  a  priest, 
who  renders  honour  to  all,  but,  above  all,  has  the  fear 
of  God  in  his  heart.  But  all  his  entreaties  and  sup- 
plications were  useless.  Young  Albert,  wholly  en- 
grossed by  pleasure,  and  the  pursuits  of  ambition,  made 
no  rely  to  this  solemn  address.  The  bishop  of  Bran- 
denburg, Luther's  ordinary,  a  learned  and  pious  man, 
to  whom  he  also  sent  the  theses,  replied,  that  he  was 
attacking  the  power  of  the  church;  that  he  would 
bring  upon  himself  much  trouble  and  grief;  that  the 
attempt  would  be  found  too  much  for  his  strength  ;.  and 
that  he  would  do  well  to  give  up  the  affair  altogether,  t 
The  princes  of  the  church  closed  their  ears  to  the  voice 
of  God,  which  was  making  itself  heard  in  so  affecting 
and  energetic  a  manner,  through  the  instrumentality  of 
Luther.  They  would  not  understand  the  signs  of  the 
times ;  they  were  struck  with  that  blindness  which 
has  already  accelerated  the  ruin  of  so  many  powers  and 
dignities.  "  They  both  thought,  at  that  time,"  as  Lu- 
ther afterward  observed,  "  that  the  pope  would  be  too 
powerful  for  a  poor  mendicant  monk  like  me." 

But  Luther  could  judge  better  than  the  bishops  of 
the  fatal  effects  of  indulgences  on  the  lines  and  morals 
of  the  people  ;  for  he  was  intimately  connected  with 
them.  He  saw  constantly  and  close  at  hand,  what  the 
bishops  only  knew  from  reports  that  could  not  be  de- 
pended on.  If  he  found  no  help  from  the  bishops,  God 
was  not  wanting  to  him.  The  Head  of  the  Church, 
who  sits  in  the  heavens,  and  to  whom  alone  all  power 
is  given  upon  earth,  had  himself  prepared  the  soil,  and 
committed  the  seed  to  the  hand  of  his  servant ;  he 
gave  wings  to  those  seeds  of  truth,  and  scattered  them, 
in  a  moment  over  the  whole  field  of  the  church. 

*  Ut  populus  Evangeliura  discat  atque  charitatera  Christi. 
(Epp.  i.  p.  68.) 

t  Ersollte  still  halten  j  e»  ware  eine  grosse  Sache.  (Math. 
13.) 


SPREAD,  RECEPTION,  AND  EFFECTS  OF  THE  THESES. 


75 


No  one  appeared  next  day  at  the  university,  to  im 
pugn  the  propositions  of  Luther.  Tetzel's  traffic  wa 
loo  generally  decried,  and  too  disreputable  for  any  othe 
person  than  himself,  or  one  of  his  followers,  to  dar 
to  accept  the  challenge.  But  these  theses  were  des 
tined  to  find  an  echo  beyond  the  vaulted  roof  of  the 
academy.  Hardly  had  they  been  nailed  to  the  churcl 
•door  of  the  castle  of  Wittemberg,  when  the  feeble  soum 
of  the  hammer  was  succeeded  by  a  thunderclap,  which 
shook  the  very  foundations  of  proud  Rome  ;  threatenet 
with  instant  ruin  the  walls,  gates,  and  pillars  of  the 
Papacy  ;  stunned  and  terrified  its  champions  ;  and,  a 
the  same  time,  awakened  from  the  slumber  of  erroi 
many  thousands  of  men.* 

These  theses  spread  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning 
Before  a  month  had  elapsed,  they  had  found  their  way 
to  Rome.  "  In  the  space  of  a  fortnight,"  says  a  con 
temporary  historian,  they  had  spread  over  Germany 
and  within  a  month  they  had  run  through  all  Christen- 
dom, as  if  angels  themselves  had  been  the  bearers  of 
them  to  all  men.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  the  stir 
they  occasioned. "f  They  were  afterward  translated 
into  Dutch,  and  into  Spanish  ;  and  a  traveller  carriec 
them  for  sale  as  far  as  Jerusalem.  "  Every  one,"  said 
Luther,  •"  was  complaining  of  the  indulgences,  and,  as 
all  the  bishops  and  doctors  had  kept  silence,  and  no  one 
was  inclined  to  take  the  bull  by  the  horns,  poor  Luther 
became  a  famous  doctor ;  because,  at  last,  said  they, 
one  doctor  was  found  who  dared  grapple  with  him 
But  I  did  not  like  this  glory,  and  I  thought  the  song 
in  too  high  a  key  for  my  voice."} 

Many  of  the  pilgrims,  who  had  flocked  from  all  sides 
to  Wittemberg  at  the  feast  of  AH  Saints,  took  back 
with  them — not  the  indulgences — but  the  famous  theses 
of  the  Augustine  monk.  Thus  they  helped  to  diffuse 
them.  Every  one  read  them,  meditating  and  com- 
mentating on  them.  Men  conversed  about  them  in 
convents  and  colleges.^  The  devout  monks,  who  had 
entered  the  convents,  that  they  might  save  their  souls, 
and  all  upright  and  well  intentioned  men,  rejoiced  at 
*o  simple  and  striking  a  confession  of  the  truth,  and 
heartily  desired  that  Luther  might  continue  the  work 
he  had  begun.  "  I  observe,"  says  one  very  worthy  of 
credit,  and  a  great  rival  of  the  Reformer,  (Erasmus,) 
speaking  to  a  cardinal,  "that  the  more  irreproachable 
man's  morals,  and  the  more  evangelical  their  piety, 
the  less  they  are  opposed  to  Luther.  His  life  is  com- 
mended even  by  those  who  cannot  endure  his  opinions. 
The  world  was  weary  of  a  method  of  teaching  in  which 
so  many  puerile  fictions  and  human  inventions  were 
mixed  up,  and  thirsted  for  that  living,  pure,  and  hidden 
stream  which  flows  from  the  veins  of  the  apostles  and 
evangelists.  The  genius  of  Luther  was  such  as  fitted 
him  for  these  things,  and  his  zeal  would  naturally  take 
fire  at  so  noble  an  enterprise."!! 

To  form  an  idea  of  the  various  but  prodigious  effect 
that  these  propositions  produced  in  Germany,  we 
should  endeavour  to  follow  them  wherever  they  pene- 
trated—into the  study  of  the  learned,  the  cell  of  the 
monk,  and  the  palaces  of  the  princes. 

Reuchlm  received  a  copy  of  them.  He  was  tired 
of  the  rude  conflict  he  had  waged  with  the  monks.  The 
strength  evinced  by  the  new  combatant  in  these  theses 
cheered  the  depressed  spirits  of  the  old  champion  of 
•letters,  and  gave  fresh  joy  to  his  drooping  heart. 
"  Thanks  be  to  God,11  exclaimed  he,  after  having  read 
them,  "  they  have  now  found  a  man  who  will  give 

»  Walther,  Nachr.  v.  Luther,  p.  45. 
t  Myconius,  Hist.  Ref.  p.  23. 

i  Das  Lied  wollte  meiner  Stimme  zu  hoch  wurden.  (L.Opp.) 
§  In  alle  hohe  Schulen  und  Closter.     (Math.  13.) 
H  Ad  hoc  prsestandum  mihi  videbatur  ille,  ut  natura  comptf- 
situs  et  accensus  studio.     (Erasna.  Epp.  Campegio  Cardinali, 


them  so  much  to  do,  that  they  will  be  very  glad  to  leave 
my  old  age  to  pass  away  in  peace." 

The  cautious  Erasmus  was  in  the  Low  Countries 
when  the  theses  reached  him.  He  inwardly  rejoiced 
to  see  his  secret  desires  for  the  reform  of  abuses  so 
courageously  expressed;  he  commended  their  author, 
only  exhorting  him  to  more  moderation  and  prudence. 
And  yet  when  some  one  in  his  presence  blamed  La- 
ther's violence,  "  God,"  said  Erasmus,  "  has  sent  a 
physician  who  cuts  into  the  flesh,  because,  without  such 
an  one,  the  disorder  would  become  incurable."  And 
when  afterward  the  Elector  of  Saxony  asked  his  opi- 
nion of  Luther's  affair — "  I  am  not  at  all  suprised," 
answered  he,  smiling,  "  that  he  has  occasioned  so  much 
disturbance,  for  he  has  committed  two  unpardonable 
offences— he  has  attacked  the  tiara  of  the  Pope,  and 
the  bellies  of  the  monks."* 

Doctor  Flek,  prior  of  the  cloister  of  Steinlausitx, 
bad  for  some  time  discontinued  reading  mass,  but  ho 
told  no  one  his  true  reason.  One  day  he  found  the 
theses  of  Luther  in  the  convent  refectory  :  he  took 
them  up,  and,  read ;  and  no  sooner  had  he  gone  through 
some  of  them,  than,  unable  to  suppress  his  joy,  he 
exclaimed,  "  Oh  !  now  at  last  one  is  come  who  has 
been  long  waited  for,  and  will  tell  you  all— look  there, 
monks  !"  Thence  glancing  into  futurity,  as  Mathesius 
remarks,  and  playing  on  the  word  Wittemberg  :  "  All 
the  world,"  said  he,  "  will  come  to  seek  wisdom  on 
;hat  mountain,  and  will  find  it."f  He  wrote  to  the- 
Doctor,  urging  him  by  all  means  to  continue  the 
glorious  struggle  with  courage.  Luther  calls  him  "  a 
man  full  of  joy  and  consolation," 

The  ancient  and  famous  Episcopal  See  of  Wurzburg 
was  then  filled  by  a  pious,  kind,  and  prudent  man, 
Laurence,  of  Bibra.  When  a  gentleman  came  to  an- 
nounce to  him  that  he  destined  his  daughter  for  the 
cloister,  "  Better  give  her  a  husband,"  said  he.  And 
added,  "  If  you  want  money  to  do  so,  I  will  lend 
you."  The  Emperor  and  all  the  princes  had  the 
lighest  esteem  for  him.  He  deplored  the  disorders 
of  the  Church,  and  especially  of  the  convents.  The 
heses  reached  him  also  in  his  episcopal  palace,  he  read 
hem  with  great  joy,  and  publicly  declared  that  he  ap- 
)roved  Luther's  view.  He  afterward  wrote  to  the 
Elector  Frederic  :  "  Do  not  let  the  pious  Doctor  Mar- 
in  Luther  leave  you,  for  the  charges  against  him  are 
unjust."  The  Elector  rejoiced  at  this  testimony,  co- 
ied  it  with  his  own  hand,  and  sent  it  to  the  Reformer. 

The  Emperor  Maximilian,  the  predecessor  of  Charles 
V.,  himself  read  and  admired  the  theses  of  the  monk 
of  Wittemberg.  He  perceived  the  wide  grasp  of  his 
houghts — he  foresaw  that  this  obscure  Augustine 
night  probably  become  a  powerful  ally  in  Germany,  in 
ler  struggle  with  Rome.  Accordingly,  he  sent  this 
message  to  the  Elector  of  Saxony  :  "  Take  care  of  the 
monk,  Luther,  for  a  time  may  come  when  we  may  have 
iced  of  him  :"t  and,  shortly  after,  meeting  Peffinger, 
he  confidential  adviser  of  the  Elector,  at  the  Diet — 
'Well!"  said  he,  "what  is  your  Augustine  about? 
Truly  his  propositions  are  not  to  be  despised.  He 

ll  show  wonders  to  the  monks."§ 

Even  at  Rome,  and  at  the  Vatican,  the  theses  were 
lot  so  ill  received.  Leo  X.  regarded  them  rather 
with  the  feelings  of  a  friend  of  learning  than  a  Pope, 
"he  amusement  they  gave  him  made  him  overlook 
he  stern  truths  they  contained  ;  and  when  Silvester 
~rierias,  the  master  of  the  sacred  palace,  besought  him 
o  treat  Luther  as  a  heretic,  he  answered:  "That 

*  Mullcr's  Denkw.  iv.  256 

t  Alle  Welt  von  dissem  Weissenberg,  Wcissheit  holen  und 
ekom  men.  (p.  13.) 

*  Dass  er  uns  den  Munch  Luther  fleissig  beware.     (Math. 

t  Schmidt,  Brand,  Reformationgesch.  p.  124. 


76 


MYCONIUS— APPREHENSIONS-OPPOSERS  AT  WITTEMBERG. 


•ame  brother,*  Martin  Luther,  is  a  man  of  talent,  and 
all  that  is  said  against  him  is  mere  monkish  jealousy." 
There  were  few  on  whom  the  theses  of  Luther  had 
more  effect  than  on  the  student  of  Annaberg,  whom 
Tetzel  had  so  unmercifully  repulsed.  Myconius  had 
entered  into  a  convent.  That  very  night  he  had 
dreamed  that  he  saw  a  wide  field  covered  with  ripe 
grain.  "  Reap,"  said  the  voice  of  him  who  seemed  to 
conduct  him  ;  and  when  he  excused  himself  as  unskil- 
led, his  guide  showed  him  a  reaper  labouring  at  his 
work  with  inconceivable  activity.  "  Follow  him,  and 
do  as  he  does,"f  said  his  guide.  Myconius,  panting, 
like  Luther,  for  holiness,  gave  himself  up  in  the  con- 
vent to  watchings,  fastings,  macerations,  and  all  the 
works  of  man's  invention.  But  in  the  end  he  aban- 
doned all  hope  of  attaining  the  object  of  his  pursuit. 
Ke  left  off  study  and  applied  himself  only  to  manual 
labours.  Sometimes  he  bound  books,  sometimes  he 
wrought  as  a  turner,  or  at  some  other  mechanical  oc- 
cupation. This  activity  of  body  was  unavailing,  how- 
ever, to  quiet  his  troubled  conscience.  God  had 
spoken  to  him  ;  he  could  not  relapse  into  his  former 
sleep.  This  distress  of  mind  lasted  several  years. 
Men  sometimes  imagine  that  the  paths  of  the  Refor- 
mers were  altogether  pleasant,  and  that  when  once 
they  had  rejected  the  burthensome  observances  of  the 
Church,  nothing  remained  but  ease  and  delight.  Such 

Esons  do  not  know  that  they  only  arrived  at  the  truth 
internal  struggles,  a  thousand  times  more  painful  than 
observances  to  which  servile  spirits  readily  sub- 
mitted. 

At  length  the  year  1517  arrived — the  theses  of 
Luther  were  published  ;  they  ran  through  all  lands — 
they  arrived  at  the  convent  in  which  the  student  of  An- 
naberg was  immured.  He  retired  with  another  monk, 
John  Voit,  into  a  corner  of  the  cloister,  that  he  might 
read  them  undisturbed.  J  There  was  indeed  the  truth 
he  had  learned  from  his  father — his  eyes  were  opened 
— he  felt  a  voice  within  him  responding  to  that  which 
(hen  resounded  throughout  Germany ;  and  a  rich  com- 
fort filled  his  heart.  "  I  see  clearly,"  said  he,  "  that 
Martin  Luther  is  the  reaper  whom  I  beheld  in  my  dream, 
and  who  taught  me  to  gather  in  the  ripe  corn."  Im- 
mediately he  began  to  profess  the  doctrine  which 
Luther  had  proclaimed.  The  monks  listened  to  him 
with  dismay,  combated  his  new  opinions,  and  exclaim- 
ed against  Luther  and  his  convent.  "  That  convent," 
replied  Myconius,  "  is  as  the  Sepulchre  of  our  Lord  ; 
some  men  attempt  to  hinder  Christ's  resurrection,  but 
they  cannot  succeed  in  their  attempt."  At  last  his 
superiors,  seeing  that  they  were  unable  to  convince 
him,  forbade  him  for  a  year  and  a  half  all  intercourse 
beyond  the  walls  of  his  convent ;  prohibiting  him  from 
writing  or  receiving  letters  ;  and  threatened  him  with 
perpetual  imprisonment.  However,  the  hour  of  deliver- 
ance came  also  to  him.  Appointed  shortly  after 
pastor  at  Zwickau,  he  was  the  first  who  openly  declar- 
ed against  the  Papacy  in  the  churches  of  Thuringia. 
"  Then  it  was  that  I  was  enabled,"  says  he,  "  to  labour 
with  my  venerable  father,  Luther,  in  the  harvest  of  the 
Gospel."  Jonas  has  designated  him  a  man  capable  of 
all  he  undertook. § 

Doubtless  there  were  other  souls,  besides  these,  to 
whom  the  theses  of  Luther  were  the  signal  of  life 
They  kindled  a  new  light  in  many  a  cell,  cabin,  and 
even  palace.  Whilst  those  who  sought,  in  monastic 
seclusion,  a  well-supplied  board,  a  life  of  indolence, 

*  Che  frate  Martino  Luthero  havevaun  bellissimo  ingegno, 
e  che  coteste  erano  invidie  fratesche.  (Brandelli  a  contem- 
porary of  Leo  and  a  Dominican.  Hist.  Trag.  pars  3. 

t  Melch.  Adami  Vita  Myconii. 

\  Legit  tune,  cum  Johanne  Voitio,  inangulum  abditus,  libel- 
los  Lutheri.  (Mel.) 

(j  Qui  potuit  quod  volunt. 


or  the  reverence  of  their  fellow-men,  observes  Mathe- 
aius,  heaped  reproaches  on  the  Reformer's  name — the 
monks  who  lived  in  prayer,  fastings,  and  mortifications, 
thanked  God,  when  they  heard  the  first  cry  of  that 
agle,  predicted  by  John  Huss  a  century  before.* 
Even  the  common  people,  who  understood  but  little 
of  the  theological  question,  and  only  knew  that  this 
man  protested  against  mendicant  friars  and  indolent 
monks,  hailed  him  with  shouts  of  joy.  An  extraordi- 
nary sensation  was  produced  in  Germany,  by  his  bold 
^repositions.  But  others  of  his  contemporaries  fore- 
saw their  serious  consequences,  and  the  many  obstacles- 
they  would  have  to  encounter.  They  loudly  expressed 
their  fears,  and  never  rejoiced  without  trembling. 

"  I  fear  much,"  wrote  Bernard  Adelman,  the  Excel- 
ent  canon  of  Augsburg,  to  his  friend,  Pirckheimer, 
'  that  the  worthy  man  will  be,  after  all,  obliged  to 
yield  to  the  avarice  and  power  of  the  partisans  of  in- 
dulgences. His  remonstrances  have  had  so  little 
effect,  that  the  bishop  of  Augsburg,  our  primate  and 
metropolitan, t  has  just  ordered,  in  the  pope's  name, 
fresh  indulgences  for  St.  Peter's,  at  Rome.  Let  him, 
without  losing  time,  seek  the  support  of  the  princes  ; 
"et  him  beware  of  tempting  God  ;  for  one  must  be 
void  of  common  sense  not  to  see  the  imminent  dan- 
ger in  which  he  stands."  Adelman  rejoiced  greatly 
when  a  report  was  current  that  King  Henry  VIII.  had 
nvited  Luther  to  England.  "  He  will  there,"  thought 
ic,  "  be  able  to  teach  the  truth  without  molestation." 
Many  there  were  who  thus  imagined  that  the  doctrine 
of  the  Gospel  needed  to  be  supported  by  the  power  of 
arinces.  They  knew  not  that  it  advances  without  any 
such  power,  and  that  often  the  alliance  of  this  power 
linders  and  weakens  it. 

The  celebrated  historian,  Albert  Krantz,  was  lying 
on  his  death-bed,  at  Hamburgh,  when  the  theses  of 
Luther  were  brought  to  him.  "  Thou  hast  truth  on 
thy  side,  Brother  Martin  !"  exclaimed  the  dying  man, 
"  but  thou  wilt  not  succeed.  Poor  monk,  get  thee  to 
thy  cell,  and  cry,  '  O  God,  have  mercy  on  me  !'  "J 

An  old  priest  of  Hexter,  in  Westphalia,  having  re- 
ceived and  read  the  theses  in  his  presbytery,  said,  in 
ow  German,  shaking  his  head  :  "  Dear  brother  Mar- 
tin, if  you  succeed  in  casting  down  that  purgatory,  and 
those  sellers  of  paper,  truly  you  will  be  a  great  man." 
Erbenius,  who  lived  a  hundred  years  later,  wrote  these 
lines  under  the  words  we  have  quoted  : 

Quid  vero,  nunc  si  viveret, 
Bonus  iste  clericus  diceret  ?^ 

Not  only  did  many  of  Luther's  friends  conceive  fears 
from  his  proceeding ;  several  expressed  to  him  their 
disapproval. 

The  bishop  of  Brandenburg,  grieved  at  seeing  so 
important  a  controversy  originating  in  his  own  diocese, 
would  have  wished  to  stifle  it.  He  resolved  to  set 
about  it  with  mildness.  "  I  find,"  said  he  to  Luther, 
by  the  abbot  of  Lenin,  "  nothing  in  the  theses  con- 
cerning the  indulgences,  at  variance  with  the  Catholic 
faith.  I  even  myself  condemn  those  imprudent  pro- 
clamations ;  but,  for  the  love  of  peace,  and  out  of  re- 
gard to  your  bishop,  cease  to  write  on  this  subject." 
Luther  was  embarrassed  that  so  distinguished  an  abbot, 
and  so  great  a  bishop,  should  address  him  with  such 
humility.  Moved  and  carried  away  by  the  first  im- 
pulse of  his  heart,  he  answered  :  "  I  consent ;  I  pre- 

*  Darvon  Magister  Johann.  Huss  geweissaget  (Math.  13.) 
t "  Totque  uxorum  vir,"  adds  he.    Heumanni  Documenta 
litt.  p.  167. 

JFrater,  abi  in  cellam,  et  die,  Miserere  mei.  (Lindner  in 
Luther's  Leben,  p.  93.) 

§  What  would  the  worthy  clerk  now  say, 
If  he  were  living  in  our  day  ? 


LUTHER'S  ANSWER— DEJECTION  OF  LUTHER— MOTIVES. 


77 


fer  obedience  even  to  the  working  of  miracles,  if  that 
were  possible  to  me."* 

The  elector  saw  with  regret  the  commencement  of 
a  contest,  legitimate,  doubtless,  but  one  of  which  the 
result  could  not  be  foreseen.  No  prince  more  sin- 
cerely desired  to  maintain  the  public  peace  than  Fre- 
deric. Yet,  now,  what  a  vast  conflagration  might 
not  this  little  fire  kindle  !  what  great  contentions,  what 
rending  asunder  of  the  nations,  might  this  quarrel  with 
the  monks  produce  !  The  elector  sent  Luther  re- 
peated intimations  of  his  uneasiness  on  the  subject.! 

In  his  own  order,  and  even  in  his  convent  of  Wit- 
temberg,  Luther  met  with  disapprobation.  The  prior 
and  the  sub-prior  were  frightened  at  the  outcry  made 
by  Tetzel  and  all  his  companions.  They  went  to 
brother  Martin's  cell,  alarmed  and  trembling  ;  "  Pray," 
said  they,  "  do  not  bring  disgrace  upon  your  order  ! 
The  other  orders,  and  especially  the  Dominicans,  are 
already  transported  with  joy,  to  think  that  they  are 
not  alone  in  their  obloquy."  Luther  was  affected  by 
these  words  ;  but,  soon  recovering  himself,  he  an- 
swered :  "  Dear  fathers  !  if  the  thing  is  not  of  God, 
it  will  come  to  nought  ;  if  it  is,  let  it  go  forward." 
The  prior  and  the  sub-prior  were  silent.  "  The  thing  is 
going  forward  still,"  adds  Luther,  after  having  related 
this  circumstance,  "  and,  if  it  please  God,  it  will  go 
on  better  and  better  to  the  end.  —  Amen  !"j 

Luther  had  many  other  attacks,  of  a  very  different 
kind,  to  endure.  At  Erfurth  he  was  accused  of  violence 
and  pride,  in  the  manner  in  which  he  condemned  the 
opinions  of  others  ;  a  reproach  to  which  those  persons 
are  generally  exposed,  who  have  that  strength  of  con- 
viction which  is  produced  by  the  word  of  God.  He 
was  reproached  with  haste  and  with  levity. 

"  They  require  modesty  in  me,"  replied  Luther, 
"  and  they  themselves  trample  it  under  foot  in  the 
judgment  they  pass  on  me  !  We  behold  the  mote  in 
another's  eye,  and  consider  not  the  beam  that  is  in 
our  own  eye.  The  truth  will  gain  no  more  by  my 
modesty  than  it  will  lose  by  my  rashness.  —  I  should 
like  to  know,"  continued  he,  addressing  himself  to 
Lange,  "  what  errors  you  and  your  divines  have  found 
in  my  theses'?  Who  does  not  know  that  we  can  sel- 
dom advance  a  new  id-ea  without  an  appearance  of 
pride,  and  without  being  accused  of  seeking  quarrels  ! 
If  humility  herself  attempted  anything  new,  those  of  a 
different  opinion  would  exclaim  that  she  was  proud.  § 
Why  were  Christ  and  all  the  martyrs  put  to  death  1 
Because  they  appeared  proud  despisers  of  the  wisdom 
of  the  times  in  which  they  lived,  and  because  they 
brought  forward  new  truths,  without  having  first  hum- 
bly consulted  the  oracles  of  the  old  opinions. 

"  Let  not  the  wise  men  of  the  present  day,  there- 
fore, expect  from  me  so  much  humility,  or,  rather,  hy- 
pocrisy, as  to  ask  their  judgment,  before  I  publish 
that  which  my  duty  calls  upon  me  to  proclaim.  What 
I  am  doing  will  not  be  effected  by  the  prudence  of 
man,  but  by  the  counsel  of  God.  If  the  work  is  of 
God,  who  shall  stop  it  "?  —  If  it  is  not,  who  can  forward 
it  1  Not  my  will,  not  theirs,  nor  ours,  but  Thy  will, 
thine,  holy  Father,  who  art  in  heaven  !" 

What  boldness,  what  noble  enthusiasm,  what  trust 
in  God  !  And  especially  what  truth  in  these  words  ; 
and  what  truth  for  all  times  1 

However,  the  reproaches-  and  accusations,  which 
were  brought  against  Luther  from  all  sides,  did  not 
fail  to  make  some  impression  upon  his  mind.  He  was 

Bene  sum  contcntus  :  malo  obedire  quam  miracula  facere, 
m  si  possem.     (Epp.  i.  71.) 
f  Suumque  dolorem  sspe  significavit,  metuens  discordias 


etiam  si  possem.     (Epp.  i.  71.) 
pe  si 
majores.     (Melanc.  Vita  Luth.) 


L.  Opp.  (L.)  vi.  p.  518. 
(jFingc  enim  ipsam  humilitatem  nova  conari,  statim  su- 
perbite  subjicietur  ab  iis  qui  aliter  aapiunt   (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  73.) 


deceived  in  his  expections.  He  had  expected  to  see 
the  heads  of  the  church,  the  most  distinguished  philo- 
sophers of  the  nation,  publicly  join  him  ;  but  it  was 
quite  otherwise.  A  word  of  encouragement,  hastily 
bestowed  at  the  outset,  was  all  that  the  more  favoura- 
bly disposed  afforded  him  ;  and  many  of  those  whom 
he  had  regarded  with  most  veneration,  were  loud  in 
their  condemnation  of  him.  He  felt  himself  alone  in 
the  church  ;  alone  against  Rome  ;  alone  at  the  foot  of 
that  ancient  and  formidable  citadel,  whose  foundations 
reached  to  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  whose  walls,  as- 
cending to  the  skies,  appeared  to  deride  the  presump- 
tuous stroke  which  his  hand  had  aimed  against  them.* 
He  was  disturbed  and  dejected  at  the  thought.  Doubts, 
which  he  thought  he  had  overcome,  returned  to  his 
mind  with  fresh  force.  He  trembled  to  think  that  he 
had  the  whole  authority  of  the  church  against  him. 
To  withdraw  himself  from  that  authority,  to  resist  that 
voice  which  nations  and  ages  had  humbly  obeyed,  to 
set  himself  in  opposition  to  that  church  which  he  had 
been  accustomed  from  his  infancy  to  revere  as  the 
mother  of  the  faithful ;  he,  a  despicable  monk, — it 
was  an  effort  beyond  human  power. t  No  one  step 
cost  him  so  much  as  this,  and  it  was,  in  fact,  this  that 
decided  the  fate  of  the  Reformation. 

No  one  can  describe  better  than  himself,  the  strug- 
gle he  then  suffered  in  his  mind.  "  I  began  this  af- 
fair," said  he,  "  with  great  fear  and  trembling.  What 
was  I  at  that  time  ?  a  poor,  wretched,  contemptible 
friar,  more  like  a  corpse  than  a  man.$  Who  was  I, 
to  oppose  the  pope's  majesty,  before  which,  not  only 
the  kings  of  the  earth  and  the  whole  world  trembled", 
but,  also,  if  I  may  so  speak,  heaven  and  hell  were 
constrained  to  obey  the  slightest  intimation  of  his  will? 
No  one  can  know  what  I  suffered  those  first  two 
years,  and  in  what  dejection,  I  might  say,  in  what  des- 
pair, I  was  often  plunged.  Those  proud  spirits,  who 
afterward  attacked  the  pope  with  such  boldness,  can 
form  no  idea  of  my  sufferings  ;  though,  with  all  their 
skill,  they  could  have  done  him  no  injury,  if  Christ  had 
not  inflicted  upon  him,  through  me,  his  weak  and  unwor- 
thy instrument,  a  wound  from  which  he  will  never  reco- 
ver. But  whilst  they  were  satisfied  to  look  on,  and 
leave  me  to  face  the  danger  alone,  I  was  not  so  happy, 
so  calm,  or  so  sure  of  success  ;  for  I  did  not  then  know 
many  things  which  now,  thanks  be  to  God,  I  do 
know.  There  were,  it  is  true,  many  pious  Chiristians, 
who  were  much  pleased  with  my  propositions,  and 
thought  highly  of  them.  But  I  was  not  able  to  recog- 
nise these,  or  look  upon  them  as  inspired  by  the  Holy 
Ghost ;  I  only  looked  to  the  pope,  the  cardinals,  the 
bishops,  the  theologians,  the  jurisconsults,  the  monks, 
the  priests.  It  was  from  thence  that  I  expected  the 
spirit  to  breathe.  However,  after  having  triumphed, 
by  means  of  the  Scriptures,  over  all  opposing  argu- 
ments, I  at  last  overcame,  by  the  grace  of  Christ, 
with  much  anguish,  labour,  and  great  difficulty,  the 
only  argument  that  still  stopped  me,  namely,  "  that  I 
must  hear  the  church  ;"§  for,  from  my  heart,  I  ho- 
noured the  church  of  the  pope  as  the  true  church ;  and  I 
did  so  with  more  sincerity  and  veneration  than  those  dis- 
graceful and  infamous  corrupters  of  the  church,  who, 
to  oppose  rne,  now  so  much  extol  it.  If  I  had 
despised  the  pope,  as  those  persons  do  in  their 
hearts,  who  praise  him  so  much  with  their  lips,  I  should 
have  feared  that  the  earth  would  open  at  that  in- 

*  Solus  primo  eram.     (L.  Opp.  lat.  in  prsef.) 

t  Concilium  imnianis  audaciae  plenum.     (Pallav.  i.  p.  17. 

{ Miserrimus  tune  fraterculus  cadaver!  similior  quam  h 
mini.    (L.  Opp.  lai.  i.  p.  49.) 

§  Et  cum  omnia  argumenta  superassem  per  Scripturas,  hoc 
unum  cum  summa  difficultate  et  angustia,  tandem  Christo 
favente,  vix  superavi,  Ecclesiam  scilicet  audienam.  (L.  Opp. 
lat.  i.  p.  49.) 


17.1 

m  ho- 


78 


TETZEL'S  ATTACK— LUTHER'S  ANSWER— LUTHER'S  BOLDNESS. 


slant,  and  swallow  me  up  alive,  like  Korah  and  his 
company." 

How  honourable  are  these  struggles  to  Luther's 
character !  what  sincerity,  what  uprightness  do  they 
evince  !  and  how  much  more  worthy  of  our  respect  is 
he  rendered  by  these  painful  assaults  from  within  and 
from  without,  than  he  could  have  been  by  an  intre- 
pidity untried  by  conflict.  This  travail  of  his  soul,  is 
good  evidence  of  the  truth  and  divine  nature  of  his 
work.  We  see  that  the  cause  and  principle  of  all  his 
actions  was  from  heaven.  Who  will  dare  to  say,  after 
all  the  characteristics  we  have  pointed  out,  that  the 
Reformation  was  a  political  affair  ]  No,  certainly,  it 
was  not  the  fruit  of  human  policy,  but  of  divine  power. 
If  Luther  had  only  been  actuated  by  human  passions, 
he  would  have  yielded  to  his  fears ;  his  disappoint- 
ments and  misgivings  would  have  smothered  the  fire 
that  had  been  kindled  in  his  soul,  and  he  would  only 
have  shed  a  transient  light  upon  the  church,  as  had 
been  done  before,  by  so  many  zealous  and  pious  men, 
whose  names  have  been  handed  down  to  posterity. 
But  now  God's  time  was  come ;  the  work  was  not  to  be 
arrested  ;  the  enfranchisement  of  the  church  must  be 
accomplished.  Luther  was  destined,  at  least,  to  pre- 
pare the  way  for  that  complete  deliverance,  and  that 
mighty  increase,  which  are  promised  to  the  kingdom 
of  Christ.  Accordingly,  he  experienced  the  truth  of 
that  glorious  promise  :  "The  youths  shall  faint  and 
be  weary,  and  the  young  men  shall  utterly  fail.  But 
they  that  wait  on  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength ; 
they  shall  mount  up  with  wings,  as  eagles."  And 
the  same  divine  power,  which,  animating  the  heart  of 
the  doctor  of  Wittemberg,  had  led  him  to  the  combat, 
soon  restored  his  former  courage. 

The  reproaches,  the  timidity,  or  the  silence  of  his 
friends,  had  discouraged  him  ;  the  attacks  of  his  ene- 
mies reanimated  him:  this  is  usually  the  case.  The  ad- 
versaries of  the  truth,  thinking,  by  their  violence,  to  do 
their  own  work,  did,  in  fact,  the  work  of  God.*  Tet- 
zel  took  up  the  gauntlet,  but  with  a  feeble  hand.  The 
sermon  of  Luther,  which  had  had  the  same  effect  upon 
the  common  people,  as  the  theses  had  had  upon  the 
learned,  was  the  first  thing  he  undertook  to  answer. 
He  replied  to  this  discourse,  sentence  by  sentence,  in 
his  own  manner ;  he  then  gave  notice  that  he  was 
preparing  to  confute  his  adversary  more  at  length,  in 
some  theses,  which  he  would  maintain  at  the  famous 
university  of  Frankfort,  upon  the  Oder.  "  Then/' 
said  he,  referring  to  the  conclusion  of  Luther's  ser- 
mon, "  every  one  will  be  able  to  discover  who  is  an 
heresiarch,  a  heretic,  a  schismatic, — who  is  in  error, 
who  is  rash,  who  is  a  slanderer.  Then  it  will  be  evi- 
dent, to  the  eyes  of  all,  who  has  '  a  gloomy  brain,' 
who  has  *  never  felt  the  Bible,  read  the  doctrines  of 
Christianity,  and  understood  his  own  teachers  ;' — and, 
in  defence  of  the  propositions  that  I  bring  forward,  I 
am  ready  to  suffer  any  punishment  whatsoever,  impri- 
sonment, bastinado,  water,  or  fire." 

One  thing  strikes  us  in  this  work  of  Tetzel's.  It  is 
the  difference  between  his  German,  and  that  of  Luther. 
It  seems  as  if  there  were  a  distance  of  several  ages  be- 
tween them.  A  foreigner,  especially,  finds  it  difficult 
to  understand  Tetzel ;  whilst  the  language  of  Luther 
is  almost  entirely  such  as  is  used  at  the  present  day. 
It  is  sufficient  to  compare  their  writings,  to  see  that 
Luther  is  the  father  of  the  German  language.  This  is 
undoubtedly  one  of  the  least  of  his  merits,  but  still  it 
is  a  merit. 

Luther  replied  to  this  attack,  without  naming  Tet- 
zel ; — Tetzel  had  not  named  him.  But  there  was  no 

*Hi  furores  Tezelii  et  ejus  satellitum  imponunt  necessita- 
tern  Luthero  de  rebus  iisdem  copiosius  disserendi  et  tucndce 
veritatis.  (Melancth.  Vita  Luth.) 


one  in  Germany  who  could  not  have  written,  in  the 
ront  of  their  productions,  the  names  which  the  authors- 
thought  fit  to  conceal.  Tetzel  endeavoured  to  confound" 
the  repentance  that  God  requires,  with  the  penitence 
that  the  church  imposes  ;  in  order  to  give  higher  value 
to  his  indulgences.  Luther  undertook  to  clear  up  this- 
point. 

"  To  avoid  many  wordsr"  said  her  in  his  own  pic- 
turesque language,  "I  give  to  the  winds  (which have 
more  leisure  than  I  have,)  his  other  remarks,  which 
are  but  paper  flowers,  and  dry  leaves,  and  I  content 
myself  with  examining  the  foundation  of  his  edifice  of 
burrs." 

'  The  penitence  imposed  by  the  holy  Father,  cannot 
>e  the  repentance  required  by  Christ :  for  what  the 
ioly  Father  imposes,  he  can  dispense  with  ;  and  if 
these  two  penitences  are  one  and  the  same  thing,  it 
"ollows  that  the  holy  father  takes  away  what  Christ 
mposes,  and  destroys  the  commandment  of  God.  Let 
iim  only  ill-treat  me"  continues  Luther,  after  having; 
quoted  other  false  interpretations  of  Tetzel,  "let  him 
call  me  a  heretic,  schismatical,  slanderous,  and  what- 
ever he  pleases  ;  I  shall  not  be  his  enemy  on  that  ac- 
count ; — nay,  so  far  from  it,  I  will,  on  that  account, 
pray  for  him  as  for  a  friend.  But  it  cannot  be  en- 
dured that  he  should  treat  the  holy  Scripture,  our  con- 
solation, as  a  sow  treats  a  sack  of  oats."* 

We  must  accustom  ourselves  to  find  Luther  some- 
times using  expressions  too  coarsely  vituperative  for 
modern  taste  :  it  was  the  custom  of  the  time  ;  and  we 
generally  find  in  those  words  which  shock  our  notions  of 
propriety  in  language,  a  suitableness  and  strength- 
which  redeem  their  harshness.  He  continues  : 

"  He  who  purchases  indulgences,"  say  our  adver- 
saries again,  "  does  better  than  he  who  gives  alms  to 
a  poor  man,  unless  he  be  reduced  to  the  greatest  ex- 
tremity. Now,  if  they  tell  us  that  the  Turks  are  pro- 
faning our  churches  and  crosses,  we  may  hear  it  with- 
out shuddering,  for  we  have  among  ourselves  Turks  a 
hundred  times  worse,  who  profane  and  annihilate  the 
only  true  sactuary,  the  word  of  God,  which  sanctifies 
all  things.  .  .  .  Let  him,  who  wishes  to  follow  this 
precept,  take  good  care  not  to  feed  the  hungry,  or  to 
clothe  the  naked,  before  they  die  of  want,  and  conse- 
quently have  no  more  need  of  assistance." 

It  is  important  to  compare  Luther's  zeal  for  good 
works,  with  what  he  says  about  justification  by  faith. 
Indeed,  no  one  who  has  any  experience  and  knowledge 
of  Christianity,  wants  this  new  proof  of  a  truth  of  which 
he  has  felt  the  fullest  evidence  ;  namely,  that  the  more 
firmly  we  hold  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith,  the 
better  we  know  the  necessity  of  works,  and  the  more 
diligent  we  are  in  the  practice  of  them  ;  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  any  laxity  of  the  doctrine  of  faith,  brings 
with  it,  of  a  necessity,  a  neglect  of  good  works.  Lu- 
ther, St.  Paul  before  him,  and  Howard  after  him,  are 
proofs  of  the  former  assertion.  All  men  without  this 
faith — and  the  world  is  full  of  such — give  proof  of  the 
latter. 

Luther  proceeds  to  refer  to  the  insults  of  Tetzel, 
and  returns  them  in  this  fashion  :  "  It  seems  to  me, 
at  the  sound  of  these  invectives,  that  I  hear  a  great  ass 
braying  at  me.  I  rejoice  at  it,  and  should  be  very 
sorry  that  such  people  should  call  me  a  good  Chris- 
tian.". .  .  We  must  represent  Luther  such  as  he  was, 
and  with  all  his  weakness.  This  inclination  to  humour 
and  even  low  humour,  was  one  of  them.  He  was  a 
great  man,  a  man  of  God  ;  but  he  was  a  man  and  not 
an  angel,  nor  even  a  perfect  man.  Who  has  the  right 
to  require  this  in  him? 

"  Furthermore,"  adds  he,  defying  and  challenging 

*Das  er  die  Schrift.  unsern  Trost.  nicht  anders  behandelt 
wie  die  Sau  sinen  Habersack. 


LUTHER  AND  SPALATIN— STUDY  OF  THE  SCRIPTURES. 


79 


his  adversaries  to  combat,  "  although  for  such  things 
it  is  not  the  custom  to  burn  heretics,  here  am  I,  at 
Wittemberg,  I,  Doctor  Martin  Luther  !  and  if  there 
is  any  inquisitor  who  wishes  to  chew  iron,  or  blow  up 
rocks,  I  give  him  notice  that  he  may  have  a  safe-con- 
duct hither,  open  gates,  a  good  table,  and  a  lodging 
prepared  for  him,  all  through  the  gracious  care  of  the 
worthy  prince,  Duke  Frederic,  Elector  of  Saxony,  who 
will  never  be  the  protector  of  heretics."* 

We  see  that  Luther  was  not  wanting  in  courage. 
He  trusted  in  the  word  of  God,  and  that  is  a  rock 
that  never  fails  to  shelter  us  in  the  storm.  But  God 
in  his  faithfulness  also  afforded  him  other  assistance. 
To  the  bursts  of  joy  with  which  the  multitude  received 
the  theses  of  Luther,  had  succeeded  a  mournful  silence. 
The  learned  had  timidly  withdrawn  when  they  heard 
the  calumnies  and  insults  of  Tetzel,  and  of  the  Domi- 
nicans. The  bishops,  who  had  before  loudly  blamed 
the  abuse  of  the  indulgences,  seeing  them  at  last  at- 
tacked, had  not  failed,  as  is  always  the  case,  to  disco- 
ver that  the  attack  was  unseasonable.  The  greater 
part  of  the  Reformer's  friends  were  alarmed.  Every 
one  shrunk  back.  But  when  the  first  alarm  was  over, 
a  change  took  place  in  the  minds  of  men.  The  monk 
of  Wittemberg,  who,  for  some  time,  had  been  almost 
alone  in  the  Church,  soon  saw  himself  again  surround- 
ed by  a  multitude  of  friends  and  admirers. 

There  was  one  who,  though  timid,  still  remained 
faithful  to  him  at  this  crisis,  and  whose  friendship  was  a 
consolation  and  support.  This  was  Spalatin.  Their 
correspondence  had  been  kept  up.  "  I  return  you 
thanks,"  he  says  to  him,  speaking  of  a  special  mark  of 
friendship  he  had  received  from  him,  "  but  what  do  I 
not  owe  youV'f  It  was  on  the  llth  of  November, 
1517,  eleven  days  after  the  publication  of  the  theses, 
and  consequently  at  the  moment  when  the  minds  of 
the  people  were  in  the  greatest  ferment,  that  Luther 
thus  poured  forth  his  gratitude  to  his  friend.  It  is 
interesting  to  see  in  this  very  letter  to  Spalatin,  how 
this  strong  man,  who  had  just  performed  an  action  re- 
quiring so  much  courage,  acknowledges  whence  his 
strength  is  derived.  "  We  can  do  nothing  of  ourselves ; 
we  can  do  all  things  by  the  grace  of  God.  Ignorance 
in  any  measure  is  altogether  beyond  our  power  to 
overcome.  There  is  no  ignorance  so  dark  but  the 
grace  of  God  can  dispel  it.  The  more  we  labour  by 
our  own  strength  to  attain  wisdom,  the  more  infatu- 
ated we  become.^  And  it  is  not  true  that  this  invinci- 
ble ignorance  excuses  the  sinner,  for  otherwise  there  is 
no  such  thing  as  sin  in  the  world." 

Luther  had  sent  his  propositions  neither  to  the  prince 
nor  to  any  of  his  courtiers.  It  appears  that  the  chap- 
lain expressed  some  surprise  at  this.  "  I  did  not  wish," 
answered  Luther,  "  that  my  theses  should  reach  the 
hands  of  our  illustrious  prince,  or  any  of  his  circle,  be- 
fore those  who  think  they  are  therein  referred  to  had 
received  them,  lest  they  should  suppose  that  I  publish- 
ed them  by  the  prince's  direction,  or  to  court  his  favour, 
and  out  of  ill  will  to  the  bishop  of  Mentz.  I  am  told 
there  are  several  who  fancy  this — but  now  I  can  safely 
affirm,  that  my  theses  were  published  without  the  pri- 
vity of  Duke  Frederic. "$ 

If  Spalatin  comforted  his  friend,  and  supported  him 
with  all  his  influence,  Luther,  on  his  part  endeavoured 
to  answer  all  the  enquiries  addressed  to  him  by  the 
diffident  chaplain.  Among  his  questions  was  one 

*  L.  Opp.  Lcips.  xvii.  132 

f  Tibi  gratias  ago  :  imo  quid  tibi  non  de  beo  ?  (L.  Epp.  i. 
p.  74.) 

j.  Quanto  magis  conamur  ex  nobis  ad  sapientiam,  tanto  am- 
plius  appropinquamus  insipientise.  (L.  Epp  i.  p.  74.) 

§  Sea  salvum  est  nunc  etiam  jurare,  quod  sine  scitu  duels 
Frederici  exierint.  (Ibid.  p.  76.) 


which  is  often  proposed  in  our  day.  "  What,"  asked 
he,  "  is  the  best  method  of  studying  the  Scriptures  1" 

"  Hitherto,"  answered  Luther,  "  worthy  Spalatin, 
you  have  asked  only  things  I  was  able  to  answer.  But 
to  guide  you  in  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scripture  is  be- 
yond my  strength.  However,  if  you  insist  on  knowing 
my  method  I  will  not  conceal  it  from  you. 

"  It  is  most  plain  we  cannot  attain  to  the  understand- 
ing of  Scripture  either  by  study  or  by  strength  of  intellect. 
Therefore  your  first  duty  must  be  to  begin  with  prayer.* 
Entreat  the  Lord  to  deign  to  grant  you,  in  his  rich 
mercy,  rightly  to  understand  his  word.  There  is  no 
other  interpreter  of  the  word  of  God  but  the  author  of 
that  word  himself ;  even  as  He  has  said,  '  They  shall  all 
be  taught  of  God.'  Hope  nothing  from  your  study,  or 
the  strength  of  your  intellect ;  but  simply  put  your 
trust  in  God,  and  in  the  guidance  of  his  Spirit.  Be- 
lieve one  who  has  made  trial  of  this  method."!  Here 
we  see  how  Luther  attained  to  the  possession  of  the 
truth  which  he  preached  to  others.  It  was  not,  as 
some  have  said,  by  following  the  guidance  of  his  own 
presumptuous  reason  ;  nor  was  it,  as  others  assert,  by 
surrendering  himself  to  the  contentious  passions.  He 
drew  from  the  purest  and  holiest  spring,  by  humble,  trust- 
ing, and  prayerful  enquiry  of  God  himself.  But  then, 
there  are  few  men  of  this  age  who  follow  his  example  ; 
and  hence  it  is  that  there  are  few  who  understand  him. 
To  a  thoughtful  mind  these  words  of  Luther  are  of 
themselves  a  justification  of  the  Reformation. 

Luther  also  found  consolation  in  the  friendship  of 
respectable  laymen.  Christopher  Scheurl,  the  worthy 
town-clerk  of  the  imperial  city  of  Nuremberg,  at  this 
time  afforded  him  some  affecting  marks  of  his  regard. $ 
How  sweet  to  the  heart  of  a  man  encompassed  with 
adversaries  is  every  intimation  of  interest  felt  in  his 
success  !  The  town-clerk  of  Nuremberg  went  fur- 
ther ;  he  wished  to  bring  over  other  friends  to  the  man 
he  himself  befriended.  He  proposed  to  him  that  he 
should  dedicate  one  of  his  writings  to  Jerome  Ebner, 
a  jurisconsult  of  Nuremberg,  who  was  then  in  great 
repute.  "  You  have  a  high  notion  of  my  labours," 
answered  Luther,  modestly ;  "  but  I  myself  have  a  very 
poor  opinion  of  them.  It  was  my  wish,  however,  to 
comply  with  your  desire.  I  looked — but  among  all 
my  papers,  which  I  never  before  thought  so  meanly  of, 
I  could  find  nothing  but  what  seemed  totally  unworthy 
of  being  dedicated  to  so  distinguished  a  person  by  so 
humble  an  individual  as  myself."  Touching  humility  ! 
The  words  are  those  of  Luther — and  he  is  speaking 
of  the  comparatively  unknown  name  of  Doctor  Ebner  1 
Posterity  has  not  ratified  his  estimate. 

Luther,  who  made  no  attempt  to  circulate  his  theses, 
had  not  only  abstained  from  sending  them  to  the  Elec- 
tor and  his  court,  but  had  not  even  sent  them  to  Scheurl. 
The  town- clerk  of  Nuremberg  expressed  some  sur- 
prise at  this.  "  My  design,"  answered  Luther,  "  was 
not  to  make  them  so  public.  I  wished  to  discuss  the 
various  points  comprised  in  them  with  some  of  our 
associates  and  neighbours.^  If  they  had  condemned 
them,  I  would  have  destroyed  them  ;  if  they  had  ap- 
proved them,  I  would  have  published  them.  But  now 
they  have  been  printed  again  and  again,  and  circulated 

*  Primum  id  certissimum  est,  sacras  litteras  non  posse  vel 
studio,  vel  ingenio  penetrari.  Ided  primum  officium  est  ut  ab 
oratione  incipias. 

t  Jgitur  de  tuo  studio  desperes  oportet  omnino,  simul  et 
ingenio.  Deo  autem  soli  confidas  et  influxui  spiritu.  Exper- 
to  crede  ista.  (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  88. 18.  Jan.) 

\  "Literae  tuae,"  wrote  Luther  to  him,  on  the  llth  of  Decem- 
ber, 1517,  "  animum  tuum  erga  meam  parvitatem  candidum 
et  longe  ultra  merita  benevolentissimum  probaverunt."  (L. 
Epp.  i.  p.  79.) 

^  Non  fuit  consilium  neque  yotum  eas  evulgari,  sed  cnm 
paucis  apud  et  circum  nos  habitantibus  primum  super  ipsis 
conferri.  (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  95.) 


80 


SCHEURL  AND  LUTHER— ALBERT  DURER— TETZEL'S  REPLY. 


so  far  beyond  all  my  expectations,  that  I  regret  the 
production  of  them  ;"*  not  that  I  fear  the  truth  being 
made  known  to  the  people,  for  that  is  rny  object ;  but 
they  are  not  in  the  best  form  for  general  instruction. 
They  contain  some  points,  too,  which  are  still  ques- 
tionable in  my  own  judgment.  And  if  I  had  thought 
they  would  have  made  such  an  impression,  there  are 
propositions  that  I  would  have  left  out,  and  others  that 
I  would  have  asserted  with  greater  confidence."  Luth- 
er afterward  thought  differently.  Far  from  fearing  that 
he  had  said  too  much,  he  declared  he  ought  to  have 
spoken  out  much  more  fully.  But  the  apprehensions  that 
Luther  evinced  to  Scheurl  do  honour  to  his  sincerity. 
They  shew  that  he  had  no  preconceived  plan,  or  party 
purpose  ;  that  he  was  free  from  self-conceit,  and  was 
seeking  the  truth  alone.  When  he  had  discovered  it 
in  its  fulness,  his  language  was  changed.  "  You  will 
find  in  my  earlier  writings,"  said  he,  many  years  after- 
ward, "  that  I  very  humbly  conceded  to  the  Pope 
many  and  important  things  which  I  now  abhor  and 
regard  as  abominable  and  blasphemous." t 

Scheurl  was  not  the  only  layman  of  consideration 
who  then  manifested  a  friendly  disposition  toward  Lu- 
ther. The  famous  painter,  Albert  Durer,  sent  him  a 
present,  probably  one  of  his  productions,  and  the  Doc- 
tor expressed  his  gratitude  for  the  gift.J 

Thus  Luther,  at  that  time,  experienced  in  his  own 
person  the  truth  of  the  divine  word  :  "  A  friend  loveth 
at  all  times;  and  a  brother  is  born  for  adversity."  But 
he  recalled  the  passage  for  comfort  to  others  as  well 
as  to  himself. 

He  pleaded  for  the  entire  nation.     The  Elector  had 
just  levied  a  tax,  and  it  was  affirmed  that  he  was  about 
to  levy  another,  in  accordance,  probably,  with  the  ad- 
vice of  Pfeffinger,  his  counsellor,  whose  conduct  was 
often  the  subject  of  Luther's  strictures.     The  Doctor 
boldly  placed  himself  in  the  breach.     "  Let  not  your 
Highness,"  said  he,  "  despise  the  prayer  of  a  poor  friar. 
I  beseech  you,  in  God's  name,  not  to  impose  any  fur- 
ther tax.     I  was  heart-broken — and  so  were  many  of 
those  who  are  most  devoted  to  you — at  seeing  to  what 
a  degree  the  last  had  injured  your  Highness's  fair  name 
and  popularity.     It  is  true  that  God  has  endowed  you 
with  a  lofty  judgment,  so  that  you  see  further  into  the 
consequences  of  these  things  than  I  or  your  subjects 
in  general.     But  it  may  be  the  will  of  God  that  a 
meaner  capacity  shall  minister  instruction  to  a  greater 
— to  the  end  that  no  one  may  trust  in  himself,  but  sim- 
ply in  the  Lord  our  God.     May  he  deign,  for  our  good, 
to  preserve  your  body  in  health,  and  your  soul  for  ever- 
lasting blessedness.     Amen."     Thus  the  Gospel,  while 
it  honours  kings,  pleads  the  cause  of  the  people.     It 
instructs  subjects  in  their  duties,  and  it  calls  upon 
princes  to  be  regardless  of  their  subjects'  rights.     The 
voice  of  such  a  Christian  man  as  Luther,  speaking  in 
the  secret  chamber  of  a  sovereign,  may  often  do  more 
than  can  be  effected  by  a  whole  assembly  of  legislators. 
In  this  same  letter,  in  which  Luther  inculcated  a 
stern  lesson  to  his  prince,  he  was  not  afraid  to  ask  a 
boon  of  him,  or  rather  to  remind  him  of  a  promise — 
the  promise  he  had  made  him  of  a  new  gown.     This 
freedom  on  Luther's  part,  at  a  moment  when  he  might 
fear  he  had  offended  Frederic,  is  equally  honourable  to 
the  Prince  and  the  Reformer.     "But  if,"  said  he 
•*  Pfeffinger  has  the  charge  of  these  matters,  let  him 
give  it  me  in  reality,  and  not  in  protestations  of  friend 
ship.     For  as  to  weaving  fine  words  together,  it  i 
what  he  excels  in  ;  but  no  good  cloth  comes  of  that.' 
Luther  thought  that  by  his  faithful  counsels  he  ha< 

*  Ut  me  pceniteat  hujus  foeturae.     (Ibid.) 

f  Quae  istis  temporibus  pro  summa  blasphemia  et  abomina 
tione  habeo  et  execror.  (L.  Opp.  Lat.  Witt,  in  praef.) 

i  Accepi ....  simul  et  donum  insignia  viri  Alberti  Dure 
(L.Epp.i.p.95.) 


airly  earned  his  court  garment.*  However,  two  years 
fter  he  had  not  received  it,  and  his  solicitation  wae 
enewed.t  A  fact  which  seems  to  shew  that  Frederic 
as  not  so  easily  wrought  upon  by  Luther  as  has  been 
upposed. 

The  minds  of  men  had  gradually  recovered  from  the 
larm  that  had  at  first  been  communicated  to  them. 
jUther  himself  was  inclined  to  declare  that  his  words 
id  not  bear  the  construction  that  had  been  put  upon 
icm.  New  events  might  have  diverted  public  atten- 
on  ;  and  the  blow  aimed  against  the  Romish  doctrine 
might  have  spent  itself  in  the  air,  as  had  often  been 
IB  case  before.  But  the  partisans  of  Rome  prevented 
ie  affair  from  ending  thus.  They  fanned  the  flame 
nstead  of  extinguishing  it. 

Tctzel  and  the  Dominicans  haughtily  replied  to  the 
ttack  made  upon  them.  Eager  to  crush  the  audacious 
nonk  who  had  disturbed  their  traffic,  and  to  conciliate 
le  favour  of  the  Roman  Pontiff,  they  raised  a  shout 
f  indignation — affirmed,  that  to  attack  the  indulgences 
stablished  by  the  Pope,  was  to  attack  the  pope  him- 
elf ;  and  summoned  to  their  assistance,  all  the  monks 
nd  divines  of  their  school. J  It  is  evident,  indeed, 
bat  Tetzel  was  conscious  of  his  own  inability  to  cope 
with  such  an  adversary  as  Luther.  Quite  disconcert- 
d  by  the  Doctor's  attack,  and  irritated  in  the  highest 
.egree,  he  quitted  the  neighbourhood  of  Wittemberg, 
nd  went  to  Frankfort  on  the  Oder,  where  he  arrived 
n  November,  1517.  Conrad  Wimpina,  a  man  of  great 
loquence,  and  one  of  the  most  distinguished  divines 
if  the  time,  was  one  of  the  professors  in  the  university 
if  that  city.  Wimpina  regarded,  with  a  jealous  eye, 
ioth  the  Doctor  of  Wittemberg,  and  the  University  to 
which  he  belonged.  The  reputation  enjoyed  by  both 
gave  him  umbrage.  Tetzel  requested  him  to  answer 
he  theses  of  Luther,  and  Wimpini  accordingly  wrote 
wo  series  of  antitheses,  the  first  in  defence  of  the  doc- 
rine  of  indulgences,  and  the  second  of  the  Papal  au- 
hority. 

On  the  20th  January,  1518,  took  place  that  disputa- 
ion  which  had  been  so  long  preparing,  which  had  been 
innounced  so  ostentatiously,  and  on  which  Tetzel  built 
lis  hopes.  Loudly  had  he  beat  to  arms.  Monks  had 
>een  gathering  together  from  all  the  neighbouring  clois- 
ers.  More  than  three  hundred  were  now  assembled. 
Tetzel  read  to  them  his  theses.  In  these  he  repeated 
all  that  he  had  advanced  before,  even  the  declaration 
hat — "  Whosoever  shall  say  the  soul  does  not  take  its 
light  from  purgatory,  immediately  that  the  money  is 
dropped  into  the  chest,  is  in  error. "§ 

But,  above  all,  he  put  forward  propositions  by  which 
he  pope  seemed  actually  "  seated,"  as  the  apostle  ex- 
presses it,  "  in  the  temple  of  God,  showing  himself  to 
God."  This  shameless  dealer  in  counterfeit  wares, 
found  it  convenient  to  retreat,  with  all  his  disorders 
and  scandals,  tinder  the  cover  of  the  pope's  mantle. 

The  following  are  positions  which  he  declared  him- 
self ready  to  defend,  in  presence  of  the  numerous  as- 
sembly that  surrounded  him : 

"  3.  Christians  should  be  taught  that  the  pope,  in  the 
plenitude  of  his  power,  is  higher  than  the  xiniversal 
church,  and  superior  to  councils ;  and  that  entire  sub- 
mission is  due  to  his  decrees. 

"4.  Christians  should  be  taught  that  the  pope  alone 
has  the  right  to  decide  in  questions  of  Christian  doc- 
trine ;  that  he  alone,  and  no  other,  has  power  to  ex- 
plain, according  to  his  judgment,  the  sense  of  Holy 

*  Mein  Hof  'kleid  verdienen.     (Epp.  L.  i.  77,  73.) 

fEpp.  L.  i.  p.  293. 

t  Suum  senatum  convocat ;  monachos  aliquot  et  theologos 
sua  sophistica  utcumque  tinctos.  (Melanoth.  Vita  Luth.  106.) 

{$  Quisquis  ergo  dicet,  non  citius  posse  animam  volare  quam 
in  fundo  cistse  denarius  possit  tinnire,  errat- — (Positiones  fra« 
tris  Joh.  Tezelii,  Pos.  66.  L.  Opp.  i.  p.  94.) 


TETZEL'S  THESES— LUTHER'S  THESES  BURNED— OUTCRY  OF  THE  MONKS.      81 


Scripture,  and  to  approve  or  condemn  the  words  and 
works  of  others. 

"  5.  Christians  should  be  taught  that  the  judgment 
of  the  pope,  in  things  pertaining  to  Christian  doctrine, 
and  necessary  to  the  salvation  of  mankind,  can  in  no 
case  err. 

"  6.  Christians  should  be  taught  that  they  should 
place  more  dependance  in  matters  of  faith  on  the  pope's 
judgment,  expressed  in  his  decrees,  than  of  the  unani- 
mous opinion  of  all  the  learned,  resting  merely  upon 
their  interpretation  of  Scripture. 

"  8.  Christians  should  be  taught  that  they  who  con- 
spire against  the  honour  or  dignity  of  the  pope,  incur 
the  guilt  of  treason,  and  deserve  to  be  accursed. 

"  17.  Christians  should  be  taught  that  there  are 
many  things  which  the  church  regards  as  certain  arti- 
cles of  the  Catholic  faith,  although  they  are  not  found 
either  in  the  inspired  Scriptures,  or  in  the  early 
Fathers. 

"  44.  Christians  should  be  taught  to  regard  as  ob- 
stinate heretics,  all  who  by  speech,  action,  or  writing, 
declare,  that  they  would  not  retract  their  heretical  pro- 
positions, though  excommunication  after  excommuni- 
cation should  be  showered  upon  them  like  hail. 

"  48.  Christians  should  be  taught  that  they  who  pro- 
tect the  errors  of  heretics,  and  who,  by  their  authority, 
hinder  them  from  being  brought  before  the  judge,  who 
has  a  right  to  hear  them,  are  excommunicate  ;  and  that 
if,  within  the  space  of  one  year,  they  cease  not  from 
doing  so,  they  will  be  declared  infamous,  and  severely 
visited  with  punishment,  conformable  to  the  provisions 
of  the  law,  and  for  the  warning  of  others.* 

"  50.  Christians  should  be  taught  that  they  who  scrib- 
ble so  many  books  and  tracts, — who  preach,  or  publicly, 
and  with  evil  intention,  dispute  about  the  confession 
of  the  lips,  the  satisfaction  of  works,  the  rich  and  large 
indulgences  of  the  bishop  of  Rome,  and  his  power — 
they  who  side  with  those  who  preach  or  write  such 
things,  and  take  pleasure  in  their  writings,  and  circu- 
late them  among  the  people  and  in  society  ;  and,  final- 
ly, all  they  who,  in  secret,  speak  of  these  things  with 
contempt  or  irreverence,  must  expect  to  fall  under  the 
penalties  before  recited,  and  to  plunge  themselves,  and 
others  along  with  them,  into  eternal  condemnation  at 
the  great  day,  and  the  deepest  disgrace  in  this  present 
world.  For  every  beast  that  toucheth  the  mountain 
shall  be  stoned." 

We  perceive  that  Luther  was  not  the  only  object 
of  Tetzel's  attack.  In  his  48th  thesis  he  probably  had 
an  eye  to  the  elector  of  Saxony.  In  other  respects, 
these  propositions  savoured  strongly  of  the  Dominican. 
To  threaten  all  opposition  with  rigorous  chastisements, 
was  an  inquisitor's  argument,  which  there  was  no  way 
of  answering.  Three  hundred  monks,  whom  Tetzel 
had  assembled,  were  full  of  admiration  at  all  that  he 
had  said.  The  divines  of  the  university  were  too 
fearful  ef  being  classed  among  the  promoters  of  heresy, 
and  too  much  attached  to  the  principles  of  Wimina, 
openly  to  attack  the  astounding  theses  which  had  been 
read  in  their  presence. 

This  affair,  therefore,  about  which  there  had  been 
so  much  noise,  seemed  likely  to  end  like  a  mock-fight ; 
but  among  the  crowd  of  students  present  at  the  discus- 
sion, was  a  young  man,  about  twenty  years  of  age, 
named  John  Knipstrow.  He  had  read  the  theses  of 
Luther,  and  found  them  agreeable  to  the  Scriptures. 
Indignant  at  seeing  the  truth  publicly  trampled  under 
foot,  without  any  one  offering  himself  in  its  defence, 
*he  young  man  raised  his  voice,  to  the  great  surprise 
of  the  whole  assembly,  and  attacked  the  presumptuous 

*  Pro  infamibus  aunt  tenemli,  qui  etiam  per  juris  capitula 
terribiliter  multis  plectentor  pcenis  in  omnium  hominum  ter- 
rorem.  (Positiones  fratris  Job.  Tezelii.  66.  L.  Opp.  i.  p.  98.) 

L 


Tetzel.  The  poor  Dominican,  who  had  not  reckoned 
on  any  such  opposition,  was  thrown  into  dismay.  After 
some  attempts  at  an  answer,  he  abandoned  the  field 
of  battle,  and  made  room  for  Wimpina.  The  latter  de- 
fended his  cause  with  more  vigour ;  but  Kriipstrow 
pressed  him  so  hard  that,  to  put  an  end  to  the  untoward 
contest,  Wimpina,  in  his  capacity  of  president,  declared 
the  discussion  terminated,  and  proceeded,  at  once,  to 
the  promoting  of  Tetzel  to  the  rank  of  Doctor,  as  the 
recompense  of  this  glorious  dispute.  After  this,  Wim- 
pina, to  get  rid  of  his  young  antagonist,  caused  him 
to  be  sent  to  the  convent  of  Pyritz,  in  Pomerania, 
with  directions  that  he  should  be  strictly  watched. 
But  this  newly-risen  luminary,  removed  from  the 
banks  of  the  Oder,  was  destined,  at  a  later  period,  to 
diffuse  the  light  over  Pomerania.*  God,  when  he  sees 
fit,  employs  the  disciple  to  confound  the  master. 

Tetzel,  desirous  to  make  up  for  the  check  he  had 
met  with,  had  recourse  to  the  ultima  ratio  of  Rome 
and  its  inquisitors, — the  fire.  He  set  up  a  pulpit  and 
a  scaffold  in  one  of  the  suburbs  of  Frankfort.  He  went 
thither  in  solemn  procession,  arrayed  in  the  insignia  of 
an  inquisitor  of  the  faith.  He  inveighed  in  his  most 
furious  manner  from  the  pulpit.  He  hurled  his  thun- 
ders with  an  unsparing  hand,  and  loudly  exclaimed, 
that  "  the  heretic,  Luther,  ought  to  be  burned  alive." 
Then,  placing  the  doctor's  propositions  and  sermon  on 
the  scaffold,  he  set  fire  to  them.t  He  showed  greater 
dexterity  in  this  operation  than  he  had  displayed  in 
defending  his  theses.  Here  there  was  none  to  oppose 
him,  and  his  victory  was  complete.  The  arrogant  Do- 
minican re-entered  Frankfort  in  triumph.  When  par- 
ties accustomed  to  power  have  sustained  defeat,  they 
have  recourse  to  certain  shows  and  semblances,  which 
must  be  allowed  them,  as  a  consolation  for  their  dis- 
grace. 

The  second  theses  of  Luther  mark  an  important 
epoch  in  the  Reformation.  They  changed  the  ground 
of  the  dispute,  transferring  it  from  the  indulgence- 
market  to  the  halls  of  the  Vatican, — and  diverted  the 
attack  from  Tetzel,  to  direct  it  against  the  pope.  For 
the  contemptible  trafficker,  whom  Luther  had  assailed 
and  held  powerless  in  his  grasp,  they  substituted  the 
sacred  person  of  the  head  of  the  church.  Luther  was 
all  astonishment  at  this.  A  little  later,  probably,  he 
would,  of  his  own  accord,  have  taken  up  this  new  po- 
sition ;  but  his  enemies  spared  him  the  trouble.  Thence- 
forward, the  dispute  had  reference,  not  merely  to  a 
discredited  traffic,  but  to  Rome  itself  ;  and  the  blow 
that  a  bold  hand  had  aimed  against  Tetzel's  stall, 
smote,  and  shook  to  its  foundation,  the  throne  of  the 
pontifical  king. 

The  theses  of  Tetzel  served,  moreover,  only  as  a 
signal  to  the  troop  of  Romish  doctors.  A  shout  was 
raised  against  Luther  by  the  monks,  enraged  at  the 
appearance  of  an  adversary  more  formidable  even  than 
Erasmus  or  Reuchlin.  The  name  of  Luther  resounded 
from  all  the  Dominican  pulpits.  They  stirred  up  the 
passions  of  the  people  ;  they  called  the  intrepid  doc- 
tor a  madman,  a  seducer,  a  wretch,  possessed  by  the 
devil.  His  teaching  was  decried  as  the  most  horrible 
of  heresies.  "  Only  wait,"  said  they,  "  a  fortnight, 
or,  at  most,  a  month,  and  that  notorious  heretic  will 
be  burned  alive."  Had  it  depended  on  the  Domini- 
cans, indeed,  the  Saxon  doctor  would  soon  have  met  the 
fate  of  Huss  and  of  Jerome.  But  God  was  watching 
over  him.  His  life  was  destined  to  accomplish  what 
the  martyrdom  of  Huss  had  begun.  For  each  indivi-  ' 

Spieker,  Gesch.  Dr.  M.  Luthers.— Beckmanni  Notitii. 
univ.  Francofort,  8,  &c. 

t  Fulmina  in  Lutherum  torquet :  vociferatur  ubique  hunc 
laereticum  igni  perdendum  esse  ;  propositiones  etiam  Lutheri 
et  concionem  de  indulgentiis  publice  conjicit  in  flammas. 
(Melancth.  Vita  Luth.) 


82    LUTHER'S  COMPOSURE— TETZEL'S  THESES  BURNED— THE  HIGHER  CLERGY. 


dual  serves  the  purposes  of  God  ;  one  by  his  life,  ano- 
ther by  his  death.  Already  many  exclaimed  that  the 
whole  university  of  Wittemberg  was  tainted  with  he- 
resy, and  they  pronounced  it  infamous.*  "  Let  us 
drive  out  the  wretch,  and  all  his  partisans!"  said  they. 
And  in  many  cases  these  clamours  did,  in  fact,  ex- 
cite the  passions  of  the  people.  Those  who  shared  in 
the  opinions  of  the  reformer,  were  pointed  out  to  pub- 
lic observation,  and  wherever  the  monks  had  power  in 
their  hands,  the  friends  of  the  Gospel  felt  the  effects  of 
their  hatred.  Thus,  the  prophecy  of  our  Saviour  began 
to  be  fulfilled  :  "  They  shall  revile  you,  and  persecute 
you,  and  say  all  manner  of  evil  against  you  falsely,  for 
my  sake."  This  recompense  of  the  world,  is  in  no 
age  withheld  from  the  decided  disciples  of  the  Gospel. 

When  Luther  heard  of  the  theses  of  Tetzel,  and  of 
the  general  attack  of  which  they  had  given  the  signal, 
his  courage  rose.  He  saw  that  it  was  necessary  to 
face  such  adversaries  boldly  ;  his  intrepid  spirit  felt  no 
difficulty  in  resolving  to  do  so.  But,  at  the  same  time, 
their  weakness  discovered  to  him  his  own  strength, 
and  inspired  him  with  the  consciousness  of  what,  in 
reality,  he  was. 

He  did  not,  however,  give  way  to  those  emotions 
of  pride  which  are  so  congenial  to  man's  heart.  "  I 
have  more  difficulty,"  wrote  he  to  Spalatin,  at  this 
time,  "  to  refrain  from  despising  my  adversaries,  and 
so  sinning  against  Christ,  than  I  should  have  in  van- 
quishing them.  They  are  so  ignorant,  both  of  human 
and  divine  things,  that  it  is  humbling  to  have  to  dis- 
pute with  them ;  and  yet,  it  is  this  very  ignorance 
which  gives  them  their  inconceivable  boldness,  and 
their  brazen  front,  "f 

But  what,  above  all,  strengthened  his  heart,  in  the 
midst  of  this  general  hostility,  was  the  deep  conviction 
that  his  cause  was  the  cause  of  truth.  "  Do  not  won- 
der," he  wrote  to  Spalatin,  in  the  beginning  of  1518, 
"  that  they  revile  me  so  unsparingly.  I  hear  their  re- 
vilings  with  joy.  If  they  did  not  curse  me,  we  could  not 
be  so  firmly  assured  that  the  cause  I  have  undertaken 
is  that  of  God  himself.t  Christ  was  set  for  a  sign  that 
should  be  spoken  against."  "  I  know,"  said  he,  ano- 
ther time,  "  that  from  the  beginning,  the  Word  of  God 
has  been  such,  as  that  whosoever  would  carry  it  into 
the  world,  must,  like  the  apostles,  leave  everything, 
and  be  delivered  unto  death.  If  it  were  not  so,  it 
would  not  be  the  word  of  Christ."^  This  peace,  in 
the  midst  of  agitation,  is  a  thing  unknown  to  the  he- 
roes of  the  world.  We  see  men  at  the  head  of  a  govern- 
ment— of  a  political  party — sink  under  their  labours  and 
trials.  The  Christian  generally  gathers  new  strength 
in  conflict.  It  is  because  he  is  acquainted  with  a 
hidden  source  of  refreshment  and  courage,  unknown 
to  him  whose  eyes  are  closed  against  the  Gospel. 

One  thing,  however,  at  times  disturbed  Luther :  it 
was  the  thought  of  the  dissentions  his  courageous  re- 
sistance might  give  rise  to.  He  knew  that  a  word 
might  be  enough  to  set  the  world  in  a  flame.  He  at 
times  foresaw  prince  opposing  prince ;  nation,  perhaps, 
set  against  nation  ;  his  love  for  his  country  took  alarm  ; 
his  Christian  charity  recoiled  from  the  prospect.  He 
would  gladly  have  secured  peace  ;  yet  it  behoved  him 
to  speak.  It  was  the  Lord's  will.  "  I  tremble,"  said 
he,  "  I  shudder  at  the  thought,  that  I  may  be  an  occa- 
sion of  discord  to  such  mighty  princes."ll 

*  Eo  forunt  usque  ut  universitatem  Wittembergensem  prop- 
ter  me  infamera  conantur  facere  et  haereticam.  (L .  Epp.  i.  p.  92.) 

f  Epp.  Luth.  i.  p.  62. 

j  Nisi  Maledicerer  non  crederem  ex  Deo  esse  quae  tracto. 
(L.  Epp.  i.  p.  85.) 

§  "  Morte  emptum  est  (verbum  Dei,")  continues  he,  in  deep- 
ly energetic  language,  "  mortibus  vulgatum,  mortibus  serva- 
tum,  mortibus  quoque  servandum  aut  referendum  est." 

||  Inter  tantos  principes  dissidii  origo  esse  valde  horreo  et  ti- 
meo.  (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  93.) 


He  still  kept  silence  in  regard  to  Tetzel's  proposi- 
tions concerning  the  pope  ;  had  he  been  carried  away 
by  passion,  doubtless  he  would  have  fallen  with  impe- 
tuosity upon  that  astounding  doctrine,  under  which 
his  adversary  took  shelter  and  concealment  for  him- 
self. But  he  did  nothing  of  the  kind.  There  is,  in  his 
delay,  reserve  and  silence,  a  something  grave  and  so- 
lemn, which  sufficiently  reveals  the  spirit  that  animated 
him.  He  paused,  yet  not  from  weakness  ;  for  the  blow 
was  but  the  heavier,  when  at  length  it  fell. 

Tetzel,  after  his  auto-da-fe  at  Frankfort  on  the  Oder, 
had  hastened  to  send  his  theses  into  Saxony.  They 
will  serve  thought  he,  as  an  antidote  to  those  of  Luther. 
A  man  was  despatched  by  the  inquisitor  from  Alle  to 
distribute  his  propositions  at  Wiitemberg.  The  stu- 
dents of  that  university,  indignant  that  Tetzel  should 
have  burned  the  theses  of  their  master,  no  sooner  heard 
of  the  arrival  of  his  messenger  than  they  surrounded 
him  in  troops  inquiring  in  threatening  tones  how  he 
had  dared  to  bring  such  things  thither.  Some  of  them 
purchased  a  portion  of  the  copies  he  had  brought  with 
him ;  others  seized  on  the  remainder  ;  thus  getting 
possession  of  his  whole  stock,  which  amounted  to 
eight  hundred  copies ;  then,  unknown*  to  the  Elector, 
the  senate,  the  rector,  Luther,  and  all  the  professors, 
the  students  of  Wittemberg  posted  bills  on  the  gates 
of  the  university,  bearing  these  words :  "  Whosoever 
desires  to  be  present  at  the  burning  and  obsequies  of 
the  theses  of  Tetzel,  let  him  repair  at  two  o'clock  to 
the  market  place." 

They  assembled  in  crowds  at  the  hour  appointed  ; 
and,  amid  the  acclamations  of  the  multitude,  committed 
the  propositions  of  the  Dominican  to  the  flames.  One 
copy  was  saved  from  the  fire.  Luther  afterward  sent 
it  to  his  friend  Lange,  of  Erfurth.  The  young  stu- 
dents acted  on  the  precept  of  them  of  old  time,  "  an 
eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth,"  and  not  on  that 
of  Christ.  But  when  doctors  and  professors  had  set 
such  an  example  at  Frankfort,  can  we  wonder  that 
young  students  should  follow  it  at  Wittemberg  1  The 
report  of  this  academic  execution  spreads  through 
Germany,  and  made  much  noise. f  Luther  was  deep- 
ly grieved  at  it. 

"  I  am  surprised,"  wrote  he,  to  his  old  master,  Jo- 
docus,  at  Erfurth,  "that  you  could  think  I  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  the  burning  of  Tetzel's  theses.  Do 
you  think  I  have  utterly  lost  my  senses  1  But  what 
can  I  do  ?  When  the  tale  is  told  of  me,  anything, 
and  from  every  quarter,  gains  implicit  belief.  J  Can 
I  tie  up  men's  tongues  ]  No  matter  !  let  them  tell, 
and  hear,  and  see,  and  report  whatever  they  please, 
I  will  go  on  as  long  as  the  Lord  shall  give  me  strength  ; 
and,  with  God's  help,  I  will  fear  nothing."  "  What 
will  come  of  it,"  said  he  to  Lange,  "  I  know  not ;  this 
only  I  know,  that  the  peril  in  which  I  stand  is  greatly 
enhanced  by  the  act.  "§  This  occurrence  shows  how 
the  hearts  of  the  young  were  already  kindled  in  the 
cause  of  which  Luther  was  the  champion.  It  was  a 
sign  of  high  import ;  for  a  movement  once  begun 
among  the  young,  is  necessarily  soon  communicated  to 
the  entire  generation. 

The  theses  of  Tetzel  and  of  Wimpina,  though 
slightly  esteemed,  produced  a  certain  effect.  They 
opened  out  the  questions  in  dispute  ;  they  enlarged 
the  rent  in  the  mantle  of  the  church  ;  they  brought  new 
questions  of  thrilling  interest  into  the  field  of  contro- 
versy. Consequently,  the  heads  of  the  church  began 
to  take  a  nearer  view  of  the  debate,  and  to  declare 
themselves  strongly  against  the  Reformer.  "  I  know 

*  Haec  inscie  pvincipe,  senatu,  rectore,  denique  omnibus 
nobis.  (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  99.) 

t  Fit  ex  ea  re  ingens  undique  fabula.    (L.  Epp.  i  p.  99  ) 
i  Omnes  omnibus  omnia  credunt  de  me.     (Ibid.) 
\  L.  Epp.  i.  p.  98. 


PRIERIAS— THE  ROMISH  SYSTEM. 


83 


not,  truly,  on  whose  protection  Luther  can  rely,"  said 
the  Bishop  of  Brandenburg,  "  that  he  ventures  in  this 
way  to  attack  the  authority  of  the  bishops."  Perceiv- 
ing that  this  new  conjecture  called  for  new  precautions, 
the  Bishop  came  himself  to  Wittemberg.  But  he  found 
Luther  animated  by  that  inward  joy  which  springs  from 
a  good  conscience,  and  determined  to  give  battle.  The 
Bishop  felt  that  the  monk  was  obeying  a  power  higher 
than  his  own,  and  returned  in  an  angry  mood  to  Bran- 
denburg. One  day,  (before  the  close  of  the  winter  of 
1518,)  while  seated  at  his  fireside,  he  said,  turning  to 
those  who  surrounded  him,  "  I  will  not  lay  my  head 
down  in  peace  until  I  have  cast  Martin  into  the  fire 
like  this  faggot ;"  and,  as  he  spoke,  he  cast  the  faggot 
on  the  blazing  hearth.  The  revolution  of  the  sixteenth 
century  was  to  be  no  more  indebted  for  support  to  the 
heads  of  the  Church  than  that  of  the  first  century  had 
been  to  the  sanhedrim  and  the  synagogue.  The  dig- 
nified priesthood  was  again,  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
opposed  to  Luther,  the  Reformation,  and  its  ministers, 
as  it  had  formerly  been  to  Jesus  Christ,  the  Gospel, 
and  his  Apostles,  and  as  it  too  often  is,  in  all  periods, 
to  the  truth.  "  The  Bishops,"  says  Luther,  speaking 
of  the  visit  of  the  prelate  of  Brandenburg,  "  begin  to  see 
that  they  should  have  done  what  I  am  doing,  and  they 
are  ashamed.  They  call  me  arrogant  and  audacious  ; 
and  I  do  not  deny  that  I  am  so.  But  they  are  not  the 
people  to  know  either  what  God  is,  or  what  we  are."* 

A  more  formidable  resistance  than  that  which  Tetzel 
had  offered  had  now  sprung  up  against  Luther.  Rome 
had  answered  him.  A  reply  had  gone  forth  from  the 
walls  of  the  sacred  palace.  It  was  not  Leo  X.,  how- 
ever, who  condescended  to  meddle  with  theology. 
"  A  squabble  among  the  monks  !"  said  he  :  "  the  best 
way  is  to  take  no  notice  of  it."  And,  on  another 
occasion,  he  observed  :  "  It  is  a  drunken  Germanf  that 
has  written  these  theses ;  when  he  is  sober,  he  will 
talk  very  differently."  A  Dominican  of  Rome,  Syl- 
vester Prierias,  master  of  the  pontifical  palace,  filled 
the  office  of  censor.  In  that  capacity  he  was  the  first 
to  take  cognizance  of  the  theses  published  by  the  Saxon 
monk. 

A  Roman  censor,  and  the  theses  of  Luther  !  how 
remarkable  the  encounter  !  Freedom  of  speech,  free- 
dom of  enquiry,  and  freedom  of  religious  belief,  had 
now  to  maintain  a  conflict,  within  the  very  gates  of 
Rome,  against  the  power  that  claims  to  hold  in  its 
hands  the  monopoly  of  spiritual  knowledge,  and  at  its 
own  will  to  suppress  the  voice  of  Christian  truth  or  al- 
low its  utterance.  The  struggle  between  that  Christian 
liberty  which  stamps  men  the  children  of  God,  and 
the  pontifical  despotism  which  makes  them  the  slaves 
of  Rome,  is  symbolized,  as  it  were  in  the  very  begin- 
ning of  the  Reformation,  by  the  encounter  of  Luther 
and  Prierias. 

This  Roman  censor,  this  prior-general  of  the  Domi- 
nicans, this  dignitary,  whose  office  empowered  him  to 
determine  what  doctrines  Christian  men  should  profess, 
and  on  what  points  they  should  be  silent,  was  eager  to 
reply.  He  published  a  writing  which  he  dedicated  to 
Leo  X.,  and  in  which  he  spoke  contemptuously  of  the 
German  monk,  and  declared,  with  an  assurance  alto- 
gether Roman,  that  he  should  like  to  know  whether 
that  Martin  had  indeed  an  iron  snout,  and  a  head  of 
brass,  which  it  was  impossible  to  shatter.^  Then, 
under  the  form  of  a  dialogue,  he  proceeded  to  attack 
Luther's  theses,  employing  by  turns  ridicule,  reviling, 
and  threats. 

The  contest,  between  the  Augustine  of  Wittemberg, 

*  Quid  vel  Deus  vel  ipsi  sumus.     (L.  Epp.  i.  224.) 

f  Ein  roller  trunkener  Deutschr.      (L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii. 

1337.) 
]  An  ferreum  nastim  aut  caput  seneum  gerat  iste  Lutherus, 

ut  effringi  non  possit.     (Sylv,  Prieratis  Dialogus.) 


and  the  Dominican  of  Rome,  was  waged  on  the  ques- 
tion which  is  in  itself  the  principle  of  the  Reformatian  ; 
namely,  what  is  the  sole  infallible  authority  for  Chris- 
tians 1  Take  the  system  of  the  Church,  as  set  forth 
by  its  most  independent  organs.* 

The  letter  of  the  written  word  is  dead,  without  that 
spirit  of  interpretation,  which  alone  reveals  its  hidden 
meaning.  But  this  spirit  is  not  given  to  every  Chris- 
tian, but  to  the  Church,  that  is,  to  the  priests.  It  is 
great  presumption  to  affirm  that  He,  who  promised  to 
the  Church  to  be  with  her  always,  even  to  the  end  of, 
the  world,  could  have  abandoned  her  to  the  power  of 
error.  It  will  be  said,  perhaps,  that  the  doctrine  and 
constitution  of  the  Church  are  not  now  such  as  we 
find  them  in  the  Holy  Scriptures.  Undoubtedly  ;  but 
this  change  is  only  apparent,  it  extends  only  to  the 
form,  and  not  to  the  substance.  Nay,  more — this 
change  is  a  progression.  The  life-giving  power  of  the 
Divine  Spirit  has  imparted  reality  to  what,  in  Scripture, 
existed  only  in  idea.  To  the  outline  of  the  word  it 
has  given  a  body,  put  a  finishing  touch  to  its  rough 
draught,  and  completed  the  work  of  which  the  Bible  had 
merely  furnished  the  rudiments.  Consequently,  we 
must  understand  the  meaning  of  Holy  Scripture,  as  it 
has  been  determined  by  the  Church,  under  the  guidance 
of  the  Holy  Spirit.  So  far  the  Catholic  doctors  were 
agreed  :  at  this  point  they  were  divided — General 
Councils,  said  some  (and  Gerson  was  of  their  number,) 
are  the  representatives  of  the  Church.  Others  said, 
it  is  the  Pope  who  is  the  depositary  of  the  spirit  of  in- 
terpretation ;  and  no  one  has  the  right  to  construe 
Scripture  otherwise  than  in  accordance  with  the  decree 
of  the  Roman  Pontiff.  This  was  the  tenet  espoused 
by  Prierias. 

Such  was  the  doctrine  which  the  master  of  the  pa- 
lace opposed  to  the  infancy  of  the  Reformation.  He 
advanced  assertions,  with  respect  to  the  power  of  the 
Church  and  of  the  Pope  to  which  the  most  shameless 
flatterers  of  the  court  of  Rome  would  have  blushed  to 
subscribe.  The  following  is  one  of  the  principles  laid 
down  at  the  commencement  of  his  writing  :  "  Whoso- 
ever does  not  rely  on  the  teaching  of  the  Roman  Church, 
and  of  the  Roman  Pontiff,  as  the  infallible  rule  of  faith, 
and  as  that  from  which  Holy  Scripture  itself  derives 
its  obligation  and  authority,  is  an  heretic. "t 

Then  follows  a  dialogue,  in  which  the  speakers  are 
Luther  and  Sylvester,  and  in  which  the  latter  labours 
to  refute  the  Doctor's  propositions.  The  sentiments 
of  the  Saxon  monk  were  altogether  new  and  strange 
to  a  Roman  censor;  hence  Prierias  shewed  that  he 
understood  neither  the  feelings  of  his  heart  nor  the 
principles  that  regulated  his  conduct.  He  estimated 
the  teacher  of  the  truth  by  the  petty  standard  of  the 
retainers  of  the  Papacy.  "  My  good  Luther,"  says  he, 
"  were  it  thy  fortune  to  receive  from  our  Lord  the  Pope 
a  good  bishopric  and  a  plenary  indulgence  for  the  re- 
building of  thy  church,  how  would  thy  tone  be  altered, 
and  how  loudly  wouldst  thou  extol  the  indulgence 
which  it  now  delights  thee  to  disparage !"  With  all 
his  pretensions  to  refinement,  this  Italian  has  frequent 
recourse  to  the  grossest  scurrility  of  language.  "  If  it 
is  the  nature  of  dogs  to  bite,"  says  he  to  Luther,  "I 
should  fear  thou  hadst  a  dog  for  thy  father,  "t  Toward 
the  close  of  his  work,  the  Dominican  even  marvels  at 
his  own  condescension,  in  parleying  thus  with  a  muti- 
nous monk  ;  and,  in  taking  leave  of  his  adversary,  he 
shows  him  the  cruel  teeth  of  an  inquisitor.  "The 
Roman  Church,"  says  he,  "  the  supremacy  of  whose 

*  See  "  Job.  Gersonis  Propositiones  de  sensu  litterali  S. 
Scripture."  (Opp.  torn  i.) 

t  A  qua  etiam  Sacra  Scriptura,  robur  trahit  et  auctoritatexn, 
haereticus  est.  (Fundamentum  tertium.) 

\  Si  mordere  canum  est  proprium,  vereor  ne  tibi  pater  canis 
fuent.  (Sylv.  Prier.  Diel.) 


84        THE  DISCIPLE  OF  THE  BIBLE— THE  DOCTRINE  OF  THE  REFORMATION 


power,  spiritual  and  temporal,  is  vested  in  the  Pope, 
can  restrain,  by  the  secular  arm,  those  who,  having 
first  received  the  faith,  afterward  depart  from  it.  The 
Church  is  under  no  obligation  to  employ  argument  to 
combat  and  overcome  rebels."*  Such  words,  proceed- 
ing from  the  pen  of  a  dignitary  of  the  Roman  court, 
were  deeply  significant ;  yet  they  did  not  intimidate 
Luther ;  he  believed,  or  affected  to  believe,  that  this 
dialogue  was  not  written  by  Prierias,  but  by  Ulric  de 
Hiitten,  or  some  other  contributor  to  the  Letters  Ob- 
scurorum  Virorum.  "  One  of  that  fraternity,"  said 
he,  "  from  the  mere  love  of  satire,  or  to  set  Luther 
against  Prierais,  has  collected  together  this  mass  of 
absurdity."!  However,  after  having  for  some  time 
kept  silence,  his  doubts,  if  he  had  any,  were  removed  ; 
he  set  to  work,  and  in  two  days  prepared  his  answer.^ 

The  Bible  had  decided  Luther's  destiny  :  it  had 
moulded  the  Reformer,  and  commenced  the  Reforma- 
tion. Luther's  belief  depended  not  on  the  testimony 
of  the  Church.  His  faith  had  come  from  the  Bible  it- 
self :  from  within,  and  not  from  without.  He  was  so 
deeply  convinced  that  the  evangelic  doctrine  was  im- 
moveably  built  upon  the  word  of  God,  that  all  external 
doctrine  was  to  him  superfluous.  This  experimental 
knowledge  possessed  by  Luther,  opened  to  the  Church 
a  new  futurity.  The  living  spring,  which  had  gushed 
forth  for  the  refreshment  of  the  monk  of  Wittemberg, 
was  to  become  a  mighty  river,  that  should  slake  the 
thirst  of  nations. 

"  To  understand  Scripture,  it  is  necessary  that  the 
Spirit  of  God  should  open  the  understanding,"  said  the 
Church,  and  thus  far  it  said  truly.  But  its  error  lay 
in  considering  the  Holy  Spirit  as  the  exclusive  privi- 
lege of  a  particular  caste,  and  supposing  that  he  could 
be  pent  up  in  assemblies  and  colleges,  in  a  city,  or  a 
conclave.  "  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,"  said 
the  Son  of  God,  when  speaking  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 
and  elsewhere :  "  They  shall  be  all  taught  of  God." 
The  corruption  of  the  Church,  the  ambition  of  the 
Pontiffs,  the  passions  of  Councils,  the  animosities  of 
the  clergy,  the  pomp  of  the  prelates,  had  banished  far 
from  those  priestly  abodes  that  Holy  Spirit — that  Spirit 
of  humility  and  of  peace.  The  Spirit  of  God  had  de- 
parted from  the  assemblies  of  the  proud,  and  the  pala- 
ces of  princes  of  the  Church,  and  had  tabernacled  with 
simple  Christians  and  humble  priests.  He  had  turned 
from  a  tyrannous  hierarchy,  whose  bloody  heel  again 
and  again  had  trampled  on  the  poor — from  a  proud  and 
ignorant  clergy,  whose  leaders  were  better  skilled  in 
the  use  of  the  sword  than  of  the  Bible — and  was  pre- 
sent with  despised  sectaries,  or  with  men  of  under- 
standing and  learning.  The  holy  cloud,  that  had  with- 
drawn itself  from  the  stately  temple  and  the  proud 
cathedral,  had  descended  on  the  secluded  dwellings  of 
the  humble,  or  the  tranquil  chamber  of  the  conscien- 
tious enquirer.  The  Church,  debased  by  her  love  of 
power  and  lucre,  dishonoured  before  the  people,  by 
her  venal  perversion  of  the  doctrine  of  life,  the  Church, 
busy  in  selling  salvation,  that  she  might  replenish  a 
treasury  exhausted  by  her  pride  and  debaucheries — 
had  forfeited  all  respect ;  and  men  of  sense  no  longer 
attached  any  value  to  her  testimony.  Despising  an 
authority  so  degraded,  they  gladly  turned  toward  the 
divine  word,  and  its  infallible  authority,  as  the  only  re- 
fuge open  to  them  in  that  universal  confusion. 

The  age  therefore  was  ripe.  The  bold  movement 
by  which  Luther  shifted  the  support  of  the  highest 
hopes  of  man's  heart — loosening  them  with  a  strong 

*  Seculari  brachio  potest  eos  compescere,  nee  tenetur  ration- 
ibus  certare  ad  vincendos  protervientes.  (Ibid.) 

f  Convenit  inter  nos  esse  personatum  aliquem  Sylvestrem 
ex  obscuris  viris,  qui  tantas  ineptias  in  hominem  luserit  ad 
provocandum  me  adversus  eum.  (Epp.  i.  p.  87,  14  Jan.) 

t  T.  i.  Witt  Lat.  p.  170. 


hand  from  the  walls  of  the  Vatican,  to  fix  them  on  the 
rock  of  the  word  of  God,  was  hailed  with  enthusiasm. 
This  was  the  object  the  Reformer  had  in  view  in  his 
answer  to  Prierias. 

Passing  by  the  principles  the  Dominican  had  laid 
down  at  the  opening  of  his  work — "  I,"  said  he  "  fol- 
lowing your  example,  will  also  lay  down  certain  prin- 
ciples." 

The  first  is  this  passage  of  St.  Paul :  "  If  any  one 
preach  unto  you  another  Gospel  than  that  is  preached, 
though  he  should  be  an  angel  from  heaven,  let  him  be 
accursed." 

The  second  is  the  following,  from  St.  Augustine 
writing  to  St.  Jerome  :  "  I  have  learned  to  render  to 
the  inspired  Scriptures  alone  the  homage  of  a  firm  be- 
lief, that  they  have  never  erred  ;  as  to  others,  I  do  not 
believe  in  the  things  they  teach,  simply  because  it  is 
they  who  teach  them." 

Here  Luther,  with  a  steady  hand,  establishes  the 
fundamental  principles  of  the  Reformation.  The  word 
of  God — the  whole  word  of  God — and  nothing  but  the 
word  of  God.  "  If  you  rightly  understand  these  prin- 
ciples," continues  he,  "  you  will  also  understand  that 
your  whole  Dialogue  is  overturned  by  them  ;  for  you 
have  done  nothing  but  bring  forward  phrases  and  opin- 
ions of  St.  Thomas."  Then,  openly  impugning  the 
axioms  of  his  adversary,  he  freely  confesses  that  he 
thinks  both  Popes  and  Councils  may  err.  He  com- 
plains of  the  flatteries  of  the  Roman  courtiers,  who 
ascribe  this  and  that  power  to  the  pope.  He  declares 
that  the  Church  exists  virtually  in  Christ  alone,  and 
representatively  in  a  General  Council.*  And  then, 
alluding  to  the  insinuation  of  Prierias  :  "  Undoubted- 
ly you  judge  me  by  yourself,"  said  he  ;  "  but  if  I  as- 
pired to  be  made  a  bishop,  I  certainly  should  not  use 
the  language  which  you  find  so  offensive.  Do  you 
imagine  I  am  ignorant  of  the  manner  in  which  bishop- 
rics and  priest's  orders  are  obtained  at  Rome  1  Do 
not  the  very  children  sing,  in  every  street  of  that  city, 
these  well  known  words  : 

"  Of  all  foul  spots  the  wide  world  round, 
The  foulest  here,  in  Rome,  is  found  ?"f 

(Such  songs  had  been  current  in  Rome  before  the  elec- 
tion of  one  of  the  last  Popes.)  Yet  Luther  speaks  of 
Leo  with  respect.  "  I  know,"  says  he,  •'  that  he  may 
be  compared  to  Daniel  in  Babylon ;  his  innocence  has 
often  endangered  his  life."  He  concludes  by  reply ipg 
very  briefly  to  the  threatening  language  used  by  Prie- 
rias. "  Lastly,  you  say  that  the  Pope  is  both  pontiff 
and  emperor,  and  that  he  can  employ  the  secular  arm 
to  compel  obedience.  Do  you  thirst  for  blood  then  1 
I  protest  to  you  that  these  rhodomontades  and  mena- 
ces of  yours  give  me  not  the  slightest  alarm.  For 
what  if  I  were  to  lose  my  life  1  Christ  still  lives ; 
Christ  my  Lord,  and  the  Lord  of  all,  blessed  for  ever. 
Amen." 

Thus  fearlessly  did  Luther,  in  opposition  to  the  in- 
fidel altar  of  the  Papacy,  set  up  the  Altar  of  the  holy 
and  infallible  word  of  God  ;  an  altar,  before  which  he 
would  have  every  knee  to  bow,  and  on  which  he  de- 
clares himself  ready  to  offer  up  his  life. 

A  new  adversary  now  presented  himself  in  the  lists 
— a  Dominican,  like  his  predecessors.  James  Hoch- 
straten,  the  inquisitor  of  Cologne,  of  whose  outcries 
against  Reuchlin,  and  the  friends  of  literature,  we  have 
already  spoken,  could  not  restrain  his  rage  when  he 
heard  of  the  first  efforts  of  the  hero  of  the  Reformation. 
It  was  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  monkish  ignorance 
and  fanaticism  should  assail  the  man  who  was  to  give 

*  Ego  ecclesiam  virtualiter  non  scio  nisi  in  Christo,  repre- 
sentative non  nisi  in  concilio.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  p.  174.) 

t  Quando  hanc  pueri  in  omnibus  plateis  urbis  cantant ; 
Denique  nunc  facta  est  foedissima  Roma.  (Ibid,  p.  183. 


HOCHSTRATEN— DOCTOR  ECK— THE  «  OBELISKS." 


85 


them  the  death-blow.  Monachism  had  arisen  when 
the  primitive  truth  had  begun  to  disappear.  From  that 
period  monachism  and  error  had  grown  up  side  by  side. 
The  man  who  was  to  accelerate  their  fall  had  now  ap- 
peared. But  his  sturdy  antagonists  would  not  abandon 
the  field.  The  struggle  lasted  to  the  end  of  Luther's 
life,  but  we  regard  it  as  epitomized  in  this  dispute  of 
Hochstraten  and  Luther ;  the  free  and  courageous 
Christian,  and  the  irascible  slave  of  monkish  supersti- 
tions !  Hochstraten  lost  his  temper,  he  gave  vent  to 
his  indignation,  and  loudly  demanded  the  death  of  the 
heretic.  He  would  have  had  recourse  to  the  stake  to 
secure  the  triumph  of  Rome.  "  It  is  high  treason 
against  the  Church,"  exclaimed  he,  "  to  suffer  so  hor- 
rid a  heretic  to  live  an  hour  longer.  Away  with  him 
at  once  to  the  scaffold  !"  This  sanguinary  counsel 
was  but  too  well  followed  in  many  countries,  and  the 
voices  of  many  martyrs,  as  in  the  earlier  ages  of  the 
Church,  gave  testimony  to  the  truth  from  the  midst  of 
the  flames.  But  in  vain  were  fire  and  sword  invoked 
against  Luther.  The  angel  of  the  Lord  encamped 
around  him,  and  defended  him. 

Luther  answered  Hochstraten  in  a  few  words  but 
with  much  vigour :  "  Out  upon  thee,"  said  he,  at  the 
close  of  his  reply,  "  thou  senseless  murderer,  thirsting 
for  the  blood  of  thy  brethren !  I  sincerely  desire  that 
thou  shouldst  not  call  me  Christian  and  faithful ;  but 
that  thou  shouldst  continue  on  the  contrary  to  decry 
me  as  an  heretic.  Understand  me,  thou  blood-thirsty 
man  !  enemy  to  the  truth  !  and  if  thy  rage  prompt  thee 
to  attempt  my  life,  take  care  to  act  circumspectly,  and 
to  choose  thy  time  well  ;  God  knows  what  is  my  pur- 
pose, if  my  life  should  be  spared.  .  .  .  My  hope  and 
expectation,  God  willing,  shall  not  be  disappointed."* 
Hochstraten  made  no  reply. 

An  attack,  more  trying  to  his  feelings,  awaited  the 
Reformer.  Doctor  Eck,  the  celebrated  professor  of 
Ingolstadt,  the  deliverer  of  Urban  Regius,  the  friend 
of  Luther,  had  received  the  famous  theses.  Eck  was 
not  a  man  to  defend  the  abuses  of  the  indulgences  ; 
but  he  was  a  doctor  of  the  School,  not  of  the  Bible — 
well  versed  in  the  scholastic  divinity,  but  not  in  the 
word  of  God.  If  Prierias  had  represented  Rome,  and 
Hochstraten  the  monks,  the  new  combatant  represent- 
ed the  schools.  The  scholastic  philosophy,  which  for 
almost  five  centuries  held  sway  over  Christendom,  far 
from  yielding  to  the  earliest  efforts  of  the  Reformer, 
arose  in  its  pride  to  crush  the  man  who  dared  to  treat 
it  with  contempt.  Eck  and  Luther,  Luther  and  the 
Schools,  were  often  afterward  arrayed  one  against  the 
other.  But  it  was  now  the  contest  opened. 

It  could  hardly  happen  but  that  Eck  should  con- 
sider many  of  Luther's  assertions  erroneous.  We  have 
no  reason  to  doubt  the  sincerity  of  his  convictions. 
He  was  enthusiastic  in  defence  of  the  scholastic  opi- 
nions, whilst  Luther  was  an  equally  enthusiastic  ad- 
herent of  the  word  of  God.  We  may  even  imagine 
that  Eck  felt  some  concern  at  the  necessity  of  oppos- 
ing his  old  friend.  And  yet  it  appears,  from  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  assailed  him,  that  passion  and  jealousy 
had  some  share  in  his  motives. 

It  was  under  the  title  of  Obelisks,  that  he  wrote  his 
remarks  on  the  theses  of  Luther.  Desiring,  at  first,  to 
keep  up  appearances,  he  did  not  publish  his  work,  but 
contented  himself  with  communicating  it,  in  confi- 
dence, to  his  ordinary,  the  Bishop  of  Eichstadt.  But 
the  obelisks  were  soon  widely  dispersed,  either  through 
the  indiscretion  of  the  bishop,  or  by  the  doctor's  own 
act.  One  copy  fell  into  the  hands  of  Link,  a  preacher 
at  Nuremburg,  and  a  friend  of  Luther  ;  by  him  it 
was  communicated  to  Luther  himself.  Eck  was  a 
very  different  adversary  from  either  Tetzel,  Prierias, 
»  L.  Opp.  Leips.  xvii.  p.  140. 


or  Hochstraten.  The  more  his  work  excelled  theirs, 
n  learning  and  subtlety,  the  more  injurious  was  likely 
;o  be  its  effect.  He  spoke  of  "  his  feeble  adversary," 
in  a  tone  of  compassion,  well  knowing  that  pity  is  more 
disparaging  than  anger.  He  insinuated  that  Luther's 
sropositions  were  spreading  the  Bohemian  poison  ; 
that  they  savoured  of  Bohemia ;  and,  by  these  malig- 
nant references,  drew  upon  Luther  the  odium  attach- 
ing, in  Germany,  to  the  name  of  Huss,  and  the  Bo- 
lemian  schismatics. 

The  malice  that  was  discernible  in  this  writing, 
roused  Luther's  indignation.  But  he  was  still  more 
grieved  at  the  thought  that  the  blow  came  from  an  old 
friend.  "  It  was  then,"  thought  he,  "  at  the  cost  of 
the  affection  of  his  friends,  that  truth  must  be  defend- 
ed." Luther  unbosomed  the  sadness  of  his  heart,  in 
a  letter  to  Egranus,  pastor  at  Zwickau.  "  In  these 
Obelisks,"  said  he,  "  I  am  called  '  a  pestilent  man,'  '  a 
Bohemian,'  'an  heretic,'  and  reproached  as  'seditious/ 
insolent,'  and  '  rash.'  I  overlook  minor  reproaches, 
such  as  '  dull,'  '  stupid,'  '  ignorant,'  '  despiser  of  the 
sovereign  pontiff,'  &c.  Throughout,  there  are  nothing 
but  insults  ;  and  yet  he  who  has  written  them  is  a 
distinguished  man,  in  whom  genius  and  learning  are 
blended  ;  moreover,  one  who  was  united  to  me  by  a 
great  intimacy,  recently  contracted.*  His  name  is 
John  Eck,  doctor  of  divinity,  chancellor  of  Ingoldstadt, 
&c.,  a  man  well  known  and  highly  esteemed  for  his 
writings.  If  I  did  not  know  the  design  of  Satan,  I 
should  wonder  at  the  rage  which  has  prompted  Eck 
to  violate  a  friendship  so  delightful,  and  so  recent,  be- 
sides,f  and  that  without  giving  me  one  word  of  no- 
tice." 

But  if  Luther's  heart  was  wounded,  his  courage 
was  not  abated.  On  the  contrary,  he  caught  fresh 
fire  for  the  dispute.  "  Rejoice,  brother,"  he  said  to 
Egranus,  who  had  likewise  been  attacked  by  a  violent 
adversary,  "  rejoice,  and  let  not  these  paper  missile* 
terrify  you.  The  more  furious  my  adversaries,  the  more 
"  advance.  I  leave  the  things  that  are  behind,  for 
them  to  bark  at,  and  I  stretch  forward  to  those  that 
are  before,  that  they  may  bark  at  those  also  in  their 
turn." 

Eck  felt  how  disgraceful  his  conduct  had  been,  and 
endeavoured  to  justify  himself  in  a  letter  to  Carlstadt. 
In  it  he  termed  Luther  their  "common  friend."  He 
threw  all  the  blame  on  the  bishop  of  Eichstadt,  at 
whose  solicitation,  he  declared,  he  had  written  his 
work.  He  had  not  intended  to  publish  the  Obelisks, 
he  said  ;  if  it  had  been  otherwise,  he  would  have  mani- 
fested more  regard  for  the  ties  of  friendship,  by  which 
he  was  united  to  Luther.  Finally,  he  intimated  a 
wish  that,  instead  of  engaging  in  a  public  controversy 
with  him,  Luther  should  turn  his  arms  against  the  di- 
vines of  Frankfort.  The  professor  of  Ingolstadt,  who 
had  not  feared  to  strike  the  first  blow,  began  to  quail 
when  he  considered  the  strength  of  the  adversary  he 
had  had  the  imprudence  to  attack.  He  would  wil- 
lingly have  avoided  the  contest.  But  it  was  now  too 
late. 

All  these  fine  speeches  did  not  satisfy  Luther ;  how- 
ever, he  wished  to  remain  silent.  "  I  will  swallow 
patiently,"  he  said,  "  this  morsel,  worthy  of  Cerbe- 
rus."}: But  his  friends  were  of  a  different  opinion. 
They  importuned  him,  and  oblgied  him  to  comply. 
He  therefore  answered  Eck's  Obelisks,  by  his  Aster- 
isks, or  stars  ;  "  opposing,"  as  he  said,  "  the  light, 
and  dazzling  brightness  of  the  stars  of  heaven,  to  the 

*  Et  quod  magis  urit,  antea  mihi  magna  recenterque  con- 
tracta  amicitia  conjunctus.  (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  100.) 

t  Quo  furore  ille  amicitias  recentissimas  et  jucundissimas 
solveret.  (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  100.) 

}  Volui  taraen  hanc  offam  Cerbero  dignam  absorbere  pa- 
tientia.  (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  100.) 


THE  "  ASTERISKS"— SCHEURL  ATTEMPTS  RECONCILIATION. 


rust  and  livid  hue  of  the  doctor  of  Ingolstadt."  In  this 
work,  he  treated  his  new  adversary  with  less  harshness 
than  he  had  used  toward  his  former  opponents ;  but 
his  suppressed  indignation  an  times  broke  forth  in  his 
words. 

He  proved  that,  in  all  that  chaos  of  obelisks,  there  was 
nothing  of  the  Scriptures,  nothing  of  the  Fathers  of  the 
church,  nothing  of  the  ecclesiastical  canons ;  but 
throughout,  nothing  but  glosses  of  the  schools  ;  opi- 
nions, mere  opinions,  and  dreams  ;*  in  a  word,  all 
those  very  things  that  Luther  had  attacked.  The  Aster- 
isks are  full  of  life  and  energy.  The  author  is  indig- 
nant at  the  errors  in  his  friend's  book,  but  he  pities  the 
man.f  He  again  asserts  the  fundamental  principle 
that  he  had  maintained  in  his  answer  to  Prierias  : 
"  The  sovereign  pontiff  is  a  man,  and  may  be  led  into 
err6r  ;  but  God  is  truth  itself,  and  cannot  err."t  And 
afterward,  using  an  argument,  '  ad  hominem,"1  against 
the  scholastic  doctor,  "  It  is  certainly  an  act  of  auda- 
city," says  he,  "  for  any  one  to  teach,  as  the  philoso- 
phy of  Aristotle,  what  he  cannot  prove  on  Aristo- 
tle's authority.  You  will  allow  this.  Well,  with 
much  greater  reason  is  it  the  height  of  audacity  to  af- 
firm, in  the  church,  and  among  Christians,  what  Christ 
himself  has  not  taught.  $  Now,  where  do  we  find  in 
the  Bible,  that  the  treasure  of  Christ's  merits  is  con- 
fided to  the  pope  1" 

Lastly,  he  adds,  "  As  to  the  malicious  reproach  of 
Bohemian  heresy,  I  bear  this  accusation  patiently,  for 
Christ's  sake.  I  live  in  a  celebrated  university,  a  city 
of  note,  a  considerable  bishopric,  a  powerful  duchy, 
where  all  are  orthodox,  and  where,  undoubtedly,  they 
would  not  tolerate  so  wicked  a  heretic." 

Luther  did  not  publish  the  Asterisks,  he  only  com- 
municated them  to  his  friends  ;  it  was  not  till  after- 
ward that  they  were  given  to  the  public.  II 

This  rupture,  between  the  doctor  of  Ingolstadt  and 
the  doctor  of  Wittemberg,  caused  a  great  sensation 
in  Germany.  They  had  common  friends.  Scheurl, 
especially,  took  alarm.  It  was  through  him  that  the 
two  doctors  had  become  acquainted.  He  was  one  of 
those  who  wished  to  see  a  reformation  take  place,  in 
the  universal  Germanic  church,  and  by  the  agency  of 
its  most  distinguished  members.  But  if,  at  the  outset, 
the  most  eminent  theologians  were  to  fall  to  quarrel- 
ling ;  if,  whilst  Luther  was  advancing  new  opinions, 
Eck  stood  up  as  the  representative  of  the  old,  what 
confusion  was  to  be  apprehended  1  Would  not  nume- 
rous adherents  flock  around  each  chief,  and  form  two 
hostile  camps  in  the  bosom  of  the  empire  1 

On  these  accounts,  Scheurl  endeavoured  to  recon- 
cile Eck  and  Luther.  The  latter  declared  himself 
ready  to  forget  everything ;  that  he  loved  Eck's  ta- 
lents ;1T  that  he  admired  his  learning  ;  and  that  he  felt 
more  grief  than  anger  at  his  old  friend's  conduct.  "I  am 
prepared,"  said  he  to  Scheurl,  "  either  for  peace  or 
war  ;  but  I  prefer  peace.  Help  us,  then,  by  your  good 
offices ;  grieve  with  us  that  the  devil  has  kindled  this 
beginning  of  discord  among  us  ;  and  afterward  rejoice, 
that  Christ  in  his  mercy  has  extinguished  it."  He 
wrote  affectionately  to  Eck,  but  the  latter  returned  no 
answer.**  He  did  not  even  send  him  any  message 

*  Omnia  scholasticissima,  opiniosissima,  meraque  somnia 
(Ast  Opp.  L.  lat.  i.  p.  145.) 

f  Indignor  rie  et  misereor  hominis.  (Ast.  Opp.  L.  lat.  i.  150.) 

I  Homo  est  summus  Pontifex,  falli  potest.  Sed  veritas  est 
Dens,  qui  falli  non  potest.  (Ibid.  155.) 

§  Longe.  ergo  impudentissima  omnium  temeritas  est,  aliquic 
in  ecclesia  asserere,  et  inter  Christianos,  quod  non  docuit 
Christus.  (Ast.  Opp.  L.  lat.  i.  156.) 

I!  Cum  privatim  dederim  Astericos  meos,  fit  ei  respondendi 
necessitas.  (L.  Epp.  p.  126.) 

ITDiligimus  hominis  ingenium  et  admiramur  eruditionem 
(L.  Epp.  ad  Scheurlum,  15  June,  1518,  i.  p.  125.) 

**  Nihil  neque  literatum  neque  verborum  me  participem  fe 
Cit.  (L.  Epp.  ad  Scheurlum,  15  June.  1518,  i.  p.  125.) 


The  time  for  a  reconciliation  was  past.      The  breach 
grew  wider  and  wider.  The  pride  of  Eck,  and  his  im- 
lacable  spirit,  soon  broke  the  last  ties  of  their  declin- 
ng  friendship. 

Such  were  the  struggles  which  the  champion  of 
5od's  word  had  to  maintain  in  the  beginning  of  his  ca- 
eer.  But,  in  the  estimation  of  a  Christian,  those  com- 
>ats  are  of  small  account,  that  are  to  be  waged  in  the 
ligh  places  of  this  world,  or  in  the  arena  of  the  schools, 
luman  teachers  imagine  that  they  have  obtained  a 
splendid  triumph,  if  some  literary  circles  are  filled  with 
he  fame  of  their  systems.  As  their  desire  is  rather  to 
_ratify  their  self-love,  or  to  please  a  party,  than  to 
>enefit  mankind,  this  brilliant  worldly  success  suffices 
.hem.  Thus,  their  labours  may  be  compared  to  srnoke, 
which,  after  blinding  the  eyes,  passes  away  without 
eaving  any  vestige  behind.  Neglecting  to  deposit 
,heir  principles  in  the  masses,  they  do  little  more  than 
skim  the  surface  of  society. 

Not  so  the  Christian  :  his  aim  is  neither  a  name  in 
society,  nor  academical  honours  ;  but  the  salvation  of 
souls.  He  willingly  foregoes  the  intellectual  rivalry, 
n  which  he  might  engage  at  his  ease,  with  the  disput- 
ers  of  this  world,  and  prefers  the  secret  labours  which 
carry  light  and  life  into  the  sequestered  dwellings  of 
the  poor.  This  did  Luther  ;  or  rather,  following  his 
Vfaster's  precept,  "  he  did  this,  and  left  no  other  things 
undone."  While  combating  inquisitors,  chancellors 
of  universities,  and  masters  of  the  palace,  he  laboured 
to  diffuse  sound  religious  knowledge  among  the  multi- 
tude. With  this  view,  he  about  the  same  time  pub- 
ished  several  popular  tracts,  such  as  his  sermons  on 
;he  ten  commandments,  preached  two  years  previously 
m  the  church  of  Wittemberg,  and  which  have  already 
aeen  mentioned  ;  and  also  his  explanation  of  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  for  the  simple  and  unlearned  laity. 
Who  would  not  desire  to  know  what  the  Reformer 
then  addressed  to  the  people  i*  We  will  cite,  there- 
"ore,  some  of  the  words  which  he  put  forth,  "to  run 
through  the  land,"  as  he  says  in  the  preface  to  the 
"ast-mentioned  work. 

Prayer,  that  interior  act  of  the  heart,  will  undoubt- 
edly be  ever  one  of  the  points  with  which  a  true  and 
vital  reformation  will  commence ;  Luther's  thought 
was  turned  to  this  solemn  subject.  It  is  not  possible 
to  transfuse  his  energetic  style  and  the  vigour  of  his 
language,  which  was  in  course  of  formation,  so  to 
peak,  under  his  pen  as  he  composed.  We  will,  how- 
ever, make  some  attempt. 

•'  When  thou  prayest,"  said  he,  "  let  thy  words  be 
few,  but  thy  thoughts  and  feelings  many  and  deep. 
The  less  thou  speakest,  the  better  thy  prayers.  Few 
words  and  much  thoughts  is  a  Christian  frame.  Many 
words  and  little  thought  is  heathenish." 

"  The  prayer  that  is  external  and  of  the  body,  is  that 
mumbling  of  the  lips,  outward  babble — gone  through 
without  attention,  and  heard  and  seen  of  men  ;  but 
prayer,  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  is  the  inward  desire,  the 
motions  and  sighs  that  proceed  from  the  depth  of  the 
heart.  The  former  is  the  prayer  of  the  hypocrites, 
and  of  those  who  trust  in  themselves,  the  latter  is  the 
prayer  of  God's  children,  who  walk  in  his  fear." 

Passing  on,  to  the  opening  words  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  he  thus  expresses  himself:  Our  Father.  "  Of 
all  names,  there  is  not  one  which  more  inclines  us  to- 
ward God,  than  the  name  of  Father.  We  should  feel 
less  love,  and  derive  less  consolation,  from  addressing 
him  as  Lord,  or  God,  or  Judge.  By  that  word,  Father, 
his  bowels  of  compassion  are  moved  ;  for  there  is  no 
sound  more  sweet  or  prevailing  with  a  father,  than  the 
voice  of  his  child." 

He  continues ;    and  on  the  words,  "  Who  art   in 

*  (L.  Opp.  Leips.  vii.  p.  1036.) 


LUTHER'S  TRACTS—"  OUR  DAILY  BREAD 


REMISSION  OF  SINS.' 


87 


heaven,"  he  says  :  "  Whosoever  professes  that  he  has  a 
Father  in  heaven,  acknowledges  himself  to  be  a  stranger 
upon  earth  ;  hence,  there  is  in  his  heart  an  ardent 
longing,  like  that  of  a  child  that  is  living  among 
strangers,  in  want  and  grief,  afar  from  its  father-land. 
It  is  as  if  he  said,  '  Alas  !  my  Father,  thou  art  in  hea- 
ven, and  I,  thy  suffering  child,  am  on  earth,  far  from 
thee,  encompassed  with  danger,  wants,  and  mourning.' 
"  Hallowed  be  thy  name."  "  He  who  is  passionate, 
abusive,  envious,  and  slanderous,  dishonors  the  name 
of  God  in  which  he  has  been  baptized.  Profaning 
to  impious  uses  a  vessel  that  God  has  consecrated 
to  himself,  he  is  like  a  priest  who  should  take  the 
holy  cup  and  give  drink  to  swine,  or  gather  dung  into 
it." 

"  Thy  kingdom  come"  Those  who  amass  property 
and  build  magnificent  mansions,  who  strive  after  what 
the  world  can  give,  and  utter  this  prayer  with  their 
lips,  resemble  those  huge  organ  pipes,  which  incessant- 
ly sing  with  all  their  power  in  the  churches,  without 
speech,  feeling,  or  reason." 

Further  on,  Luther  attacks  the  error  of  pilgrimages, 
which  was  then  so  prevalent :  "  One  goes  to  Rome, 
another  to  St.  James,  a  third  builds  a  chapel,  and  a 
fourth  endows  religious  houses,  in  order  to  attain  to 
the  kingdom  of  God ;  but  all  neglect  the  one  thing 
needful,  which  is  to  become  themselves  His  kingdom  ! 
Why  seek  the  kingdom  of  God  beyond  the  seas  1  It 
is  in  thy  heart  it  should  arise." 

"  It  is  an  awful  thing,"  he  continues,  "  to  hear  us 
offer  this  petition,  '  Thy  will  be  done.'  Where  in  the 
church  do  we  see  this  '  will  of  God  ?'  One  bishop 
rises  up  against  another  bishop  ;  one  church  against 
another  church.  Priests,  monks,  and  nuns  quarrel,  and 
thwart  and  wage  war  with  each  other,  and  everywhere 
discord  prevails.  And  yet  each  party  declares  that 
there  is  good-will  and  upright  intention  ;  and  so,  to 
the  honour  and  glory  of  God,  they  altogether  do  the 

devil's  work " 

"  Why  do  we  use  the  words,  '  our  bread  1'  "  he 
continues,  expounding  these  words,  '  Give  us  this  day 
our  daily  bread.'  "  Because  we  do  not  pray  for  the 
common  bread  that  heathens  partake,  and  which  God 
gives  to  all  men — but  far  '  our  '  bread,  the  bread  of 
those  who  are  '  children  of  the  heavenly  Father.' 

"  And  what  then  is  this  bread  of  God  ?  It  is  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.  '  I  am  the  bread  of  life  which  came 
down  from  heaven,  and  giveth  life  to  the  world.' 
Therefore  let  no  one  be  deluded  :  whatever  sermons 
and  instructions  do  not  exhibit  and  make  known  Jesus 
Christ,  cannot  be  the  daily  bread  and  nourishment  of 
souls." 

"  Of  what  use  is  it  that  such  bread  has  been  provi- 
ded, if  it  is  not  served  up,  and  so  we  are  unable  to 
partake  of  it  1  It  is  as  if  a  noble  feast  were  prepared, 
and  none  were  ready  to  distribute  the  bread,  to  place 
the  meat  on  the  table,  or  fill  the  cups,  and  so  the  guests 
should  be  reduced  to  feed  on  the  mere  sight  and  smell. 
Therefore,  we  must  preach  Christ  alone. 

"  But,  say  you,  what  is  it  to  know  Christ  ?  and  what 
good  will  come  of  it  ?  I  answer  ;  to  learn  and  know 
Christ,  is  to  understand  what  the  Apostle  declares, 
namely  :  that '  Christ  is  made  unto  us  of  God,  wisdom 
righteousness,  sanctification,  and  redemption.'  Now 
you  understand  that,  if  you  acknowledge  all  your  wis- 
dom mere  blameworthy  foolishness,  your  righteousness 
a  criminal  iniquity,  your  holiness  a  guilty  pollution,  your 
redemption  a  miserable  sentence  of  condemnation  ;  if 
you  feel  that  you  are  truly,  before  God,  and  before 
all  creatures,  a  fool,  a  sinner,  an  impure  and  condemned 
man;  if  you  manifest,  not  by  word  alone,  but  from  the 
bottom  of  your  heart  and  by  your  works — that  there  is 
neither  salvation  nor  comfort  for  you,  save  only  in 


Christ.  To  believe  is  nothing  else  than  feeding  on 
this  bread  from  heaven." 

Thus  Luther  faithfully  adhered  to  his  resolution  to 
open  the  eyes  of  a  blinded  people,  whom  the  priests 
were  leading  at  their  pleasure.  His  writings  rapidly 
dispersed  throughout  Germany,  called  up  a  new  light, 
and  shed  abundantly  the  seed  of  truth  on  a  soil  well 
prepared  for  it.  But  while  attending  to  those  who 
were  at  a  distance,  he  did  not  forget  those  who  were 
nigh  at  hand. 

The  Dominicans,  from  their  pulpit,  anathematized 
he  infamous  heretic.  Luther — the  man  of  the  people, 
and  who,  if  he  had  desired  it,  could,  by  a  few  words, 
lave  called  up  the  popular  fury  against  them — disdain- 
ed such  triumphs,  and  thought  only  of  instructing  his 
learers. 

And  he  did  so.  His  reputation,  which  spread  more 
and  more  widely,  and  the  boldness  with  which  he  lifted 
he  banner  of  Christ,  in  the  midst  of  an  enslaved 
Church,  increased  the  eager  attendance  on  his  preach- 
ng  at  Wittemberg.  The  crowd  of  hearers  was  more 
considerable  than  ever.  Luther  went  straight  to  his 
mark.  One  day,  having  ascended  the  pulpit,  he  under- 
took to  prove  the  doctrine  of  repentance,  and  on  this 
occasion  he  pronounced  a  discourse  which  became 
afterward  very  celebrated,  and  in  which  he  laid  down 
some  of  the  grounds  of  the  evangelical  doctrine. 

He  first  contrasted  man's  pardon  with  God's  pardon. 
"  There  are,"  said  he,  "  two  kinds  of  remission  :  the 
remission  of  the  penalty,  and  the  remission  of  the  sin. 
The  first  reconciles  outwardly  the  offender  with  the 
Church.  The  second,  which  is  the  heavenly  grace, 
reconciles  the  offender  with  God.  If  a  man  does  not 
find  in  himself  that  peace  of  conscience,  that  joy  of 
heart  which  springs  from  God's  remission  of  sin,  there 
's  no  indulgence  that  can  help  him,  though  he  should 
buy  all  that  had  ever  been  offered  upon  earth." 

He  continues  :  "  They  wish  to  do  good  works  before 
their  sins  are  forgiven  them — while  it  is  indispensable 
that  our  sins  be  pardoned  before  good  works  can  be 
done.  It  is  not  works  which  banish  sin  ;  but,  drive 
out  sin,  and  you  will  have  works.*  For  good  works 
must  be  done  with  a  joyful  heart  and  a  good  con- 
science toward  God,  that  is,  with  remission  of  sins." 

He  then  comes  to  the  chief  object  of  this  sermon, 
which  was  also  the  great  end  of  the  whole  Reforma- 
tion. The  Church  had  put  itself  in  the  place  of  God 
and  his  word  ;  he  rejects  her  assumption,  and  shows 
everything  to  depend  on  faith  in  God's  word. 

"  The  remission  of  the  sin  is  out  of  the  power  of 
pope,  bishop,  priest,  or  any  man  living  ;  and  rests 
solely  on  the  word  of  Christ,  and  on  thine  own  faith. 
For  Christ  did  not  design  that  our  comfort,  our  hope, 
and  our  salvation,  should  be  built  on  a  word  or  work 
of  man,  but  solely  on  himself,  on  his  work,  and  on  his 
word.  .  . .  Thy  repentance  and  thy  works  may  deceive 
thee ;  but  Christ,  thy  God,  will  not  deceive  thee,  nor  will 
he  falter,  and  the  devil  shall  not  overthrow  his  words. "f 

"  A  pope,  or  a  bishop,  has  no  more  power  to  remit 
sin  than  the  humblest  priest.  And  even  without  any 
priest,  every  Christian,  even  though  a  woman  or  a  child, 
can  do  the  same.J  For  if  a  simple  believer  say  to 
thee,  '  God  pardon  thy  sin  in  the  name  of  Jesus 
Christ,' — and  thou  receive  that  word  with  firm  faith, 
and  as  though  God  himself  spake  it  to  thee — thou  art 
absolved." 

"  If  thou  dost  not  believe  that  thy  sins  are  forgiven 
thee,  thou  makest  thy  God  a  liar,  and  showest  thyself 

*  NichtdieWerke  treiben  die  Si'mde  aus  ;  sondern  die  Au- 
streibung  der  Siinde  thut  gute  Werke.  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii. 
p.  162.) 

t  Christus  dein  Got*  wird  dir  nicht  liigen,  noch  wanken. 
(L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  162.) 

j  Ob  es  schon  ein  Weib  oder  ein  kind  ware.    (Ibid.) 


88 


LUTHER'S  JOURNEY—THE  PALATINE  CASTLE— THE  "PARADOXES." 


to  hold  more  to  thy  vain  thoughts  than  to  God  and  his 
word." 

"  Under  the  Old  Testament,  neither  priest,  nor  king, 
nor  prophet,  had  authority  to  declare  remission  of  sins. 
But  under  the  New,  every  believer  has  this  power. 
The  Church  is  full  of  remission  of  sins.*  If  a  devoted 
Christian  should  comfort  thy  conscience  by  the  word 
of  the  cross,  whether  that  Christian  be  a  man  or  woman, 
young  or  old,  receive  that  comfort  with  such  faith  as 
to  endure  death  a  hundred  times,  rather  than  doubt 
that  God  has  ratified  it.  Repent ;  do  all  the  works 
thou  canst ;  but  let  faith  in  pardon  through  Christ, 
hold  the  first  rank,  and  command  the  whole  field  of 
your  warfare. "t 

Thus  spake  Luther  to  his  surprised  and  delighted 
hearers.  All  the  superstructures  which  presumptuous 
priests  had  raised  for  their  own  gain  between  God  and 
the  soul  of  man  were  thrown  down,  and  man  brought 
face  to  face  with  his  God.  The  word  of  forgiveness  now 
descended  pure  from  on  high,  without  passing  through 
a  thousand  corrupting  channels.  That  the  witness  of 
God  should  be  received,  it  was  no  longer  necessary  that 
men  should  attach  to  it  their  delusive  seal.  The  mo- 
nopoly of  the  priestly  cast  was  abolished  ;  the  Church 
was  delivered  from  her  thraldom. 

Meanwhile  it  was  become  needful  that  the  flame 
that  had  been  lighted  up  in  Wittemberg  should  be 
kindled  elsewhere,  Luther,  not  satisfied  with  proclaim- 
ing the  truth  of  the  Gospel  in  the  place  of  his  own 
abode,  as  well  to  the  students  as  to  the  people,  was 
desirous  to  scatter  in  other  places  the  seeds  of  sound 
doctrine.  In  the  spring  of  1518,  the  order  of  the  Au- 
gustines  held  its  chapter  general  at  Heidelberg.  Lu- 
ther was  summoned  thither  as  one  of  the  most  distin- 
guished men  of  his  order.  His  friends  made  every 
effort  to  dissuade  him  from  undertaking  this  journey. 
In  truth,  the  monks  had  laboured  to  make  the  name 
of  Luther  hated  in  all  the  places  he  would  have 
to  pass  through.  To  insult  they  added  threats.  A 
little  matter  would  suffice  to  raise  a  tumult  on  his 
journey,  in  which  he  might  fall  a  victim.  "  Or  else," 
said  his  friends,  "  what  they  dare  not  do  by  violence, 
they  will  accomplish  by  treachery  and  fraud. "J  But 
Luther  never  allowed  himself  to  be  stopped  short  in 
the  performance  of  a  duty  by  fear  of  danger,  however 
imminent.  Accordingly,  he  was  deaf  to  the  timid  sug- 
gestions of  his  friends  :  he  plainly  showed  in  whom  he 
put  his  trust,  and  under  whose  protection  he  was  re- 
solved to  undertake  this  dreadful  journey.  Then  the 
festival  of  Easter  being  terminated,  he  quietly  set  out 
on  foot,$  the  13th  April,  1518. 

He  took  with  him  a  guide,  named  Urban,  who  car- 
ried his  little  baggage,  and  was  to  accompany  him  as 
far  as  Wurtzberg.  What  thoughts  must  have  crowded 
the  heart  of  this  servant  of  the  Lord,  during  his  journey  ! 
At  Weissenfels,  the  pastor,  who  had  no  previous 
knowledge  of  him,  recognised  him  immediately  as  the 
Doctor  of  Wittemberg,  and  received  him  cordially.il 
At  Erfurth,  two  other  brethren  of  the  order  of  the 
Augustines  joined  company  with  him.  At  Judenbach, 
the  three  travellers  met  Degenhard  Pfeffinger,  the  con- 
fidential adviser  of  the  Elector,  and  were  entertained 
by  him  at  the  inn.  "  I  had  the  pleasure,"  writes  Lu- 
ther to  Spalatin,  "  of  making  the  rich  lord  poorer  by 
some  groschen  ;  you  know  how  I  love  on  all  occasions 
to  levy  contributions  on  the  rich  for  the  advantage  of 
the  poor ;  especially  when  the  rich  are  friends  of 
mine."1T  He  reached  Coburg,  overcome  with  fatigue. 
"  All  goes  well,  by  God's  favour,"  wrote  he,  "  unless 

*  Also  siehst  du  dass  die  ganze  Kirche  roll  von  Veerge- 
bung  der  Siinden  ist.     (Ibid.) 
t  Und  Hauptmann  im  Felde  bloibe.    (Ibid.) 
|  L.  Epp.  i.  p.  93.  &  Pedester  veniam.    (Ibid.) 

||  L.  Epp.  i.  p.  105.  ffL.Epp.i.p.104. 


it  be  that  I  must  acknowledge  myself  to  have  sinned 
in  undertaking  this  journey  on  foot.  But  for  that  sin 
I  think  I  have  no  need  of  any  indulgence,  for  my  con- 
trition is  perfect,  and  the  satisfaction  plenary.  I  am 
exhausted  with  fatigue,  and  all  the  conveyances  are  full. 
Is  notjhis  enough,  and  more  than  enough,  of  penance, 
contrition,  and  satisfaction  1"* 

The  Reformer  of  Germany,  not  finding  room  in  the 
public  conveyances,  nor  any  one  willing  to  give  up  his 
place  to  him,  was  obliged,  on  the  following  morning, 
notwithstanding  his  weariness,  to  set  out  again  from 
Coburg,  on  foot.  He  arrived  at  Wurtzburg  the  second 
Sunday  after  Easter,  toward  evening.  From  thence 
he  sent  back  his  guide. 

It  was  in  this  town  that  the  Bishop  of  Bibra  resided, 
who  had  received  his  theses  with  so  much  approbation. 
Luther  was  the  bearer  of  a  letter  to  him  from  the  Elec- 
tor of  Saxony.  The  Bishop,  delighted  with  the  oppor- 
tunity thus  offered  of  becoming  personally  acquainted 
with  this  courageous  champion  of  the  truth,  immediate- 
ly invited  him  to  the  episcopal  palace.  He  himself 
went  to  meet  him,  addressed  him  very  affectionately, 
nd  offered  to  procure  him  a  guide  as  far  as  Heidelberg. 
But  Luther  had  met  at  Wurtzburg  his  two  friends,  the 
Vicar- General,  Staupitz,  and  Lange,  the  Prior  of  Er- 
furth, and  had  been  offered  a  seat  in  their  carriage. 
He  therefore  thanked  Bibra  for  his  proffered  kindness, 
and  the  next  day  the  three  friends  set  out  from  Wurtz- 
burg. They  travelled  in  this  manner  for  three  days, 
conversing  together.  On  the  21st  of  April  they  reach- 
ed Heidelberg.  Luther  alighted  at  the  convent  of  the 
Augustines. 

The  Elector  of  Saxony  had  given  him  a  letter  for 
the  Count  Palatine  Wolfgang,  Duke  of  Bavaria.  Lu- 
ther repaired  to  his  magnificent  castle,  the  delightful 
situation  of  which  is  even  at  this  day  the  admiration 
of  strangers.  The  monk,  a  native  of  the  plains  of 
Saxony,  had  a  heart  capable  of  admiring  the  picturesque 
situation  of  Heidelberg,  commanding  the  two  beautiful 
valleys  of  the  Rhine  and  the  Necker.  He  delivered 
bis  letter  of  recommendation  to  John  Simler,  the  stew- 
ard of  the  household.  The  latter,  on  reading  it,  ob- 
served :  "  Truly,  you  have  a  valuable  letter  of  credit 
bere."f  The  Count  Palatine  received  Luther  very 
graciously.  He  invited  him  repeatedly  to  his  table,, 
together  with  Lange  and  Staupitz.  It  was  a  great 
comfort  to  Luther  to  meet  with  so  friendly  a  reception. 
"  We  were  very  happy  together,"  says  he,  "  and 
amused  each  other  with  agreeable  and  pleasant  con- 
versation, taking  our  repast,  examining  the  beauties 
of  the  Palatine  palace,  admiring  the  ornaments,  the  ar- 
moury, cuirasses,  and  everything  remarkable  that  this 
celebrated  and  truly  royal  castle  contains. "t 

But  Luther  had  another  task  to  perform.  He  must 
work  while  it  was  yet  day.  Called  for  a  time  to  a 
university  which  exercised  an  extensive  influence  over 
the  west  and  south  of  Germany,  he  was  there  to  strike 
a  blow  which  should  put  in  movement  the  churches  of 
those  countries.  He  began  therefore  to  write  some 
theses,  which  he  proposed  to  maintain  in  a  public  dis- 
putation. Such  disputations  were  not  unusual ;  but 
Luther  felt  that,  to  make  this  useful,  it  must  be  of  a 
striking  character.  His  natural  disposition,  moreover, 
prompted  him  to  present  truth  in  a  paradoxical  form. 
The  professors  of  the  university  would  not  suffer  the 
disputation  to  take  place  in  their  great  hall.  A  room 
was,  therefore,  engaged  in  the  convent  of  the  Augus- 
tines, and  the  26th of  April  was  fixed  for  the  discussion. 

Heidelberg  at  a  later  period  received  the  evangelical 
doctrine.  One  who  was  present  at  the  conference 

*  Ibid.  106. 

t  Ihr  habt,  bei  Oott,  einen  kostlichen  Credenz.    (L.  Epp.  1. 

'i  L.  Epp.  1.  iii. 


THE  DISPUTATION :  ITS  RESULTS— BUCER— BRENTZ. 


in  the  convent  of  the  Augustines  might  have  then  fore- 
seen, that  that  conference  would  one  day  bear  fruit. 

The  reputation  of  Luther  attracted  a  numerous  au- 
ditory-— professors,  courtiers,  burghers,  students,  came 
in  crowds.  The  following  are  some  of  the  Doctor's 
"paradoxes," — for  by  that  name  he  designated  his 
theses.  Even  in  our  day,  perhaps,  some  might  give 
them  no  better  name  ;  yet  it  would  be  easy  to  render 
them  in  propositions  obvious  to  common  sense. 

"  1.  The  law  of  God  is  a  salutary  rule  of  life  ;  and 
yet  it  cannot  help  man  in  the  obtaining  of  righteous- 
ness ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  impedes  him." 

"  3.  Works  of  men,  let  them  be  as  fair  and  good  as 
they  may,  are  yet  evidently  nothing  but  mortal  sins.' 

"  4.  Works  that  are  of  God,  however  unsightly  and 
evil  in  appearance,  have  yet  an  endless  efficacy." 

"  7.  The  works  of  the  righteous  themselves  would 
be  mortal  sins — if,  from  a  holy  reverence  of  the  Lord, 
they  did  not  fear  that  their  works  might  indeed  be 
mortal  sins."* 

"  9.  To  say  that  works  done  out  of  Christ  are  truly 
dead  works — but  not  mortal  sins — is  a  dangerous  for- 
getfulness  of  the  fear  of  God." 

"  13.  Free  will,  since  the  fall  of  man,  is  but  an 
empty  word  ;  and  if  man  does  all  he  can,  he  still  sins 
mortally." 

"16.  A  man  who  dreams  he  can  attain  to  grace  by 
doing  all  that  is  in  his  power,  add  sin  to  sin — and  is 
doubly  guilty." 

"  18.  It  is  certain  that  man  must  altogether  despair 
of  his  own  ability,  if  he  would  be  made  capable  of  re- 
ceiving the  grace  of  Christ." 

"21.  A  theologian  of  this  world  calls  good — evil, 
and  evil — good  ;  but  a  teacher  of  the  cross  is  a  teach- 
er of  truth." 

"  22.  The  wisdom  which  applies  itself  to  learn  the 
invisible  perfections  of  God,  from  his  works,  puffs  up, 
blinds,  and  hardens  men." 

"  23.  The  law  calls  forth  God's  anger :  slays,  ac- 
curses,  judges,  and  condemns,  whatsoever  is  not  in 
Christ."! 

"  24.  Yet  this  wisdom  (§.  22,)  is  not  an  evil ;  and 
the  law  ($.  23,)  is  not  to  be  rejected ;  but  he  who 
learns  not  the  wisdom  of  God,  under  the  Cross,  turns 
to  evil  whatever  is  good." 

"  25.  That  man  is  not  justified  who  does  many 
works  ;  but  he  who,  without  having  yet  done  works, 
has  much  faith  in  Christ." 

"  26.  The  law  says,  '  Do  this,'  and  what  it  enjoins 
is  never  done  ;  Grace  says,  '  Believe  in  him,'  and  im- 
mediately all  is  perfected. "i 

"  28.  The  love  of  God  finds  nothing  in  man,  but 
creates  in  him  what  he  loves.  Man's  love  is  the  gift 
of  his  well  beloved. "§ 

Five  doctors  of  divinity  attacked  these  theses.  They 
had  read  them  with  the  surprise  that  their  novelty  excited. 
Such  theology  seemed  to  them  extravagant.  They, 
however,  entered  on  the  discussion,  as  Luther  tells  us, 
with  a  courtesy  which  inspired  him  with  much  esteem 
for  them :  yet,  with  great  earnestness  and  discernment. 
Luther,  on  his  part,  manifested  unusual  mildness  in 
his  mode  of  reply,  unrivalled  patience  in  listening  to 
the  objections  of  his  opponents,  and  all  the  quickness 
of  St.  Paul  in  solving  the  difficulties  opposed  to  him. 
His  answers — short,  but  full  of  the  word  of  God — 
astonished  his  hearers.  "  He  is  exactly  like  Erasmus," 

*  Justorum  opera  essent  martalia,  nisi  pio  Dei  timore  ab  ip- 
sismet  justis  ut  mortaliatimerentur.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  i.  65.) 

t  Lex  iram  Dei  operatur,  occidit,  maledicit,  reum  facit,  ju- 
dicat,  damnat,  quicquid  non  est  in  Christo.  (Ibid.) 

J  Lex  dicit :  Fac  !  et  nunquam  fit.  Gratia  dicit :  Credein 
hunc,  et  jam  facta  sunt  omnia.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  i.  55.) 

§  Amor  Dei  non  inyenit  sed  creat  suuiu  diligibile ;  amor 
ho  minis  fit  a  suo  diligibili. 


said  many,  "  except  that  he  has  surpassed  him  in  one 
thing— that  is,  he  openly  professes  what  Erasmus  was 
satisfied  with  insinuating."* 

The  disputation  was  drawing  near  to  its  close.  The 
adversaries  of  Luther  had,  at  least,  retreated  with 
honour  from  the  field  ;  the  youngest  of  them,  Doctor 
George  Niger,  alone  continued  the  contest  with  the 
powerful  disputant ;  alarmed  at  the  bold  propositions 
of  the  Augustine  monk,  and  not  knowing  what  argu- 
ment to  have  resourse  to,  he  exclaimed,  with  an  accent 
of  fear,  "  If  our  peasantry  heard  such  things,  they 
would  stone  you  to  death. "t  At  these  words  a  general 
laugh  went  round  the  assembly. 

Yet  never  did  an  auditory  listen  with  more  attention 
to  a  theological  discussion.  The  first  words  of  the 
Reformer  had  aroused  men's  minds.  Questions,  which 
but  a  little  while  before,  would  have  met  only  with 
indifference,  were,  at  that  hour  teeming  with  interest. 
An  observer  might  have  read,  in  the  countenances 
of  those  present,  the  new  ideas  which  the  bold  asser- 
tions of  the  Saxon  Doctor  awakened  in  their  minds. 

Three  youths,  especially,  were  much  affected.  One 
of  them,  by  name  Martin  Bucer,  was  a  Dominican,  of 
twenty-seven  years  of  age,  who,  in  spite  of  the  preju- 
dices of  his  order,  seemed  unwilling  to  lose  a  word  of 
the  Doctor's  remarks.  A  native  of  a  small  town  in 
Alsace,  had,  in  his  sixteenth  year,  entered  a  con- 
vent. He  soon  showed  such  capacity,  that  the  more 
enlightened  of  the  monks  formed  high  expectations  of 
him.J  "  He  will,  one  day,"  said  they,  "  be  an  honour 
to  our  order."  His  superiors  accordingly  sent  him  to 
Heidelberg,  that  he  might  apply  himself  to  the  study 
of  philosophy,  theology,  Greek,  and  Hebrew.  At  that 
period,  Erasmus  published  several  of  his  writings. 
Martin  Bucer  read  them  with  avidity. 

Shortly  after  this,  the  first  published  writings  of  Lu- 
ther appeared.  The  student  of  Alsace  hastened  to 
compare  the  doctrines  of  the  Reformer  with  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  Some  misgivings  as  to  the  truth  of  Popery 
were  then  awakened  in  his  mind.$  It  was  in  this  way 
that  light  was  spread  in  those  days.  The  Elector 
Palatine  took  notice  of  the  young  man.  His  power- 
ful and  sonorous  voice  and  agreeable  manners,  his 
eloquence,  and  the  freedom  with  which  he  attacked 
the  prevailing  vices,  made  his  preaching  remarkable. 
Appointed  chaplain  to  the  Elector,  he  was  fulfilling  the 
functions  of  his  office,  when  he  heard  of  Luther's  visit 
to  Heidelberg.  How  great  was  his  joy  !  He  was 
among  the  first  to  repair  to  the  hall  of  the  convent  of 
the  Augustines.  He  had  with  him  paper,  pens,  and  ink, 
ntending  to  take  notes.  But  while  his  hand  rapidly 
traced  the  words  of  Luther,  the  hand  of  God  wrote, 
n  imperishable  characters,  on  his  heart,  the  great  truths 
le  heard.  The  first  gleams  of  the  doctrine  of  grace 
diffused  themselves  in  his  soul  in  the  course  of  that 
memorable  hour.  II  The  Dominican  was  won  to  Christ. 

Not  far  from  Bucer  sate  John  Brentz,  or  Brentius, 
hen  nineteen  years  of  age.  Brentz,  son  of  a  magis- 
rate  of  a  town  in  Suabia,  had  been  entered  student  at 
Heidelberg  in  his  thirteenth  year.  His  application 
was  unequalled.  He  rose  at  midnight  for  study.  This 
custom  had  become  so  confirmed,  that  in  after  life  he 
could  never  sleep  after  that  hour.  But  at  a  latter 
)eriod  he  devoted  the  stillness  of  these  seasons  to  me- 
ditation on  the  Scriptures.  Brentz  was  one  of  the  first 

*  Bucer  in  Schultetet.    Annal.  Evang.  renorat.  p.  22. 

t  Si  rustici  haec  audirent,  certe  lapidibus  vos  obruerent  et 
nterficerent.  L.  Epp.  i.  p.  111. 

t  Prudentioribus  monachis  spem  de  se  praeclaram  excitavit. 
Melck.  Adam.  Vit.  Buceri,  p.  211. 

§  Cum  doctrinam  in  eis  traditam  cum  sacris  literis  contulis- 
et,  quaedam  in  pontificia  religione  suspecta  hebere  ccepit. 
Ibid.) 

||  Primam  lucem  purioriris  sententise  de  justificatione  in  suo 
pectore  ensit.  (Melch,  Adam.  Vit.  Buceri,  p.  211.) 


90 


GOSPEL  AT  HEIDELBERG— EFFECT  ON  LUTHER— THE  OLD  PROFESSOR. 


to  discern  the  new  light  then  appearing  in  Germany. 
He  hailed  it  with  a  soul  overflowing  with  love.*  He 
eagerly  perused  the  writings  of  Luther.  But  how 
was  he  rejoiced  at  the  opportunity  of  hearing  him  at 
Heidelberg  !  One  of  the  Doctor's  propositions  espe- 
cially struck  young  Brentz.  It  was  this  :  "  That  man 
is  not  justified  in  the  sight  of  God  who  does  many 
works ;  but  he  who,  without  having  yet  done  works, 
has  much  faith  in  Christ." 

A  pious  woman  of  Heilbronn,  on  the  Necker,  the 
wife  of  one  of  the  council  of  that  town,  named  Snepf, 
following  the  example  cf  Hannah,  had  dedicated  her 
first-born  son  to  the  Lord,  in  the  fervent  desire  to  see 
him  devote  himself  to  the  study  of  divinity.  This 
young  man,  born  in  1495,  made  rapid  progress  in  learn- 
ing ;  but  either  from  liking,  or  from  ambition,  or  else 
in  compliance  with  his  father's  desire,  he  took  to  the 
study  of  jurisprudence.  The  pious  mother  grieved  to 
see  her  son  Ehrhard  pursuing  a  course  different  from 
that  to  which  she  had  consecrated  him.  She  admo- 
nished him,  expostulated,  and  again  and  again  remind- 
ed him  of  her  vow  made  at  his  birth. f  At  length, 
overcome  by  his  mother's  perseverance,  Ehrhard  Snepf 
complied,  and  he  soon  had  such  a  relish  for  his  new 
studies,  that  nothing  could  have  diverted  him  from 
them. 

He  was  very  intimate  with  Bucer  and  Brentz,  and 
this  friendship  continued  as  long  as  they  lived  ;  "  for," 
says  one  of  their  historians,  "  friendships  founded  on 
the  love  of  literature  and  of  virtue  are  always  lasting." 
He  was  present  with  his  two  friends  at  the  disputation 
at  Heildeberg.  The  paradoxes  and  courageous  efforts 
of  the  Doctor  of  Wittemberg  gave  a  new  impulse  to 
his  mind.  Rejecting  the  vain  opinion  of  human  merit, 
he  embraced  the  doctrine  of  the  free  justification  of  the 
sinner. 

The  next  day  Bucer  went  to  Luther.  "  I  had,"  says 
he,  "  a  familiar  private  conversation  with  him,  a  most 
exquisite  repast — of  no  ordinary  viands,  but  of  the 
truths  which  he  set  before  me.  To  every  objection 
that  I  made,  the  Doctor  had  a  ready  reply  ;  and  he 
explained  everything  with  the  greatest  clearness.  Oh ! 
would  to  God  I  had  time  to  write  you  more  about  it."J 
Luther  was  himself  affected  with  Bucer' s  deep  emtion. 
"  He  is  the  only  brother  of  his  order,"  he  wrote  to 
Spalatin,  "  who  is  sincere  ;  he  is  a  young  man  of  great 
promise.  He  received  me  with  simplicity,  arid  con- 
versed very  earnestly.  He  deserves  our  love  and 
confidence. "§ 

Brentz,  Snepf,  and  many  others,  moved  by  the  new 
truths  which  were  beginning  to  enlighten  their  minds, 
also  visited  Luther ;  they  talked  and  conferred  with 
him  ;  they  requested  an  explanation  of  what  they  had 
not  understood.  The  Reformer,  leaning  on  the  word 
of  God,  answered  them.  Every  word  that  he  spoke 
imparted  fresh  light  to  their  minds.  A  new  world 
seemed  to  open  before  them. 

After  the  departure  of  Luther,  these  noble-mindec 
men  began  to  teach  at  Heidelberg.  It  was  fit  tha 
they  should  carry  on  what  the  man  of  God  had  begun 
and  not  leave  the  torch  that  he  had  kindled  to  expire 
The  disciple  will  speak,  when  the  teacher  is  silent 
Brentz,  young  as  he  was,  undertook  to  expound  St 
Matthew's  Gospel — at  first  in  his  own  room — after' 
ward,  when  that  apartment  was  found  too  small,  in  the 
hall  of  Philosophy.  The  theologians,  envious  at  th< 
concourse  of  hearers  that  this  young  man  drew  toge 

*  Ingens  Dei  benefiaium  lastus  Brentius  agnovit,  et  grata 
mente  amplexus  est.  (Ibid.) 

t  Crebris  interpellationibus  cum  voti  quod  denato  ispa  face- 
rat  admoneret,  et  a  studio  juris  ad  theologiam  quasi  convicii 
avocaret.  (Melch.  Adami  Snepfii  Vita.) 

i  Gerdesius,  Monument.  Antiq.  &C. 

\  L.  Epp.  i.  p.  412. 


ier,  betrayed  their  irritation.  Brentz  then  took  orders, 
nd  transferred  his  lectures  to  the  college  of  the 
anons  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Thus  the  fire,  already 
indled  in  Saxony,  was  communicated  to  Heidelberg, 
^he  light  spread  rapidly.  This  period  has  been  called 
le  seed-time  of  the  Palatinate. 

But  it  was  not  the  Palatinate  alone  that  reaped  the 
ruits  of  that  memorable  disputation  at  Heidelberg, 
^hese  courageous  friends  of  the  truth  soon  became 
hinirig  lights  in  the  Church.  All  of  them  attained  to 
minerit  stations,  and  took  a  conspicuous  part  in  the 
ransactions  to  which  the  Reformation  gave  birth. 
Strasburg,  and  afterward  England,  were  indebted  to 
tie  labours  of  Bucer  for  a  purer  knowledge  of  the  truth. 
Snepf  first  declared  it  at  Marburg,  then  at  Stuttgard,  at 
^ubingen,  and  at  Jena.  And  Brentz,  after  having 
iboured  at  Heidelberg,  taught  fora  long  time  at  Halle 
i  Suabia,  and  at  Tubingen.  We  shall  meet  with  them 
gain,  as  we  trace  the  course  of  the  Reformation. 

This  disputation  carried  forward  Luther  himself.  He 
ncreased  from  day  to  day  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
ruth.  "  I  am  one  of  those,"  said  he,  "  who  have 
myself  made  progress  by  writing  for  and  instructing 
thers — not  one  of  those  who,  without  any  such  train- 
ng,  have  suddenly  become  great  and  learned  doctors." 

He  was  delighted  to  see  the  eagerness  with  which 
he  young  students  received  the  growing  truth.  This 
t  was  that  comforted  him  when  he  found  the  old  doc- 
ors  so  deeply  rooted  in  their  opinions.  "  I  have  the 
glorious  hope,"  said  he,  "  that  even  as  Christ,  when 
ejected  by  the  Jews,  turned  toward  the  Gentiles  ;  so 
we  shall  see  the  rising  generation  receive  the  true  the- 
>logy,  which  these  old  men,  wedded  to  their  vain  arid 
antastical  opinions,  now  obstinately  reject." 

The  chapter  being  ended,  Luther  proposed  return- 
ng  to  Wittemberg.  The  Count  Palatine  gave  him  a 
etter  for  the  Elector,  dated  the  1st  of  May,  in  which 
le  said,  that  "  the  skill  which  Luther  had  shewn  in  the 
lisputation  did  great  honour  to  the  university  of  Wittem- 
>erg."  He  was  not  allowed  to  return  on  foot.f  The 
Augustines  of  Nuremberg  conducted  him  as  far  as 
Wurtzburg.  From  thence  he  went  to  Erfurth,  with 
he  brethern  of  that  city.  Immediately  on  his  arrival, 
le  paid  a  visit  to  his  former  master  Jocodus.  The 
)ld  professor,  much  grieved  and  scandalized  at  the 
course  his  pupil  had  taken,  was  accustomed  to  prefix 
o  all  Luther's  propositions  a  theta,  the  letter  which 
he  Greeks  made  use  of  to  denote  condemnation. $ 
On  several  occasions  he  had  written  to  the  young  doc- 
tor in  a  style  of  reproach.  The  latter  wished  to  an- 
swer those  leters  by  word  of  -mouth.  Not  being  ad- 
mitted, he  wrote  to  his  master  :  "  All  the  university, 
with  the  exception  of  one  licentiate,  think  as  I  do.  Nay, 
more  :  the  Prince,  the  Bishop,  several  other  prelates, 
and  all  the  most  enlightened  of  our  citizens,  declare 
unaniomously,  that  till  now,  they  never  knew  or  under- 
stood Christ  and  his  Gospel.  I  am  willing  to  receive 
your  reproofs.  And  even  should  they  be  harsh,  they 
will  appear  gentle  to  me.  Open  your  heart,  therefore, 
without  fear  ;  express  your  displeasure  :  I  will  not,  and 
cannot,  be  angry  with  you.  God  and  my  own  con- 
science are  my  witnesses.""^ 

The  old  doctor  was  affected  by  these  expressions 
of  his  former  pupil.  He  wished  to  try  whether  thero 
were  no  means  of  removing  the  condemnatory  theta. 
They  talked  over  the  subject,  but  to  no  purpose.  "  I 
made  him  understand,  however,"  says  Luther,  "  that 
all  their  dogmas  were  like  that  creature  which  is  s-aid 
to  devour  itself.  But  it  is  useless  to  talk  to  a  deaf 

*  L.  Eqp.  i.  p.  112 

t  Vcni  autem  curru  qui  ieram  pedester.    (L  Epp.  i.  p.  110.) 
j  Omnibus  placitis  meis  nigrum  theta  praefigit.     (Ibid.  p. 
111.) 
§  L.  Epp.  i,  p.  111. 


RETURN  TO  WITTEMBERG— THE  POPE. 


91 


man.  These  doctors  cling  to  their  petty  distinctions, 
though  they  confess  that  they  have  nothing  to  confirm 
them  but  what  they  call  the  light  of  natural  reason — a 
gloomy  chaos  to  us  who  proclaim  the  one  and  only 
light,  Christ  Jesus."* 

Luther  quitted  Erfurth  in  the  carriage  belonging  to 
the  convent,  which  took  him  to  Eisleben.  From  thence 
the  Augustines  of  the  place,  proud  of  the  doctor  who 
had  done  such  honour  to  their  order  and  their  town, 
which  was  his  native  place,  furnished  him  with  horses 
*  Nisi  dictamine  rationis  naturalis,  quod  apud  nps  idem  est 
quod  chaos  tenebratum,  qui  non  praedicamus  aliam  lucem 
quam  Christum  Jesum  lucem  veram  et  solam.  (L.  Epp.  i.  p. 
111.) 


to  proceed  to  Wittemberg  at  their  expense.  Every 
one  wished  to  show  some  mark  of  affection  and  esteem, 
to  this  extraordinary  man,  whose  fame  was  daily  in- 
creasing. 

He  arrived  on  the  Saturday  after  Ascension  day. 
The  journey  had  done  him  good,  and  his  friends  thought 
him  looking  stronger  and  in  better  health  than  before 
he  set  out.*  They  rejoiced  at  all  that  he  related.  Lu- 
ther rested  for  a  while  after  the  fatigue  of  his  journey 
and  his  dispute  at  Heidelberg ;  but  this  rest  was  only 
a  preparation  for  severer  labours. 

*  Ita  ut  nonnullis  videar  factus  habilior  et  corpuleotor- 
(L.  Epp.  i.  p.m.) 


BOOK  IV. 

LUTHER  BEFORE  THE  LEGATE. 
MAY  TO  DECEMBER,  1518. 


AT  length  Truth  had  raised  its  head  in  the  midst  of 
the  nations  of  Christendom.  Having  triumphed  over 
the  inferior  instruments  of  the  papal  power,  it  was  now 
to  enter  upon  a  struggle  with  its  head  himself.  We 
are  about  to  contemplate  Luther  in  close  conflict  with 
Rome. 

It  was  after  his  return  from  Heidelberg  that  Luther 
advanced  to  the  attack.  His  first  Theses  on  the  in- 
dulgences had  been  imperfectly  understood.  He  re- 
solved to  set  forth  their  meaning  more  plainly.  He  had 
found,  by  the  clamours  proceeding  from  the  blindness 
and  hatred  of  his  enemies,  how  important  it  was  to 
gain  over  to  the  side  of  truth  the  more  enlightened 
portion  of  the  nation — he  decided  therefore  to  appeal 
to  its  judgment,  by  presenting  to  it  the  grounds  on 
which  his  new  conviction  rested.  It  was  quite  neces- 
sary to  invite  the  decision  of  Rome ;  he  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  send  thither  his  explanations  ;  while,  with  one 
hand,  he  held  them  forth  to  all  his  impartial  and  en- 
lightened fellow-countrymen,  he,  with  the  other,  laid 
them  before  the  footstool  of  ihe  sovereign  Pontiff. 

These  explanations  of  his  theses,  which  he  called 
solutions,*  were  written  with  great  moderation.  Lu- 
ther tried  to  soften  the  passages  that  had  occasioned 
irritation,  and  evinced  a  genuine  modesty.  But,  at 
the  same  time,  he  manifested  an  immoveable  convic- 
tion, and  courageously  defended  every  proposition  that 
truth  obliged  him  to  maintain.  He  repeated,  once 
more,  that  every  Christian  who  truly  repented  had  re- 
mission of  sins  without  any  indulgences  ;  that  the  Pope 
had  no  more  power  than  the  lowest  priest  to  do  any- 
thing beyond  simply  declaring  the  forgiveness  that  God 
had  already  granted  ;  that  the  treasury  of  the  merits  of 
saints,  administered  by  the  Pope,  was  a  pure  fiction  : 
and  that  holy  Scripture  was  the  sole  rule  of  faith. 
But  let  us  listen  to  his  own  statement  of  some  of  these 
things. 

He  begins  by  laying  down  the  nature  of  true  repent- 
ance, and  contrasts  that  act  of  God,  by  which  man  is 
regenerated,  with  the  mummeries  of  the  Romish  church. 
— "The  Greek  word,  //eravoeire,"  said  he,  "signifies, 
put  on  a  new  spirit,  a  new  mind  ;  take  to  you  a  new 
nature,  so  that,  ceasing  to  be  earthly,  you  may  become 
heavenly ;  Christ  is  a  teacher  of  the  spirit,  and  not  of 
the  letter,  and  his  words  are  spirit  and  life."  Thus  he 

*  L.  Opp.  Leipsig.  xvii.  p.  29  to  113. 


teaches  a  repentance  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  and  not 
those  outward  penances  which  the  haughtiest  sinner 
may  perform  without  any  real  humiliation — he  re- 
quires a  repentance  which  may  be  wrought  in  every 
situation  of  life — under  the  purple  robe  of  kings,  under 
the  priest's  cassock,  the  prince's  hat — in  the  midst  of 
the  splendours  of  Babylon,  where  Daniel  dwelt,  as  well 
as  under  the  monk's  frock,  or  the  mendicant's  rags.* 

Further  on  we  read  these  bold  words  :  "  I  care  lit- 
tle what  pleases  or  displeases  the  pope.  He  is  a  man, 
like  other  men.  There  have  been  many  popes,  who 
have  not  only  taken  up  with  errors  and  vices,  but 
things  yet  more  extraordinary.  I  listen  to  the  pope,  as 
pope  ;  that  is,  when  he  speaks  in  the  canons,  agreea- 
bly to  the  canons,  or  regulates  any  matter,  conjointly 
with  a  council ;  but  not  when  he  speaks  of  his  own 
mind.  If  I  acted  on  any  other  rule,  might  I  not  be 
required  to  say,  with  those  who  know  not  Jesus  Christ, 
that  the  horrble  massacres  of  Christians,  by  which  Ju- 
lius II.  was  stained,  were  the  good  deeds  of  a  kind 
shepherd  of  the  Lord's  sheep  l"t 

"  I  must  needs  wonder,"  he  continues,  "  at  the  sim- 
plicity of  those  who  have  said  that  the  two  swords  in 
the  Gospel  represent — the  one  the  spiritual,  the  other 
the  temporal  power.  True  it  is,  that  the  pope  holds  a 
sword  of  iron  ;  and  thus,  offers  himself  to  the  view  of 
Christians,  not  as  a  tender  father,  but  as  an  awful  ty- 
rant. Alas!  God,  in  his  anger,  hath  given  us  the 
sword  we  preferred,  and  withdrawn  that  which  we 
despised.  Nowhere,  in  all  the  earth,  have  there  been, 
more  cruel  wars,  than  among  Christians.  Why  did 
not  the  same  ingenious  critic,  who  supplied  this  fine 
commentary,  interpret  the  narrative  of  the  two  keys, 
delivered  to  St.  Peter,  in  the  same  subtle  manner,  and 
establish,  as  a  dogma  of  the  church,  that  one  serves  to 
unlock  the  treasury  of  heaven,  and  the  other,  the  trea- 
sures of  the  world  ]"t 

"  It  is  impossible,"  says  he,  "  for  a  man  to  be  a 
Christian,  without  having  Christ.  And,  if  he  has  Christ, 
he  has,  at  the  same  time,  all  that  is  in  Christ.  What 
gives  peace  to  the  conscience  is,  that,  by  faith,  our 
sins  are  no  longer  ours,  but  Christ's,  upon  whom  God 
hath  laid  them  all ;  and  that,  on  the  other  hand,  all 
Christ's  righteousness  is  ours,  to  whom  God  hath 
given  it.  Christ  lays  his  hand  upon  us,  and  we  are 

*  On  the  first  Thesis.        f  Thesis  26.       }  Thesis  80. 


LEO  X.— LUTHER  TO  HIS  BISHOP— LUTHER  TO  THE  POPE. 


healed.  He  casts  his  mantle  upon  us,  and  we  are 
clothed ;  for  he  is  the  glorious  Saviour — blessed  for 
ever!"* 

With  such  views  of  the  riches  of  salvation,  by 
Christ,  there  could  no  longer  be  any  need  of  indul- 
gences. 

At  the  same  time  that  Luther  thus  attacked  the  pa- 
pal rule,  he  spoke  honourably  of  Leo  X.  "  The  times 
we  live  in,"  said  he,  "  are  so  evil,  that  even  persons 
of  the  highest  station,  have  no  power  to  help  the  church. 
We  have,  at  this  time,  a  very  good  pope  in  Leo  X. 
His  sincerity  and  learning  are  a  matter  of  joy  to  us. 
But  what  can  he  do  alone — amiable  and  gracious  as 
he  is  1  He  deserved,  assuredly,  to  be  elected  pope  in 
better  times.  In  these  days  we  deserve  none  but  such 
as  Julius  II.,  or  Alexander  VI." 

He  then  came  to  this  point — "  I  will  speak  out — in 
a  few  words,  and  boldly.  The  church  requires  to  be 
reformed.  And  it  is  a  work,  neither  for  one  man,  as 
the  pope,  nor  for  several,  as  the  cardinals  and  fathers, 
in  council  assembled — but  for  the  whole  world  ;  or, 
rather,  it  is  a  work  which  appertains  to  God  alone. 
As  to  the  time  when  such  reformation  shall  commence, 
he  only  knows  it  who  has  appointed  all  time.  The  bar- 
riers are  thrown  down,  and  it  is  no  longer  in  our  power 
to  restrain  the  overflowing  billows." 

These  are  a  few  of  the  declarations  and  thoughts 
which  Luther  addressed  to  the  more  enlightened  of 
his  countrymen.  Whitsuntide  was  drawing  near  ;  and 
thus,  it  was  at  the  same  season  which  the  apostles  ren- 
dered to  their  risen  Saviour  the  first  testimony  of  their 
faith,  that  Luther,  the  new  apostle,  published  this  ani- 
mated testimony,  in  which  he  breathed  forth  his  ar- 
dent desires  for  the  resurrection  of  the  church.  On 
Whitsun-eve,  22d  of  May,  1518,  he  despatched  this 
writing  to  the  Bishop  of  Brandenburg,  his  ordinary, 
accompanied  with  these  words : 

"  Most  worthy  Father  in  God  ! 

"  It  is  now  some  time  since  a  new  and  unheard-of 
doctrine,  concerning  the  apostolic  indulgences,  began 
to  be  preached  in  these  parts.  The  learned  and  the 
unlearned  were  troubled  by  it  ;  and  many  persons, 
known,  or  personally  unknown  to  me,  requested  me  to 
declare,  from  the  pulpit  or  by  writing,  my  opinion  of 
the  novelty — I  will  not  say,  the  impudence,  of  the  doc- 
trine I  refer  to.  At  first,  I  kept  myself  silent  and  neu- 
tral. But,  at  last,  things  came  to  such  a  pass,  that 
the  pope's  holiness  was  compromised. 

"  What  could  I  do  1  I  thought  it  my  part  neither 
to  approve  nor  condemn  these  doctrines,  but  to  open 
a  discussion  on  this  important  subject,  till  such  time 
as  the  holv  church  should  pronounce  upon  it. 

"  No  one  presenting  himself,  or  accepting  the  chal- 
lenge to  a  discussion,  which  I  had  invited  all  the  world, 
and  my  theses  being  considered  not  as  a  matter  of  de- 
bate, but  as  propositions,  dogmatically  assertedt — I 
find  myself  obliged  to  put  forth  an  explanation  of  them. 
Deign,  therefore,  to  accept  these  offerings  $that  I  pre- 
sent to  you,  most  clement  Bishop.  And,  that  all  may 
see  that  I  am  not  acting  presumptuously,  I  entreat 
your  reverence  to  take  pen  and  ink,  and  blot  out,  or 
even  throw  into  the  fire,  whatever  may  displease  you. 
I  know  that  Christ  needs  none  of  my  labour  or  ser- 
vices, and  that  he  can  easily,  without  my  instrumen- 
tality, make  known  the  good  tidings  in  his  church. 
Not  that  the  denunciations  and  threats  of  my  enemies 
alarm  me — quite  the  contrary.  If  they  were  not  so 
wanting  in  prudence,  and  lost  to  shame,  no  one  should 
hear  or  know  anything  about  me.  I  would  immure 

*  Thesis  37. 

t  Non  ut  disputabilia  sed  asserta  accipereutur,    (L.  Epp. 

t  Ineptias. 


myself  in  a  corner,  and  there  study  alone,  for  my  own 
profit.  If  this  matter  is  not  of  God,  it  will  certainly 
not  be  to  my  honour,  nor  to  the  honour  of  any  manr 
but  will  come  to  nought.  May  glory  and  honour  be  to 
him  to  whom  alone  they  belong  1" 

Luther  was,  up  to  this  time,  under  the  influence  of 
respect  for  the  head  of  the  church.  He  gave  credit  to 
Leo  for  justice  and  a  love  of  truth.  Accordingly,  he  re- 
solved to  write  to  him  also.  A  week  after,  on  Trinity 
Sunday,  30th  of  May,  1.518,  he  addressed  to  him  a  let- 
ter, of  which  the  following  are  some  fragments  : 

"  To  the  Most  Blessed  Father,  Pope  Leo  X. ;  Su- 
preme Bishop — brother  Martin  Luther,  an  Augustine, 
wishes  eternal  salvation ! 

"  I  hear,  most  holy  Father,  that  evil  reports  circu- 
late concerning  me,  and  that  my  name  is  in  bad  odour 
with  your  Holiness.  I  am  called  a  heretic,  an  apos- 
tate, a  traitor,  and  a  thousand  other  reproachful  names. 
What  I  see,  surprises  me ;  and  what  I  hear,  alarms  me. 
But  the  sole  foundation  of  my  tranquillity  remains  un- 
moved— being  a  pure  and  quiet  conscience.  Oh,  holy 
Father !  deign  to  hearken  to  me,  who  am  but  a  child, 
and  need  instruction." 

Luther  then  relates  the  affair  from  the  beginning, 
and  thus  proceeds. 

"  Nothing  was  heard  in  all  the  taverns,  but  com- 
plaints of  the  avarice  of  the  priests,  attacks  on  the 
power  of  the  keys,  and  of  the  supreme  bishop.  I  call 
all  Germany  to  witness.  When  I  heard  these  things, 
my  zeal  was  aroused  for  the  glory  of  Christ — if  I  un- 
derstand my  own  heart ;  or,  if  another  construction  is- 
to  be  put  upon  my  conduct,  my  young  and  warm  blood 
was  inflamed. 

I  represented  the  matter  to  certain  princes  of  the 
Church,  but  some  laughed  at  me,  and  others  turned  a 
deaf  ear.  The  awe  of  your  name  seemed  to  have 
made  all  motionless.  Thereupon,  I  published  this 
dispute. 

"  This,  then,  holy  Father,  this  is  the  action  which 
has  been  said  to  have  set  the  whole  world  in  a  flame  I 

"  And  now  what  am  I  to  do  1  I  cannot  retract  what 
I  have  said,  and  I  see  that  this  publication  draws  down 
on  me,  from  all  sides,  an  inexpressible  hatred.  I  have 
no  wish  to  appear  in  the  great  world — for  I  am  unlearn- 
ed, of  small  wit,  and  far  too  inconsiderable  for  such 
great  matters,  more  especially  in  this  illustrious  age, 
when  Cicero  himself,  if  he  were  living,  would  be  con- 
strained to  hide  himself  in  some  dark  corner.* 

"  But,  in  order  to  appease  my  enemies,  and  satisfy 
the  desires  of  many  friends,  I  here  publish  my  thoughts. 
I  publish  them,  holy  Father,  that  I  may  dwell  the  more 
safely  under  your  protection.  All  those  who  desire  it 
may  here  see  with  what  simplicity  of  heart,  I  have 
petitioned  the  supreme  authority  of  the  Church  to  in- 
struct me,  and  what  respect  I  have  manifested  for  the 
power  of  the  keys,  t  If  I  had  not  acted  with  propriety, 
it  would  have  been  impossible  that  the  serene  lord 
Frederic,  Duke  and  Elector  of  Saxony,  who  shines 
foremost  among  the  friends  of  the  apostolic  and  Chris- 
tian truth,  should  have  endured  that  one,  so  dangerous 
as  I  am  asserted  to  be,  should  continue  in  his  univer- 
sity of  Wittemberg. 

"  Therefore,  most  holy  Father,  I  throw  myself  at 
the  feet  of  your  Holiness,  and  submit  myself  to  you, 
with  all  that  I  have,  and  all  that  I  am,.  Destroy  my 
cause  or  espouse  it :  pronounce  either  for,  or  against, 
me  ;  take  my  life,  or  restore  it,  as  you  please  ;  I  will 
receive  your  voice  as  that  of  Christ  himself,  who  pre- 
sides and  speaks  through  you.  If  I  have  deserved 

•  "  Sed  cogit  necessitas  me  anserem  strepere  inter  olores," 
adds  Luther.  (L.  Epp.  i.  121.) 

fQuam  pure  simpliciterque  ecclesiasticam  potestatem  et 
reverentiam  clavium  quEesierim  et  coluerim.  (Ibid.) 


LUTHER  TO  THE  VICAR-GENERAL— THE  CARDINAL  TO  THE  ELECTOR.        93 


death,  I  refuse  not  to  die  ;*  the  earth  is  the  Lord's, 
and  all  that  therein  is.  May  He  be  praised  for  ever 
and  ever.  May  He  maintain  you  to  all  eternity. 
Amen. 

"  Signed  the  day  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  in  the  year 
1518.  Brother  Martin  Luther,  Augustine." 

What  humility  and  truth  in  this  fear,  or  rather  this 
admission,  of  Luther,  that  his  young  and  warm  blood 
had  perhaps  taken  fire  too  hastily  !  We  see  here  the 
man  of  sincerity,  who,  instead  of  presuming  on  himself, 
dreads  the  influence  of  his  passions,  even  in  such  ac- 
tions as  are  most  conformable  to  the  commandment  of 
God.  This  is  not  the  language  of  a  proud  fanatic. 
We  behold  Luther's  earnest  desire  to  gain  over  Leo 
to  the  cause  of  truth,  to  avoid  all  schism,  and  to  cause 
the  Reformation  (the  necessity  of  which  he  proclaimed,) 
to  proceed  from  the  highest  authority  in  the  Church. 
Certainly,  it  is  not  he  who  can  be  accused  of  having 
broken  up  that  unity  of  the  western  Church,  which  so 
many  of  all  sects  have  since  regretted.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  gave  up  everything  but  truth  that  he  might 
maintain  it.  It  was  his  adversaries  who.  refusing  to 
allow  the  fullness  and  sufficiency  of  the  salvation 
wrought  by  Jesus  Christ,  tore  to  shreds  the  Lord's 
vesture  at  the  foot  of  the  cross. 

After  writing  this  letter,  Luther,  on  the  same  day, 
wrote  to  his  friend  Staupitz,  Vicar-general  of  his  order. 
It  was  through  him  that  he  resolved  to  forward  to  Leo 
both  his  "  Solutions  "  and  his  letter. 

"  I  beg  of  you,"  said  he,  "  to  receive  with  favour 
the  poor  productions  that  I  send  you,t  and  to  forward 
them  to  the  excellent  Pope  Leo  X.  Not  that  I  mean 
by  this  to  draw  you  into  the  peril  in  which  I  stand  ;  I 
am  resolved  myself  to  incur  the  whole  danger.  Christ 
will  look  to  it,  and  make  it  appear  whether  what  I  have 
said  comes  from  him  or  myself — Christ,  without  whom 
the  Pope's  tongue  cannot  move,  nor  the  hearts  of  kings 
decree. 

"  As  for  those  who  threaten  me,  I  have  no  answer 
for  them  but  the  saying  of  Reuchlin :  *  The  poor  man 
has  nothing  to  fear,  for  he  has  nothing  to  lose.'J  I 
have  neither  money  nor  estate,  and  I  desire  none.  If 
I  have  sometimes  tasted  of  honour  and  good  report, 
may  He  who  has  begun  to  strip  me  of  them  finish  his 
work.  All  that  is  left  mo  is  this  wretchod  body,  en- 
feebled by  many  trials — let  them  kill  it  by  violence  or 
fraud,  so  it  be  to  the  glory  of  God  :  by  so  doing  they 
will  but  shorten  the  term  of  my  life  by  a  few  hours. 
It  is  sufficient  for  me  that  I  have  a  precious  Redeemer, 
a  powerful  High  Priest,  my  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  I  will 
praise  him  as  long  as  I  have  breath.  If  another  will 
not  join  me  in  praising  him,  what  is  that  to  me  ?" 

In  these  words  we  read  the  innermost  heart  of  Lu- 
ther. 

Whilst  he  was  thus  placing  confidence  in  Rome, 
Rome  had  thoughts  of  vengeance  against  him.  As 
early  as  the  3d  of  April,  Cardinal  Raphael  de  Rovera 
bad  written  to  the  Elector  Frederic,  in  the  Pope's  name, 
to  intimate  that  some  suspicion  was  entertained  of  his 
fidelity,  and  to  desire  him  to  avoid  protecting  Luther. 
*•  The  Cardinal  Raphael,"  observed  the  latter,  "  would 
have  been  well  pleased  to  see  me  burned  alive  by  Duke 
Frederic. "$  Thus  Rome  was  beginning  to  turn  arms 
against  Luther,  her  first  blow  was  directed  to  the  de- 
priving him  of  his  protector's  favour.  If  she  succeed- 

*  Quare,  beatissime  Pater,  prostratum  me  pedibus  twjo  Bea- 
titudinis  offero,  cum  omnibus  quac  sum  et  habco  j  vivifica, 
occiodevoca.revoca;  approba,  reproba,  utplacuerit.  Vocem 
tuam  vocem  Christ!  in  te  prresidentis  et  loquentis  agnoscam. 
Si  mortem  merui,  mori  non  recusabo.  (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  121.) 

f  The  Solutions. 

j  Qui  pauper  est  nih.il  timet,  nihilpotest  perdere.  (L.  Epp. 
i.  118.) 

§  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xv.  p.  339. 


ed  in  destroying  this  shelter  of  the  monk  of  Wittem- 
berg,  he  would  fall  an  easy  prey  to  her  agents. 

The  German  sovereigns  were  very  tenacious  of  their 
reputation  as  Christian  princes.  The  slightest  suspi- 
cion of  heresy  filled  them  with  fears.  The  Roman 
Court  had  skilfully  taken  advantage  of  this  disposition 
of  mind.  Frederic  had  always  been  attached  to  the 
religion  of  his  fathers.  Hence  the  Cardinal  Raphael's 
letter  produced  a  very  considerable  impression  upon 
his  mind.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Elector  made 
it  a  rule  never  to  be  hasty  in  anything.  He  knew  that 
truth  was  not  always  on  the  side  of  the  strongest. 
The  disputes  of  the  Empire  with  Rome  had  taught 
him  to  discern  the  interested  views  of  that  Court.  He 
had  arrived  at  the  conviction  that,  to  be  a  Christian 
prince,  it  was  not  necessary  to  be  a  slave  to  the  Pope. 

"  He  was  not  one  of  those  profane  persons,"  says 
Melancthon,  "  who  would  stifle  all  changes  in  their 
very  birth.  Frederic  submitted  himself  to  the  will  of 
God.  He  carefully  read  the  writings  that  were  put 
forth,  and  would  not  allow  any  to  destroy  what  he 
thought  true."  He  possessed  this  power.  Besides, 
being  absolute  sovereign  of  his  own  dominions,  he  en- 
joyed at  least  as  much  respect  throughout  the  Empire 
as  was  paid  to  the  Emperor  himself. 

It  is  probable  that  Luther  received  some  intimation 
of  this  letter  of  Cardinal  Raphael's,  which  reached  the 
Elector  on  the  7th  of  July.  Perhaps  it  was  in  the 
prospect  of  excommunication,  which  this  Roman  mis- 
sive semed  to  forbode,  that  he  ascended  the  pulpit  of 
Wittemberg  on  the  15th  of  the  same  month,  and  preach- 
ed a  discourse  on  that  topic,  which  made  a  deep  im- 
pression on  his  hearers.  He  explained  the  distinction 
between  inward  and  outward  excommunications,  the 
former  excluding  from  communion  with  God,  and  the 
latter,  from  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  Church. 
"  No  one,"  said  he,  "  can  reconcile  the  fallen  soul  to 
God  but  the  Lord.  No  one  can  separate  a  man  from 
communion  with  God  but  that  man  himself,  by  his  own 
sins.  Blessed  is  that  manwhodies  under  an  unjust  sen- 
tence of  excommunication  !  Whilst,  for  righteousness' 
sake,  he  suffers  a  cruel  judgment  from  men,  he  receives 
from  God  the  crown  of  everlasting  happiness  !" 

Some  loudly  commended  this  bold  language  ;  others 
were  yet  more  enraged  by  it. 

But  Luther  did  not  now  stand  alone  ;  and  though 
his  faith  needed  no  other  support  than  that  of  God  him- 
self, he  had  called  up  on  all  sides  a  power  that  protect- 
ed him  from  his  enemies.  The  voice  of  this  man  had 
been  heard  by  the  whole  German  nation.  From  his 
sermons  and  writings  issued  beams  of  light  which 
awakened  and  illuminated  his  contemporaries.  The 
energy  of  his  faith  rushed  like  a  stream  of  fire  upon  the 
frozen  hearts  of  men.  The  life  which  God  had  given 
to  this  extraordinary  mind  was  imparted  to  the  dead 
body  of  the  Church.  Christendom,  which  had  remain- 
ed motionless  for  so  many  years,  was  now  alive  with 
religious  enthusiasm.  The  popular  attachment  to  the 
superstitions  of  Romanism  was  daily  lessening;  those 
who  came  with  money  in  hand  to  purchase  pardon  were 
every  day  fewer  ;*  and  the  reputation  of  Luther  was 
every  day  extended.  Men's  thoughts  were  directed 
toward  him,  and  he  was  hailed  with  affection  and  re- 
spect, as  the  intrepid  defender  of  truth  and  freedom.! 
Doubtless  all  did  not  penetrate  the  depths  of  the  doc- 
trines he  proclaimed.  It  was  enough  for  the  greater 
number  to  know  that  the  new  doctor  stood  up  against 
the  Pope  ;  and  that,  at  his  powerful  word,  the  dominion 
of  the  priests  and  monks  was  tottering  to  its  fall.  The 
attack  of  Luther  was  to  them  like  a  beacon-fire  on  a 

*  Rareseebant  manus  largentium.     (Cochlaeus,  7.) 
fLuthero  autem  contra  augcbatur  auctoritas,  favor,  fidoa, 
aastimatio. 


94 


ON  EXCOMMUNICATION— LUTHER'S  INFLUENCE— DIET  AT  AUGSBURG. 


mountain- top,  which  announces  to  a  whole  people  the 
moment  for  bursting  their  bonds.  Luther  was  not  aware 
of  the  influence  he  had  obtained,  till  all  the  generous 
spirits  among  his  countrymen  had  by  acclamation  ac- 
knowledged him  their  leader.  But  to  many  the  appear- 
ance of  Luther  was  much  more  than  this.  The  word 
of  God,  which  he  handled  with  so  mnch  power, 
penetrated  to  the  souls  of  men  like  a  two-edged  sword. 
In  many  hearts  an  ardent  desire  was  kindled  to  obtain 
the  assurance  of  pardon  and  everlasting  life.  Since 
the  first  ages  of  the  Church,  there  had  not  been  wit- 
nessed such  hungering  and  thirsting  after  righteousness. 
If  the  preaching  of  Peter  the  Hermit,  and  of  Bernard, 
had  induced  multitudes,  during  the  middle  ages,  to  as- 
sume outwardly  the  symbol  of  the  cross,  the  preaching 
of  Luther  influenced  the  hearts  of  men  to  take  up  the 
cross — the  truth  that  saves  the  soul.  The  superstruc- 
ture, which  then  encumbered  the  Church,  had  smoth- 
ered true  piety  :  the  form  had  extinguished  the  spirit. 
The  word  of  power  given  to  Luther  was  as  a  breath 
of  life  to  Christendom.  At  first  sight  the  writings  of 
Luther  carried  with  them  the  sympathy  both  of  the 
faithful  and  of  the  unbeliever  ;  of  the  latter,  because 
the  positive  doctrines,  afterward  to  be  established, 
were  not  yet  fully  opened  ;  of  the  former,  because  those 
doctrines  were  in  principle  comprised  in  that  living 
faith,  which  his  writings  set  forth  with  so  much  power. 
Hence  the  influence  of  those  writings  was  unbounded. 
They  spread  instantaneously  throughout  Germany,  and 
the  whole  world.  Everywhere  a  persuasion  existed, 
that  what  men  now  beheld  was  not  merely  the  rise  of 
a  new  sect,  but  a  new  birth  of  the  Church  and  of  so- 
ciety. Those  who  were  then  born  again  by  the  breath 
of  God's  Spirit,  rallied  round  him  who  had  been  instru- 
mental in  imparting  to  them  spiritual  life.  Christen- 
dom was  divided  into  two  opposing  parties ;  the  one 
contending  for  the  spirit  against  form  ;  and  the  other 
for  form  against  the  spirit.  On  the  side  of  form  there 
was,  it  is  true,  every  appearance  of  strength  and  mag- 
nificence ;  on  the  side  of  the  spirit  there  was  weakness 
and  littleness.  But  form,  void  of  the  spirit,  is  as  an 
empty  body  which  the  first  breath  may  overthrow.  Its 
resemblance  of  strength  serves  only  to  exasperate  the 
hostility  and  hasten  its  downfall.  Thus  the  simple 
word  of  truth  had  called  forth  a  whole  host  in  favour 
of  Luther. 

It  could  not  be  otherwise,  for  the  nobles  were  begin- 
ning to  bestir  themselves,  and  the  empire  and  the 
Church  were  already  uniting  their  forces  to  rid  them- 
selves of  the  troublesome  monk.  The  Emperor,  Max- 
imilian, was  then  holding  an  imperial  diet  at  Augsburg. 
Six  Electors  had  repaired  thither  in  person  at  his  sum- 
mons. All  the  Germanic  states  had  their  representa- 
tives in  this  assembly.  The  kings  of  France,  of  Hun- 
gary, and  of  Poland,  had  sent  ambassadors.  All  these 
princes  and  envoys  displayed  great  magnificence.  The 
war  against  the  Turks  was  one  of  the  causes  for  which 
the  diet  was  held.  The  Sultan,  Selim,  after  having 
poisoned  his  father,  and  put  his  brothers  and  their  chil- 
dren to  death,  had  carried  his  victorious  arms  into  Ar- 
menia, Egypt,  and  Syria.  Serious  apprehensions  were 
entertained  that  he  might  push  forward  his  armies  into 
Italy  and  Hungary.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before 
death  closed  his  career.  But  Leo  X.  did  not,  on  that 
account,  abandon  the  project  of  a  new  crusade.  His 
legate  earnestly  exhorted  the  Germanic  states  to  pre- 
pare for  war.  "  Let  the  clergy,"  said  he,  "  pay  a  tenth, 
the  laity  a  fiftieth,  part  of  their  property  ;  let  each  fa- 
mily furnish  the  pay  of  one  soldier  ;  let  the  rich  give 
annual  contributions,  and  all  will  go  well."  The  states, 
bearing  in  mind  the  bad  use  that  had  been  made  of  for- 
mer contributions,  and  influenced  by  the  prudent  advice 
of  the  Elector  Frederic,  contented  themselves  with 


answering  that  they  would  consider  the  matter,  and  at 
the  same  time  brought  forward  new  grievances  against 
Rome.  A  Latin  discourse,  published  while  the  Diet 
was  sitting,  boldly  pointed  out  to  the  German  princes 
the  real  danger.  "  You  wish,"  said  the  author,  "  to 
expel  the  Turk.  Your  intention  is  good,  but  I  fear 
you  are  mistaken  as  to  his  person.  You  must  look 
for  him  in  Italy,  and  not  in  Asia.  Each  of  our  princes 
has  power  sufficient  to  defend  his  country  against 
the  Turk  of  Asia  ;  but  as  to  the  Turk  of  Rome,  the 
whole  of  Christendom  is  not  sufficient  to  conquer  him. 
The  former  has  not  yet  done  us  any  harm,  the  latter 
walketh  about  everywhere  thirsting  for  the  blood  of 
the  poor."* 

Another  affair  no  less  important  was  to  engage  the 
attention  of  the  Diet.  Maximilian  wished  to  have  his 
grandson,  Charles,  who  was  already  King  of  Spain 
and  Naples,  proclaimed  King  of  the  Romans,  and  his 
successor  in  the  imperial  dignity.  The  pope  understood 
his  own  interest  too  well,  to  wish  to  see  the  throne  of 
the  empire  filled  by  a  prince  whose  power,  in  Italy, 
might  make  him  so  formidable  to  himself.  The  empe- 
ror imagined  that  he  had  gained  over  to  his  side  the  ma- 
jority of  the  electors  and  of  the  states  ;  but  he  met 
with  a  decided  opposition  from  Frederic.  It  was  in 
vain  that  he  solicited  him  ;  in  vain  did  the  ministers 
and  best  friends  of  the  elector  join  their  entreaties  to 
the  solicitations  of  the  emperor ;  the  prince  was  inex- 
orable, and  showed,  as  has  been  observed,  that  he  had 
firmness  of  mind  not  to  depart  from  a  resolution  of 
which  he  had  seen  the  propriety.  The  emperor's  de- 
sign failed. 

From  that  time  Maximilian  sought  to  insinuate  him- 
self into  the  good  graces  of  the  pope,  in  order  to  win 
his  assent  to  his  favourite  plan.  Wishing  to  give  him 
a  particular  proof  of  his  attachment,  he  wrote  to  him 
(on  the  5th  of  August,)  the  following  letter :  "  Most 
holy  Father,  we  were  informed,  some  days  since,  that 
a  brother  of  the  Augustine  order,  named  Martin  Luther, 
had  taken  himself  to  maintain  certain  propositions 
relative  to  the  sale  of  indulgences.  What  gives  us 
the  more  concern  is,  that  the  aforesaid  brother  meets 
with  many  protectors,  among  wham,  are  some  of  ex- 
alted rank.t  If  your  Holiness,  and  the  most  reverend 
Fathers  of  the  Church,  (the  Cardinals,)  do  not  promptly 
exert  your  authority  to  put  an  end  to  these  scandalous 
proceedings,  these  mischievous  teachers  will  not  only 
seduce  the  common  people,  but  will  involve  great  prin- 
ces in  their  destruction.  We  will  be  careful  to  enforce 
throughout  our  empire,  whatever  your  Holiness  shaM 
decree  on  this  subject,  to  the  glory  of  Almighty  God." 

This  letter  must  have  been  written  in  consequence 
of  some  rather  warm  discussion  that  Maximilian  had 
had  with  Frederic.  The  same  day  the  elector  wrote 
to  Raphael  de  Rovera.  He  was  doubtless  apprised 
that  the  emperor  was  addressing  the -Roman  Pontiff, 
and,  in  order  to  parry  the  blow,  he  himself  opened  a 
communication  with  Rome. 

"  It  will  ever  be  my  desire,"  said  he,  "  to  prove  my 
submission  to  the  universal  Church. 

•'  Therefore,  have  I  never  defended  the  writings  and 
discourses  of  Doctor  Martin  Luther.  I  hear,  however, 
that  he  has  uniformly  expressed  his  willingness  to  ap- 
pear, under  a  safe-conduct,  before  learned,  Christian, 
and  impartial  judges,  to  defend  his  doctrine,  and  to 
submit  to  their  decision,  if  they  should  be  able,  by  the 
Scriptures,  to  convince  him  of  error."t 

Leo  X.,  who,  until  this  hour,  had  allowed  the  mat- 
ter to  take  its  course,  roused  at  length  by  the  outcry 

*  Schroek,  K.  Gesch.  n.  d.  R.  I.  p.  156. 
t  Dei'ensores  et  patronos  etiam  potentes  quos  dictua  fraler 
consecutus  est.     (Raynald  ad  an.  1519.) 
t  L.  Opp.  lat.  xvii.  p.  169. 


CITATION  OF  LUTHER  TO  ROME— INTERCESSION  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY. 


of  theologians  and  monks,  now  appointed  an  ecclesi- 
astical court  in  Rome,  for  the  purpose  of  judging  Lu- 
ther, and  in  which  the  Reformer's  great  enemy,  Syl- 
vester Prierias,  was  at  once  accuser  and  judge.  The 
preliminaries  were  soon  arranged,  and  the  court  sum- 
moned Luther  to  appear  before  it,  in  person,  within 
sixty  days. 

Luther  was  at  Wittemberg,  quietly  awaiting  the  good 
effects  which  he  imagined  his  submissive  letter  to  the 
pope  was  calculated  to  produce,  when,  on  the  7th  of 
August,  two  days  only  after  the  letters  from  Frederic 
and  Maximilian  had  been  despatched  to  Rome,  he  re 
ceived  the  summons  from  the  papal  tribunal.  "  At 
the  moment  that  I  looked  for  benediction,"  said  he,  "  I 
saw  the  thunderbolt  descend  upon  me.  I  was  like  the 
lamb  that  troubled  the  stream  at  which  the  wolf  was 
drinking.  Tetzel  escaped,  and  I  was  devoured." 

This  summons  threw  all  Wittemberg  into  conster- 
nation ;  for,  whatever  course  Luther  might  take,  he 
could  not  escape  danger.  If  he  went  to  Rome,  he 
would  become  the  victim  of  his  enemies.  If  he  refused 
to  appear,  he  would,  as  usual,  be  condemned  for  con- 
tumacy, and  would  not  escape,  for  it  was  known  that 
the  legate  had  received  from  the  pope,  an  order  to  strain 
every  nerve  to  excite  the  emperor,  and  the  German 
princes,  against  Luther.  His  friends  were  alarmed. 
•Shall  the  preacher  of  the  truth  go  and  risk  his  life  "  in 
that  great  city,  drunk  with  the  blood  of  the  saints  and 
of  the  martyrs  of  Jesus'!"  Shall  every  man,  who  ven- 
tures to  lift  his  head  in  the  midst  of  the  enslaved  nations 
of  Christendom,  be,  on  that  account,  struck  down? 
Shall  this  man  be  trampled  under  foot,  who  seemed 
formed  to  resist  a  power  which  nothing  had  previously 
been  able  to  withstand  1  Luther  himself  could  see  no  one 
but  the  elector  able  to  save  him ;  but  he  preferred 
death  to  endangering  his  prince's  safety.  His  friends 
at  last  agreed  on  an  expedient  which  would  not  com- 
promise Frederic.  Let  him  refuse  Luther  a  safe-con- 
duct :  the  latter  would  then  have  a  fair  excuse  for  not 
appearing  at  Rome. 

On  the  8th  of  August,  Luther  wrote  to  Spalatin  to 
ask  him  to  use  his  influence  with  the  elector,  to  have 
his  cause  heard  in  Germany.  "  See,"  said  he,  writing 
to  Staupitz,  "  what  snares  they  lay  for  me,  and  how  I 
am  surrounded  by  thorns.  But  Christ  lives  and  reigns, 
the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever.  My  con- 
science tells  me  that  I  have  taught  the  truth,  though 
truth  appears  still  more  odious,  because  I  teach  it. 
The  Church  is  the  womb  of  Rebecca.  The  children 
must  struggle  together,  even  to  the  endangering  of  the 
mother's  life.*  As  to  the  rest,  pray  to  the  Lord  that 
I  may  not  take  too  much  joy  in  the  trial.  May  God 
not  lay  this  sin  to  their  charge  !" 

The  friends  of  Luther  did  not  confine  themselves  to 
consultations  and  complaints.  Spalatin  wrote,  on  the 
part  of  the  elector,  to  Renner,  the  emperor's  secretary : 
"  Doctor  Martin  will  willingly  submit  himself  to  the 
judgment  of  any  of  the  universities  of  Germany,  except 
Erfurth,  Leipzic,  and  Frankfort  on  the  Oder,  which 
have  forfeited  their  claim  to  be  regarded  as  impartial. 
It  is  out  of  his  power  to  appear  at  Rome  in  person. "f 

The  members  of  the  university  of  Wittemberg  ad- 
dressed an  intercessory  letter  to  the  pope  himself. 
"  His  weak  health,"  they  said,  speaking  of  Luther, 
"  and  the  dangers  of  the  journey,  make  it  difficult,  and 
even  impossible,  that  he  should  obey  the  order  of  your 
Holiness.  His  distress  and  his  entreaties  incline  us 
to  compassionate  him.  We  beseech  you  then,  most 
Holy  Father,  as  obedient  children,  to  look  upon  him 
in  the  light  of  one  who  has  never  been  tainted  by 

*  Uterus  Rebeccas  est :  parvulos  in  eo  collidi  necesse  cst, 
etiam  usque  ad  periculum  matris.  (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  138.) 

f  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  173. 


any  doctrines  opposed  to  the  tenets  of  the  Romish 
Church." 

The  university,  in  its  solicitude,  addressed  another 
letter,  the  same  day,  to  Charles  von  Miltitz,  a  Saxon 
gentleman,  who  was  chamberlain  to  the  pope,  and  was 
much  esteemed  by  him.  In  this  letter,  they  gave  a 
more  decided  testimony  in  favour  of  Luther,  than  they 
had  dared  to  do  in  the  former.  "  The  reverend  father, 
Martin  Luther,  the  Augustine,"  said  they,  "  is  the  no- 
blest and  most  distinguished  member  of  our  university. 
For  several  years,  we  have  been  witnesses  of  his 
talent,  his  learning,  his  intimate  acquaintance  with  arts 
and  literature,  his  irreproachable  morals,  and  his  truly 
Christian  deportment."* — This  strong  sympathy  of  those 
about  him  is  one  of  the  greatest  proofs  of  Luther's 
worth. 

Whilst  the  result  of  this  application  was  anxiously 
awaited,  it  was  settled  with  less  difficulty  than  might 
have  been  expected.  The  legate,  de  Vio,  mortified  at 
his  failure  in  the  commission  he  had  received,  to  ex- 
cite a  general  war  against  the  Turks,  wished  to  give 
importance  to  his  embassy  into  Germany,  by  some 
other  distinguished  service.  He  thought  that  if  he 
were  to  extirpate  heresy,  he  should  return  to  Rome 
with  honour.  He  therefore  petitioned  the  pope  to  put 
this  affair  into  his  hands.  Leo,  on  his  part,  was  well- 
disposed  toward  Frederick,  for  having  so  firmly  resisted 
the  election  of  Charles.  He  felt  that  he  might  again 
have  need  of  his  assistance.  Without  further  reference 
to  the  former  summons,  he  commissioned  his  legate, 
by  a  brief,  dated  the  23d  of  August,  to  investigate  the 
affair  in  Germany.  The  pope  conceded  nothing  by  con- 
senting to  this  mode  of  proceeding  ;  and,  in  case  Lu- 
ther should  be  prevailed  on  to  retract,  the  publicity 
and  scandal  that  must  have  attended  his  appearance 
at  Rome,  would  be  avoided. 

"  We  charge  you,"  said  the  pope,  "  to  compel  the 
aforesaid  Luther  to  appear  before  you,  in  person  ;  to 
prosecute,  and  reduce  him  to  submission,  without  de- 
lay— as  soon  as  you  shall  have  received  this,  our  or- 
der ;  he  having  already  been  declared  a  heretic,  by 
our  dear  brother,  Jerome,  Bishop  of  Asculan."t 

"  For  this  purpose,"  said  he,  "invoke  the  power  and 
assistance  of  our  very  dear  son  in  Christ,  Maximilian, 
and  the  other  princes  of  Germany,  and  of  all  the  com- 
munities, universities,  and  potentates,  whether  ecclesi- 
astical or  secular.  And  when  you  have  secured  his 
person,  cause  him  to  be  detained  in  safe  custody,  that 
he  may  be  brought  before  us."$ 

We  see  that  this  indulgent  concession  of  the  pope, 
was  little  else  than  an  expedient  for  dragging  Luther 
to  Rome.  Then  follows  the  milder  alternative. 

"  If  he  should  return  to  a  sense  of  his  duty,  and  ask 
pardon  for  so  great  an  offence,  freely,  and  of  his  own 
accord,  we  give  you  power  to  receive  him  into  the 
unity  of  holy  mother  church." 

The  pope  soon  returns  to  his  maledictions. 

"  If  he  should  persist  in  his  stubbornness,  and  you 
fail  to  get  possession  of  his  person,  we  give  you  power 
to  proscribe  him  in  all  places  in  Germany ;  to  put 
away,  curse,  and  excommunicate  all  those  who  are 
attached  to  him,  and  to  enjoin  all  Christians  to  shun 
their  society." 

Even  this  is  not  enough. 

"  And  to  the  end,"  he  continues,  "  that  this  pesti- 
ence  man  the  more  easily  be  rooted  out,  you  will  ex- 
communicate all  the  prelates,  religious  orders,  univer- 

*  L.  Opp.  (lat.)  i.  183,  184.    L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  171,  172. 

t  Dictum  Lutherum  haereticum  per  prsedictum  auditorem 
ani  declaratum.  (Breve  Leonis  ad  Thomam.) 

J  Brachio  cogas  atque  compellas,  et  eo  in  potestate  tua  re. 
dacto  eum  sub  fideli  custodia  retineas,  ut  coram  nobis  sistatur. 
'[Breve  Leonis  ad  Thomam.) 


96   THE  POPE'S  BRIEF— LUTHER'S  INDIGNATION— THE  POPE  TO  THE  ELECTOR. 


sities,  communities,  counts,  dukes,  and  potentates,  the 
Emperor  Maximilian  excepted,  who  shall  neglect  to 
seize  the  said  Martin  Luther,  and  his  adherents,  and 
send  them  to  you,  under  proper  and  safe  custody.  And 
if,  (which  God  forbid,)  the  aforesaid  princes,  commu- 
nities, universities,  and  potentates,  or  any  who  belong 
to  them,  shelter  the  said  Martin  Luther  and  his  adhe- 
rents, or  give  them,  publicly  or  secretly,  directly  or 
indirectly,  assistance  and  advice,  we  lay  an  interdict 
on  these  princes,  communities,  universities,  and  po- 
tentates, with  their  towns,  boroughs,  countries,  and 
villages,  as  well  as  on  the  towns,  boroughs,  countries, 
and  villages,  where  the  said  Martin  shall  take  refuge, 
as  long  as  he  shall  remain  there,  and  three  days  after 
he  shall  have  quitted  the  same." 

This  audacious  power,  which  affects  to  be  the  earthly 
representative  of  him  who  said :  "  God  sent  not  his 
Son  into  the  world,  to  condemn  the  world,  but  that 
the  world  through  him  might  be  saved,"  continues  its 
anathemas ;  and  after  having  pronounced  penalties 
against  ecclesiastics  offending,  thus  proceeds  : 

'*  As  to  the  laity,  if  they  do  not  obey  your  orders, 
without  any  delay  or  demur,  we  declare  them  repro- 
bate, (excepting,  always,  his  Imperial  Majesty,)  unable 
to  perform  any  lawful  act,  disentitled  to  Christian  bu- 
rial, and  deprived  of  all  fiefs  which  they  may  hold, 
either  from  the  apostolic  see,  or  from  any  lord  what- 
ever."* 

Such  was  the  treatment  that  awaited  Luther.  The 
Roman  despot  had  prepared  everything  to  crush  him. 
He  had  set  every  engine  at  work  ;  even  the  quiet  of 
the  grave  must  be  invaded.  His  ruin  seemed  inevit- 
able. How  could  he  escape  this  powerful  combination  1 
But  Rome  had  miscalculated  ;  the  movement  excited 
by  the  spirit  of  God,  could  not  be  quelled  by  the  de- 
crees of  its  chancery. 

Even  the  semblance  of  a  just  and  impartial  inquiry 
had  been  disregarded  ;  and  Luther  had  already  been 
declared  an  heretic  :  not  only  before  he  had  been 
heard,  but  even  long  before  the  expiration  of  the  time 
allowed  for  his  personally  appearing.  The  passions 
(and  never  are  they  more  strongly  excited  than  in  re- 
ligious discussion,)  break  through  all  forms  of  justice. 
Not  only  in  the  Roman  church,  but  in  those  Protest- 
ant churches  which  have  departed  from  the  Gospel, 
and  in  every  place  where  truth  has  been  forsaken,  do 
we  find  it  treated  in  this  way.  All  means  seem  good 
against  the  Gospel.  We  frequently  see  men,  who, 
in  any  other  case,  would  shrink  from  committing  the 
least  injustice,  not  hesitating  to  trample  under  foot  all 
rule  and  equity,  when  Christianity  or  her  witnesses 
are  concerned. 

When  Luther,  eventually,  came  to  the  knowledge  of 
this  brief,  he  gave  free  expression  to  his  indignation. 
"  The  most  remarkable  part  of  the  transaction  is  this," 
said  he  ;  "  the  brief  was  issued  the  23d  of  August ;  I 
was  summoned  the  7th  of  August :  so  that,  between 
the  summons  and  the  brief,  sixteen  days  had  elapsed. 
Now,  make  the  calculation,  and  you  will  find,  that  my 
Lord  Jerome,  Bishop  of  Asculan,  proceeded  against 
me,  pronounced  judgment,  condemned  me,  and  de- 
clared me  a  heretic,  before  the  summons  reached  me, 
or,  at  most,  sixteen  days  after  it  had  been  forwarded 
to  me.  Now,  I  ask,  what  becomes  of  the  sixty  days, 
that  are  granted  me  in  the  summons  itself  1  They  be- 
gan the  7th  of  August,  they  would  expire  the  7th  of 
October.  ...  Is  this  the  style  and  manner  of  the  Ro- 
man court — that,  in  the  same  day,  she  summons,  ex- 
horts, accuses,  judges,  condemns,  and  declares  guilty ; 
and  this,  too,  in  the  case  of  one  who  is  at  such  a  dis- 

*  Infamise  et  inhabilitatis  ad  omnes  actus  legitimos,  ecclesi- 
asticae  sepulture,  privationis  quoque  feudorum.  (Breve  Le- 
onis  ad  Thomam.) 


tance  from  Rome,  and  who  can  have  no  knowledge  of 
what  is  going  on  1  What  answer  can  they  make  to 
all  thisl  They  certainly  forgot  to  clear  their  brains 
with  hellebore,  before  they  had  recourse  to  such  clumsy 
artifice."* 

But  at  the  same  time  that  Rome  was  arming  the 
legate  with  her  thunders,  she  was  endeavouring,  by 
soft  and  flattering  speeches,  to  detach  from  Luther's 
interest,  the  prince  whose  power  she  most  dreaded. 
The  same  day,  (the  23d  of  August,  1518,)  the  pope 
wrote  to  the  Elector  of  Saxony.  He  had  recourse  to 
the  same  practised  policy  which  we  have  before  no- 
ticed, and  sought  to  flatter  the  prince's  vanity. 

"  Dear  Son,"  said  the  Roman  pontiff,  "  when  we 
think  of  your  noble  and  worthy  family ;  of  you,  who 
are  its  ornament  and  head ;  when  we  remember  how 
you  and  your  ancestors  have  always  wished  to  uphold 
the  Christian  faith,  and  the  honour  and  dignity  of  the 
Holy  See,  we  cannot  believe  that  a  man  who  aban- 
dons the  faith  can  rely  on  your  Highness's  favour,  and 
recklessly  give  the  rein  to  his  wickedness.  And  yet, 
reports  have  reached  us,  from  all  quarters,  that  a  certain 
brother,  Martin  Luther,  a  monk  of  the  order  of  St. 
Augustine,  acting  the  part  of  a  child  of  iniquity,  and  a 
despiser  of  God,  has  forgotten  his  habit  and  his  order, 
which  require  humility  and  obedience,  and  boasts  that 
he  fears  neither  the  authority  nor  the  chastisement  of 
any  man,  assured,  as  he  declares  himself,  of  your  fa- 
vour and  protection. 

"  But,  as  we  are  sure  that  he  is,  in  this,  deceiving 
himself,  we  have  thought  it  good  to  write  to  your 
Highness,  and  to  exhort  you,  according  to  the  will  of 
God,  to  be  jealous  of  your  honour  as  a  Christian  prince, 
the  ornament,  the  glory,  and  the  sweet  savour  of  your 
noble  family — to  defend  yourself  from  these  calumnies 
— and  to  clear  yourself,  not  only  from  the  commission 
of  so  great  a  crime  as  that  which  is  imputed  to  you, 
but  also  from  the  very  suspicion,  which  the  rash  pre- 
sumption of  this  monk  tends  to  bring  upon  you." 

Leo,  at  the  same  time,  intimated  to  Frederic,  that 
he  had  commissioned  the  Cardinal  of  St.  Sixtus  to 
examine  into  the  affair,  and  he  desired  him  to  deliver 
up  Luther  into  the  hands  of  the  legate,  "  lest,"  added 
he,  recurring  to  his  favourite  argument,  "pious  people, 
of  this  or  after  times,  should  one  day  lament  and  say  : 
'  The  most  dangerous  heresy  that  ever  afflicted  the 
Church  of  God,  arose  through  the  assistance,  and  under 
the  protection,  of  that  noble  and  worthy  family."! 

Thus  Rome  had  taken  her  measures.  To  one  party 
she  offered  the  intoxicating  incense  of  flattery  ;  for  the 
other  she  reserved  her  vengeance  and  her  terrors. 

All  earthly  powers — emperor,  pope,  princes,  and  le- 
gates— were  put  in  motion  against  the  humble  friar  of 
Erfurth,  whose  inward  conflicts  we  have  already 
traced.  "  The  kings  of  the  earth  stood  up,  and  the 
rulers  took  counsel  against  the  Lord,  and  against  his 
anointed." 

Before  this  letter  and  brief  had  yet  reached  Ger- 
many, and  while  Luther  was  still  fearing  that  he  should 
be  obliged  to  appear  at  Rome,  a  fortunate  circumstance 
occurred  to  comfort  his  heart.  He  needed  a  friend,  into 
whose  bosom  he  could  pour  out  his  sorrows,  and  whose 
faithful  love  should  comfort  him  in  his  hours  of  dejec- 
tion. God  sent  him  such  a  friend  in  Melancthon. 

George  Schwarzerd  was  a  skilful  master  armourer 
of  Bretten,  a  small  town  in  the  Palatinate.  On  the 
14th  of  February,  1497,  a  son  was  born  to  him,  whom 
he  named  Philip,  and  who,  afterward,  became  cele- 
brated under  the  name  of  Melancthon.  George,  who 
enjoyed  the  esteem  of  the  princes  of  the  Palatinate  of 
Bavaria  and  of  Saxony,  was  remarkable  for  the  per- 
fect uprightness  of  his  dealings.  Often  did  he  refuse 
•  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  176.  f  L-  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  173. 


GEORGE  SCHWARZERD— MELANCTHON. 


97 


to  take  from  purchasers  the  price  they  offered  ;  and, 
if  he  knew  that  they  were  poor,  he  obliged  them  to 
take  back  their  money.  He  regularly  rose  at  midnight, 
and  offered  a  prayer  upon  his  knees.  If  he  ever  hap- 
pened to  omit  this  service,  he  was  dissatisfied  with 
himself  all  day.  Schwarzerd's  wife,  whose  name  was 
Barbara,  was  the  daughter  of  a  respectable  magistrate, 
John  Reuter.  She  was  of  an  affectionate  disposition, 
somewhat  inclined  to  superstition,  but  very  discreet 
and  prudent.  Some  old  and  well-known  German 
rhymes  are  ascribed  to  her  pen.  We  give  their  sense 
as  well  as  we  are  able  : 

Gifts  to  the  poor  impoverish  none, 
To  church  to  pray  will  hinder  none, 
To  grease  the  wheel  delay  eth  none, 
Ill-gotten  wealth  enricheth  none, 
God's  holy  book  deludeth  none. 

Also  the  following : 

He  who  is  a  freer  spender 

Than  his  plough  or  toil  can  render, 

Sure  of  ruin,  slow  or  fast, 

May,  perhaps,  be  hanged  at  last.* 

Philip  was  not  eleven  years  old  when  his  father  died. 
Two  days  before  his  death,  George  summoned  his  son 
to  his  bed-side,  and  exhorted  him  to  "  set  the  Lord 
always  before  him."  "  I  foresee,"  said  the  dying  man, 
"  that  stormy  times  are  at  hand.  I  have  witnessed 
great  things  ;  but  there  are  greater  still  in  preparation. 
God  preserve,  and  guide  you,  my  son !"  After  re- 
ceiving his  father's  blessing,  Philip  was  sent  to  Spire, 
that  he  might  not  be  present  at  his  father's  death.  He 
wept  bitterly  on  taking  his  departure. 

Reuter,  the  worthy  bailiff,  Philip's  grandfather,  who 
had  a  young  son  of  his  own,  performed  a  father's  part 
towards  the  orphan.  He  took  both  Philip  and  his 
brother  George  into  his  own  house,  and  shortly  after, 
engaged  John  Hungarus  as  tutor  to  the  three  boys. 
Hungarus  was  an  excellent  man,  and  afterward  preach- 
ed the  Gospel  with  great  effect,  continuing  his  labours 
to  an  advanced  age.  He  never  overlooked  any  fault 
iu  the  young  man,  but  punished  it  with  discretion  : 
"  It  was  thus,"  said  Melancthon,  in  1554,  "  that  he 
made  me  a  grammarian.  He  loved  me  as  if  I  had  been 
his  son  ;  I  loved  him  as  a  father  ;  and  I  trust  that  we 
shall  meet  in  heaven. "t 

Philip  was  remarkable  for  the  excellence  of  his  un- 
derstanding, his  quickness  in  acquiring,  and  his  talent 
for  communicating,  knowledge.  He  could  never  be 
idle,  but  was  always  seeking  for  some  one  with  whom 
he  might  discuss  the  things  he  had  heard.:}:  It  often 
happened,  that  learned  foreigners  passed  through  Bret- 
ten,  and  visited  Reuter.  On  such  occasions,  the  bai- 
liff's grandson  immediately  accosted  them,  engaged 
them  in  conversation,  and  pressed  them  so  closely  on 
the  subjects  discussed,  that  by-standers  were  astonish- 
ed. 

To  a  powerful  genius  he  united  great  sweetness  of 
disposition,  and  thus  gained  the  favour  of  all  who  knew 
him.  He  had  an  impediment  in  his  speech ;  but,  fol- 
lowing the  example  of  the  illustrious  Grecian  orator, 
he  laboured  with  so  much  perseverence  to  overcome 
this  defect,  that  in  after  life  no  traces  of  it  were  per- 
ceptible. 

On  the  death  of  his  grandfather,  young  Philip  was 
sent,  with  his  brother  and  his  uncle  John,  to  the 
school  of  Pforzheim.  The  young  boys  lodged  with 
one  of  their  female  relations,  who  was  sister  to  the  cele- 
brated Reuchlin.  Thirsting  for  knowledge,  Philip, 

•  Almosen  geben  armt  nicht,  &c.  Wer  mehr  will  verzeh- 
ren.etc.  (Muller's  Relinquien.) 

t  Dilexit  me  ut  filium,  et  ego  eum  ut  patrem  ;  et  convenie- 
mus,  spero,  in  vita  aeterna.  (Melancth.  Expl.  Evang.) 

\  Quiescere  non  poterat,  sed  quaerebat  ubique  aliquem  cum 
quo  de  auditis  disputaret.  (Camerarius,  Vita  Melancth.  p.  7.) 


under  the  tuition  of  George  Simler,  made  rapid  pro- 
gress in  learning,  and  especially  in  the  Greek  language, 
to  which  he  was  passionately  devoted.  Reuchlin  often 
visited  Pforzheim.  At  his  sister's  house  he  became 
acquainted  with  her  young  inmates,  and  was  very  much 
struck  with  Philip's  answers.  He  presented  him  with 
a  Greek  grammar  and  a  Bible.  These  two  books  were 
destined  to  be  the  study  of  his  whole  life. 

When  Reuchlin  returned  from  his  second  journey 
into  Italy,  his  young  relation,  who  was  then  twelve 
years  old,  celebrated  the  day  of  his  arrival  by  acting  in 
his  presence  with  some  friend,  a  Latin  comedy  of  his 
own  composing.  Reuchlin,  delighted  with  the  young 
man's  talent,  tenderly  embraced  him,  called  him  his 
beloved  son,  and,  smiling,  placed  upon  his  head  the 
red  hat  he  had  received  when  he  was  made  doctor.  It 
was  at  this  time  that  Reuchlin  changed  his  name  of 
Schwarzered  for  that  of  Melancthon.  Both  words 
signify  black  earth,  the  one  in  the  German,  the  other 
in  Greek.  Most  of  the  learned  men  of  those  times 
translated  their  names  into  Greek  or  Latin. 

At  twelve  years  of  age  Melancthon  went  to  the  uni- 
versity of  Heidelberg.  It  was  there  he  began  to  slake 
his  thirst  for  knowledge.  At  fourteen  he  was  made 
bachelor.  In  1512  Reuchlin  invited  him  to  Tubingen, 
where  many  eminent  scholars  were  assembled.  He 
attended  the  lectures  of  the  theologians,  the  physicians, 
and  the  jurisconsults.  There  was  no  kind  of  know- 
ledge that  he  deemed  unworthy  of  pursuit.  He  sought 
not  for  fame,  but  for  the  possession  and  advantage  of 
learning. 

Holy  Scripture  especially  engaged  his  attention. 
Those  who  frequented  the  church  of  Tubingen  had  re- 
marked, that  he  had  frequently  a  book  in  his  hand, 
which  he  had  read  between  the  services.  The  myste- 
rious volume  seemed  larger  than  the  ordinary  mass 
books  :  and  a  report  was  circulated  that  Philip,  on  such 
occasions,  read  some  profane  author.  But  it  turned 
out  that  the  suspected  book  was  a  copy  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  recently  printed  at  Bale,  by  John  Frobenius. 
He  continued  to  use  this  book  all  his  life,  with  the  most 
diligent  attention.  He  always  carried  about  him  this 
precious  volume,  taking  it  with  him  to  the  various  pub- 
lic assemblies  which  he  was  called  on  to  attend.* 
Rejecting  the  vain  systems  of  the  schoolmen,  he  ad- 
hered to  the  plain  word  of  God.  Erasmus,  writing  at 
that  time  CEcolampadius,  thus  expresses  himself:  "I 
have  the  highest  opinion  and  the  most  brilliant  expec- 
tations of  Melancthon.  May  our  Lord  so  order  events, 
that  he  may  long  survive  us  !  He  will  altogether 
eclipse  Erasmus."t 

Nevertheless,  Melancthon  then  partook  of  the  errors 
of  his  time,  "  I  shudder,"  said  he,  at  an  advanced  pe- 
riod of  his  life,  "  when  I  think  of  the  superstitious  re- 
spect I  paid  to  images  while  I  was  yet  a  papist. "t 

In  1514,  he  was  made  Doctor  of  Philosophy,  and 
began  to  lecture  publicly.  He  was  then  seventeen. 
The  grace  and  charm  which  he  communicated  to  his 
instructions  formed  a  striking  contrast  to  the  tasteless 
method  then  followed  by  the  doctors,  and  especially 
by  the  monks.  He  took  an  active  part  in  the  contest 
in  which  Reuchlin  was  engaged  with  the  ignoramuses 
of  his  time.  Agreeable  in  conversation,  gentle  and 
graceful  in  manners,  and  beloved  by  all  who  knew  him, 
he  soon  acquired  great  authority,  and  established  repu- 
tation among  the  learned. 

It  was  at  this  time,  that  the  Elector  Frederic  formed 
the  design  of  inviting  some  man  of  distinguished  learn- 
ing to  become  professor  of  the  ancient  languages  in  his 

*  Camerar.  Vita  Philip.  Melancthoms,  p.  16. 
t  Erasmi  Epist.  i.  p.  405. 

j  Horresco  quando  cogito  quomodo  ipse  accesserim  ad  sta- 
tuas  in  papatu.  (Explicat.  Evang.) 


98 


MELANCTHON— LUTHER  AND  MELANCTHON. 


university  in  Wittemberg.  He  applied  to  Reuchlin, 
who  recommended  Melancthon.  Frederic  foresaw  the 
celebrity  that  the  young  Grecian  would  confer  on  an 
institution  so  dear  to  him — and  Reuchlin,  overjoyed  at 
so  favourable  an  opening  for  his  young  friend,  wrote 
to  him  in  the  words  o.f  the  Lord  to  Abraham :  "  Get 
thee  out  from  thy  country,  and  from  thy  kindred,  and 
from  thy  father's  house,  and  I  will  make  thy  name 
great,  and  thou  shall  be  a  blessing."  "  Yes,"  continued 
the  old  man,  "  I  trust  it  will  be  thus  with  thee,  my 
dear  Philip,  my  disciple,  and  my  joy."*  Melancthon 
acknowledged  the  voice  of  God  in  this  summons.  All 
the  university  grieved  at  his  departure  :  yet  were  there 
some  who  envied  and  hated  him.  He  bade  farewell 
to  his  native  place,  exclaiming,  "  The  will  of  the  Lord 
be  done  !"  He  was  then  one-and-twenty. 

Melancthon  performed  the  journey  on  horseback,  in 
company  with  some  Saxon  merchants,  as  in  the  desert 
the  traveller  joins  a  caravan  :  for,  as  Reuchlin  says, 
"  he  knew  neither  the  roads  nor  the  towns  they  had  to 
pass  through."!  At  Augsburg  he  waited  on  the  elector, 
who  was  stopping  there.  At  Nuremberg  he  made 
acquaintance  with  the  excellent  Pirckheimer,  and  at 
Leipzic  with  the  learned  Grecian,  Mosellanus.  The 
university  of  this  latter  city  gave  a  feast  in  his  honour. 
The  repast  was  truly  academical.  A  variety  of  dishes 
were  introduced  in  succession,  and  as  each  was  put 
upon  the  table,  one  of  the  professors  arose  and  addressed 
a  studied  Latin  speech  to  Melancthon.  The  latter 
answered  impromptu.  At  last,  tired  of  so  much  elo- 
quence, he  said :  "  My  learned  friends,  suffer  me  to 
answer  once  for  all  to  your  orations  ;  for  being  entirely 
unprepared,  I  am  unable  to  infuse  into  my  replies  so 
much  variety  as  you  have  introduced  in  your  addresses." 
After  this  the  dishes  were  brought  in  without  the  ac- 
companying orations.J 

Melancthon  arrived  at  Wittemberg  on  the  25th  of 
August,  1518,  two  days  after  Leo  X.  had  signed  the 
brief  addressed  to  Cajetan,  and  the  letter  to  the  elec- 
tor. 

The  professors  of  Wittemberg  did  not  receive  Me- 
lancthon so  graciously  as  those  of  Leipzic  had  done. 
Their  first  impression  of  him  did  not  answer  the  ex- 
pectation they  had  formed.  They  beheld  a  young  man, 
who  looked  even  younger  than  he  really  was,  of  small 
stature,  and  of  a  shy  and  timid  demeanour.  Is  this 
the  famons  Doctor,  thought  they,  that  the  great  men 
of  our  day,  such  as  Erasmus  and  Reuchlin,  so  highly 
extol  1  ....  Neither  Luther,  to  whom  he  first  intro- 
duced himself,  nor  Luther's  colleagues,  conceived  any 
freat  hopes  of  him,  when  they  remarked  his  youth,  his 
iffidence,  and  his  retiring  manners. 

On  the  29th  of  August,  being  four  days  after  his 
arrival,  he  delivered  his  inaugural  discourse.  The 
whole  university  was  convened  on  the  occasion.  The 
lad,$  as  Luther  calls  him,  spoke  such  elegant  Latin, 
and  manifested  so  much  learning,  so  cultivated  an  un- 
derstanding, and  such  sound  judgment,  that  all  his  audi- 
tors were  astonished. 

When  he  had  concluded  his  speech,  all  crowded 
around  him  to  offer  their  congratulations  ;  but  no  one 
felt  more  delighted  than  Luther.  He  hastened  to  com- 
municate to  his  friends  the  sentiments  of  his  heart. 
"Melancthon,"  said  he,  writing  to  Spalatin  on  the  31st 
of  August,  "  delivered,  only  four  days  after  his  arrival, 
so  beautiful  and  learned  an  oration,  that  it  was  heard 
by  all  with  approbation  and  astonishment.  We  soon 
got  over  the  prejudices  we  had  conceived  from  his  per- 

*  Meum  opus  et  meum  solatium.     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  33.) 
t  Das  Wegs  und  der  Orte  unbekannt.    (Ibid.  30.) 

*  Gamer.  Vita  Mel.  26. 

4  Pucr  et  adolescentulus,  si  setatem  consideres.  (L.  Epp. 
i.  141.) 


sonal  appearance  ;  we  now  extol  and  admire  his  elo- 
quence. We  thank  the  prince  and  yourself  for  the 
service  you  have  done  us.  I  can  wish  for  no  better 
Greek  master.  But  I  fear  that  our  poor  fare  will  not 
suit  his  delicate  frame,  and  that  we  shall  not  keep  him 
long  with  us  on  account  of  the  smallness  of  his  al- 
lowance. I  hear  that  the  people  of  Leipzic  are  already 
bragging  that  they  will  be  able  to  carry  him  off  from 
us.  Beware,  my  dear  Spalatin,  of  despising  this  youth. 
The  young  man  is  worthy  of  the  highest  honour."* 

Melancthon  began  at  once  to  expound  Homer,  and 
St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  Titus.  He  was  full  of  ardour. 
"I  will  use  every  endeavour,"  he  wrote  to  Spalatin, 
"  to  win  the  favour  of  those  at  Wittemberg,  who  love 
learning  and  virtue."  Four  days  after  his  inaugura- 
tion, Luther  again  wrote  to  Spalatin  ; 

"  I  commend  to  your  special  regard  that  most  learned 
and  very  amiable  Grecian,  Philip.  His  lecture  room 
is  always  crowded.  All  the  theologians,  especially, 
attend  his  lectures.  He  puts  them  all,  whether  they 
be  in  the  upper,  the  lower,  or  the  middle  classes,  upon 
learning  Greek."t 

Melancthon,  on  his  part,  felt  he  could  return  Luther's 
affection.  He  soon  discerned  in  him  a  kindness  of 
disposition,  a  strength  of  mind,  a  courage,  and  a  wis- 
dom, which  till  then  he  had  never  found  in  any  man. 
He  revered  and  loved  him.  "  If  there  be  any  one," 
said  he,  "  that  I  love  and  embrace  with  my  whole  heart, 
t  is  Martin  Luther."t 

With  such  feelings  did  Luther  and  Melancthon  meet ; 
and  their  friendship  continued  till  death.  We  cannot 
sufficiently  admire  the  goodness  and  wisdom  of  God, 
n  bringing  together  two  men  so  different,  and  yet  so 
necessary  to  each  other.  Melancthon  was  as  remark- 
able for  calmness,  prudence,  and  gentleness,  as  Luther 
was  for  wisdom,  impetuosity,  and  energy.  Luther 
communicated  vigour  to  Melancthon  : — Melancthon 
moderated  Luther.  They  were  like  positive  and  nega- 
tive agents  in  electricity,  by  whose  reciprocal  action  an 
quilibrium  is  maintained.  If  Melancthon  had  not 
3een  at  Luther's  side,  the  torrent  might  have  over- 
lowed  its  banks  :  — when  Luther  was  not  by,  Melanc- 
thon faltered,  and  gave  way  even  where  he  ought  not.§ 
— Luther  did  much  by  power: — Melancthon  did  no 
ess,  perhaps,  by  following  a  slower  and  gentler  me- 
.hod.  Both  were  upright,  open-hearted,  and  generous  ; 
)0th,  full  of  love  for  the  word  of  eternal  life,  proclaimed 
t  with  a  fidelity  and  devotion  which  governed  their 
whole  lives. 

Melancthon's  appearance  wrought  a  revolution,  not 
merely  in  Wittemberg,  but  throughout  Germany  and  the 
earned  world.  The  study  he  had  applied  to  the  Greek 
and  Latin  classics,  and  to  philosophy,  had  given  an  or- 
der, clearness,  and  precision  to  his  ideas,  which  diffused 
n  the  subjects  he  handled  a  new  light  and  an  indescri- 
)able  beauty.  The  sweet  spirit  of  the  Gospel  fertilized 
and  animated  all  his  reflections  ;  and,  in  his  lectures, 
he  driest  sciences  appeared  clothed  with  a  grace  that 
charmed  all  hearers.  The  sterility  that  the  scholastic 
philosophy  had  spread  over  instruction  was  gone,  a  new 
nethod  of  teaching  and  of  study  was  introduced  by  Me- 
ancthon.  "  Thanks  to  him,"  says  a  distinguished  his- 
;orian  of  Germany,!!  "  Wittemberg  became  the  school 
of  the  nation." 

*  L.  Epp.  i.  135. 

f  Summos  cum  mediis  et  infimis  studiosos  facit  graecitatis. 
(L.  Epp.  i.  140.) 

J  Martmum.siomninoin  rebus  liumams  quidquam,  vehe- 
mentiasime  diligo,  et  animo  integerrimo  complector.  (Mel. 
Epp.  i.  411.) 

§  Calvin,  writing  to  Sleidan,  observes  :  "  Dominus  eum 
fortiore  spiritu  instruat,  ne  gravem  ex  ejus  tiroiditate  jacturam 

ntiat  posteritas." 

|[  Plank. 


LUTHER  AND  MELANCTHON— STAUPITZ  TO  SPALATIN. 


99 


The  impulse  that  Melancthon  gave  to  Luther,  in  his 
work  of  translating  the  Bible,  is  one  of  the  most  memo- 
rable circumstances  of  the  friendship  between  these 
great  men.  As  early  as  1517,  Luther  had  made  some 
attempts  toward  that  translation.  He  got  together  as 
many  Greek  and  Latin  books  as  he  could  collect. 
With  the  aid  of  his  dear  Philip,  his  labour  now  pro- 
ceeded with  fresh  energy.  Luther  obliged  Melancthon 
to  take  part  in  his  researches ;  consulted  him  in  difficult 
passages  ;  and  the  work,  which  was  destined  to  be  one 
of  the  grandest  works  of  the  Reformer,  advanced  more 
securely  and  rapidly  to  its  completion. 

Doubtless,  the  arrival  of  Melancthon  at  so  critical  a 
moment,  brought  with  it  a  sweet  relaxation  to  the 
mind  of  Luther.  Doubtless,  in  the  delightful  expan- 
sion of  a  new  friendship,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  Bi- 
blical studies,  to  which  he  applied  himself  with  fresh 
zeal,  he  sometimes  altogether  forgot  Rome,  Prierias, 
Leo,  and  that  ecclesiastical  court,  before  which  he  was 
to  appear.  Yet  these  were  brief  moments  that  soon 
passed  away.  His  thoughts  were  ever  reverting  to  the 
awful  tribunal  before  which  he  was  cited  by  the  influence 
of  his  implacable  enemies.  With  what  terror  would 
not  the  thought  have  filled  a  soul  desiring  aught  but 
the  triumph  of  truth  !  But  Luther  did  not  tremble  in 
the  prospect  of  it :  full  of  trust  in  the  faithfulness  and 
power  of  God  he  remained  firm  :  and  was  ready  to 
expose  himself  alone  to  the  wrath  of  enemies  more 
terrible  than  those  who  had  brought  Huss  to  the  stake. 

A  few  days  after  the  arrival  of  Melancthon,  and  be- 
fore the  decision  of  the  Pope,  which  removed  the  cita- 
tion of  Luther  from  Rome  to  Augsburg,  could  be 
known,  Luther  wrote  thus  to  Spalatin : — "I  do  not 
ask  our  sovereign  to  do  the  least  thing  in  defence  of 
my  theses — I  am  willing  to  be  delivered  up,  and  cast 
alone  into  the  hands  of  all  my  adversaries.  Let  him 
suffer  the  storm  to  exhaust  all  its  rage  on  me.  What 
I  have  undertaken  to  defend,  I  hope  I  shall,  by  Christ's 
help,  be  enabled  to  maintain.  As  to  force,  we  must 
needs  yield  to  that,  but  without  forsaking  the  truth."* 

Luther's  courage  communicated  itself  to  others. 
The  gentlest  and  most  timid,  beholding  the  danger  that 
threatened  the  witness  of  the  truth,  found  language 
full  of  energy  and  indignation.  The  prudent  and  pa- 
cific Staupitz  wrote  to  Spalatin  on  the  7th  September  : 
"  Do  not  cease  to  exhort  the  Prince,  our  master,  not  to 
be  dismayed  by  the  roaring  of  the  lions. 

"  Let  the  Prince  make  a  stand  for  the  truth,  without 
regarding  Luther,  or  Staupitz,  or  the  order.  Let  there 
be  at  least  one  place  where  we  may  speak  freely  and 
fearlessly.  I  know  that  the  plague  of  Babylon  (I  had 
almost  said,  of  Rome,)  is  let  loose  against  all  who  attack 
the  corruptions  of  those  who  betray  Christ  for  gain. 
I,  myself,  have  seen  a  preacher  of  the  truth  pulled  out 
of  his  pulpit,  and,  though  on  a  saint's  day,  bound  and 
dragged  to  prison.  Others  have  witnessed  still  grea- 
ter atrocities.  Therefore,  my  dearly  beloved,  per- 
suade his  Higness  to  continue  in  his  present  senti- 
rnents."t 

The  order  for  his  appearance  at  Augsburg,  before 
the  cardinal  legate,  at  length  arrived.  It  was  now 
with  one  of  the  princes  of  the  Roman  Church  that 
Luther  had  to  do.  All  his  friends  besought  him  not 
to  set  out.t  They  feared  that  a  snare  might  be  laid 
for  him  on  his  journey,  or  a  design  formed  against  his 
life.  Some  set  about  finding  a  place  of  concealment 
for  him.  Staupitz  himself,  the  timid  Staupitz,  was 
moved  at  the  thought  of  the  danger  which  threatened 
that  brother,  Martin,  whom  he  had  drawn  forth  from  the 
obscurity  of  the  cloister,  and  launched  upon  the  agita- 
ted sea  where  his  life  was  now  in  peril.  Ah  !  would 

*  L.  Epp.  i.  p.  139.  f  Jen.  Aug.  i  p.  384.  ' 

J  (Contra  omnium  amicorum  consilium  comparui.) 


it  not  have  been  better  for  that  poor  brother  to  have 
remained  all  his  life  unknown  1  It  is  too  late  now. 
Yet  he  will  do  all  in  his  power  to  save  him.  Accord- 
ingly he  wrote  to  him  from  his  convent  at  Salzburg, 
on  the  15th  September,  imploring  him  to  flee  and  take 
refuge  with  him.  "  It  seems  to  me,"  said  he,  "  that 
the  whole  world  is  up  in  arms,  and  combined  against 
the  truth.  Even  so  was  the  crucified  Jesus  hated  !  I 
see  not  that  you  have  anything  else  to  expect  than 
persecution.  Ere  long,  no  one,  without  the  Pope's 
permission,  will  be  allowed  to  search  the  Scriptures, 
arid  to  learn  Christ  from  them,  which  yet  is  Christ's 
injunction.  Your  friends  are  few  in  number.  God 
grant  to  those  few  friends  courage  to  declare  them- 
selves in  opposition  to  your  formidable  enemies  !  Your 
most  prudent  course  is  to  leave  Witternberg  for  a  time, 
and  come  and  reside  with  me.  Then — let  us  live  and 
die  together.  This  is  also  the  Prince's  opinion,"  adds 
Staupitz.* 

From  different  quarters  Luther  received  alarming 
information.  Count  Albert,  of  Mansfeldt,  sent  him  a 
message  to  abstain  from  setting  out,  because  some 
great  nobles  had  bound  themselves  by  an  oath,  to  seize 
and  strangle,  or  drown  him.f  But  nothing  could 
shake  his  resolution.  He  would  not  listen  to  the  Vicar 
general's  offer. — He  will  not  go  and  hide  in  the  con- 
vent of  Salzburg — he  will  continue  faithfully  on  that 
stormy  stage  where  the  hand  of  God  has  placed  him. 
It  is  by  perseverance,  in  the  midst  of  opposers,  by  loudly 
proclaiming  the  truth  in  the  midst  of  the  world,  that 
the  kingdom  of  the  truth  is  advanced.  Why  then 
should  he  flee  1  He  is  not  of  those  who  draw  back 
unto  perdition,  but  of  those  who  believe  to  the  saving 
of  their  souls.  That  word  of  the  Master,  whom  he 
is  resolved  to  serve  and  love  continually,  resounds  in 
his  heart :  "Whosoever  shall  confess  me  before  men, 
him  will  I  confess  before  my  Father  which  is  in  hea- 
ven." Everywhere,  in  the  history  of  Luther,  and  of 
the  Reformation,  do  we  find  ourselves  in  presence  of 
that  interpid  spirit,  that  elevated  morality,  that  bound- 
less charity,  which  the  first  establishment  of  Christi- 
anity had  exhibited  to  the  world.  "  I  am  like  Jeremiah,'* 
said  Luther,  at  the  moment  we  are  speaking  of — "  '  a 
man  of  strife  and  contention ;'  but  the  more  they  in- 
crease their  threatenings,  the  more  they  multiply  my 
joy.  My  wife  and  children  are  well  provided  for.  My 
lands  and  houses,  and  all  my  goods,  are  safe.}  They 
have  already  torn  to  pieces  my  honour  and  my  good 
name.  All  I  have  left  is  my  wretched  body — let  them 
have  it — they  will  then  shorten  my  life  by  a  few  hours. 
But  as  to  my  soul — they  shall  not  have  that.  He, 
who  resolves  to  bear  the  word  of  Christ  to  the  world, 
must  expect  death  at  every  hour — for  our  spouse  is  a 
bloody  husband  unto  us."$ 

The  Elector  was  then  at  Augsburg.  Shortly  before 
he  left  that  city  and  the  Diet,  he  pledged  himself  to 
the  Legate,  that  Luther  should  appear  before  him. 
Spalatin  wrote  to  his  friend,  by  direction  of  the  Prince, 
that  the  Pope  had  named  a  commission  to  hear  him  in 
Germany  ;  that  the  Elector  would  not  surfer  him  to  be 
carried  to  Rome — and  desired  him  to  prepare  to  set 
out  for  Augsburg.  Luther  resolved  to  obey.  The 
information  he  had  received  from  Count  Mansfeldt  in- 
duced him  to  ask  Frederic  for  a  safe-conduct.  The 
latter  replied,  that  it  was  not  needed,  and  sent  him 
only  letters  of  recommendation  to  several  of  the  most 
distinguished  counsellors  of  Augsburg.  He  at  the 

*Epp.  i.  61. 

f  Ut  vel,stranguler,  vel  baptizer  ad  mortem.  (L.  Epp.  i. 
120.) 

}  Uxor  mea  et  liberi  mei  provisi  sunt.  (L.  Epp.  i.  129.)  — 
He  had  none. 

§  Sic  enim  sponsus  noster  sponsus  sanguinum  nobis  est, 
(L.  Epp.  see  Exodus,  iv.  25.) 


100 


LUTHER  SETS  OUT— AT  NUREMBERG— DE  VIO. 


same  time,  forwarded  some  money  for  his  journey,  and 
the  Reformer,  poor  and  unprotected,  set  forth  on  foot, 
to  place  himself  in  the  power  of  his  adversaries.* 

With  what  feeling  must  he  have  quitted  Wittem- 
berg,  and  directed  his  steps  toward  Augsburg,  where 
the  Pope's  legate  awaited  him !  The  object  of  his 
journey  was  not  like  that  to  Heidelberg — a  friendly 
meeting — he  was  about  to  appear,  without  any  safe- 
conduct,  before  the  delegate  of  Rome ;  perhaps  he  was 
going  to  meet  death.  But  his  faith  was  not  in  word, 
it  was  in  truth.  Therefore  it  was,  that  it  gave  him 
peace ;  and  he  advanced  without  fear,  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord  of  Hosts,  to  bear  his  testimony  to  the  Gospel. 

He  reached  Weimar  on  the  28th  of  September,  and 
took  up  his  lodgings  in  the  convent  of  the  Cordeliers. 
One  of  the  monks  could  not  take  his  eyes  off  him. 
This  was  Myconius.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  seen 
Luther.  He  wished  to  approach  him,  and  whispered 
that  he  owed  to  him  the  peace  of  his  soul,  and  that  all 
his  desire  was  to  labour  with  him.  But  Myconius  was 
closely  watched  by  his  superiors,  and  was  not  permit- 
ted to  speak  to  Luther. t 

The  Elector  of  Saxony  then  held  his  court  at  Wei- 
mar, and  it  is  probable  that,  on  that  account,  the  Cor- 
deliers received  the  Doctor.  The  day  after  his  arrival 
was  the  festival  of  St.  Michael — Luther  said  mass,  and 
was  even  invited  to  preach  in  the  Castle  Chapel.  It 
was  a  mark  of  favour  that  his  Prince  took  pleasure  in 
conferring  upon  him.  He  preached  from  an  overflow- 
ing heart,  in  the  presence  of  the  court,  on  the  text  of 
the  day,  which  is  in  Matthew's  Gospel,  ch.  xviii.  verses 
1  to  11.  He  spoke  strongly  against  hypocrites,  and 
such  as  boast  of  their  own  righteousness.  But  he  said 
not  a  word  of  the  angels,  though  it  was  the  invariable 
custom  to  do  so  on  St.  Michael's  day. 

The  courage  of  the  Doctor,  who  was  repairing  quietly 
on  foot  to  attend  a  summons,  which,  for  so  many  before 
him  had  been  a  summons  to  die,  astonished  those  who 
beheld  him.  Interest,  wonder,  and  compassion,  suc- 
cessively took  possession  of  their  hearts.  John  Kest- 
ner,  provisor  of  the  Cordeliers,  struck  with  apprehen- 
sion at  the  thought  of  the  dangers  that  awaited  his  guest, 
said  :  "  My  brother,  you  have  to  meet  Italians  at 
Augsburg.  They  are  shrewd  people,  subtle  antago- 
nists, and  will  give  you  enough  to  do.  I  fear  you  will 
not  be  able  to  defend  your  cause  against  them.  They 
will  cast  you  into  the  fire,  and  the  flames  will  consume 
you."t  Luther  answered  gravely  :  "  My  dear  friend, 
pray  to  our  Lord  God,  who  is  in  heaven,  and  put  up 
a  pater  noster  for  me,  and  for  his  dear  child  Jesus,  whose 
cause  is  mine — that  he  may  be  favourable  to  him.  If 
He  maintains  his  cause,  mine  is  safe ;  but  if  He  will 
not  maintain  it,  certainly  it  is  not  in  me  to  maintain  it ; 
and  it  is  He  who  will  bear  the  dishonour." 

Luther  continued  his  journey  on  foot,  and  arrived  at 
Nuremberg.  Being  about  to  present  himself  before  a 
prince  of  the  church,  he  wished  to  make  a  suitable 
appearance.  The  dress  he  wore  was  old,  and  much 
the  worse  for  his  journey.  He  therefore  borrowed  a 
monk's  frock  of  his  faithful  friend  Wenceslas  Link, 
the  preacher  at  Nuremberg. 

Doubtless  Luther  did  not  call  on  Link  alone,  but 
visited  his  other  friends  at  Nuremberg,  and  among  them 
Scheurl,  the  town-clerk,  Albert  Durer,  the  celebrated 
painter,  (to  whose  memory  that  town  is  at  this  time 
erecting  a  statue,)  and  others.  He  was  confirmed  in 
his  resolution  by  his  intercourse  with  these  excellent 

*  Veni  igitur  pedester  et  pauper  Augustam.  .  .  .  (L.  Opp. 
lat.  in  praef.) 

t  Ibi  Myobnius  primum  vidit  Lutherum :  sed  ab  accessu  et 
colloquio  ejus  tune  est  prohibitus.  (M.  Adami  Vita  Myconii, 
p.  176.) 

t  Profecto  in  ignem  te  conjicient,  et  flammis  exuerent. 
(Melok  Adam.  Vita  Myconii,  p.  176,  Ref.  Hist.  p.  30.) 


ones  of  the  earth,  whilst  many  monks  as  well  as  laity 
caught  the  alarm  at  his  journey,  and  besought  him  to 
turn  back.  The  letters  he  wrote  from  this  town  breathe 
the  spirit  which  then  animated  him  :  "  I  find,"  said  he, 
"  men  of  cowardly  spirit,  who  wish  to  persuade  me  not 
to  go  to  Augsburg  ;  but  I  am  determined  to  go  on.  May 
the  Lord's  will  be  done  !  Even  at  Augsburg,  and  in 
the  midst  of  his  enemies,  Christ  reigns.  Let  Christ 
be  exalted,  and  the  death  of  Luther,  or  any  other  sinner, 
is  of  little  moment.  As  it  is  written  ;  '  may  the  God 
of  my  salvation  be  exalted  !'  Farewell  !  persevere, 
stand  fast,  for  we  must  be  rejected  either  by  men  or 
by  God  :  but  God  is  true,  and  man  is  a  liar."* 

Link,  and  Leonard,  an  Augustine  monk,  could  not 
bear  to  let  Luther  encounter  alone  the  dangers  that 
threatened  him.  They  knew  his  disposition,  and  that 
overflowing  as  he  was,  with  self-devotion  and  courage, 
tie  would  probably  be  wanting  in  prudence.  They 
therefore  accompanied  him.  When  they  were  within 
five  leagues  of  Augsburg,  Luther,  who  was  no  doubt 
suffering  from  the  fatigue  of  his  journey,  and  the  agita- 
tion of  his  mind,  was  seized  with  violent  pains  in  the 
stomach.  He  thought  he  should  die.  His  two  friends, 
much  alarmed,  engaged  a  waggon.  They  arrived  at 
Augsburg  in  the  evening  of  Friday,  the  7th  of  October, 
and  alighted  at  the  convent  of  the  Augustines.  Lu- 
ther was  much  exhausted  ;  but  he  rapidly  recovered  ; 
and  doubtless  his  faith  and  the  vivacity  of  his  mind 
greatly  conduced  to  his  restoration  to  health. 

Immediately  on  his  arrival,  and  before  he  had  seen 
any  one,  Luther,  desiring  to  show  every  mark  of  re- 
spect to  the  Legate,  begged  Wenceslas  Link  to  go  to 
house,  to  announce  that  he  was  in  Augsburg. 
Link  did  so,  and  respectfully  intimated  to  the  Cardinal, 
on  behalf  of  the  Doctor  of  Wittemberg,  that  the  latter 
was  ready  to  appear  before  him  whenever  he  should 
require  his  attendance.  De  Vio  was  rejoiced  at  this 
intelligence.  At  length,  then,  he  had  the  hot-headed 
heretic  in  his  power ;  he  inwardly  resolved  that  he 
should  not  leave  Augsburg  as  he  had  entered  it.  At 
the  same  time  that  Link  waited  upon  the  Legate,  the 
nonk,  Leonard,  went  to  announce  to  Staupitz,  Luther's 
arrival  at  Augsburg.  The  Vicar-General  had  previously 
written  to  the  Doctor,  to  say  he  would  certainly  visit 
him  as  soon  as  he  arrived.  Luther  lost  no  time  in  in- 
forming hirn  of  his  presence.! 

The  Diet  was  over.  The  Emperor  and  the  Electors 
had  already  left  the  place.  The  Emperor,  it  is  true, 
had  not  finally  taken  his  departure,  but  was  hunting  in 
the  environs.  The  representative  of  Rome  alone  re- 
mained at  Augsburg.  Had  Luther  arrived  whilst  the 
Diet  was  sitting,  he  would  have  met  powerful  friends  ; 
but  everything  now  seemed  likely  to  yield  before  the 
papal  authority. 

The  Judge  before  whom  Luther  was  to  appear  was 
not  of  a  character  to  calm  his  apprehensions.  Thomas 
de  Vio,  who  was  surnamed  Cajetan,  from  the  town  of 
Gaeta,  in  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  where  he  was  born 
(1469,)  was  one  of  whom  great  expectations  had  been 
entertained  from  his  youth.  At  sixteen  he  had  entered 
into  the  order  of  the  Dominicans,  contrary  to  the  ex- 
press wish  of  his  parents.  He  had  afterward  become 
general  of  his  order,  and  cardinal  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 
But  what  boded  ill  to  Luther,  the  learned  Doctor  was 
one  of  the  most  zealous  advocates  of  that  scholastic 
theology  which  the  Reformer  had  so  severely  handled. 
His  learning,  the  austerity  of  his  disposition,  and  the 
purity  of  his  morals,  insured  to  him  an  influence  and 
authority  in  Germany,  which  other  Roman  courtiers 

*  Vitat  Christus  ;  moriatur  Martinus  ....  (Weismanni 
Hist.  Sacr  Novi  Test.  p.  1465.)  Weismann  had  read  this  letter 
in  manuscript.  I  is  not  in  the  collection  of  M.  de  Wette. 

|E.  Epp.i.p.  144 


SERRA  LONGA  AND  LUTHER. 


101 


would  not  easily  have  acquired.  It  was  to  his  reputa- 
tion for  sanctity,  no  doubt,  that  he  owed  his  appoint- 
ment. Rome  had  calculated  that  this  would  admirably 
serve  her  purposes.  Thus  even  the  good  qualities  of 
Cajetan  made  him  still  more  formidable.  Besides,  the 
affair  intrusted  to  him  was  by  no  means  a  complicated 
one.  Luther  was  already  declared  a  heretic.  If  he 
would  not  retract,  the  Legate's  duty  must  be  to  send 
him  to  prison  ;  and,  if  he  escaped,  to  visit  with  excom- 
munication such  as  should  dare  to  receive  him.  This 
was  the  course  which  the  dignitary,  before  whom  Lu- 
ther was  cited,  was  authorised  to  take  on  behalf  of 
Rome.* 

The  Reformer  had  recruited  his  strength  by  a  night's 
rest.  On  the  morning  of  Saturday,  the  8th  of  October, 
he  began  to  reflect  on  his  strange  situation.  He  was 
resigned,  and  was  patiently  waiting  till  God's  will 
should  be  manifested  by  the  progress  of  events  ;  he 
did  not  wait  long.  A  person,  unknown  to  him,  sent 
him  word,  as  if  entirely  devoted  to  his  service,  that  he 
was  coming  to  visit  him,  advising  him  to  avoid  appear- 
ing before  the  Legate  till  he  had  seen  him.  The  mes- 
sage came  from  an  Italian  courtier,  named  Urban  de 
Serra  Longa,  who  had  often  visited  Germany  as  envoy 
from  the  Margrave  of  Montferrat.  He  had  known  the 
Elector  of  Saxony,  at  whose  court  he  had  been  accre- 
dited, and  after  the  Margrave's  death,  he  had  attached 
himself  to  the  Cardinal  de  Vio. 

The  art  and  address  of  this  courtier  presented  the 
most  striking  contrast  to  the  noble  frankness  and  gen- 
erous integrity  of  Luther.  The  Italian  soon  arrived 
at  the  monastery  of  the  Augustines.  The  Cardinal 
had  sent  him  to  sound  the  Reformer,  and  to  prepare 
him  for  the  recantation  expected  from  him.  Serra 
Longa  imagined  that  his  long  residence  in  Germany 
gave  him  an  advantage  over  the  other  courtiers  of  the 
Legate's  train  ;  he  expected  to  make  short  work  with 
this  German  monk.  He  arrived,  attended  by  two  ser- 
vants, and  professed  to  have  come,  of  his  own  accord, 
from  friendship  for  a  favourite  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony, 
and  out  of  love  to  the  Church.  After  having  saluted 
Luther  with  many  professions  the  diplomatist  added, 
in  a  tone  of  affection  : 

"  I  am  come  to  offer  you  prudent  and  good  advice. 
Make  your  peace  with  the  church.  Submit  unreserved- 
ly to  the  Cardinal.  Retract  your  calumnies.  Recol- 
lect the  abbot  Joachim,  of  Florence ;  he,  as  you  know, 
had  put  forth  heresies,  and  yet  he  was  afterward  de- 
clared no  heretic,  because  he  retracted  his  errors." 

Luther  intimated  his  intention  of  standing  upon  his 
defence. 

SERRA  LONGA. — "Beware  of  that.  Would  you 
presume  to  enter  the  lists  with  the  Legate  of  his  Ho- 
liness 1" 

LUTHER. — "If  they  can  prove  to  me  that  I  have 
taught  any  thing  contrary  to  the  Romish  Church,  I  will 
be  my  own  judge,  and  immediately  retract.  But  the 
main  point  is,  to  ascertain  whether  the  Legate  relies 
more  on  the  authority  of  St.  Thomas  than  the  faith 
will  sanction.  If  he  does,  I  shall  certainly  not  submit 
to  him." 

SERRA  LONGA. — "  Oh,  oh  !  you  intend,  then,  to  of- 
fer him  battle !" 

Upon  this  the  Italian  began  to  use  language  which 
Luther  designates  as  horrible.  He  asserted,  that  one 
might  maintain  false  propositions,  if  they  only  brought 
in  money  and  filled  the  strong  box  ;  that  all  discussion 
in  the  universities  concerning  the  Pope's  authority 
was  to  be  avoided  ;  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  it  was 
sound  doctrine  that  the  Pontiff  might,!  by  a  nod,  alter 

*  The  Pope's  Bull.     (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  174.) 
fEt  nutu  solo  omnia  abrogate,  etiam  eaquaefidei  assent. 
(L.  Epp.  i.  144.) 


or  suppress  articles  of  faith  ;  with  much  more  in  the 
same  strain.  But  the  crafty  Italian  soon  perceived 
that  he  was  forgetting  himself;  he  resumed  his  former 
gentleness,  and  endeavoured  to  persuade  Luther  to 
submit  to  the  Legate  in  every  thing,  and  to  retract  his 
doctrine,  his  theses,  and  the  oaths  he  had  taken. 

The  Doctor,  who  at  first  had  given  some  credit  to 
the  fair  professions  of  the  orator  Urban,  (as  he  calls  him 
in  his  narrative,)  began  to  suspect  that  they  were  very 
hollow,  and  that  he  was  much  more  in  the  interest  of 
the  Legate  than  in  his.  He  therefore  spoke  with  ra- 
ther more  reserve,  and  contented  himself  with  saying, 
that  he  was  quite  ready  to  be  humble  and  obedient, 
and  to  give  satisfaction  in  any  point  in  which  he  might 
be  shewn  to  be  in  error.  At  these  words  Serra  Longa 
exclaimed,  exultingly  :  "  I  will  go  directly  to  the  Le- 
gate, and  you  will  follow  me  presently.  Every  thing 
will  go  well,  and  it  will  be  soon  settled."* 

He  took  his  leave,  and  the  Saxon  monk,  who  had 
more  discernment  than  the  Roman  courtier,  thought 
within  himself:  "This  crafty  Sinon  has  been  poorly 
trained  by  his  Greeks."!  Luther  was  divided  between 
hope  and  fear.  Yet  hope  prevailed.  The  visit  of 
Serra  Longa,  whom  he  afterward  calls  a  foolish  med- 
dler,! and  his  strange  assertions,  aroused  his  courage. 

The  different  counsellors,  and  other  respectable  in- 
habitants of  Augsburg,  to  whom  the  Elector  had  re- 
commended Luther,  were  all  eager  to  visit  a  man 
whose  name  already  resounded  through  all  Germany. 
Peutinger,  the  Imperial  counsellor,  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  patricians  in  the  city,  and  who  often  in- 
vited Luther  to  his  table,  the  counsellor  Langemantel, 
Doctor  Auerbach  of  Leipzig,  and  the  two  brothers 
Adelmann,  both  canons,  with  several  others,  repaired 
to  the  convent  of  the  Augustines.  With  cordial  friend- 
ship they  accosted  this  extraordinary  man,  who  had 
taken  a  long  journey  to  deliver  himself  up  to  the  agents 
of  Rome.  "  Have  you  a  safe-conduct  1"  asked  they. 
"  No,"  replied  the  intrepid  monk.  "  What  boldness  !" 
they  exclaimed.  "  This,"  said  Luther,  "  was  a  civil 
phrase,  to  express  my  fool-hardiness."  All  joined  in 
entreating  him  not  to  go  to  the  Legate  without  first 
obtaining  a  safe-conduct  from  the  Emperor  himself. 
It  is  probable  that  something  had  already  transpired 
concerning  the  papal  brief,  of  which  the  Legate  was 
the  bearer. 

"  But  I  came  to  Augsburg  without  a  safe-conduct," 
replied  Luther,  "  and  I  met  with  no  harm." 

"  The  Elector,"  resumed  Langemantel,  with  affec- 
tionate earnestness,  "  commended  you  to  our  care  ; 
you  ought,  therefore,  to  follow  our  directions." 

Doctor  Auerbach  added  his  entreaties  to  those  of 
Langementel.  "  We  know,"  said  he,  "  that  the  Car- 
dinal is,  in  his  heart,  enraged  against  you  to  the  great- 
est degree.^  We  must  not  trust  these  Italians."!! 

The  canon,  Adelmann,  spoke  to  the  same  effect : 
"  They  have  sent  you  without  protection,"  said  he, 
"  and  they  have  neglected  to  provide  you  with  the  very 
thing  which  you  most  need."1T 

His  friends  took  upon  themselves  to  obtain  the  ne- 
cessary safe-conduct  from  the  Emperor.  They  then 
proceeded  to  tell  Luther  how  many  persons  of  conse- 
quence were  favourably  disposed  toward  him.  "The 
French  minister  himself,  who  left  Augsburg  a  few  days 
ago,  spoke  of  you  most  honourably."**  This  remark 
struck  Luther,  and  he  remembered  it  afterward.  Thus 

*L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  179. 

t  Hune  Sinonem  parura  consulte  instructum  arte  pelasga. 
(L.  Epp.  i.  p.  144  :  see  Virgil's  ^Eneid,  Book  2.) 

+  Mediator  ineptus.     (Ibid.) 

§  Sciunt  enira  eum  in  me  exacerbatissimum  intus,  quicquia 
simulet  foris.  .  .(L.  Epp.  i.,  p.  143.) 

||  L,  Opp.  (L  )  xvii.,  p.  201. 

f  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.,  p.  203.  **  Seckendorf,  p.  144. 


102 


RETURN  OF  SERRA  LONGA— LUTHER  AND  SERRA  LONGA. 


some  of  the  most  remarkable  citizens  of  one  of  the  first 
cities  in  the  empire  were  already  gained  over  to  the 
Reformation. 

Their  conversation  had  reached  this  point,  when 
Serra  Longa  returned  : — "  Come,"  said  he  to  Luther, 
"  the  Cardinal  is  waiting  for  you.  I  will  myself  con- 
duct you  to  him.  But  first  let  me  tell  you  how  you 
must  appear  in  his  presence.  When  you  enter  the 
room  where  he  is  sitting,  you  must  prostrate  yourself 
with  your  face  to  the  ground ;  when  he  tells  you  to 
rise,  you  must  kneel  before  him,  and  you  must  not 
stand  erect  till  he  orders  you  to  do  so.*  Remember 
that  it  is  before  a  prince  of  the  church  you  are  about 
to  appear.  As  to  the  rest,  fear  nothing  ;  all  will  soon 
be  settled  without  any  difficulty." 

Luther,  who  had  before  promised  to  accompany 
Serra  Longa  whenever  he  should  summon  him,  was 
embarrassed.  However,  he  did  not  fail  to  repeat  the 
advice  of  his  Augsburg  friends,  and  said  something  of 
a  safe-conduct. 

"  Beware  of  asking  anything  of  the  sort,"  replied 
Serra  Longa,  quickly  ;  "you  have  no  need  of  it  what- 
ever. The  Legate  is  well  disposed  toward  you,  and 
quite  ready  to  end  the  affair  amicably.  If  you  ask 
fot  a  safe-conduct,  you  will  spoil  all."t 

"  My  gracious  lord,  the  Elector  of  Saxony,"  replied 
Luther,  "  recommended  me  to  several  honourable  men 
in  this  town.  They  advise  me  not  to  venture  without 
a  safe-conduct :  I  ought  to  follow  their  advice.  Were 
I  to  neglect  it,  and  anything  should  befal  me,  they 
would  write  to  the  Elector,  my  master,  that  I  would 
not  hearken  to  them." 

Luther  persisted  in  his  resolution  ;  and  Serra  Longa 
was  obliged  to  return  to  his  employer,  and  report  to 
him  the  failure  of  his  mission,  at  the  very  moment 
when  he  fancied  it  would  be  crowned  with  success. 

Thus  ended  that  day's  conference  with  the  orator 
of  Montferrat. 

Luther  received  another  invitation,  proceeding  from 
very  different  motives.  John  Frosch,  prior  of  the  Car- 
melites, was  an  old  friend.  Two  years  before,  he  had 
maintained  some  theses,  as  a  licentiate  in  theology, 
under  the  superintendence  of  Luther.  He  called  on 
him,  and  pressed  him  to  come  and  stay  with  him.  He 
laid  claim  to  the  honour  of  having  the  Doctor  of  all 
Germany  as  his  guest.  Already  men  did  not  fear  to 
render  him  homage  in  the  face  of  Rome ;  already  the 
weak  was  become  the  stronger.  Luther  accepted  the 
invitation,  and  accordingly  removed  from  the  convent 
of  the  Augustines  to  that  of  the  Carmelites. 

The  day  did  not  close  without  his  seriously  reflect- 
ing on  his  position.  The  visit  of  Serra  Longa,  and 
the  apprehensions  of  the  counsellors,  concurred  to  con- 
vince him  of  the  difficult  circumstances  in  which  he 
stood.  Nevertheless,  he  had  God  in  heaven  for  his 
protector,  and  in  His  keeping  he  could  sleep  in  peace. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday  ;  he  obtained  a  little  more 
rest.  However,  he  was  obliged  to  bear  another  kind 
of  fatigue.  Nothing  was  talked  of  in  the  city  but  Dr. 
Luther,  and  all  desired  to  see  (as  he  wrote  to  Melanc- 
thon)  "  the  new  Erostratus  who  had  kindled  so  vast  a 
conflagration."  They  crowded  about  him  ;  and  the 
good  Doctor,  doubtless,  smiled  at  this  strange  excite- 
ment. 

But  he  had  also  to  support  another  sort  of  importu- 
nity. If  there  was  a  general  wish  to  see  him,  there 
was  a  still  greater  desire  to  hear  him.  He  was  asked 
on  all  sides  to  preach.  Luther  had  no  greater  joy  than 
to  proclaim  the  Gospel.  He  would  have  rejoiced  to 
preach  Christ  in  this  great  city,  and  in  the  solemn  cir- 
cumstances in  which  he  was  placed.  But  on  this,  as 


Seckendorf,  p.  130. 


fL.  Opp.(L.)  179. 


on  many  occasions,  he  manifested  a  most  proper  feel- 
ing of  decorum,  and  much  respect  for  his  superiors. 
He  declined  to  preach,  in  the  fear  that  the  Legate  might 
think  he  did  so  to  vex  and  to  brave  him.  This  mode- 
ration and  prudence  were  assuredly  as  valuable  instruc- 
tions as  a  sermon. 

However,  the  Cardinal's  agents  did  not  let  him  rest, 
but  returned  to  the  charge.  "The  Cardinal,"  said 
they,  "  sends  you  assurances  of  his  grace  and  favour  : 
why  are  you  afraid]"  And  they  endeavoured  by 
every  possible  argument  to  persuade  him  to  wait  upon 
the  Legate.  "  He  is  so  gracious,  that  he  is  like  a 
father,"  said  one  of  these  emissaries.  But  another, 
going  close  up  to  him,  whispered  :  "  Do  not  believe 
what  they  say.  There  is  no  dependance  to  be  placed 
upon  his  words."*  Luther  persisted  in  his  resolution. 

On  the  morning  of  Monday,  the  10th  of  October, 
Serra  Longa  again  renewed  his  persuasions.  The 
courtier  had  made  it  a  point  of  honour  to  succeed  in 
his  negotiations.  The  moment  he  entered : 

"  Why,"  he  asked  in  Latin,  "  why  do  you  not  go  to 
the  Cardinal  1  He  is  expecting  you  in  the  most  in- 
dulgent frame  of  mind.  With  him  the  whole  question 
is  summed  up  in  six  letters :  REVOCA — retract.  Come, 
then,  with  me,  you  have  nothing  to  fear." 

Luther  thought  within  himself  that  those  were  six 
very  important  letters  ;  but  without  farther  discussion, 
he  replied : 

"As  soon  as  I  have  received  the  safe-conduct,  I 
will  appear." 

Serra  Longa  lost  his  temper  at  these  words.  He 
persisted — he  brought  forward  additional  reasons  for 
compliance.  But  Luther  was  immoveable.  The  Ita- 
lian courtier,  still  irritated,  exclaimed  : 

"  You  imagine,  no  doubt,  that  the  Elector  will  take 
up  arms  in  your  favour,  and  risk,  for  your  sake,  the 
loss  of  the  dominions  he  inherits  from  his  ancestors." 

LUTHER. — "  God  forbid  !" 

SERRA  LONGA. — "  When  all  forsake  you,  where  will 
you  take  refuge  1" 

LUTHER,  smiling,  and  looking  upward  with  the  eye 
of  faith — "  Under  heaven  !"t 

For  an  instant  Serra  Longa  was  struck  dumb  by  this 
sublime  and  unexpected  reply  ;  he  then  continued  : 

"  How  would  you  act  if  you  had  the  Legate,  the 
Pope,  and  all  the  Cardinals  in  your  power,  as  they 
have  you,  at  this  moment,  in  theirs  V 

LUTHER. — "  I  would  pay  them  all  respect  and  hon- 
our. But  the  word  of  God  is  with  me — above  all." 

SERRA  LONGA,  laughing,  and  moving  one  of  his 
fingers  backward  and  forward,  in  a  manner  peculiar 
to  the  Italians. — "  Ha  !  ha  !  all  proper  honour  !  I  do 
not  believe  a  word  of  it !" 

He  then  left  the  house,  leaped  into  his  saddle,  and 
disappeared. 

Serra  Longa  went  no  more  to  Luther  ;  but  he  long 
remembered  the  resistance  he  had  met  with  from  the 
Reformer,  and  that  which  his  master  was  doomed  soon 
after  to  experience  in  person.  We  shall  find  him 
again,  at  a  later  period,  loudly  demanding  the  blood 
of  Luther. 

Shortly  after  Serra  Longa  had  left  Luther,  the  lat 
ter  received  the  safe-conduct.  His  friends  had  pro- 
cured it  from  the  Imperial  counsellors.  It  is  probable 
that  they  had  consulted  the  Emperor  on  the  subject, 
as  he  was  riot  far  from  Augsburg.  It  would  even  seem, 
from  what  the  Cardinal  afterward  said,  that,  from  a 
wish  to  avoid  offending  him,  they  had  asked  his  consent 
to  their  application ;  perhaps  that  may  have  been  the 
reason  why  De  Vio  sounded  Luther  through  Serra 

*  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.,  p.  305. 

f  Et  ubi  manebis  ?  .  .  .  Respond! :  Sub.  Ccelo.     (L.  Opp. 

in  praef.) 


APPEARANCE  BEFORE  THE  LEGATE— FIRST  INTERVIEW. 


103 


Longa ;  for  to  oppose  openly  the  giving  him  a  safe 
conduct,  would  have  discovered  intentions  that  it  was 
wished  to  conceal.  It  seemed  a  safer  policy  to  per- 
suade Luther  himself  to  desist  from  the  demand.  But 
it  soon  became  evident  that  the  Saxon  monk  was  not 
likely  to  yield. 

Luther  was  about  to  appear  before  the  Legate.  In 
requiring  a  safe-conduct,  he  did  not  lean  upon  an  arm 
of  flesh,  for  he  well  remembered  that  the  Emperor's 
safe-conduct  had  not  saved  John  Huss  from  the  flames. 
He  only  desired  to  do  his  duty  by  following  the  advice 
of  his  master's  friends.  The  Lord  would  decide  his 
cause.  If  God  required  his  life,  he  was  ready,  joyfully, 
to  lay  it  down.  At  this  solemn  moment,  he  felt  the 
need  of  once  more  communicating  with  his  friends,  and 
especially  with  Melancthon,  already  so  endeared  to 
him  ;  and  he  availed  himself  of  an  interval  of  leisure 
to  write  to  him. 

"  Shew  yourself  a  man,"  said  he,  "  as  you  are  ready 
to  do.  Instruct  the  youth  of  our  beloved  country  in 
what  is  right  and  agreeable  to  the  will  of  God.  As 
for  me,  I  am  going  to  offer  up  myself  for  you  and  for 
them,*  if  it  be  the  Lord's  will.  I  prefer  death,  yea, 
even,  what  to  me  would  be  the  greatest  misfortune, 
the  loss  of  your  valued  society,  to  retracting  what  it 
was  my  duty  to  teach,  and  perhaps  ruining  by  my  fail- 
ure the  noble  cause  to  which  we  are  devoted. 

"  Italy  is  involved,  as  Egypt  was  formerly,  in  thick 
darkness,  even  darkness  which  may  be  felt.  The 
whole  nation  knows  nothing  of  Christ,  nor  of  what 
pertains  to  him.  And  yet  they  are  our  lords  and  mas- 
ters in  the  faith  and  in  morals.  Thus  the  wrath  of 
God  is  fulfilled  amongst  us  ;  as  the  prophet  says,  '  I 
will  give  children  to  be  their  princes,  and  babes  shall 
rule  over  them.'  Do  your  duty  to  God,  my  dear 
Philip,  and  avert  his  wrath  by  fervent  and  holy  prayer." 
The  Legate,  apprised  that  Luther  would  appear  the 
next  day  before  him,  called  together  those  in  whom  he 
had  confidence,  both  Italians  and  Germans,  that  he 
might  concert  with  them  how  he  ought  to  treat  the 
German  monk.  Opinions  were  divided.  One  said, 
"  We  must  compel  him  to  retract."  Another,  "We 
must  arrest  him  and  throw  him  into  prison."  A  third 
was  of  opinion  that  it  would  be  better  to  put  him  out 
of  the  way.  A  fourth,  that  it  would  be  expedient 
rather  to  win  him  over  by  gentleness  and  mildness. 
The  Cardinal  seems  to  have  resolved,  in  the  first  in- 
stance, to  make  trial  of.  this  last  method. f 

At  length  the  day  of  conference  arrived.^  The 
Legate,  knowing  that  Luther  had  declared  himself 
willing  to  retract  whatever  should  be  proved  contrary 
to  the  truth,  was  sanguine  as  to  the  result ;  he  did  not 
doubt  that  one  of  his  rank  and  learning  would,  without 
much  difficulty,  reclaim  the  monk  to  obedience  to  the 
Church. 

Luther  repaired  to  the  house  of  the  Legate,  accom- 
panied by  the  prior  of  the  Carmelites,  his  friend  and 
host,  by  two  friars  of  the  convent,  by  Doctor  Link,  and 
by  an  Augustine,  probably  the  same  that  had  accom- 
panied him  from  Nuremberg.  Scarcely  had  he  entered 
the  Legate's  palace,  when  all  the  Italians,  who  com- 
posed the  train  of  this  Prince  of  the  Church,  flocked 
round  him,  desiring  to  see  the  famous  Doctor,  and 
pressed  him  so  closely  that  he  could  hardly  proceed. 
On  entering  the  room  where  the  Cardinal  was  waiting 
for  him,  Luther  found  him  accompanied  by  the  apos- 
tolical nuncio  and  Serra  Longa.  His  reception  was 
cool,  but  civil ;  and,  according  to  Roman  etiquette, 
Luther,  following  the  instructions  of  Serra  Longa, 
prostrated  himself  before  the  Cardinal ;  when  the  latter 
told  him  to  rise,  he  knelt;  and  when  the  command 

*  Ego  pro  illis  et  vobis  vado  immolarl.     (L.  Epp.  i.  146.) 
fL.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.,  p.  113.     J:  Tuesday,  llth  of  October.     ' 


was  repeated,  he  stood  erect.  Several  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished Italians  of  the  Legate's  household  entered 
the  room,  in  order  to  be  present  at  the  interview,  im- 
patient to  see  the  German  monk  humble  himself  before 
the  Pope'e  representative. 

The  Legate  was  silent.  He  expected,  says  a  con- 
temporary, that  Luther  would  begin  his  recantation. 
But  Luther  waited  reverently  for  the  Roman  Prince 
to  address  him.  Finding,  however,  that  he  did  not 
open  his  lips,  he  understood  his  silence  as  an  invitation 
to  open  the  business,  and  spoke  as  follows  : 

"  Most  worthy  father,  upon  the  summons  of  his 
Holiness  the  Pope,  and  at  the  desire  of  my  gracious 
Lord,  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  I  appear  before  you  as  a 
humble  and  obedient  son  of  the  holy  Christian  Church ; 
and  I  acknowledge  that  it  was  I  who  published  the 
propositions  and  theses  that  are  the  subject  of  inquiry. 
I  am  ready  to  listen  with  all  submission  to  the  charges 
brought  against  me,  and,  if  I  am  in  error,  to  be  in- 
structed in  the  truth." 

The  Cardinal,  who  had  determined  to  assume  the 
tone  of  a  kind  and  compassionate  father  toward  an 
erring  child,  answered  in  the  most  friendly  manner, 
commended  Luther's  humility,  and  expressed  the  joy 
he  felt  on  beholding  it,  saying  :  "  My  .dear  son,  you 
have  filled  all  Germany  with  commotion  by  your  dis- 
pute concerning  indulgences.  I  hear  that  you  are  a 
doctor  well  skilled  in  the  Scriptures,  and  that  you  have 
many  followers.  If,  therefore,  you  wish  to  be  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Church,  and  to  have  in  the  Pope  a  most 
gracious  lord,  listen  to  me." 

After  this  exordium,  the  legate  did  not  hesitate  to 
tell  him  all  that  he  expected  of  him,  so  confident  was 
he  of  his  submission:  "Here,"  said  he,  "are  three 
articles  which,  acting  under  the  direction  of  our  most 
holy  Father,  Pope  Leo  the  Tenth,  I  am  to  propose  to 
you : 

"  First,  you  must  return  to  your  duty  ;  you  must 
acknowledge  your  faults,  and  retract  your  errors,  your 
propositions,  and  sermons.  Secondly,  you  must  pro- 
mise to  abstain  for  the  future,  from  propagating  your 
opinions.  And,  thirdly,  you  must  engage  to  be  more 
discreet,  and  avoid  everything  that  may  grieve  or  dis- 
turb the  church." 

LUTHER. — "Most  worthy  father,  I  request  to  be 
permitted  to  see  the  Pope's  brief,  by  virtue  of  which 
you  have  received  full  power  to  negotiate  this  affair." 

Serra  Longa  and  the  rest  of  the  Italians  of  the  Car- 
dinal's train  were  struck  with  astonishment  at  such  a 
demand  ;  and  although  the  German  monk  had  already 
appeared  to  them  a  strange  phenomenon,  they  were 
completely  disconcerted  at  so  bold  a  speech.  Chris- 
tians familiar  with  the  principles  of  justice  desire  to 
see  them  adhered  to  in  proceedings  against  others  or 
themselves  ;  but,  those  who  are  accustomed  to  act  ac- 
cording to  their  own  will,  are  much  surprised  when 
required  to  proceed  regularly  and  agreeably  to  form 
and  law. 

DE  Vio. — "Your  command,  my  son,  cannot  be 
complied  with.  You  have  to  acknowledge  your  er- 
rors ;  to  be  careful  for  the  future  what  you  teach  ;  not 
to  return  to  your  vomit ;  so  that  you  may  rest  without 
care  and  anxiety  ;  and  then,  acting  by  the  command 
and  on  the  authority  of  our  most  holy  father  the  Pope, 
[  will  adjust  the  whole  affair." 

LUTHER. — "Deign,  then,  to  inform  me  wherein  I 
lave  erred." 

At  this  request,  the  Italian  courtiers,  who  had  ex- 
Dected  to  see  the  poor  German  fall  upon  his  knees  and 
mplore  mercy,  were  still  more  astonished  than  before. 
Not  one  of  them  would  have  condescended  to  answer 
so  impertinent  a  question.  But  De  Vio,  who  thought 
'.t  scarcely  generous  to  crush  this  feeble  monk  by  the 


104 


DE  VIO'S  PROOFS— LUTHER'S  REPLIES— A  PROPOSAL. 


weight  of  all  his  authority,  and  trusted,  moreover,  to 
his  own  learning  for  obtaining  an  easy  victory,  con- 
sented to  tell  Luther  what  he  was  accused  of,  and  even 
to  enter  into  discussion  with  him.  We  must  do  jus- 
tice to  the  general  of  the  Dominicans.  It  must  be 
acknowledged,  that  he  showed  more  equity,  a  greater 
sense  of  propriety,  and  less  irritation,  than  have  sub- 
sequently been  exhibited  in  a  majority  of  similar  cases. 
He  assumed  a  tone  of  condescension,  and  said  : 

"  My  beloved  son  !  there  are  two  propositions  put 
forward  by  you,  which  you  must,  before  all,  retract : 
1st.  'The  treasure  of  indulgences  does  not  consist  of 
the  merits  and  sufferings  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.' 
2dly.  4  The  man  who  receives  the  holy  sacrament 
must  have  faith  in  the  grace  offered  to  him.'  " 

Both  these  propositions  did  indeed  strike  a  death- 
blow at  the  commerce  of  Rome.  If  the  Pope  had  not 
power  to  dispose  at  will  of  the  Saviour's  merits — if, 
on  receiving  the  paper  in  which  the  brokers  of  the 
Church  traded,  men  did  not  acquire  a  portion  of  that 
infinite  righteousness — this  paper  currency  lost  its 
value,  and  men  would  count  it  no  better  than  a  mere 
rag.  And  thus  also  with  the  sacraments.  The  in- 
dulgences were,  in  some  sense,  an  extraordinary  branch 
of  commerce  with  Rome  ;  the  sacraments  made  part 
of  her  ordinary  traffic.  The  revenue  they  yielded  was 
by  no  means  small.  But  to  assert  that  faith  was 
necessary  to  make  them  productive  of  any  real  benefit 
to  the  soul  of  the  Christian,  was  to  rob  them  of  their 
attraction  in  the  sight  of  the  people.  For  faith  is  not 
in  the  Pope's  gift ;  it  is  beyond  his  power,  and  can 
come  from  God  alone.  To  declare  its  necessity  was, 
therefore,  to  snatch  from  the  hands  of  Rome  both  the 
speculation  and  the  profits  attached  to  it.  In  assailing 
these  two  doctrines,  Luther  had  followed  the  example 
of  Christ  himself.  In  the  very  beginning  of  his  mi- 
nistry he  had  overturned  the  tables  of  the  money- 
changers, and  driven  the  dealers  out  of  the  temple. 
"Make  not  my  father's  house  a  house  of  merchandise." 
Cajetan  continued  :  "I  will  not  bring  forward  the 
authority  of  St.  Thomas,  and  the  other  scholastic  doc- 
tors to  confute  these  errors  ;  I  will  rest  entirely  on 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  speak  to  you  in  perfect  friend- 
ship." 

Nevertheless,  when  De  Vio  proceeded  to  bring  for- 
ward his  proofs,  he  departed  from  the  rule  he  had  lain 
down.*  He  combated  Luther's  first  proposition  by  an 
Extravagance  or  Constitution^  of  Pope  Clement ;  and 
the  second,  by  all  sorts  of  opinions  from  the  scholastic- 
divines.  The  discussion  turned  at  its  outset  upon  this 
constitution  of  the  Pope  in  favour  of  indulgences. 
Luther,  indignant  at  hearing  what  authority  the  Legate 
attributed  to  a  decree  of  Rome,  exclaimed  : 

"  I  cannot  receive  such  constitutions  as  sufficient 

proofs  on  subjects  so  important.     For  they  wrest  the 

holy  Scriptures,  and  never  quote  them  to  the  purpose." 

DE  Vio. — "  The  Pope  has  authority  and  power  over 

all  things." 

LUTHER  (warmly). — "  Save  the  Scriptures.":}: 
DE  Vio  (in  derision). — Save  the  Scriptures !  .  .  . 
Do  not  you  know  that  the  Pope  is  higher  than  the 
Councils,  for  he  recently  condemned  and  punished  the 
council  of  Bale." 

LUTHER. — "  But  the  university  of  Paris  has  appealed 
against  his  decision." 

DE  Vio. — ".Those  gentlemen  of  Pans  will  receive 
their  desert." 

The  Cardinal  and  Luther  then  proceeded  to  discuss 
the  second  article,  namely  the  faith  that  Luther  de- 

*  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xyii.,  p.  180. 

t  This  name  is  given  to  certain  Constitutions  of  the  Popes, 
collected  and  appended  to  the  Canon  Law. 
J  Salva  Scriptura. 


clared  to  be  necessary  to  render  the  sacraments  effica- 
cious. Luther,  pursuing  his  usual  method,  quoted,  in 
favour  of  the  opinion  that  he  maintained,  several  pas- 
sages of  Scripture.  But  the  Legate  received  them 
with  derision.  "  It  is  of  faith  in  general  that  you  are 
speaking  now,"  said  he.  "  Not  so,"  replied  Luther. 
One  of  the  Italians,  the  Legate's  master  of  the  cere- 
monies, provoked  at  Luther's  resistance  and  answers, 
was  burning  with  desire  to  speak.  He  often  attempted 
to  interrupt  the  conversation  ;  but  the  Legate  com- 
manded silence.  At  last,  he  was  obliged  to  reprove 
him  in  so  authoritative  a  tone,  that  the  master  of  the 
ceremonies  left  the  room  in  confusion.* 

"As  to  indulgences,"  said  Luther  to  the  Legate, 
"  if  you  can  prove  to  me  that  I  am  mistaken,  I  am 
ready  to  receive  instruction.  We  may  leave  that  sub- 
ject open,  without  compromising  our  faith  as  Chris- 
tians. But  as  to  that  other  article  concerning  faith, 
if  I  yielded  anything  here,  I  should  be  denying  Christ. 
I  cannot,  therefore,  and  I  will  not,  yield  that  point;  and, 
by  God's  help,  I  will  hold  it  to  the  end." 

DE  Vio  (beginning  to  lose  temper.) — "  Whether 
you  will  or  will  not,  you  must  this  very  day  retract 
that  article,  or  else  for  that  article  alone,  I  will  proceed 
to  reject  and  condemn  all  your  doctrine." 

LUTHER. — "  I  have  no  will  but  the  Lord's.  He  will 
do  with  me  what  seemeth  good  in  his  sight.  But  had 
I  a  hundred  heads,  I  would  rather  lose  them  all  than 
retract  the  testimony  I  have  borne  to  the  holy  Chris- 
tian faith." 

DE  Vro. — "  I  am  not  come  here  to  argue  with  you. 
Retract,  or  prepare  to  endure  the  punishment  you  have 
deserved."! 

Luther  clearly  perceived  that  it  was  impossible  to 
end  the  affair  by  a  conference.  His  adversary  was 
seated  before  him,  as  though  he  himself  were  pope,  and 
required  a  humble  submission  to  all  that  he  said  to  him, 
while  he  received  Luther's  answers,  even  when  ground- 
ed on  the  Holy  Scriptures,  with  shrugs,  and  every  kind 
of  irony  and  contempt.  He  thought  the  most  prudent 
plan  would  be  to  answer  the  cardinal  in  writing.  This 
means,  thought  he,  offered  at  least  one  consolation  to 
the  oppressed.  Others  might  then  give  their  judgment 
of  the  affair :  and  the  unjust  adversary,  who,  by  cla- 
mour, remained  master  of  the  field,  might  be  overawed 
by  the  public  voice. t 

Having,  therefore,  shown  a  disposition  to  withdraw  : 
"Do  you  wish,"  said  the  Legate  to  him,  "  that  I  should 
give  you  a  safe-conduct  to  repair  to  Rome?" 

Nothing  would  have  pleased  Cajetan  better  than  the 
acceptance  of  this  offer.  He  would  thus  have  got  rid 
of  an  affair  of  which  he  began  to  perceive  the  difficul- 
ties, and  Luther  and  his  heresy  would  have  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  those  who  would  have  known  how  to  deal 
with  them.  But  the  Reformer,  who  was  sensible  of 
the  dangers  that  surrounded  him  even  at  Augsburg, 
took  care  to  refuse  an  offer  that  would  have  delivered 
him  up,  bound  hand  and  foot,  to  the  vengeance  of  his 
enemies.  He  rejected  the  proposal  as  often  as  De  Vio 
chose  to  repeat  it ;  which  he  did  several  times.  The 
Legate  concealed  the  chagrin  he  felt  at  Luther's  re- 
fusal ;  he  assumed  an  air  of  dignity,  and  dismissed  the 
monk  with  a  compassionate  smile,  under  which  he  en- 
deavoured to  hide  his  disappointment,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  with  the  politeness  of  one  who  hopes  to  have 
better  success  another  time. 

Hardly  had  Luther  reached  the  court-yard  of  the 
palace,  when  the  loquacious  Italian,  the  master  of  the 
ceremonies  whom  the  Cardinal's  reprimands  had  oblig- 
ed to  leave  the  hall  of  audience,  delighted  at  being  able 

*  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  180. 

t  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  180,  183,  206,  &C. 

j  L.  Opp.  (L )  xvii.  p.  209. 


ARRIVAL  OF  STAUPITZ— LUTHER'S  DECLARATION. 


105 


to  speak  to  him  out  of  the  hearing  of  Cajetan,  and  eager 
to  confound  the  abominable  heretic  by  his  overpower- 
ing arguments,  ran  after  him,  and,  before  he  came  up 
with  him,  began  to  deal  out  his  sophisms.  But  Luther, 
disgusted  with  the  man's  folly,  answered  him  with  ono 
of  those  sarcastic  rebukes  which  he  always  had  at 
command,  and  the  master  of  the  ceremonies,  quite 
confounded,  turned  back,  and  slunk  abashed  to  the 
Cardinal's  palace. 

Luther  had  not  been  impressed  with  a  very  high  opi 
nion  of  his  dignified  adversary.  He  had  heard  from 
him,  as  he  afterward  wrote  to  Spalatin,  assertions  which 
were  quite  contrary  to  sound  theology,  and  which,  in 
the  mouth  of  another,  would  have  been  considered  arch- 
heresies.  And  yet  De  Vio  was  looked  upon  as  the 
most  learned  of  the  Dominicans.  Next  to  him  stood 
Prierias.  "  We  may  judge  from  this,"  said  Luther, 
•'  what  those  must  be  who  fill  the  tenth  or  the  hun- 
dredth rank  !"* 

On  the  other  hand,  the  noble  firmness  of  the  Doctor 
of  Wittemberg  had  greatly  surprised  the  Cardinal  and 
all  his  courtiers.  Instead  of  a  poor  monk  suing  ab- 
jectly for  pardon,  they  beheld  a  man  of  independent 
spirit,  an  undaunted  Christian,  an  enlightened  Doctor, 
who  required  them  to  bring  proofs  to  support  their  un 
just  accusations,  and  courageously  defended  his  own 
doctrine.  The  inmates  of  Cajetan's  palace  exclaimed 
with  one  voice  against  the  pride,  obstinacy,  and  effront- 
ery of  the  heretic.  Luther  and  De  Vio  had  learned 
to  know  one  another,  and  both  were  preparing  them- 
selves for  a  second  interview. 

A  joyful  surprise  awaited  Luther  on  his  return  to  the 
convent  of  the  Carmelites.  The  Vicar-general  of  the 
order  of  the  Augustines,  his  friend,  his  father,  Staupitz, 
had  arrived  there.  Not  having  been  able  to  prevent 
Luther  from  going  to  Augsburg,  Staupitz  gave  his  friend 
a  new  and  affecting  proof  of  his  attachment,  by  joining 
him  in  that  city,  with  the  hope  of  rendering  him  some 
service.  This  excellent  man  foresaw  that  the  confer- 
ence with  the  Legate  would  have  momentous  results. 
His  fears  and  his  friendship  for  Luther  combined  to 
disturb  him.  It  was  a  balm  to  the  Reformer's  heart, 
after  that  trying  conference,  to  embrace  so  precious  a 
friend.  He  related  to  him  how  he  had  found  it  impos- 
sible to  obtain  a  satisfactory  answer,  and  how  he  had 
been  required  to  recant  without  even  an  attempt  to 
convict  him  of  error.  "  You  must  absolutely,"  said 
Staupitz,"  answer  the  Legate  in  writing." 

After  what  he  had  heard  of  this  first  interview,  Stau- 
pitz expected  no  good  result  from  any  succeeding  one. 
He  therefore  determined  upon  a  step  which  he  thought 
present  circumstances  made  necessary  ;  he  decided  to 
release  Luther  from  the  obligation  of  obedience  to  his 
order.  Staupitz  proposed,  by  this  means,  to  attain  two 
objects  :  if,  as  he  could  not  but  forebode,  Luther  should 
fail  in  his  undertaking,  this  proceeding  would  prevent 
the  disgrace  of  his  condemnation  from  being  reflected 
on  his  whole  order  ;  and  if  the  Cardinal  should  enjoin 
him  to  oblige  Luther  to  silence  or  to  a  recantation,  he 
would  have  an  excuse  for  non  compliance.!  This 
ceremony  was  gone  through  in  the  usual  forms.  Lu- 
ther clearly  perceived  all  that  it  foreboded.  His  mind 
was  deeply  affected  by  the  breaking  of  ties  that  he  had 
formed  in  the  enthusiasm  of  his  youth.  The  order  he 
had  chosen  now  rejected  him.  His  natural  protectors 
forsook  him.  Already  he  was  become  a  stranger  to 
his  brethren.  But  though  his  heart  was  oppressed  with 
sorrow  at  the  thought,  he  recovered  his  serenity  by 
looking  to  the  promises  of  a  faithful  God,  who  has 


*  L.  Epp.  1.  153. 

t  Darinn  ihn  Staupitz  von  dem  Kloster-Gehorsam  absolvirt 
(Math.  15.} 


said :  "  I  will  never  leave  thee  ;  I  will  never  forsake 
thee." 

The  Imperial  counsellors,  having  intimated  to  the 
Legate,  through  the  Bishop  of  Trent,  that  Luther  was 
provided  with  the  Emperor's  safe-conduct,  at  the  same 
time  cautioning  him  against  taking  any  steps  against 
the  Reformer's  person,  De  Vio,  in  a  violent  passion, 
abruptly  answered,  in  the  true  Romish  style :  "  Be  it 
so  :  but  I  shall  do  what  the  Pope  enjoins  me."*  We 
know  what  the  Pope's  injunctions  were. 

The  next  dayt  both  parties  prepared  for  a  second 
interview,  which  seemed  likely  to  be  decisive.  Luther's 
friends,  intending  to  accompany  him  to  the  Legate's 
palace,  repaired  to  the  convent  of  the  Carmelites. 
The  Dean  of  Trent  and  Peutinger,  both  imperial  coun- 
sellors, and  Staupitz,  arrived  one  after  the  other.  Be- 
side these,  Luther  soon  had  the  pleasure  of  welcoming 
the  knight,  Philip  von  Feilitzsch,  and  Doctor  Ruhel, 
counsellors  of  the  Elector,  who  had  received  orders 
from  their  master  to  be  present  at  the  conferences,  and 
to  watch  over  Luther's  personal  safety.  They  had  ar- 
rived at  Augsburg  on  the  previous  evening.  They 
were  commissioned  to  keep  close  to  him,  says  Ma- 
thesius,  as  the  knight,  Chlum,  stood  by  John  Huss  at 
Constance.  The  Doctor  also  took  a  notary  with  him, 
and,  accompanied  by  all  his  friends,  repaired  to  the  Le- 
gate's palace. 

As  they  set  out,  Staupitz  drew  close  to  Luther ;  he 
felt  all  that  his  friend  would  have  to  endure  ;  he  knevr 
that  if  his  eye  were  not  directed  toward  the  Lord,  who 
is  the  deliverer  of  his  people,  he  must  sink  under  his  trial : 
"  My  dear  brother,"  said  he,  solemnly,  "  ever  bear  in 
mind  that  you  entered  on  these  struggles  in  the  name 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."}:  It  was  thus  that  God 
encompassed  his  humble  servant  with  consolations  and 
encouragement. 

Luther,  on  arriving  at  the  Cardinal's,  found  there  a 
new  opponent :  this  was  the  prior  of  the  Dominicans 
of  Augsburg,  who  was  seated  beside  his  superior. 
Luther,  in  conformity  with  his  resolution,  had  put  his 
answer  in  writing.  The  customary  salutations  being 
;one  through,  he  read,  with  a  firm  voice,  the  following 
eclaration : 

"  I  declare  that  I  honour  the  holy  Roman  Church, 
and,  moreover,  that  I  will  continue  to  do  so.  I  have 
sought  after  truth  in  my  public  disputations,  and  what 
I  have  taught,  I,  to  this  hour,  regard  as  right,  true,  and 
Christian.  Nevertheless,  I  am  but  a  man,  and  I  may- 
be mistaken.  I  am  therefore  willing  to  be  instructed 
and  corrected  wherever  I  may  have  erred.  I  declare 
myself  ready  to  answer  by  word  of  mouth,  or  in  writ- 
ing, all  objections  and  all  charges  that  the  illustrious 
Legate  may  bring  against  me.  I  declare  myself  will- 
ing to  submit  my  theses  to  the  decision  of  the  four 
universities  of  Bale,  Fribourg  in  Brisgau,  Louvain,  and 
Paris,  and  to  retract  whatever  they  shall  declare  to  be 
erroneous.  In  a  word,  I  am  ready  to  do  all  that  can 
be  required  of  a  Christian  man.  But  I  solemnly  protest 
against  the  method  that  has  been  pursued  in  this  affair, 
and  against  that  strange  assumption  which  would  oblige 
me  to  retract,  without  having  convicted  me  of  er- 
ror. "$ 

Undoubtedly  nothing  could  be  more  consonant  with 
reason  than  these  proposals  of  Luther,  and  they  must 
lave  greatly  embarrassed  a  judge  who  had  been  pre- 
viously instructed  what  judgment  he  was  to  pronounce. 
The  Legate,  who  was  quite  unprepared  for  this  protest, 
endeavoured  to  hide  his  confusion,  by  affecting  a  laugh, 
nd  putting  on  the  semblance  of  mildness. 

"  This  protest,"  he  said  to  Luther,  with  a  smile,  "  is 


*  L.  Opp.  (L.)   xvii.  201. 

*  Seckend.p.  137. 


f  Wednesday,  18th  Oct. 
§  Loscher,  ii.  463. 


106 


THE  LEGATE'S  ANSWER— LUTHER'S  REQUEST. 


quite  unnecessary  ;  I  will  not  dispute  with  you  in 
public  or  in  private,  but  ray  wish  is  to  settle  the  whole 
affair  with  paternal  tenderness."* 

It  was  the  policy  of  the  Cardinal  to  lay  aside  the 
strict  forms  of  justice,  which  afford  protection  to  the 
accused,  and  to  treat  the  matter  as  an  affair  of  admi- 
nistration, between  a  superior  and  his  inferior ; — a  con- 
venient method,  as  it  leaves  the  fullest  scope  to  the 
exercise  of  arbitrary  power. 

Continuing  in  the  most  affectionate  tone : — "  My 
dear  friend,"  said  De  Vio,  "  I  beseech  you  to  abandon 
this  useless  design  ;  but  rather  return  to  a  sense  of 
duty,  acknowledge  the  truth,  and  behold  me  ready  to 
reconcile  you  to  the  Church,  and  to  the  supreme 
bishop.  .  .  .  Retract,  my  friend,  retract ;  such  is  the 
Pope's  will.  Whether  it  be  your  will  or  not,  matters 
little  ;  you  would  find  it  hard  to  kick  against  the 
pricks.  ..." 

Luther,  who  saw  himself  already  treated  as  a  rebel- 
lious child,  rejected  by  the  Church,  exclaimed  :  "  I 
cannot  retract !  but  I  offer  to  answer,  and  in  writing. 
We  had  enough  of  contention — yesterday." 

De  Vio  was  provoked  at  this  expression,  which  re- 
minded him  that  he  had  not  acted  with  sufficient  dis- 
cretion ;  but  he  recovered  himself,  and  said,  smiling : 

"Contention!  my  dear  son;  I  did  not  contend  with 
you.  I  am  as  little  inclined  as  yourself  to  contention  ; 
but  to  gratify  his  Highness  the  Elector  Frederic,  I  am 
ready  to  hear  you,  and  exhort  you  as  a  friend  and  a 
father." 

Luther  did  not  understand  why  the  Legate  should 
have  taken  umbrage  at  the  phrase  he  had  made  use  of ; 
for,  thought  he  to  himself,  if  I  had  not  wished  to  be 
courteous,  I  should  not  have  said  "  contend,"  but 
"  dispute"  and  "  quarrel,"  for  that  was  what  we  really 
did  yesterday. 

However,  De  Vio,  who  felt  that,  before  the  respecta- 
ble witnesses  present  atthe  conference,  he  must  at  least 
appear  to  convince  Luther,  and  endeavour  to  crush  him 
by  argument,  reverted  to  the  two  propositions  which 
he  had  pointed  out  as  fundamental  errors,  fully  resolved 
to  allow  the  Reformer  the  fewest  possible  opportunities 
of  reply.  Relying  on  Italian  volubility,  he  overwhelmed 
him  with  objections,  without  waiting  for  an  answer. 
Sometimes  he  sneered,  sometimes  he  chided  ;  he  de- 
claimed with  passionate  energy  ;  he  jumbled  together 
the  most  incongruous  things  ;  quoted  St.  Thomas  and 
Aristotle ;  exclaimed  and  raved  against  all  who  differed 
from  them  ;  and  broke  out  in  invective  against  Luther. 
Again  and  again  the  latter  attempted  to  reply  ;  but  the 
Legate  instantly  interrupted  him  and  overwhelmed  him 
with  threats.  "  Recant !  recant !"  was  the  burthen  of 
his  harangue  ;  he  stormed,  enacted  the  dictator,  and 
put  down  all  effort  to  reply. t  Staupitz  undertook  to 
stop  the  Legate.  "  Deign  to  allow  Doctor  Martin  time 
to  answer,"  said  he.  But  the  Legate  resumed  his 
harangue :  he  quoted  the  extravagances  and  the  opi- 
nions of  St.  Thomas  :  he  had  resolved  to  have  all  the 
talk  to  himself.  Unable  to  convince,  and  fearing  to 
strike,  he  would  at  least  stun  by  his  violence. 

Luther  and  Staupitz  clearly  perceived  that  they  must 
not  only  forego  all  hope  of  enlightening  De  Vio  by 
discussion,  but  also  of  making  any  useful  confession 
of  the  faith.  Luther,  therefore,  renewed  the  request 
he  had  made  at  the  beginning  of  the  interview,  and 
-which  the  Cardinal  had  then  eluded.  And  not  being 
permitted  to  speak,  he  requested  that  he  might  be 
allowed  at  least  to  put  his  answer  in  writing,  and  send 
it  to  the  Legate.  Stupitz  seconded  his  request ; 
several  of  the  company  present  joined  in  his  solicita- 

*  L.  Opp.(L.)  xvii.  181,209. 

t  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  181.  209.  Decies  fere  coepi  ut  loquerer, 
toties  ruraut  tonabat  et  solus  regnabat. 


tions  ;  and  Cajetan,  in  spite  of  his  dislike  to  written 
documents — for  he  remembered  that  such  documents 
are  lasting — at  length  consented.  They  separated. 
The  hope  which  had  been  conceived,  that  the  affair 
might  be  terminated  at  this  interview,  was  thus  ad- 
journed, and  it  was  necessary  to  await  the  result  of 
the  ensuing  conference. 

The  permission  granted  to  Luther,  by  the  general  of 
the  Dominicans,  to  take  time  for  reflection,  and  to  write 
his  answer  to  the  two  distinct  allegations  brought 
against  him  relating  to  the  indulgences — and  to  faith 
— was  undoubtedly  no  more  than  strict  justice  ;  and 
yet  we  must  give  De  Vio  credit  for  it,  as  a  mark  of 
moderation  and  impartiality. 

Luther  left  the  Cardinal's  palace,  rejoicing  that  his 
just  request  had  been  granted.  In  his  way  to,  and 
from,  the  palace,  he  was  the  object  of  general  atten- 
tion. Enlightened  men  were  interested  in  his  cause, 
as  if  they  themselves  were  about  to  stand  upon  their 
trial.  It  was  felt  that  it  was  the  cause  of  the  gospel, 
of  justice,  and  of  liberty,  which  was  then  to  be  pleaded 
at  Augsburg.  The  lower  orders  alone  sided  with 
Cajetan,  and  they,  doubtless,  gave  the  Reformer  sig- 
nificant proofs  of  their  disposition,  for  he  took  notice 
of  it.* 

It  daily  became  more  evident  that  the  Legate  would 
hear  nothing  from  him  save  the  words,  "  I  retract ;" 
and  those  words  Luther  was  determined  not  to  utter. 
What  issue  could  be  looked  for  in  so  unequal  a  strug- 
gle 1  How  could  it,  for  a  moment,  be  thought,  that 
the  whole  power  of  Rome,  arrayed  against  one  man, 
could  fail,  in  the  end,  to  crush  him  ?  Luther  saw  all 
this  ;  he  felt  the  pressure  of  that  heavy  hand  under 
which  he  had  dared  to  place  himself;  he  despaired  of 
ever  returning  to  Wittemberg,  of  seeing  his  dear 
Philip  again,  and  once  more  finding  himself  encircled 
by  those  noble  youths,  in  whose  hearts  he  so  delighted 
to  sow  the  seeds  of  everlasting  life.  He  saw  the  sen- 
tence of  excommunication  suspended  over  his  head, 
and  did  not  doubt  that  it  would  shortly  fall  upon  him.t 
These  forebodings  distressed  him,  but  did  not  cast  him 
down.  His  trust  in  God  was  not  shaken.  God  may, 
indeed,  destroy  the  instrument  he  has  hitherto  made 
use  of;  but  he  will  maintain  the  truth.  Whatever 
may  happen,  Luther  must  defend  it  to  the  last.  With 
these  feelings,  therefore,  he  began  to  prepare  the  pro- 
test he  intended  to  present  to  the  Legate.  It  seems 
he  devoted  to  that  purpose  a  part  of  the  13th  of  Oc- 
tober. 

On  the  following  day,  Luther  returned  to  the  Car- 
dinal's palace,  attended  by  the  counsellors  of  the  Elec- 
tor. The  Italians  crowded  round  him  as  usual,  and  a 
number  of  them  were  present  at  the  conference.  Lu- 
ther stepped  forward  and  presented  his  protest  to  the 
Legate.  The  Cardinal's  attendants  gazed  intently  on 
his  writing,  in  their  eyes,  so  daring  and  presumptuous. 
The  following  is  the  declaration  which  the  Doctor  of 
Wittemberg  handed  to  their  master  :t 

"  You  charge  me  upon  two  points.  And  first  you 
bring  against  me  the  constitution  of  Pope  Clement 
VI.,  in  which  it  is  asserted  that  the  treasure  of  indul- 
gences is  the  merit  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  of 
the  saints ;  an  assertion  which  I  deny  in  my  theses. 

"  Panormitanus,"  continues  he,  (applying  that  desig- 
nation to  Ives,  Bishop  of  Chartres,  toward  the  close 
of  the  eleventh  century,  and  author  of  the  famous  col- 
lection of  ecclesiastical  law  called  Panormia) — "  Pa- 
normitanus in  his  first  book  declares,  that,  in  what 
pertains  to  our  holy  faith,  not  only  a  General  Council, 
but  even  a  private  Christian;  is  above  the  Pope,  if  he 
can  adduce  clearer  testimony  from  the  Scriptures,  and 


*L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  186. 
t  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  187 


t  L  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  185. 


HIS  DECLARATION— THE  LEGATE'S  ANSWER— THE  CARDINAL  FOILED. 


107 


oetter  reasons.*  The  voice  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
is  far  above  the  voice  of  all  men,  by  whatever  names 
they  way  be  called. 

"  What  most  disturbs  me,  and  excites  my  mosl 
painful  reflections,  is,  that  this  constitution  contains  in 
it  many  things  altogether  contrary  to  the  truth.  First, 
it  asserts  that  the  merits  of  the  saints  form  a  treasury  ; 
whilst  the  whole  volume  of  Scripture  testifies  that  God 
rewards  us  far  more  richly  than  we  have  deserved 
The  prophet  exclaims  :  «  Enter  not  into  judgment  with 
thv  servant,  O  Lord,  for  in  thy  sight  shall  no  mar 
living  be  justified.'!  '  Woe  to  man,'  says  St.  Augus- 
tine, '  however  honourable  and  praise- worthy  his  life 
may  be,  if  God  were  to  pronounce  a  judgment  upon 
him  from  which  mercy  should  be  excluded. 't 

"  Thus,  then,  the  saints  are  not  saved  by  their 
merits,  but  solely  by  the  mercy  of  God,  as  I  have 
declared.  I  maintain  this,  and  I  take  my  stand  upon 
it.  The  words  of  Holy  Scripture,  which  teach  us 
that  the  saints  have  not  merit  enough,  ought  to  be 
more  regarded  than  those  words  of  men,  which  affirm 
that  they  have  merits  in  superabundance.  For  the 
Pope  is  not  above,  but  under  the  authority  of,  the  word 
of  God." 

Luther  did  not  stop  there :  he  showed,  that  if  the 
indulgences  could  not  consist  in  the  merits  of  the 
saints,  neither  could  they  consist  in  the  merits  of 
Christ.  He  proved  that  the  indulgences  were  barren 
and  unprofitable,  since  they  had  no  other  effect  than 
to  excuse  men  from  good  works,  such  as  prayer,  alms, 
<£c.  "  No,"  he  exclaimed,  "  the  righteousness  of 
Christ  Jesus  is  not  a  treasure  of  indulgences,  excusing 
us  from  good  works,  but  a  treasure  of  grace  quicken 
ing  us  to  perform  them.  The  righteousness  of  Christ 
is  applied  to  the  faithful,  not  by  indulgences,  not  by 
the  keys,  but  by  the  Holy  Ghost  alone,  and  not  by  the 
Pope.  If  any  one  holds  an  opinion  resting  on  better 
foundations  than  mine,"  added  he,  in  concluding  what 
referred  to  this  first  point,  "  let  him  make  it  known, 
and  then  will  I  retract." 

<4 1  have  affirmed,"  said  he,  adverting  to  the  second 
charge,  "  that  no  man  can  be  justified  before  God 
except  by  faith ;  so  that  it  is  necessary  that  a  man 
should  believe  with  a  perfect  confidence  that  he  has 
received  pardon.  To  doubt  of  this  grace  is  to  reject 
it.  The  faith  of  the  just  is  his  righteousness  and  his 
life."$ 

Luther  supported  his  proposition  by  many  texts  from 
Scripture. 

44  Deign,  then,  to  intercede  in  my  behalf  with  our 
most  holy  lord  the  Pope,  Leo  X.,  that  he  may  not  treat 
me  with  so  much  severity.  My  soul  seeks  the  light 
of  truth.  I  am  not  so  proud,  nor  so  set  upon  vain- 
glory, that  I  should  be  ashamed  to  retract,  if  I  had 
taught  what  is  not  agreeable  to  the  truth.  My  great- 
est joy  will  be  to  see  the  triumph  of  that  doctrine 
which  is  according  to  the  mind  of  God.  Only  let  me 
not  be  forced  to  do  anything  that  is  against  my  con- 
science." 

The  Legate  took  the  declaration  which  Luther  pre- 
sented, and,  after  looking  it  over,  said  coolly :  '*  You 
have  wasted  many  words,  and  written  what  is  little  to 
the  purpose;  you  have  replied  very  foolishly  to  the 
two  charges  brought  against  you,  and  you  have  covered 
your  paper  with  numerous  passages  from  the  holy 
Scriptures  that  have  no  reference  whatever  to  the  sub- 
ject.1' De  Vio,  then,  with  a  contemptuous  gesture, 

*  Ostendit  in  materia  fidei  non  modo  generate  concilium 
ease  super  papam  sed  etiam  quemlibet  fidelium,  si  melioribus 
nitatur  auctoritate  et  ratione  quam  papa.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  i. 
p.  209.) 

t  Ps.  143.  2  {  Confess  ix. 

^  Justitia  justi  et  vita  ejus,  est  fides  ejus.    (L,  Opp.  lat.  i. 

p,  an.) 


threw  down  Luther's  protest,  as  if  unworthy  of  his 
regard  ;  and,  resuming  the  tone  which  had  in  some 
degree  been  successful  in  the  last  interview,  he  re- 
newed the  cry  that  Luther  must  retract.  The  latter 
was  inflexible.  "  Brother !  brother!"  cried  De  Vio, 
in  Italian,  "  when  you  were  last  here  you  were  very 
docile  ;  but,  to-day,  you  are  altogether  intractable." 
Then  the  Cardinal  began  a  long  speech,  borrowed  from 
the  writings  of  St.  Thomas ;  he  again  extolled  with 
all  his  might  the  constitution  of  Clement  VI.  ;  he  per- 
sisted in  maintaining  that,  in  virtue  of  that  constitution, 
the  very  merits  of  Christ  are  distributed  to  the  faithful 
by  means  of  the  indulgences  :  he  thought  he  had 
silenced  Luther.  The  latter,  at  times,  attempted  to 
speak  ;  but  De  Vio  scolded  and  thundered  on  without 
intermission  ;  and,  as  on  the  previous  occasion,  claimed 
the  sole  right  to  be  heard. 

This  manner  of  proceeding  had,  on  the  first  occa- 
sion, been  in  some  measure  successful ;  but  Luther 
was  not  a  man  to  bear  with  it  a  second  time.  His 
indignation  at  length  broke  forth,  and  it  was  now  his 
turn  to  astonish  the  bystanders,  who  thought  him 
already  conquered  by  the  prelate's  volubility.  He 
raised  his  sonorous  voice :  he  took  up  the  Cardinal's 
favourite  objection,  and  made  him  pay  dearly  for  his 
temerity  in  entering  the  lists  against  him.  •"  Retract ! 
retract !"  repeated  De  Vio,  showing  him  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  Pope.  44  Well !"  said  Luther,  t4  only  prove 
to  me,  by  this  constitution,  that  the  treasure  of  in- 
dulgences is  the  very  merit  of  Christ,  and  I  consent 
to  retract,  according  to  the  will  and  pleasure  of  your 
eminence  ..." 

The  Italians,  who  had  not  expected  this,  exulted  at 
his  words,  and  could  not  repress  their  joy  at  seeing  the 
adversary  at  length  taken  in  the  toils.  As  to  the  Car- 
dinal, he  was  like  one  beside  himself;  he  laughed 
aloud — but  it  was  an  indignant  and  angry  laugh  ;  he 
stepped  forward,  took  up  the  volume  containing  the 
famous  constitution,  turned  over  the  leaves,  found  the 
passage,  and,  elated  with  the  advantage  he  thought  he 
had  secured,  read  it  aloud  with  breathless  eagerness.* 
The  Italians  were  now  triumphant ;  the  counsellors 
of  the  Elector  were  anxious  and  embarrassed  ;  Luther 
waited  the  right  moment.  At  last,  when  the  Cardinal 
came  to  these  words,  "The  Lord  Jesus  Christ  acquired 
this  treasure  by  his  sufferings,"  Luther  interrupted 
him  ;  •'  Most  worthy  father,",  said  he,  "  deign  to  con- 
sider this  passage  well,  and  to  meditate  upon  it  care- 
fully: 'He  has  acquired. 't  Christ  has  acquired  a 
treasure  by  his  merits ;  the  merits  then  are  not  the 
treasure  ;  for,  to  speak  with  philosophic  precision,  the 
cause  is  a  different  thing  from  that  which  flows  from 
it.  The  merits  of  Christ  have  acquired  for  the  Pope 
the  power  of  giving  such  indulgences  to  the  people  ; 
but  they  are  not  the  very  merits  of  the  Lord  which 
the  Pope  distributes.  Thus,  then,  my  conclusion  is 
(rue,  and  this  constitution,  which  you  so  loudly  appeal 
to,  testifies  with  me  to  the  truth  which  I  declare." 

De  Vio  still  held  the  book  in  his  hand  ;  his  eyes  still 
rested  on  the  fatal  passage  :  the  inference  was  unan- 
swerable. Behold  him  taken  in  the  very  net  he  had 
spread  for  another ;  and  Luther,  with  a  strong  hand, 
icld  him  fast,  to  the  utter  astonishment  of  the  Italian 
courtiers  who  surrounded  him.  The  Legate  would 
mve  eluded  the  difficulty ;  but  all  retreat  was  closed. 
Prom  an  early  stage  of  the  discussion  he  had  given 
up  the  testimony  of  the  Scriptures,  and  that  of  the 
Fathers  ;  and  had  sheltered  himself  under  this  extrava- 
gance of  Clement  VI.,  and  now  he  was  taken  in  his 
strong  hold.  Still  he  was  too  artful  to  betray  his  em- 
jarrassment.  In  order  to  conceal  his  confusion,  the 

*  Legit  fervens  et  anhelans.    (L.  Epp.  i.,  p.  146.) 
t  Acquisivit.     (L.  Epp.  i.,  p.  145.) 


103 


RUMOURS— DE  VIO  AND  STAUPITZ— LUTHER  TO  SPALATIN. 


Cardinal  abruptly  changed  the  subject,  and  vehemently 
attacked  Luther  on  other  points  of  difference.  Luther, 
who  detected  this  skilful  manoeuvre,  drew  tighter  on 
every  side  the  net  in  which  he  had  taken  his  opponent, 
making  it  impossible  for  him  to  escape :  "  Most 
reverend  father,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  irony,  veiled 
under  the  semblance  of  respect,  "  your  Eminence 
must  not  suppose  that  we  Germans  are  altogether 
ignorant  of  grammar :  to  be  a  treasure,  and  to  purchase 
a  treasure,  are  two  very  different  things." 

"  Retract !"  exclaimed  De  Vio,  "  retract !  or  I  will 
send  you  to  Rome,  there  to  appear  before  the  judges 
commissioned  to  take  cognizance  of  your  cause.  I 
will  excommunicate  you,  and  all  your  partizans,  and 
all  who  shall  at  any  time  countenance  you  ;  and  will 
cast  them  out  of  the  Church.  Full  power  has  been 
given  to  me  for  this  purpose  by  the  holy  apostolic  see.* 
Think  you,  that  your  protectors  will  stop  me?  Do 
you  imagine  that  the  Pope  can  fear  Germany  1  The 
Pope's  little  finger  is  stronger  than  all  the  princes  of 
Germany  put  together."! 

"  Condescend,"  replied  Luther,  "  to  forward  the 
written  answer  I  have  given  you  to  Pope  Leo  X.,  with 
my  most  humble  prayers." 

The  Legate,  at  these  words,  glad  to  have  a  momen- 
tary respite,  again  assumed  an  air  of  dignity,  and  turn- 
ing to  Luther,  said  in  a  haughty  and  angry  tone  : 
"  Retract,  or  return  no  more  !"t 
The  expression  struck  Luther.     He  must  now  an- 
swer in  another  manner  than  by  words.     He  made  an 
obeisance   and   withdrew.      The  counsellors   of  the 
Elector  followed,  and  the  Cardinal  and  his  Italians, 
left  alone,  looked  at  each  other  utterly  confounded  at 
the  result  of  the  discussion. 

Luther  and  De  Vio  never  met  again  :  but  the  Re- 
former had  made  a  powerful  impression  on  the  Legate, 
which  was  never  entirely  effaced.  What  Luther  had 
said  concerning  faith,  what  De  Vio  read  in  the  subse- 
quent writings  of  the  Doctor  of  Wittemberg,  consider- 
ably changed  the  Cardinal's  sentiments.  The  theolo- 
gians of  Rome  saw  with  surprise  hnd  dissatisfaction 
the  opinions  touching  justification,  which  he  brought 
forward  in  his  commentary  upon  the  Epistle  to  the 
Romans.  The  Reformation  did  not  recede,  nor  did 
the  Reformer  retract ;  but  his  judge,  who  had  so  re- 
peatedly commanded  him  to  retract,  changed  his  views 
— and  himself,  indirectly  retracted  his  errors.  Thus 
the  unshaken  fidelity  of*  the  Reformer  was  crowned 
with  reward. 

Luther  returned  to  the  monastery  where  he  had  been 
a  guest.  He  had  stood  firm  :  he  had  borne  witness  to 
the  truth  ;  he  had  done  what  it  was  his  duty  to  do  ; 
God  would  do  the  rest.  His  heart  overflowed  with 
joy  and  peace. 

However,  the  tidings  that  were  brought  him  were 
not  encouraging  ;  a  rumour  prevailed  throughout  the 
city  that,  if  he  did  not  retract,  he  was  to  be  seized  and 
thrown  into  a  dungeon.  The  Vicar-general  of  the 
order,  Staupitz  himself,  <J  it  was  asserted,  had  given  his 
consent  to  this.  Luther  could  not  believe  that  his 
friend  would  act  in  this  manner.  No  !  Staupitz  could 
not  betray  him  !  As  to  the  designs  of  the  Cardinal, 
his  own  words  had  thrown  sufficient  light  upon  them 
Yet  Luther  would  not  flee  from  the  danger  ;  his  life, 
as  well  as  the  truth  itself,  was  in  powerful  keeping 
and,  in  spite  of  all  these  threatenings,  he  determined 
not  to  leave  Augsburg. 

The  Legate  soon  repented  of  his  violence  ;  he  felt 
that  he  had  forgotten  the  part  it  was  his  policy  to  play 
and  wished  to  resume  it.  Hardly  had  Staupitz  dined 


for  the  interview  had  taken  place  in  the  morning  —  and 

dinner  was  served  at  noon,)  when  he  received  a  mes- 
age  from  the  Cardinal,  inviting  him  to  his  house. 

Staupitz  repaired  thither,  accompanied  by  Wenceslaus 
aink.*  The  Vicar-general  found  the  Legate  alone 

with  Serra  Longa.  De  Vio  immediately  advanced 
oward  Staupitz,  and  addressed  him  in  the  gentlest 

manner  —  "  Try  now,"  said  he,  "to  prevail  upon  your 

monk,   and   induce   him    to  retract.      Really,  I  am 
leased  with  him  on  the  whole,  and  he  has  no  better 
riend  than  myself."f 
STAUPITZ.  —  "  I  have  already  done  my  endeavours, 

and  I  will  now  again  advise  him  humbly  to  submit  to 
he  church." 

DE  Vio.  —  "  You  must  give  him  proper  answers  to 
he  arguments  that  he  adduces  from  the  Scriptures." 
STAUPITZ.  —  "  I  must  confess,  my  lord,  that  that  is 
>eyond  my  power  ;  for  Doctor  Martin  is  more  than  a 

match  for  me,  both  in  acuteness  and  in  knowledge  of 
he  Scriptures." 
The  Cardinal  smiled,  we  may  imagine,  at  the  Vicar- 

general's  frank  confession.      His    own    experience, 

moreover,  had  taught  him  the  difficulty  of  convicting 
.lUther  of  error.  He  continued  addressing  himself  to 

Link  as  well  as  to  Staupitz  : 

"  Are  you  aware  that,  as  favourers  of  heretical  doc- 
rine,  you  are  yourselves  exposed  to  the  penalties  of 
he  church  ?" 

STAUPITZ.  —  "  Deign  to  resume  the  conference  with 
l.uther,  and  open  a  public  disputation  on  the  contro- 

verted points." 

DE  Vio,  alarmed  at  the  thought  of  such  a  measure, 

exclaimed  —  "  I  will  argue  no  more  with  the  beast. 

Those  eyes  of  his  are  too  deeply  set  in  his  head,  and 
us  looks  have  too  much  meaning  in  them."t 

Staupitz  finally  obtained  the  Cardinal's  promise  that 
ic  would  state  in  writing  what  he  required  Luther  to 

retract. 

The  Vicar-general  then  returned  to  Luther.    In  some 

degree  shaken  by  the  representations  of  the  Cardinal, 
ic  endeavoured  to  lead  him  to  some  concession.  "  Re- 
ute  them,"  said  Luther  ;  "  the  Scriptures  I  have 
irought  forward."  "  That  is  beyond  my  power,"  said 

Staupitz.      "  Very  well,"  replied  Luther,  "  my  con- 

science will  not  allow  me  to  retract  until  the  passages 

of  Scripture  can  be  shown  to  have  another  meaning. 

And  so,"  continued  he,  "  the  Cardinal  professes  his 

willingness  to  settle  the  affair  in  this  way,  without  sub- 

jecting me  to  disgrace  or  detriment.  Ah  !  these  are 
fine  Italian  words,  but,  in  plain  German,  they  mean 

nothing  less  than  my  everlasting  shame  and  ruin. 
What  better  can  he  look  for  who,  from  fear  of  man,  and 

against  his  own  conscience,  denies  the  truth  1"^ 

Staupitz  desisted  ;  he  merely  informed  Luther  that 
the  Cardinal  had  consented  to  send  him  in  writing  the 
points  on  which  he  required  his  recantation.  He 
then,  doubtlesss,  acquainted  him  with  his  intention  of 
leaving  Augsburg,  where  he  had  nothing  more  to  do. 
Luther  communicated  to  him  a  purpose  he  had  formed 
for  comforting  and  strengthening  their  souls.  Stau- 
pitz promised  to  return,  and  they  separated  for  a  short 
time. 

Left  alone  in  his  cell,  Luther's  thoughts  turned  to- 
ward the  friends  most  dear  to  his  heart.  His  thoughts 
wandered  to  Weimar  and  to  Wittemberg.  He  wished 
to  tell  the  Elector  what  was  passing,  and  thinking  there 
might  be  impropriety  in  addressing  the  Prince  in  per 
son,  he  wrote  to  Spalatin,  and  begged  the  chaplin  to 
let  his  master  know  the  state  of  his  affairs.  He  related 


*  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  197. 
J  Revoca  aut  non  revertere. 
i  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  210. 


f  L.  Opp.  (W;)  xxii.  1331. 
(L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  202.) 


Ibid.  p.  204. 


p  185. 


f  Ego  nolo  amplius  cum  hac  bestia  disputare.  Habet  cnim 
profundos  oculos  et  mirabiles  speculationes  in  capite  suo 
(Myconius,  p.  33.) 

§  L.  Opp,  (L.)  xvii.  p.  120. 


LUTHER  TO  CARLSTADT— THE  COMMUNION— DEPARTURE  OF  STAUPITZ.    109 


to  him  all  that  had  passed,  even  to  the  promise  the 
Legate  had  just  made,  to  send  a  statement  of  the  con- 
troverted points  in  writing.  He  concluded  by  saying  :* 
"  Thus  the  matter  stands ;  but  I  have  neither  hope 
nor  confidence  in  the  Legate.  I  am  resolved  not  to 
retract  a  single  syllable.  I  shall  publish  the  answer 
that  I  have  put  into  his  hands,  in  order  that,  if  he  pro- 
ceed to  violence,  he  may  be  covered  with  shame  in 
the  sight  of  all  Christendom." 

The  Doctor  next  availed  himself  of  the  few  moments 
that  were  still  remaining,  to  send  tidings  of  himself  to 
his  friends  at  Wittemberg. 

"  Peace  and  happiness  !"  he  wrote  to  Doctor  Carl- 
stadt.  "  Accept  these  few  words  in  place  of  a  long 
letter :  for  time  and  events  are  pressing.  Another 
time,  I  hope  to  write  to  you  and  others  more  fully. 
For  three  days  my  affair  has  been  in  hand,  and  things 
are  at  such  a  point,  that  I  have  no  longer  a  hope  of 
seeing  you  again,  and  have  nothing  to  expect  but  ex- 
communication. The  Legate  will  not  allow  me  to 
defend  myself,  either  publicly  or  in  private.  His  wish, 
he  tells  me,  is  to  act  the  part  of  a  father,  not  of  a  judge  ; 
and  yet  he  will  hear  nothing  from  me  but  the  words  : 
'  I  retract,  and  acknowledge  that  I  have  been  in  error.' 
And  those  are  words  I  will  not  utter  !  The  peril  in 
which  my  cause  is  placed,  is  so  much  the  greater,  be- 
cause it  is  judged  not  only  by  implacable  enemies,  but 
even  by  men  incapable  of  understanding  its  merits. 
However,  the  Lord  God  lives  and  reigns  :  to  His  keep- 
ing I  commend  myself ;  and  I  doubt  not  that  in  an- 
swer to  the  prayers  of  pious  souls,  He  will  send  me 
deliverance  :  "  I  seem  to  feel  that  prayer  is  being  made 
for  me  ! 

"  Either  I  shall  return  to  you  unhurt ;  or  else,  under 
a  sentence  of  excommunication,  I  must  seek  shelter 
elsewhere. 

"  Whatever  may  happen  to  me,  quit  yourself  man- 
fully ;  stand  fast,  and  glorify  Christ  joyfully  and  with- 
out fear.  .  .  . 

"  The  Cardinal  always  styles  me  'his  dear  son.'  I 
know  how  little  that  means.  Still  I  am  persuaded  I 
should  be  to  him  one  of  the  dearest  and  most  accepta- 
ble of  men,  if  I  would  but  pronounce  the  single  word  : 
*  RevocoS  But  I  will  not  become  a  heretic,  by  renounc- 
ing the  faith  that  has  made  me  a  Christian.  Better  far 
would  it  be— to  be  cast  out  and  accursed,  and  perish 
at  the  stake. 

"  Farewell  my  dear  Doctor  !  show  this  letter  to  our 
theologians — to  Amsdorff,  to  Philip,  to  Otten,  and  to 
others,  in  order  that  you  may  pray  for  me,  and  also  for 
yourselves  ;  for  it  is  your  cause  also  that  is  now  try- 
ing. It  is  the  cause  of  the  faith  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
of  the  grace  of  God."f 

Sweet  thought !  which  ever  fills  with  consolation 
and  peace  the  hearts  of  those  who  have  borne  witness 
to  Jesus  Christ,  to  his  divinity  and  grace,  when  the 
world  rains  upon  them  from  all  sides  its  censures,  its 
interdicts,  and  its  scorn  !  "  Our  cause  is  the  cause  of 
faith  in  the  Lord."  And  what  sweetness  also  in  the 
conviction  expressed  by  the  Reformer :  "  I  seem  to 
feel  that  I  am  prayed  for."  The  Reformation  was  a 
work  of  prayer  and  of  piety  toward  God.  The  struggle 
between  Luther  and  De  Vio  was,  in  truth,  one  of  a 
religious  principle,  then  re-appearing  in  full  vigour, 
with  the  expiring  strength  of  the  disputatious  dialectics 
of  the  middle  age. 

Thus  did  Luther  converse  with  his  absent  friends. 
Staupitz  soon  returned  ;  Doctor  Ruhel  and  the  knight, 
Feilitzch,  both  of  them  sent  by  the  Elector,  also  visited 
him,  after  taking  leave  of  the  Cardinal.  Some  other 
friends  of  the  Gospel  joined  them  ;  and  Luther,  seeing 


L.  Epp.  149. 


f  L.  Epp.  i.  159. 


thus  assembled  together  these  noble-minded  men,  who 
were  soon  to  be  parted  from  each  other,  and  from  whom 
he  himself  was  about,  perhaps,  to  be  for  ever  separated, 
proposed  that  they  should  join  in  celebrating  the  Lord's 
Supper.  The  proposal  was  agreed  to ;  and  this  little 
assembly  of  the  faithful  partook  of  the  body  and  blood 
of  Christ.  What  must  have  been  the  feelings  of  the 
Reformer's  friends  at  the  moment  when,  as  they  cele- 
brated with  him  the  Lord's  Supper,  they  reflected  that 
this  was  perhaps  the  last  time  that  this  privilege  would 
be  allowed  him.  What  joy  and  love  must  have  filled 
the  heart  of  Luther  in  the  consciousness  of  being  so 
graciously  accepted  by  his  Master,  at  the  very  moment 
when  men  were  rejecting  him.  How  solemn  must 
have  been  that  supper !  How  sacred  that  evening  !* 

The  next  day,t  Luther  expected  to  receive  the  in- 
structions which  the  Legate  was  to  send  to  him. 

But  not  receiving  any  message  from  him,  he  request- 
ed his  friend  Doctor  Wenceslaus  Link,  to  wait  upon 
the  Cardinal.  De  Vio  received  Link  most  affably,  and 
assured  him  that  he  wished  to  take  the  most  friendly 
course.  "  I  no  longer  consider  Doctor  Martin  Luther 
a  heretic,"  added  he  ;  "I  will  not,  at  this  time,  ex- 
communicate him,  unless  I  receive  further  instructions 
from  Rome  :  for  I  have  sent  his  answer  to  the  Pope 
by  an  express."  Then,  to  give  a  proof  of  his  good 
intentions  towards  him,  he  added  :  "If  Doctor  Luther 
would  only  retract  on  the  subject  of  indulgences,  the 
business  would  soon  be  concluded  ;  for,  as  to  faith  in 
the  sacraments,  that  is  an  article  that  every  one  may 
interpret  and  understand  in  his  own  way."  Spalatin, 
who  relates  this,  adds  this  sarcastic  but  just  observa- 
tion :  "  Whence,  it  is  evident,  that  Rome  attaches  more 
importance  to  money  than  to  our  holy  faith  and  the  sal- 
vation of  souls. "t 

Link  returned  to  Luther.  He  found  Staupitz  there, 
and  gave  an  account  of  his  visit.  When  he  mentioned 
the  unexpected  concession  of  the  Legate :  "  It  would 
have  been  well,"  said  Staupitz,  "  if  Doctor  Wenceslaus 
had  had  a  notary  and  witnesses  with  him,  to  have  taken 
down  that  speech  in  writing;  for,  if  such  a  proposal 
were  made  public,  it  would  do  no  small  prejudice  to 
the  cause  of  these  Romans." 

However,  the  more  the  Roman  prelate  softened  his 
tone,  the  more  confirmed  the  honest  Germans  were  in 
their  distrust  of  him.  Several  of  those  trustworthy 
persons  to  whom  Luther  had  been  recommended  held 
a  council  together  :  "  The  Legate,"  said  they,  "  is 
preparing  some  mischief,  through  this  courier  he  speaks 
of,  and  it  is  much  to  be  feared  that  you  will  all  be 
seized  and  cast  into  prison." 

Staupitz  and  Wenceslaus,  therefore,  determined  to 
leave  the  town  ;  they  embraced  Luther,  who  persisted 
in  remaining  at  Augsburg,  and  directed  their  course  by 
two  different  roads  to  Nuremberg,  not  without  many 
misgivings  as  to  the  fate  of  the  magnanimous  witness 
whom  they  were  leaving  behind  them. 

Sunday  passed  very  quietly.  Luther  waited  in  vain 
for  a  message  from  the  Legate  :  the  latter  sent  none. 
He  then  determined  to  write  to  him.  Staupitz  and 
Link,  before  they  set  out,  had  begged  him  to  treat  the 
Cardinal  with  all  possible  respect.  Luther  had  not 
yet  made  trial  of  Rome  and  her  envoys  ;  it  was  his  first 
experience.  If  his  humble  deference  did  not  succeed, 
he  would  know  what  to  expect  in  future.  But  now, 
at  least,  he  must  make  trial  of  it.  As  to  his  own  share 
in  the  matter,  not  a  day  passed  in  which  he  did  not 
condemn  himself,  and  mourn  over  his  proneness  to  use 
expressions  stronger  than  the  occasion  required  ;  why 
should  he  not  confess  to  the  Cardinal  what  he  every 


*  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  178. 
t  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  182 


t  Sunday,  15th  Oct. 


110    LETTER  TO  THE  LEGATE— LUTHER  AND  THE  LEGATE— LUTHER'S  LETTER. 


day  confessed  to  God  1  Besides,  Luther's  heart  was 
easily  affected  by  kindness,  and  he  suspected  no  evil 
He  therefore  took  up  his  pen,  and,  with  a  feeling  of 
respectful  goodwill,  wrote  to  the  Cardinal  as  follows  :* 

"  My  very  worthy  father  in  God,  I  approach  you 
once  more,  not  personally,  but  by  letter,  entreating  your 
fatherly  kindness  graciously  to  listen  to  me. 

"  The  reverend  Doctor  Staupitz.  my  very  dear  father 
in  Christ,  has  advised  me  to  humble  myself,  to  mis- 
trust my  own  judgment,  and  to  submit  my  opinion  to 
the  judgment  of  pious  and  impartial  men.  He  also 
commended  your  fatherly  kindness,  and  has  fully  con- 
vinced me  of  your  friendly  disposition  towards  me. 
This  intelligence  has  filled  me  with  joy. 

"  Now,  therefore,  most  worthy  father,  I  confess,  as  I 
have  already  done  before,  that  as  I  have  not  shewn, 
(as  they  tell  me,)  sufficient  diffidence,  gentleness,  and 
respect  for  the  name  of  the  sovereign  pontiff ;  and 
though  my  opponents  have  given  me  great  provocation, 
I  now  see  that  it  would  have  been  better  to  have  con- 
ducted my  cause  more  meekly,  courteously,  and  rever- 
ently, and  not  to  have  answered  a  fool  according  to  his 
folly,  lest  I  should  be  like  unto  him. 

"  This  grieves  me  very  much,  and  I  ask  pardon.  I 
will  publicly  acknowledge  it  from  the  pulpit,  as  indeed 
I  have  often  done  before.  I  will  endeavour,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  to  speak  differently.  I  will  do  more  :  I 
am  ready  to  promise,  of  my  own  accord,  not  again  to 
say  a  single  word  on  the  subject  of  indulgences,  if  this 
business  is  arranged.  But  then,  let  those  also  who  led 
me  to  begin  it  be  compelled,  on  their  part,  to  moderate 
their  discourses,  or  to  be  silent. 

"  So  far  as  the  truth  of  what  I  have  taught  is  con- 
cerned, the  authority  of  St.  Thomas,  and  of  the  other 
doctors,  cannot  satisfy  me.  I  must  hear,  (if  I  am  worthy 
to  do  so,)  the  voice  of  the  spouse,  which  is  the  Church. 
For  it  is  certain  she  hears  the  voice  of  the  bridegroom, 
Christ. 

"  I,  therefore,  in  all  humility  and  submission,  entreat 
you  to  refer  this  matter,  hitherto  so  unsettled,  to  our 
most  holy  lord,  Leo  X.,  in  order  that  the  Church  may 
decide,  pronounce,  and  ordain,  and  that  those  who  shall 
be  called  on  to  retract,  may  do  so  with  a  good  con- 
science, or  believe  in  all  sincerity." 

In  reading  this  letter,  another  reflection  occurs  to  us. 
We  see  that  Luther  did  not  act  upon  a  pre-conceived 
plan,  but  solely  in  obedience  to  convictions  successively 
impressed  upon  his  mind  and  heart.  Far  removed  from 
any  settled  scheme  or  preconcerted  opposition,  he  was 
sometimes,  without  suspecting  it,  in  contradiction  with 
himself ;  earlier  convictions  were  still  standing  in  his 
mind,  although  their  opposites  had  already  found  a 
place  there.  And  yet  it  is  in  these  characters  of  truth 
and  sincerity  that  some  have  sought  for  objections  to 
the  Reformation  ;  it  is  because  it  followed  that  neces- 
sary law  of  progression,  imposed  in  everything  on  the 
human  mind,  that  some  have  written  the  history  of  its 
variations  ;  it  is  in  those  very  features  that  mark  its 
sincerity,  and  make  it  honourable,  that  one  of  eminent 
genius  has  seen  the  most  powerful  objections  against 
it.t.  .  Strange  perverseness  of  the  rnind  of  man  ! 

Luther  received  no  answer  to  his  letter.  Cajetan, 
and  all  his  courtiers,  after  being  so  violently  agitated, 
had  suddenly  become  motionless.  What  could  be  the 
reason  of  this  1  Might  it  not  be  that  calm  which  pre- 
cedes a  storm  1  Some  viewed  the  delay  in  the  light 
in  which  Pallivicini  has  represented  it.  "  The  Cardi- 
nal was  waiting,"  says  he,  "  till  the  proud  monk,  like 
an  inflated  bellows,  should  gradually  lose  the  wind 
which  filled  him,  and  become  humble."}  Those  who 

*  This  letter  bears  date  the  17th  October. 

\  Bossnet,  Hist,  des  Variations.     (Liv.  i.  p.  25,  &c.) 

$  Ut  follis  ille  ventosa  elatione  distantus.      ...  (p.  40.) 


thought  they  better  understood  the  ways  of  Rome,  fel 
sure  that  the  legate  intended  to  arrest  Luther,  but  thatt 
not  daring  to  proceed  to  such  extremities  on  his  own 
authority,  on  account  of  the  imperial  safe-conduct,  he 
was  awaiting  an  answer  from  Rome  to  his  message. 
Others  could  not  believe  that  the  cardinal  would  wait 
so  long.  "  The  Emperor  Maximilian,"  they  said,  (and 
in  this  they  might  speak  the  truth,)  will  no  more  scru- 
ple to  give  up  Luther,  for  trial  by  the  cuhrch,  notwith- 
standing his  safe-conduct,  than  Sigismund  did  to  sur- 
render Huss  to  the  Council  of  Constance.  The  le- 
gate is,  perhaps,  now  in  communication  with  the  em- 
peror. The  sanction  of  Maximilian  may  every  hour 
be  expected.  The  more  opposed  he  was  before  to  the 
pope,  the  more  does  he  seem  to  seek  to  please  him — 
and  so  it  will  be,  till  the  crown  of  the  empire  encircles 
his  grandson's  brows."  Not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost. 
"  Draw  up  an  appeal  to  the  pope,"  said  the  kind- 
hearted  men  who  surrounded  Luther — "  draw  up  an 
appeal  to  the  pope,  and  leave  Augsburg  without  de- 
lay." 

Luther,  whose  presence  in  that  city,  had,  for  the 
last  four  days,  been  utterly  useless,  and  who  had  suf- 
ficiently proved,  by  remaining,  after  the  departure  of 
the  Saxon  councillors,  sent  by  the  elector  to  watch  over 
his  safety,  that  he  feared  nothing,  and  was  ready  to  an- 
swer for  himself,  yielded,  at  last,  to  the  wishes  of  his 
friends.  But  first  he  resolved  to  inform  de  Vio  of  his 
intention.  He  wrote  to  him  on  the  Tuesday,  the  eve 
of  his  departure.  This  letter  was  in  a  bolder  strain 
than  the  former.  Seeing  his  advances  were  unavailing, 
Luther  seems  to  erect  himself  in  the  consciousness  of 
his  right,  and  of  the  injustice  of  his  enemies. 

"  Most  worthy  Father  in  God,"  he  wrote  to  de  Vio, 
"  your  paternal  kindness  has  witnessed,  yea,  witnessed 
and  sufficiently  acknowledged,  rny  obedience.  I  have 
undertaken  a  long  journey,  in  the  midst  of  dangers,  in 
great  weakness  of  body — and,  notwithstanding  my  ex- 
treme poverty,  at  the  command  of  our  most  holy  lord, 
Leo  X. — I  have  personally  appeared  before  your  emi- 
nence ;  and,  lastly,  I  have  thrown  myself  at  the  feet 
of  his  Holiness,  and  now  wait  his  good  pleasure,  ready 
to  submit  to  his  judgment,  whether  he  condamn  or  ac- 
quit me.  I  therefore  feel  that  I  have  left  nothing  un- 
done that  becomes  an  obedient  son  of  the  church. 

"  It  is  my  intention,  therefore,  not  uselessly  to  pro- 
long my  stay  here  ;  it  is,  indeed,  impossible  I  should 
do  so,  as  I  want  the  means ;  and  you  have  positively 
forbidden  my  again  appearing  before  you,  unless  I 
would  retract. 

"  Thus,  I  again  set  out  in  the  name  of  the  Lord, 
desiring,  if  possible,  to  find  some  place  where  I  may 
live  in  peace.  Several  persons,  of  more  importance 
than  myself,  have  persuaded  me  to  appeal  from  your 
paternal  kindness,  and  even  from  our  most  holy  lord, 
Leo  X.,  ill-informed,  to  himself,  when  he  shall  be  bet- 
ter informed  on  the  matter.  Though  I  know  that 
such  an  appeal  will  be  more  agreeable  to  his  Highness, 
the  elector,  than  a  recantation,  yet,  if  it  had  been  my 
duty  only  to  consult  my  own  feelings,  I  would  not 

have  made  it I  have  committed  no  crime — I 

ought,  therefore,  to  have  nothing  to  fear." 

Luther,  having  written  this  letter,  (which  was  not 
delivered  to  the  legate  until  after  his  departure,)  pre- 
pared to  leave  Augsburg.  God  had  preserved  him 
hitherto,  and,  with  all  his  heart,  he  praised  the  Lord 
for  his  protection.  But  it  was  his  duty  not  to  tempt 
God.  He  embraced  his  friends,  Peutinger,  Lan- 
gemantel,  the  Adelmanns,  Auerbach,  and  the  prior 
of  the  Carmelites,  who  had  afforded  him  such  Christian 
hospitality.  On  Wednesday,  before  daybreak,  he  was 
up,  and  ready  to  set  out.  His  friends  had  advised 
him  to  take  every  possible  precaution,  fearing  that  if 


HIS  APPEAL— LUTHER'S  FLIGHT— NUREMBERG— GRAEFENTHAL. 


Ill 


his  departure  were  known,  it  might  be  opposed.  He 
followed  their  advice  as  well  as  he  could.  A  horse, 
that  Staupitz  had  left  at  his  disposal,  was  brought  to 
the  door  of  the  convent.  Once  more  he  bids  adieu  to 
his  brethren  ;  he  then  mounts  and  sets  out,  without  a 
bridle  for  his  horse,  without  boots  or  spurs,  and  un- 
armed. 

The  magistrate  of  the  city  had  sent  him  as  a  guide 
a  horsemen,  who  was  well  acquainted  with  the  roads. 
This  man  conducts  him,  in  the  dark,  through  the  si- 
lent streets  of  Augsburg.  They  direct  their  course  to 
a  little  gate  in  the  wall  of  the  city.  One  of  the  coun- 
sellors, Langemantel,  had  ordered  that  it  should  be 
opened  to  him.  He  is  still  in  the  legate's  power.  The 
hand  of  Rome  is  still  over  him.  Doubtless,  if  the  Ital- 
ians knew  that  their  prey  was  escaping,  the  cry  of 
pursuit  would  be  raised.  Who  knows  whether  the  in- 
trepid adversary  of  Rome  may  not  still  be  seized  and 
thrown  into  prison  I  ....  At  last,  Luther  and  his 
guide  arrive  at  the  little  gate  ; — they  pass  through. 
They  are  out  of  Augsburg;  and,  putting  their  horses 
into  a  gallop,  they  soon  leave  the  city  far  behind 
them. 

Luther,  on  leaving,  had  deposited  his  appeal  to  the 
pope  in  the  hands  of  the  prior  of  Pomesaw.  His 
friends  advised  him  not  to  send  it  to  the  legate.  The 
prior  was  commissioned  to  have  it  posted,  two  or 
three  days  after  the  doctor's  departure,  on  the  door  of 
a  cathedral,  in  the  presence  of  a  notary,  and  of  wit- 
nesses. This  was  done. 

In  this  writing,  Luther  declared  that  he  appealed 
from  the  most  holy  father,  the  pope,  ill-informed  in 
this  business,  to  the  most  holv  father  in  Christ,  Leo  X. 
by  name,  by  the  grace  of  God,  when  better  informed, 
&c.  &.c.*  The  appeal  had  been  drawn  up  in  the  re- 
gular form,  by  the  assistance  of  the  imperial  notary, 
Gall  de  Herbrachtingen,  in  the  presence  of  two  Au- 

§ustine  monks,  Bartholomew  Utzmair,  and  Wengel 
teinbies.  It  was  dated  the  16th  of  October. 
When  the  cardinal  heard  of  Luther's  departure,  he 
was  struck  with  surprise,  and,  as  he  affirmed  in  a  let- 
ter to  the  elector,  even  with  alarm  and  apprehension. 
He  had,  indeed,  some  reason  to  be  vexed.  This  de- 
parture, which  so  abruptly  terminated  his  negotiations, 
disconcerted  all  the  hopes  which  his  pride  had  so  long 
cherished.  He  had  been  ambitious  of  the  honour  of 
healing  the  wounds  of  the  church,  and  re-establishing 
the  declining  influence  of  the  pope  in  Germany  ;  and 
not  only  had  the  heretic  escaped  with  impunity,  but 
without  his  having  so  much  as  humbled  him.  The 
conference  had  served  only  to  exhibit,  in  a  strong 
light,  on  the  one  hand,  the  simplicity,  uprightness,  and 
firmness  of  Luther ;  and,  on  the  other,  the  imperious 
and  unreasonable  procedure  of  the  pope  and  his  repre- 
sentative. Inasmuch  as  Rome  had  gained  nothing, 
she  had  lost ;  and  her  authority,  not  having  been  re- 
inforced, had,  in  reality,  sustained  a  fresh  check.  What 
will  be  said  of  all  this  at  the  Vatican  1  What  will  be 
the  next  despatches  received  from  Rome  1  The  diffi- 
culties of  the  legate's  situation  will  be  forgotten,  the 
untoward  issue  of  the  affair  will  be  ascribed  to  his 
want  of  skill.  Serra  Longa,  and  the  rest  of  the  Itali- 
ans, were  furious  on  seeing  themselves,  dexterous  as 
they  were,  outwitted  by  a  German  monk.  De  Vio 
could  hardly  conceal  his  vexation.  Such  an  insult  ap- 
peared to  call  for  vengeance,  and  we  shall  soon  see 
him  give  utterance  to  his  anger,  in  a  letter  to  the 
elector. 

Meanwhile,  Luther,  accompanied  by  the  horseman, 

continued  his  journey  from  Augsburg.     He  urged  his 

horse,  and  kept  the  poor  animal  at  full- speed.     He 

called  to  mind  the  real  or  supposed  flight  of  John  Huss, 

*  Melius  informandum.    (L.  Opp.  lat.  i.  p.  219.) 


the  manner  in  which  he  was  overtaken,  and  the  asser- 
tion of  his  adversaries,  who  affirmed  that  Huss,  hav- 
ing by  his  flight  annulled  the  emperor's  safe-conduct, 
they  had  a  right  to  condemn  him  to  the  flames.* 
However,  these  uneasy  feelings  did  not  long  occupy 
Luther's  mind.  Having  got  clear  from  the  city,  where 
he  had  spent  ten  days  under  that  terrible  hand  of 
Rome,  which  had  already  crushed  so  many  thousand 
witnesses  for  the  truth,  and  shed  so  much  blood — at 
large,  breathing  the  open  air,  traversing  the  villages 
and  plains,  and  wonderfully  delivered  by  the  arm  of 
the  Lord,  his  whole  soul  overflowed  with  praise.  He 
might  well  say  :  "  Our  soul  is  escaped  as  a  bird  out 
of  the  snare  of  the  fowlers  ;  the  snare  is  broken,  and 
we  are  delivered.  Our  help  is  in  the  name  of  God, 
who  made  heaven  and  earth. "t  Thus  was  the  heart 
of  Luther  filled  with  joy.  But  his  thoughts  again  re- 
verted to  de  Vio  :  "  The  cardinal,"  thought  he,"  would 
have  been  well  pleased  to  get  me  into  his  power,  and 
send  me  to  Rome.  He  is,  no  doubt,  mortified  that  I 
have  escaped  from  him.  He  thought  he  had  me  in 
his  clutches  at  Augsburg.  He  thought  he  held  me  fast ; 
but  he  was  holding  an  eel  by  the  tail.  Shame,  that 
these  people  should  set  so  high  a  price  upon  me  ! 
They  would  give  many  crowns  to  have  me  in  their 
power,  whilst  our  Saviour,  Christ,  was  sold  for  thirty 
pieces  of  silver,  t 

Luther  travelled  fourteen  leagues  the  first  day.  In 
the  evening,  when  he  arrived  at  the  inn  where  he  was 
to  spend  the  night,  he  was  so  fatigued — (his  horse, 
says  one  of  his  biographers,  had  a  very  rough  trot,) — 
that,  on  alighting,  he  was  unable  to  stand,  and  dropped 
motionless  upon  the  straw.  He,  however,  enjoyed 
some  rest.  The  next  day  he  continued  his  journey. 
At  Nuremberg  he  found  Staupitz,  who  was  engaged 
in  visiting  the  convents  of  his  order.  It  was  in  this 
city  that  he  first  saw  the  brief  that  the  Pope  had  sent 
to  Cajetan  concerning  him.  He  was  indignant  at  it, 
and,  had  he  read  it  before  he  left  Wittemberg,  it  is 
very  probable  he  would  never  have  appeared  before  the 
Cardinal.  "  It  is  impossible  to  believe,"  said  he, 
"  that  any  thing  so  monstrous  can  have  emanated  from 
a  Sovereign  Pontiff.  "$ 

Everywhere  on  his  journey,  Luther  was  an  object 
of  general  interest.  He  was  returning  without  having 
given  up  any  thing.  Such  a  victory  gained  by  a  men- 
dicant friar  over  the  representatives  of  Rome,  filled 
every  heart  with  astonishment.  It  seemed  as  if  Ger- 
many had  now  its  revenge  for  the  Italian  contempt  of 
Ultramontanes.  God's  word  had  obtained  more  ho- 
nour than  the  word  of  the  Pope.  The  power  which  for 
ages  had  borne  rule,  had  just  received  a  formidable 
check.  The  journey  of  Luther  was  a  triumph.  Men 
rejoiced  at  the  obstinacy  of  Rome,  because  it  was  like- 
ly to  hasten  her  ruin.  If  she  had  not  insisted  on  re- 
taining her  shameful  gains — if  she  had  been  prudent 
enough  not  to  despise  the  Germans — if  she  had  re- 
formed flagrant  abuses — perhaps,  according  to  human 
calculations,  things  would  have  returned  to  the  death- 
like state  from  which  Luther  had  awakened.  But  the 
Papacy  would  not  yield  ;  and  the  Doctor  was  to  be 
constrained  to  bring  many  other  errors  to  light,  and  to 
advance  in  the  knowledge  and  manifestation  of  the 
truth. 

On  the  26th  of  October,  Luther  arrived  at  Graefen- 
thal,  at  the  extremity  of  the  woods  of  Thurmgia.  He 
there  met  Count  Albert  of  Mansfeldt,  the  same  person 
who  had  so  strongly  dissuaded  him  from  going  to  Augs- 
burg. The  Count  laughed  heartily  at  his  strange 
equipment.  He  compelled  him  to  stop,  and  obliged 


Weissman,  Hist.  Eccles.  i.  p.  237. 
L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  202. 
L.  Epp.  i.  p.  166. 


fPs    124. 


112 


THE  LEGATE  TO  THE  ELECTOR— LUTHER  TO  THE  ELECTOR. 


him  to  become  his  guest :  Luther  soon  afterward  con- 
tinued his  journey. 

He  hastened  on,  desiring  to  be  at  Wittemberg  on 
the  31st  of  October,  in  the  expectation  that  the  Elector 
would  be  there  at  the  feast  of  All  Saints,  and  that  he 
might  have  an  interview  with  him.  The  brief  which 
he  had  rea(J  at  Nuremberg  had  revealed  to  him  all  the 
danger  of  his  situation.  In  fact,  being  already  con- 
demned at  Rome,  he  could  not  hope  either  to  continue 
at  Wittemberg,  or  to  find  an  asylum  in  a  convent,  or 
to  dwell  any  where  in  peace  and  safety.  The  protec- 
tion of  the  Elector  might,  perhaps,  avail  him  ;  but  he 
was  far  from  being  sure  of  it.  He  had  nothing  more 
to  hope  from  the  true  friends  he  had  hitherto  possessed 
at  this  prince's  court.  Staupitz,  having  lost  the  favour 
he  had  long  enjoyed,  was  then  leaving  Saxony.  Spala- 
tin,  though  beloved  by  Frederic,  had  not  much  influ- 
ence over  him.  The  Elector  himself  was  not  suffi- 
ciently instructed  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Gospel  to  ex- 
pose himself  for  the  sake  of  it  to  manifest  dangers. 
However,  Luther  thought  he  could  not  do  better  than 
return  to  Wittemberg,  and  there  wait  to  see  what  the 
eternal  and  merciful  God  would  do  with  him.  If,  as 
some  expected,  he  were  unmolested,  he  resolved  to 
devote  himself  entirely  to  the  study  and  to  the  instruc- 
tion of  youth.* 

Luther  got  back  to  Wittemberg  on  the  30th  of  Oc- 
tober. His  haste  had  been  in  vain.  Neither  the 
Elector  noij^palatin  had  come  to  the  feast.  His  friends 
were  delighted  to  see  him  again  among  them.  He 
hastened  to  inform  Spalatin  of  his  arrival.  "  I  have 
arrived  to-day  at  Wittemberg,  safe  and  sound,  through 
God's  mercy,"  said  he  ;  "  but  how  long  I  shall  stay 
here  I  know  not.  ...  I  am  filled  with  joy  and  peace ; 
and  find  it  hard  to  conceive  how  the  trial  I  am  endur- 
ing can  appear  so  grievous  to  so  many  distinguished 
men." 

De  Vio  had  not  waited  long,  after  the  departure  of 
Luther,  to  pour  fourth  all  his  indignation  to  the  Elector. 
His  lettei  breathed  vengeance. 

He  gave  Frederick  an  account  of  the  conference, 
with  an  air  of  self-satisfaction  :  "  Since  brother  Mar- 
tin," said  he,  in  conclusion,  "cannot  be  brought,  by 
paternal  measures,  to  acknowledge  his  error,  and  to 
continue  faithful  to  the  Catholic  Church,  I  request 
your  Highness  to  send  him  to  Rome,  or  to  banish  him 
from  your  territories.  Be  assured  that  this  complicat- 
ed, evil-intentioned,  and  mischievous  affair,  cannot  be 
long  protracted  ;  for  as  soon  as  I  shall  have  informed 
our  most  holy  lord  of  all  this  artifice  and  malice,  he 
will  bring  it  to  a  speedy  end."  In  a  postscript,  writ- 
ten with  his  own  hand,  the  Cardinal  entreated  the 
Elector  not  to  tarnish  with  shame  his  own  honour,  and 
that  of  his  illustrious  ancestors,  for  the  cause  of  a  con- 
temptible monk.f 

Never  was  the  soul  of  Luther  roused  to  higher  in- 
dignation than  when  he  read  the  copy  of  this  letter, 
which  the  Elector  sent  him.  The  sense  of  the  suffer- 
ings he  was  destined  to  endure,  the  value  of  the  truth 
for  which  he  contended,  contempt  for  the  conduct  of 
the  Roman  Legate,  together  swelled  his  heart.  His  an- 
swer, written  at  the  moment  when  his  whole  soul  was 
thus  agitated,  is  distinguished  by  that  courage,  eleva- 
tion, and  faith,  which  he  ever  displayed  in  the  most 
trying  circumstances  of  his  life.  He  gave,  in  his  turn, 
an  account  of  the  conference  at  Augsburg.  He  des- 
cribed the  deportment  of  the  Cardinal,  and  thus  pro- 
ceeded : 

"  I  would  like  to  answer  the  Legate,  putting  myself 
in  the  place  of  the  Elector. 

"  *  Prove  to  me  that  you  understand  what  you  talk 

*  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  183.         f  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  203. 


about,'  I  would  say  to  him  ;  '  let  the  whole  discussion 
be  carried  on  in  writing.  I  will  then  send  brother 
Martin  to  Rome,  or  else  I  will  apprehend  him,  and 
have  him  put  to  death.  I  will  take  care  of  my  own 
conscience  and  honour,  and  I  will  not  allow  my  glory 
to  be  sullied.  But  as  long  as  your  absolute  knowledge 
shuns  the  light,  and  only  discovers  itself  by  clamour,  I 
cannot  put  faith  in  darkness.' 

4  This,"  most  excellent  Prince,  is  the  answer  I  would 
make  him. 

'  Let  the  reverend  Legate,  or  the  Pope  himself, 
specify  my  errors  in  writing  ;  let  them  bring  forward 
their  reasons  ;  let  them  instruct  me,  who  desire  to  be 
nstructed,  who  ask  to  be  so,  who  intend  what  I  say, 
and  long  for  instruction,  so  that  even  a  Turk  would 
not  refuse  to  satisfy  me.  If  I  do  not  retract  and  con- 
demn myself,  when  they  have  proved  to  me  that  the 
passages  of  Scripture  that  I  have  quoted  ought  to  be 
understood  in  a  different  sense  from  that  in  which  I 
lave  understood  them  —  then,  0  most  excellent  Elector  ! 
iet  your  Highness  be  the  first  to  prosecute  and  expel 
me,  let  the  university  reject  me  and  overwhelm  me 
with  indignation.  I  will  go  further,  and  I  call  heaven 
and  earth  to  witness,  let  the  Lord  Christ  Jesus  himself 
reject  and  condemn  me  !  These  are  not  words  of  vain 
presumption,  but  of  firm  conviction.  Let  the  Lord 
deprive  me  of  his  grace,  and  every  creature  of  God  re- 
fuse to  countenance  me,  if,  when  I  have  been  shown 
a  better  doctrine,  I  do  not  embrace  it. 

'  But  if,  on  account  of  my  low  estate,  and  because 
I  am  but  a  poor  mendicant  brother,  they  despise  me, 
and  so  refuse  to  instruct  me  in  the  way  of  truth,  let 
your  Highness  beg  the  Legate  to  inform  you  in  writing 
wherein  1  have  erred  ;  and  if  they  refuse  this  favour  to 
your  Highness  yourself,  let  them  write  their  own  views, 
either  to  his  Imperial  Majesty,  or  to  some  German 
Archbishop.  What  ought  I  to  do  —  what  can  I  do—- 
more 1 

'  Let  your  Highness  listen  to  the  voice  of  your  con- 
science and  of  your  honour,  and  not  send  me  to  Rome. 
No  man  has  the  right  to  require  this  of  you  ;  for  it  is 
mpossible  that  I  should  be  safe  in  Rome.  The  Pope 
himself  is  not  safe  there.  It  would  be  enjoining  you 
to  betray  Christian  blood.  They  have  there  paper, 
pens,  and  ink  :  they  have  also  numberless  notaries. 
It  is  easy  for  them  to  write  wherein,  and  wherefore,  I 
have  erred.  It  will  cost  them  less  trouble  to  instruct 
me  at  a  distance  by  writing,  than,  having  me  among 
them,  to  put  me  to  death  by  stratagem. 

1  1  resign  myself  to  banishment.  My  adversaries 
lay  snares  for  me  on  all  sides  ;  so  that  I  can  nowhere 
live  in  safety.  That  no  harm  may  happen  to  you  on 
my  account,  I  leave  your  territories,  in  God's  name. 
I  will  go  wherever  the  eternal  and  merciful  God  will 
have  me.  Let  him  do  with  me  what  seemeth  him 
good. 

"  Thus,  then,  most  serene  Elector,  I  reverently  bid 
you  farewell.  I  commend  you  to  Almighty  God,  and 
I  give  you  endless  thanks  for  all  your  kindness  to  me. 
Whatever  be  the  people  among  whom  I  may  hereafter 
live,  wherever  my  future  lot  may  be  cast,  I  shall  ever 
remember  you,  and  shall  gratefully  pray,  without  ceasing, 
for  the  happinness  of  you  and  yours.* 

"  I  am  still,  thanks  to  God,  full  of  joy,  and  praise 
him  that  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  counts  me  worthy  to 
suffer  in  so  holy  a  cause.  May  He  for  ever  preserve 
your  illustrious  Highness.  Amen." 

This  letter,  so  overflowing  with  the  accents  of  truth 
and  justice,  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  Elector. 
"He  was  shaken  by  a  very  eloquent  letter,"  says 


*  Ego  enim  ubicumque  ero  gentium,  illustrissimjE 
ationis  tuae  nunquam  non  ere  meraor.     (L.  Epp.  i.  137.) 


LUTHER  TO  SPALATIN— LUTHER'S  INTENDED  DEPARTURE. 


113 


Maimbourg.  Never  could  he  have  had  the  thought  of 
giving  up  an  innocent  man  to  the  power  of  Rome 
Perhaps  he  might  have  persuaded  Luther  to  conceai 
himself  for  some  time.  But  he  resolved  not  even  in 
appearance  to  yield  in  any  way  to  the  Legate's  threats 
He  wrote  to  his  counsellor,  Pfeffinger,  who  was  then 
at  the  court  of  the  Emperor,  to  represent  to  his  Majesty 
the  real  state  of  affairs,  and  to  beg  him  to  write  to 
Rome,  so  that  the  matter  might  be  brought  to  a  con- 
clusion, or  at  least  be  determined  in  Germany  by  im- 
partial judges.* 

Some  days  after,  the  Elector  wrote  to  the  Legate  in 
reply  :  *•  Since  Doctor  Martin  has  appeared  before  you 
at  Augsburg,  you  ought  to  be  satisfied.  We  did  not 
expect  that,  without  convincing  him  of  error  you  would 
claim  to  oblige  him  to  retract.  Not  one  of  the  learned 
men  in  our  states  has  intimated  to  us  an  opinion  that 
Martin'-^  doctrine  is  impious,  antichristian,  or  heretical." 
The  Prince,  in  the  latter  part  of  his  letter,  declined 
sending  Luther  to  Rome,  or  expelling  him  from  his 
territories. 

This  letter,  which  was  communicated  to  Luther, 
rejoiced  his  heart.  "  Gracious  God  I"  he  wrote  to 
Spalatin,  "  with  what  joy  I  read  and  re-read  it ;  for  I 
know  what  confidence  I  may  repose  in  these  words,  at 
once  so  forcible  and  so  discreet.  I  fear  the  Italians 
will  not  understand  their  full  import.  But  they  will  at 
least  comprehend,  that  what  they  believed  already 
finished  is  scarcely  yet  begun.  Be  pleased  to  present 
my  grateful  acknowledgments  to  the  Prince.  It  is 
strange  that  he  (De  Vio)  who,  a  little  while  ago,  was  a 
mendicant  friar  like  myself,  is  not  afraid  to  address  the 
most  powerful  princes  with  disrespect,  to  call  them  to 
account,  to  threaten  and  command  them,  and  to  treat 
them  with  such  preposterous  haughtiness.  Let  him 
learn  that  the  temporal  power  is  ordained  of  God,  and 
that  none  are  permitted  to  trample  its  glory  under 
foot."f 

One  thing  that  had  undoubtedly  encouraged  Frederic 
to  answer  the  Legate  in  a  tone  which  the  latter  did  not 
expect,  was  a  letter  addressed  to  him  by  the  university 
of  Wittemberg.  It  was  not  without  reason  that  they 
declared  themselves  in  the  Doctor's  favour.  The 
university  was  increasing  in  reputation,  and  surpassed 
all  the  other  schools.  A  crowd  of  students  flocked 
thither  from  all  parts  of  Germany  to  listen  to  this 
extraordinary  man,  whose  instructions  seemed  to  open 
a  new  era  to  religion  and  learning.  These  young  men, 
who  arrived  from  the  different  provinces,  would  often 
stop  when  they  discovered  in  the  distance  the  steeples 
of  Wittemberg ;  and,  raising  their  hands  toward  heaven, 
bless  God  for  having  caused  the  light  of  truth  to  shine 
forth  from  Wittemberg,  as  in  former  ages  from  Mount 
Sion,  that  it  might  penetrate  to  the  most  distant  lands.  J 
A  life  and  activity,  hitherto  unknown,  was  infused  into 
the  university  studies. — "  Our  young  men  are  as  dili- 
gent here  as  ants  upon  an  ant-hill,"§  wrote  Luther. 

Thinking  that  he  soon  might  be  driven  out  of  Ger- 
many. Luther  busied  himself  in  publishing  a  report  of 
the  conference  at  Augsburg.  He  resolved  that  it 
should  be  preserved  as  a  memorial  of  the  struggle  be- 
tween Rome  and  himself.  He  saw  the  storm  ready  to 
burst,  but  he  did  not  fear  it.  He  was  in  daily  expec- 
tation of  the  maledictions  of  Rome.  He  arranged  and 
regulated  everything  that  he  might  be  ready  when  they 
arrived.  "  Having  tucked  up  my  gown,  and  girded 
my  loins,"  said  he,  "  I  am  ready  to  depart,  like  Abra- 
ham, not  knowing  whither  I  go  ;  or  rather  well  know- 

L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  244. 
t  L.Epp.  i.p.  198. 
}  Scultet.    Annal.  i.  p.  17. 

t)  Studium  nostrum  more  fonnioarum  fervet  (L.  Opp.  i.  p. 
193.) 


ing  whither,  since  God  is  everywhere."  He  intended 
to  leave  behind  him  a  farewell  letter.  "  Take  courage, 
then,"  he  wrote  to  Spalatin  ;  "  to  read  the  letter  of  a 
man  accursed  and  excommunicated."* 

His  friends  were  full  of  fears  and  anxiety  on  his  ac- 
count. They  entreated  him  to  deliver  himself  up  as  a 
prisoner  into  the  Elector's  hands,  that  that  prince  might 
keep  him  somewhere  in  safety. t 

His  enemies  could  not  comprehend  the  grounds  of 
his  confidence.  One  day,  at  the  court  of  the  Bishop 
of  Brandenburg,  the  conversation  turned  on  the  Re- 
former, and  it  was  asked  on  what  support  he  could  be 
depending.  Some  said,  "  It  is  on  Erasmus  and  Capito, 
and  other  learned  men,  that  he  reckons  for  protection." 
"  No,  no  !"  replied  the  Bishop  :  "  the  Pope  would  care 
very  little  for  those  gentry.  It  is  to  the  University  of 
Wittemberg,  and  the  Duke  of  Saxony,  that  he  looks 
for  support."  ....  Thus  both  parties  were  ignorant  of 
that  strong  tower  in  which  the  Reformer  had  sought 
refuge. 

Thoughts  of  taking  his  departure  were  passing 
through  Luther's  mind.  It  was  not  the  fear  of  danger 
that  gave  rise  to  them,  but  the  presentiment  of  the  in- 
cessantly renewed  opposition  he  should  find  in  Ger- 
many to  the  open  profession  of  the  truth.  "  If  I  stay 
here,"  said  he,  "  I  shall  be  denied  the  liberty  of  speak- 
ng  and  writing  many  things.  If  I  depart,  I  will  pour 
forth  freely  the  thoughts  of  my  heart,  and  devote  my 
life  to  Christ."* 

France  was  the  country  where  Luther  hoped  he 
might  without  hindrance  proclaim  the  truth.  The 
liberty  enjoyed  by  the  doctors  of  the  University  of 
Paris  appeared  to  him  worthy  of  envy.  Besides,  he, 
on  many  points,  agreed  in  the  opinions  that  prevailed 
there.  What  might  have  ensued,  if  Luther  had  been 
removed  from  Wittember  to  France  1  Would  the 
Reformation  have  established  itself  there  as  it  did  m 

ermany  ?  Would  the  power  of  Rome  have  been  de- 
ihroned  there  ;  and  France,  which  was  destined  to  en- 
dure a  long  struggle  between  the  hierarchial  principles 
of  Rome,  and  the  ruinous  principles  of  an  irreligious 
hilosophy,  have  become  the  great  dispenser  of  evan- 
gelical light  1  It  is  useless  to  indulge  in  vain  conjec- 
.ures.  But,  certainly,  Luther  at  Paris,  would  have 
made  a  great  difference  in  the  fortunes  of  the  Church, 
and  of  France. 

The  soul  of  Luther  was  deeply  moved.  He  often 
Dreached  in  the  church  of  the  city,  supplying  the  place 
of  Simon  Heyns  Pontanus,  the  pastor  of  Wittemberg, 
who  was  frequently  indisposed.  He  thought  it  right, 
at  all  hazards,  to  take  leave  of  the  congregation  to 
whom  he  had  so  often  preached  the  doctrine  of  salva- 
tion. "  I  am  a  very  unstable  preacher,"  said  he,  one 
day,  in  the  pulpit,  "and  very  uncertain  in  my  position. 
How  often  have  I  left  you  suddenly  without  taking 
eave  of  you.  If  this  should  happen  again,  and  I  should 
never  return,  receive  my  last  farewell."  Then,  having 
added  a  few  words,  he  concluded  by  saying,  with  mo- 
deration and  gentleness  :  "  Finally,  I  warn  you  not  to 
>e  terrified,  if  the  Papal  censures  should  be  discharged 
against  me  in  all  their  fury.  Do  not  blame  the"  Pope, 
nor  bear  any  ill-will  to  him,  or  to  any  man  living,  but 
eave  the  whole  matter  to  God."$ 

At  length  the  moment  of  his  departure  seemed  at 
land.  The  Prince  gave  him  to  understand  that  he 
wished  him  to  leave  Wittemberg.  The  wishes  of  the 
Elector  were  too  sacred  with  Luther  for  him  not  to 
lasten  to  comply  with  them.  The  Reformer  prepared 

*  Quia  deus  ubique.     (L.  Opp.  i.  p.  188.) 
f  Ut  princi  me  in  captivitatem  darem.     (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  189.) 
J  Si  iero,  totum  effundam,  et  vitam  offeram  Christo.     (L. 
Epp.  i.p.  190.) 
§  Deo  rem  committerent.    (Luth.  Epp.  i.  p.  191.) 


114 


A  CRITICAL  HOUR— DELIVERANCE— DISSATISFACTION  AT  ROME. 


to  depart,  without  knowing  well  to  what   quarter 
direct  his  steps.     Resolving,  however,  once  more  t 
see  his  friends  about  him,  he  invited  them  to  a  fare 
well  repast.     Seated  with  them  at  table,  he  once  mor 
enjoyed  their  conversation,  and  their  affectionate  an 
anxious  friendship.     A  letter  was  brought  to  him. 
came  from  the  court.     He  opened  and  read  it.     H 
heart  sank  within  him.     It  enclosed  an  order  for  h 
departure.     The  Prince  inquired  :  "  Why  he  delaye 
so  long  ?"*     His  soul  was  overwhelmed  with  dejection 
However,  he  resumed  courage  ;  and,  raising  his  heat 
said  firmly  and  joyfully,  turning  to  those  about  him 
"  Father  and  mother  forsake  me  ;  but  the  Lord  wi 
take  me  up."     "  Depart  then  he  must.     His  friend 
were  much  affected.     What  would  become  of  him 
If  Luther's  protector  rejects  him,  who  will  receive  him 
And  this  Gospel,  this  word  of  truth,  and  this  admira 
ble  work  he  had  taken  in  hand,    will  doubtless  peris 
with  the  faithful  witness.     The  fate  of  the  Reforma 
tion  seemed  suspended  by  a  single  thread  ;  and  wouh 
not  the  moment  in  which  Luther  left  the  walls  of  Wit 
temberg,   break  that  thread  1     Luther  and  his  friend: 
said  little.     Sympathising  in  his  feelings,  they  gave  ven 
to  their  tears.     However,  but  a  short  time  had  elapsed 
when  a  second  messenger  arrived.      Luther  openec 
this  letter,  expecting  to  find  a  reiterated  order  for  his 
departure.     But  lo  !   the  mighty  power  of  the  Lord  ! 
for  the  present  he  is  saved.     Everything  is  changed 
"  As  the  Pope's  new  envoy,"  said  the  letter,  "  hope* 
that  everything  maybe  settled  by  a  conference,  remain 
for  the  present. "t     How  important  was  this  hour !  ant 
what  might  have  happened  if  Luther,  ever  anxious  to 
obey  the  Prince's  pleasure,  had  left  Wittemberg  im- 
mediately on  the  receipt  of  the  first  letter  !     Never 
had  Luther  and  the  cause  of  the  Reformation  been 
brought  lower  than  at  this  moment.     It  might  have 
been  thought  that  their  fate  was  decided  :  in  an  in- 
stant it  was  changed.     Having  reached  the  lowest  step 
in  his  carreer,  the  Reformer  rapidly  arose,  and  from 
that  time  his  influence  continued  to  ascend.     "  At  the 
word  of  the  Lord,"  in  the  language  of  the  prophet, 
"  his  servants  go  down  to  the  depths,  and  mount  up 
again  to  heaven." 

Spalatin,  by  Frederic's  orders,  sent  for  Luther  to 
Lichtemberg,  to  have  an  interview  with  him.  They 
had  a  long  conversation  on  the  state  of  affairs.  "  If 
the  Pope's  sentence  of  condemnation  come,  I  certainly 
cannot  remain  at  Wittemberg,"  said  Luther.  "  Be- 
ware," replied  Spalatin,  "  of  being  in  too  great  a  hurry 
to  go  to  France.''^  He  left  him,  telling  him  to  wait  fur- 
ther tidings  from  him.  "  Only  commend  my  soul  to 
Christ,"  said  Luther  to  his  friends.  "  I  see  that  my 
adversaries  are  more  and  more  determined  on  my  de- 
struction. But  Christ  is  meanwhile  strengthening  me 
in  my  determination  not  to  give  way."§ 

Luther  at  that  time  published  his  reports  of  the  con- 
ference at  Augsburg.  Spalatin  had  written  to  him 
from  the  Elector  to  abstain  from  doing  so  ;  but  it  was 
too  late.  When  the  publication  had  taken  place,  the 
Prince  gave  his  sanction.  "  Great  God  !"  said  Lu- 
ther, in  his  preface,  "what  a  new,  what  an  amazing 
crime,  to  seek  after  light  and  truth,  and  above  all  in 
the  Church,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  kingdom  of  truth  !" 
"  I  send  you  this  document,"  said  he,  writing  to  Link  ; 
"  it  cuts  too  deep,  no  doubt,  to  please  the  Legate  ;  but 
my  pen  is  ready  to  give  out  much  greater  things.  I 
myself  know  not  whence  these  thoughts  come  to  me. 

*  Vater  und  mutter  verlassen  mich,  aber  der  Herr  nimmt 
tnich  auf. 

t  L.  Opp.  xv.  824. 

j  Ne  tarn  cito  in  Galliam  iram.     (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  195.) 

I  Firmat  Christus  propositum  non  cedendi  in  me.    (Ibid.) 


As  far  as  I  can  see,  the  work  is  not  yet  begun  ;*  so 
little  reason  is  there  for  the  great  men  of  Rome  hoping 
to  see  an  end  of  it.  I  shall  send  you  what  I  have 
written,  in  order  that  you  may  judge  if  I  am  right  in 
believing  that  the  Antichrist  of  whom  St.  Paul  speaks, 
now  reigns  in  the  court  of  Rome.  I  think  I  can  prove 
that  now-a-days  the  power  that  presides  there  is  worse 
than  the  Turks  themselves." 

On  all  sides,  sinister  reports  reached  Luther.  One 
of  his  friends  wrote  him  word  that  the  new  envoy  from 
Rome  had  received  orders  to  apprehend  him,  and  deliv- 
er him  to  the  Pope.  Another  reported  that,  as  he  was 
travelling,  he  had  met  with  a  courtier,  and  that,  the 
conversation  having  turned  upon  the  affairs  which  were 
then  the  general  topic  in  Germany,  the  latter  confided 
Lo  him  that  he  had  undertaken  to  seize  and  deliver  Lu- 
ther into  the  hands  of  the  Sovereign  Pontiff.  "  But 
he  more  their  fury  and  violence  increase,"  wrote  Lu- 
ther "  the  less  do  I  fear  them."t 

Cajetan's  ill  success  had  occasioned  much  dissatis- 
"action  at  Rome.  The  vexation  felt  at  the  failure 
)f  the  affair,  fell  in  the  first  instance  upon  him.  All 
,he  Roman  courtiers  thought  they  had  cause  to  re- 
)roach  him  for  having  been  deficient  in  the  prudence 
md  address  which,  in  their  account,  were  the  most 
ndispensable  qualifications  in  a  legate,  and  for  not  hav- 
ng  relaxed  the  strictness  of  his  sholastic  theology  on 
o  important  an  occasion.  "  The  failure  is  entirely 
•wing  to  him,"  said  they.  "  His  awkward  pedantry 
las  spoiled  all.  Why  did  he  provoke  Luther  by  in- 
ults  and  threats,  instead  of  alluring  him  by  the  pro- 
nise  of  a  bishopric,  or  even,  if  necessary,  a  cardinal's 
at^'J  These  mercenaries  judged  of  the  Reformer 
y  themselves.  The  failure,  however,  must  be  re- 
rieved.  On  the  one  hand,  it  was  requisite  that  Rome 
hould  declare  herself;  on  the  other,  she  must  not 
ffend  the  Elector,  who  might  be  very  serviceable  to 
er  in  the  anticipated  event  of  the  election  of  an  Em- 
eror.  As  it  was  impossible  for  Roman  ecclesiastics 
o  form  a  notion  of  the  true  source  whence  Luther  de- 
ived  his  strength  and  courage,  they  imagined  that  the 
"lector  was  much  more  deeply  implicated  in  the  mat- 
er than  he  really  was.  The  Pope  resolved,  therefore, 
o  pursue  a  different  line  of  policy.  He  caused  to  be 
ublished  in  Germany,  by  his  Legate,  a  bull,  wherein 
e  confirmed  the  doctrine  of  indulgences  precisely  in 
lose  points  which  had  been  questioned,  but  making 

0  mention  either  of  the  Elector  or  of  Luther.     As 
le  Reformer  had  always  declared,  that  he  would  sub- 
it  to  the  decision  of  the  Romish  Church,  he  must 

ow,  as  the  pope  thought,  either  keep  his  word,  or 
penly  show  himself  to  be  a  disturber  of  the  peace  of 
'ie  Church,  and  a  despiser  of  the  apostolic  see.  In 
ther  case,  the  Pope,  it  was  thought,  must  be  a  gainer, 
ut  nothing  is  ever  gained  by  so  obstinate  a  resistance 
gainst  the  truth.  In  vain  had  the  Pope  threatened 
ith  excommunication  whosoever  should  teach  other- 
ise  than  he  ordained  ;  the  light  is  not  arrested  by 
ich  orders.  It  would  have  been  wiser  to  moderate, 
y  certain  restrictions,  the  pretensions  of  the  sellers 
f  indulgences.  Apparently,  this  decree  of  Rome 
as  a  further  act  of  impolicy.  By  legalizing  the  most 
agrant  abuses,  it  irritated  all  sensible  men,  and  ren- 
ered  impossible  the  return  of  Luther  to  his  allegiance 

1  the  church.     "  It  was  commonly  thought,"  says  a 
atholic  historian, §  and  a  great  enemy  to  the  Refor- 
ation,  "  that  this  bull  had  been  framed  only  for  the 

ain  of  the  Pope  and  of  the  mendicant  friars,  who  be- 

*  Res  ista  necdum  habit  initium  suum,  meo  judicio.    L. 

pp.  i.  p.  193.) 

t  Quo  illi  magis  furunt  et  vi  affectant  yiam  eo  minus  ego 

rreor.     (L.  Epp.  i.  p.  191.) 

J  Sarjpi,  Concile  de  Trente,  p.  8.  ^  Maimbourg, 


LUTHER  APPEALS  TOA  COUNCIL— THE  POPE'S  CHAMBERLAIN. 


115 


g&n  to  find  that  no  one  would  give  anything  for  their 
indulgences." 

The  Cardinal  De  Vio  published  this  decree  at  Lintz, 
in  Austria,  on  the  13th  of  December,  1518;  but  Lu- 
ther had  already  taken  his  stand  in  a  position  of  security. 
On  the  28th  of  November  he  had  appealed,  in  the 
chapel  of  Corpus  Christi  at  Whittemberg,  from  the 
Pope  to  a  General  Council  of  the  Church.  He  fore- 
saw the  storm  chat  was  about  to  burst  upon  him,  arid 
he  knew  that  God  only  could  avert  it.  But  there  was 
something  he  himself  was  called  to  do  ;  and  he  did  it. 
He  must  no  doubt  leave  Wittemberg,  if  it  were  only 
for  the  sake  of  the  Elector,  as  soon  as  the  maledic- 
tions of  Rome  should  arrive  there  ;  yet  he  resolved 
not  to-  quit  Saxony  and  Germany  without  a  public  pro- 
test. He,  therefore,  drew  up  his  appeal ;  "  and  that 
it  might  be  ready  to  be  distributed  as  soon  as  the  furies 
of  Rome  should  overtake  him,"  as  he  says,  he  had  it 
printed,  under  the  express  condition  that  the  bookseller 
should  deposit  with  him  all  the  copies.  But  this  man, 
from  desire  of  gain,  sold  almost  the  whole  impression, 
while  Luther  was  quietly  expecting  to  receive  them. 


He  was  much  annoyed,  but  the  thing  was  done.  This 
bold  appeal  was  dispersed  far  and  wide.  In  it  Luther 
again  protested  that  he  had  no  intention  of  saying  any- 
thing against  the  holy  Church,  or  the  authority  of  the 
Apostolic  see,  and  the  Pope  duly  informed.  "  But," 
continued  he,  "  seeing  that  the  Pope,  who  is  God's 
vicar  upon  earth,  may,  like  any  other  man,  fall  into  error, 
commit  sin,  and  utter  falsehood,  and  that  the  appeal 
to  a  general  council  is  the  only  safeguard  against  acts 
of  injustice  which  it  is  impossible  to  resist — on  these 
grounds  I  find  myself  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  it."* 
Behold,  then,  the  Reformation  launched  upon  a  new 
career.  It  is  no  longer  to  depend  upon  the  Pope  and  his 
decrees,  but  upon  a  General  Council.  Luther  speaks  to 
the  Church  at  large,  and  the  voice  which  proceeds  from 
the  chapel  of  Corpus  Christi  is  to  make  itself  heard  in 
all  the  gatherings  of  the  Lord's  flock.  It  is  not  in  cou- 
rage that  the  Reformer  is  wanting.  Behold  him  giv- 
ing new  proof  of  it.  Will  God  be  wanting  to  him  ? 
The  answer  will  be  read  in  the  different  phases  of  the 
Reformation  which  are  still  to  pass  before  us. 
*  Loscher,  Ref.  Act. 


BOOK  V. 


THE  LEIPSIC  DISCUSSION,  1519. 


THE  clouds  were  gathering  over  Luther  and  the  Re- 
formation. The  appeal  to  a  general  council  was  a  new 
attack  on  papal  authority.  A  bull  of  Pius  II.  had  pro- 
nounced the  greater  excommunication  against  any  one, 
even  though  he  should  be  the  emperor  himself,  who 
should  be  guilty  of  such  a  rejection  of  the  holy  father's 
authority.  Frederic,  of  Saxony,  scarcely  yet  well-es- 
tablished in  the  evangelic  doctrine,  was  on  the  point 
of  banishing  Luther  from  his  states.*  A  second  mes- 
sage from  Leo  X.  would,  in  that  case,  have  thrown 
the  Reformer  among  strangers,  who  might  fear  to 
compromise  their  own  security,  by  harbouring  a  monk 
whom  Rome  had  anathematized.  And  even  if  one  of 
the  German  nobles  had  taken  up  arms  in  his  defence, 
such  poor  knights,  looked  down  upon  with  contempt 
by  the  powerful  sovereigns  of  Germany,  must,  ere  long, 
have  sunk  in  their  hazardous  enterprise. 

But  at  the  moment  when  all  his  courtiers  were  urg- 
ing Leo  to  rigorous  measures — when  another  blow 
would  have  laid  his  enemy  at  his  feet — that  pope  sud- 
denly changed  his  course,  and  made  overtures  of  con- 
ciliation, t  Doubtless,  it  may  be  said,  he  mistook  the 
disposition  of  the  elector,  and  thought  him  much  more 
favourable  to  Luther  than  he  really  was.  We  may  al- 
low that  public  opinion,  and  the  spirit  of  the  age — 
powers  then  comparatively  new — might  seem  to  Leo 
to  surround  the  Reformer  with  an  insurmountable  ram- 
part of  defence.  We  may  suppose,  as  one  historian} 
has  done,  that  Leo  did  but  follow  the  impulse  of  his 
judgment  and  his  heart,  which  inclined  him  to  gen- 
tleness and  moderation.  But  this  method,  so  unlike 
Rome,  at  such  a  juncture,  is  so  strange,  that  it  is  im- 
possible not  to  acknowledge  in  it  a  more  powerful  inter- 
vention. 

*  Letter  from  the  elector  to  his  envoy  at  Rome.  L.  Opp. 
(L.)xvii.p.299. 

t  Rationem  agendi  prorsus  oppositam  inire  statuit.  (Card. 
Pallavicini,  Hist.  Concil.  Trid.  vol.  iv.  p.  51.) 

J  Roscoe,  vol.  iv.  p.  2. 


A  noble  Saxon,  chamberlain  to  the  pope,  and  canon 
of  Mentz,  of  Treves,  and  of  Meissen,  was  then  at  the 
court  of  Rome.  He  had  worked  his  way  into  favour. 
He  boasted  of  his  connexion,  by  family  relationships, 
with  the  princes  of  Saxony — so  that  the  Roman  court- 
iers sometimes  called  him  Duke  of  Saxony.  In  Italy 
he  paraded  his  German  nobility.  In  Germany  he  af- 
fected awkwardly  the  manners  and  refinement  of  Italy. 
He  was  addicted  to  wine,  and  this  vice  had  gained 
strength  from  his  residence  at  Rome.*  Nevertheless, 
the  Roman  courtiers  built  great  hopes  on  him.  His 
German  origin,  his  insinuating  manner,  and  his  skill  in 
negotiation,  altogether  persuaded  them  that  Charles 
Miltitz  would,  by  his  prudence,  succeed  in  arresting 
the  revolution  that  threatened  the  world. 

It  was  important  to  hide  the  real  object  of  the  Ro- 
man chamberlain's  mission.  This  was  not  difficult. 
Four  years  before,  the  pious  elector  had  petitioned  the 
pope  for  the  golden  rose.  This  rose  was  deemed  to 
represent  the  body  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  was  consecrat- 
ed every  year  by  the  sovereign  pontiff,  and  presented 
to  one  of  the  leading  princes  of  Europe.  It  was  decided 
to  present  it  this  year  to  the  elector.  Miltitz  set  out, 
with  instructions  to  inquire  into  the  state  of  affairs, 
and  to  gain  over  Spalatin  and  Pfeffinger,  the  elector's 
counsellors.  He  was  intrusted  with  private  letters  for 
them.  By  thus  conciliating  the  co-operation  of  those 
who  surrounded  the  elector,  Rome  expected  quickly 
to  become  the  mistress  of  her  now  formidable  adver- 
sary. 

The  new  legate  arrived  in  Germany  in  December, 
1518,  and  endeavoured,  in  the  course  of  his  journey, 
to  sound  the  general  opinion.  To  his  extreme  aston- 
ishment, he  noticed,  wherever  he  stopped,  that  the 
majority  of  the  inhabitants  were  favourable  to  the 
Reformation.  Men  spoke  of  Luther  with  enthusi- 

»  Nee  ab  usu  immoderate  vini  abstinuit    (Pallavicini,  vol 
i.p.69.) 


116 


FAVOURABLE  CIRCUMSTANCES— TETZEL'S  FEARS. 


asm.*  For  one  who  declared  himself  on  the  pope's  side 
he  found  three  against  him.f  Luther  has  preserved  an 
incident  that  occurred.  "  What  is  your  opinion  of  the 
see  (sedia)  of  Rome?"  often  inquired  the  legate,  of  the 
mistresses  and  domestics  of  the  inns.  One  day,  one 
of  these  poor  women  answered,  with  naivete  ;  "  Wha 
can  we  know  of  the  sort  of  chairs  (sedia)  you  have  a 
Rome,  whether  of  stone  or  wood  1"J 

The  mere  report  of  the  arrival  of  the  new  legate 
spread  suspicion  and  distrust  in  the  elector's  court 
the  university,  the  city  of  Wittemberg,  and  through- 
out Saxony.  "  Thank  God,  Martin  is  still  alive  !" 
wrote  Melancthon,  in  alarm,  §  It  was  whispered  that 
the  Roman  chamberlain  had  orders  to  get  Luther  into 
his  power,  by  stratagem  or  violence.  On  all  sides  the 
doctor  was  advised  to  be  on  his  guard  against  the 
snares  of  Miltitz.  "  He  is  sent,  said  they,  "  to  seize 
and  deliver  you  to  the  pope.  Persons  deserving  of 
credit  have  seen  the  brief  with  which  he  is  furnished." 
"  I  await  the  will  of  God,"  replied  Luther.ll 

Miltitz  had,  indeed,  arrived,  bearing  letters  ad- 
dressed to  the  elector,  his  counsellors,  the  bishops, 
and  the  burgomaster  of  Wittemberg.  He  brought 
with  him  seventy  apostolic  briefs.  If  the  flattery  and 
favours  of  Rome  were  successful,  and  Frederic  should 
deliver  up  Luther,  these  briefs  were  to  be  used  as 
passports.  It  was  his  plan  to  post  up  one  of  them  in 
each  of  the  towns  on  his  route,  and,  in  this  way,  to 
convey  his  prisoner  to  Rome  without  opposition.^ 

The  pope  seemed  to  have  taken  all  his  measures. 
In  the  elector's  court  they  scarce  knew  what  course  to 
pursue.  Violence  they  might  have  resisted,  but  what, 
to  oppose  to  the  head  of  Christendom,  uttering  the  lan- 
guage of  mildness  and  reason  1  Would  it  not  be  well- 
timed  if  Luther  could  lie  concealed  till  the  storm  should 
have  passed  by  1  An  unforeseen  event  came  to  the 
deliverance  of  Luther,  the  elector,  and  the  Reforma- 
tion, from  this  perplexing  position.  The  aspect  of  the 
world  was  suddenly  changed. 

On  the  12th  of  January,  1519,  died  Maximilian,  the 
Emperor  of  Germany.  Frederic  of  Saxony,  agreeably 
to  the  Germanic  constitution,  became  administrator  of 
the  empire.  From  that  moment  the  elector  was  re- 
lieved from  the  fear  of  nuncios  and  their  projects. 
New  interests  were  set  to  work  in  the  Roman  court, 
which  compelled  it  to  temporise  in  its  negotiations 
with  Frederic,  and  ariested  the  blow,  which,  it  cannot 
be  doubted,  Miltitz  and  de  Vio  had  meditated. 

The  pope  had  an  earnest  desire  to  exclude  from  the 
imperial  throne,  Charles  of  Austria,  then  the  reigning 
king  of  Naples.  A  neighbour  on  a  throne,  was,  in  his 
judgment,  more  to  be  feared  than  a  monk  of  Germany. 
Desiring  to  secure  the  co-operation  of  the  elector — 
who,  in  this  matter,  might  be  of  so  great  service,  he 
resolved  to  afford  some  respite  to  the  monk,  that  he 
might  the  better  counterwork  the  king.  In  spite  of 
this  policy,  both  made  progress.  It  formed,  however, 
the  motive  for  the  change  in  Leo  X.'s  proceedings. 

Another  circumstance  contributed  to  avert  the  storm 
that  impended  over  the  Reformation.  Political  trou- 
bles broke  out  immediately  after  the  emperor's  demise. 
In  the  south,  the  Suabian  confederation  sought  to 
avenge  itself  on  Ulric,  of  Wurtemberg,  who  had  broken 
his  allegiance.  In  the  north,  the  Bishop  of  Hilde- 
*  Sciscitus  per  viam  Mitilius  quanam  esset  in  sestimatione 
Lutherus  ....  sensit  de  eo  cum  admiratione  homines  loqui 
(Pallavicini,  torn,  i  p.  61.) 

t  Ecce  ubi  unum  pro  papa  stare  inveni  tres  pro  te  contra 
papam  stahant.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  in  pnef.) 

J-  Quid  nos  scire  possumus  quales  vos  Romse  habeatis  sellas. 
ligneasne  an  lapideas  1  (L.  Opp.  lat.  in  prjef.) 

^  Martinus  npster,  Deo  gratias,  adhuc  spirat.    Corpus  Re- 
formatorum  edidit  Bretschneider,  i.  p.  61. 
H  Expecto  consilium  Dei.  (L  Epp.  i.  p.  191.) 
f  Per  singula  oppida  affigeret  unum,  et  ita  tutus  mo  perdu- 
eeret  llomum.    (L.  Opp.  lat.  in  praef.) 


sheim  invaded,  with  an  armed  force,  the  bishopric  of 
Minden,  and  the  states  of  the  Duke  of  Brunswick. 
Amidst  these  confusions,  how  could  the  great  ones  of 
the  age  attach  importance  to  a  dispute  concerning  the 
remission  of  sins  1  But  God  made,  above  all,  conducive 
to  the  progress  of  the  Reformation,  the  reputation  of  the 
elector,  now  vicar  of  the  empire,  for  prudence,  and  the 
protection  he  afforded  to  the  new  teachers.  "  The  tem- 
pest was  hushed,"  says  Luther ;  "  the  papal  excom- 
munication began  to  be  thought  light  of."  Under  shel- 
ter of  the  elector,  the  Gospel  spread  itself  abroad,  and 
hence  no  small  damage  to  the  cause  of  the  papacy.* 

We  may  add,  that  during  an  interregnum  the  seve- 
rest prohibitions  naturally  lost  much  of  their  authority. 
Communication  became  more  open  and  easy.  The 
ray  of  liberty  that  beamed  upon  those  first  beginnings 
of  the  Reformation,  helped  materially  to  develop  the 
yet  tender  plant ;  and  a  thoughtful  observer  might 
even  then  have  discerned  how  favourable  political 
liberty  would  one  day  be  to  the  progress  of  evangelic 
Christianity. 

Miltitz,  who  had  reached  Saxony,  before  the  death 
of  Maximilian,  had  lost  no  time  in  visiting  his  former 
friend,  Spalatin  ;  but  scarcely  did  he  begin  to  open  his 
charges  against  Luther — before  the  chaplain  broke  out 
in  complaint  against  Tetzel.  He  acquainted  the 
Nuncio  with  the  falsehoods  and  blasphemies  of  the 
vender  of  indulgences,  and  declared  that  all  Germany 
ascribed  to  the  Dominican's  proceedings  the  dissen- 
sions that  distracted  the  Church. 

Miltitz  was  astonished.  Instead  of  accuser,  he  found 
tiimself  in  the  place  of  one  accused.  His  wrath  was 
instantly  turned  against  Tetzel;  and  he  summoned 
him  to  appear  before  him  at  Altenburg,  and  account 
for  his  conduct. 

The  Dominican,  as  cowardly  as  he  was  boastful, 
dreading  the  people  whose  indignation  had  been  roused 
ay  his  impostures,  had  discontinued  his  progresses 
throught  the  towns  and  provinces,  and  was  then  living 
n  retirement  in  the  college  of  St.  Paul.  He  turned 
sale  on  the  receipt  of  Miltitz's  letter.  Rome,  herself 
seemed  to  abandon  him — to  condemn  him — and  to 
tempt  him  to  quit  the  only  asylum  in  which  he  reckon- 
ed himself  safe — as  if  to  expose  him  to  the  anger  of 
lis  enemies.  Tetzel  refused  to  obey  the  Nuncio's 
summons.  He  wrote  to  Miltitz,  on  the  31st  Decem- 
)er,  1518 — "  Certainly  I  would  not  shrink  from  the 
atigue  of  the  journey,  if  I  could  leave  Leipsic  without 
risking  my  life — but  Martin  Luther  has  so  roused  and 
excited  powerful  chiefs  against  me,  that  I  am  no  where 
safe.  A  great  number  of  his  partisans  have  bound 
hemselves  by  oath  to  put  me  to  death  ;  therefore,  I 
cannot  come  to  you."*  A  striking  contrast  between 
he  two  men  then  dwelling,  one  in  the  college  of  St. 
Paul  at  Leipsic,  and  the  other  in  the  cloister  of  St. 
Augustine  at  Wittemberg.  The  servant  of  God  mani- 
rested  an  interprepid  courage  in  the  face  of  danger — 
he  servants  of  men  betrayed  a  contemptible  cowardice. 

Miltitz  had  been  directed  in  the  first  intance  to  try 
he  effect  of  persuasion  ;  and  it  was  only  on  the  failure 
>f  this,  that  he  was  to  produce  his  seventy  briefs,  and 
)lay  off  the  favours  of  Rome,  so  as  to  induce  the 
Elector  to  restrain  Luther.  He  therefore  expressed  a 
wish  for  an  interview  with  the  Reformer.  Spalatin, 
.heir  common  friend,  offered  his  house  for  the  purpose, 
md  Luther  left  Wittemberg,  for  Altenburg,  on  the  2d 
)r  3d  of  January. 

In  this  interview  Miltitz  exhausted  all  the  stratagems 
of  a  diplomatist  and  Roman  courtier.  At  the  instant 
of  Luther's  arrival,  the  Nuncio  approached  him  with 

Tune  desiit  paululum  sasvire  tempestas  .  .  .  .  L.  Opp« 
at.  in  prsef. 
f  Loscher,  ii.  67. 


RETRACTION— LUTHER  PROPOSES  SILENCE— THE  LEGATE'S  KISS. 


117 


great  show  of  friendship — "  Oh,"  thought  Luther, 
"  how  is  his  former  violence  changed  to  gentleness. 
The  second  Saul  came  to  Germany  the  bearer  of 
seventy  briefs,  authorising  him  to  drag  rne  in  chains 
to  that  homicide,  Rome,  but  the  Lord  has  thrown 
him  to  the  earth  in  the  way."*  "  Dear  Martin,"  said 
the  Pope's  chamberlain,  in  a  persuasive  tone,  "  I 
thought  you  were  an  old  theologian,  who,  quietly  seated 
at  his  fireside,  had  certain  theological  crotchets,  but  I 
see  you  are  yet  young,  and  in  the  prime  of  life."t 

"  Do  you  know,"  continued  he,  assuming  a  graver 
tone,  "  that  you  have  drawn  away  all  the  world  from 
the  Pope."t  Miltitz  well  knew  that  it  is  by  flattering  the 
pride  of  men  that  they  are  most  readily  deluded — but 
he  did  not  know  the  man  he  had  to  deal  with. 

"  Even  if  I  were  backed  by  an  army  of  twenty-five 
thousand  men,"  continued  he,  "  1  truly  would  not  un- 
dertake to  kidnap  and  carry  you  to  Rome."§  Thus, 
notwithstanding  her  power,  Rome  felt  weak  when  op- 
posed to  a  poor  monk,  and  the  monk  was  conscious  of 
strength  in  his  opposition  to  Rome.  "  God  arrests  the 
billows  on  the  shore,"  said  Luther,  "  and  he  does  so 
with  the  sand  !"|| 

The  Nuncio,  thinkinging  he  had  by  these  flatteries 
prepared  the  mind  of  Luther,  thus  continued  :  "  Be 
persuaded,  and  yourself  staunch  the  wound  you  have 
inflicted  on  the  Church,  and  which  none  but  yourself 
can  heal.  Beware,  I  beseech  you,"  he  added,  "  of 
raising  a  storm,  in  which  the  best  interests  of  mankind 
would  be  wrecked. "1T  And  then  he  gradually  proceed- 
ed to  hint  that  a.  retraction  was  the  only  way  of  remedy- 
ing the  evil,  but  instantly  softened  the  objectionable 
word  by  expressions  of  high  esteem  for  Luther,  and 
indignation  against  Tetzel.  The  net  was  spread  by  a 
skill ul  hand — what  hope  of  escape  from  its  meshes  I 

"  If  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  had  acted  thus  with 
me  from  the  first,"  said  Luther,  at  a  later  period, 
"  this  matter  had  not  made  the  noise  it  has  done."** 

Luther  spoke  out :  enumerated  with  calmness,  yet 
with  earnestness  and  energy,  the  just  complaints  of  the 
Church  ;  he  gave  free  expression  to  his  indignation 
against  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  and  boldly  complain- 
ed of  the  unworthy  manner  in  which  the  Roman  Court 
Lad  treated  him,  notwithstanding  the  purity  of  his  in- 
tentions. 

Miltitz,  who  had  not  expected  so  decided  a  tone, 
nevertheless  suppressed  his  anger.  "  I  offer,"  said 
Luther,  "  from  this  time  forth,  to  keep  silence  on  these 
things,  and  to  let  the  matter  die  away, ft  provided  my 
enemies  are  reduced  to  silence ;  but  if  they  continue 
their  attack,  we  shall  very  soon  see  a  partial  dispute 
give  rise  to  a  serious  struggle.  My  weapons  are  ready 
prepared."  After  a  moment's  pause,  he  continued, 
"  I  will  even  go  a  step  further.  I  will  write  to  his 
holiness,  acknowledging  that  I  have  been  a  little  too 
violent;  and  declare  that  it  is  as  a  faithful  son  of  the 
Church  that  I  have  opposed  a  style  of  preaching  which 
drew  upon  it  the  mockeries  and  insults  of  the  people. 
I  even  consent  to  put  forth  a  writing,  wherein  I  will 
desire  all  who  shall  read  my  works,  not  to  see  in  them 
any  attack  on  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  to  continue  in 
submission  to  its  authority.  Yes,  I  am  willing  to  do 

*  Sed  per  viam  a  Domino  postratus  ....  mutavit  violenti- 
am  in  benevolentiam  fallacissime  simulatam.  (L.  Epp.  1. 206.) 
|  O  Marline,  ego  crcdebam  te  esse  senem  aliquem  theologum, 
qui  povt  fornacem  sedens  .  .  .  .  (L.  Opp.  lat.  in  praef.) 

i  Quod  ordem  totum  mihi  conjunxerim  et  papa?  abstraxe- 
rim.  IL  Epp.  1  231.) 

<5  Si  haberem  25  millia  armatorum,  non  confiderem  te  posse 
a  me  Romam  perduci.  (L.  Opp.  in  praef.) 

||  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii. 

IT  Piofusis  lacrvmis  ipsum  oravit.ne  tarn  pesniciosam  Chris- 
tiano  generi  tempestatem  cieret.  (Pallavicini,  1.  &1.) 

**  Non  evasisset  res  in  tautum  umultum.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  in 
praef.) 

ft  Und  die  Sache  sich  zu  Tode  bluten.    (L.  Epp.  i.  207.) 


everything,  and  bear  everything :  but  as  to  a  retrao- 
.ion,  don't  expect  it  from  me." 

Miltitz  saw,  by  Luther's  resolute  manner,  that  the 
wisest  course  was  to  seem  satisfied  with  what  the  Re- 
brmer  was  willing  to  promise.  He  merely  proposed 
that  they  should  name  an  Archbishop  as  arbitrator  on 
some  of  the  points  they  would  have  to  discuss.  "  Be 
t  so,"  said  Luther — "  but  I  much  fear  that  the  Pope 
will  not  accept  of  any  judge  ;  if  so,  I  will  not  abide  by 
the  Pope's  decision,  and  then  the  dispute  will  begin 
again.  The  pope  will  give  us  the  text,  and  I  will  make 
my  own  commentary  on  it," 

Thus  ended  the  first  interview  of  Luther  with  Miltitz. 
They  met  once  again,  and  at  this  meeting  the  truce,  or 
rather  the  peace,  was  signed.  Luther  immediately 
gave  information  to  the  Elector  of  all  that  had  passed. 

"  Most  serene  Prince  and  gracious  Lord,"  wrote 
be,  "  I  hasten  humbly  to  inform  your  Electoral  High- 
ness that  Charles  Miltitz  and  myself  are  at  last  agreed, 
and  have  terminated  our  differences  by  the  following 
articles  : 

;t  1.  Both  sides  are  forbidden  to  write  or  act,  hence- 
forward, in  the  question  that  has  been  raised. 

14  Miltitz  will,  without  delay,  communicate  to  his 
Holiness,  the  state  of  affairs.  His  Holiness  will  com- 
mission an  enlightened  bishop  to  inquire  into  the  affair, 
and  to  point  out  the  erroneous  articles  which  I  am  to 
retract.  If  proof  is  afforded  me  that  I  am  in  error,  I 
will  gladly  retract,  and  never  more  do  anything  that 
can  lessen  the  honour  or  authority  of  the  holy  Roman 
Church."* 

The  agreement  thus  effected,  Miltitz's  joy  broke 
forth.  "  For  a  century,"  said  he,  "  no  question  has 
caused  more  anxiety  to  the  Cardinals  and  Court  of 
Rome.  They  would  have  given  ten  thousand  ducats 
rather  than  see  it  prolonged."! 

The  Pope's  chamberlain  spared  no  marks  of  atten- 
tion to  the  monk  of  Wittemberg  ;  one  moment  he 
expressed  his  satisfaction,  the  next,  he  shed  tears. 
These  demonstrations  of  sensibility  but  little  moved 
the  Reformer,  yet  he  avoided  betraying  what  he 
thought  of  them.  "  I  feigned  not  to  understand  the 
meaning  of  those  crocodile  tears,"  said  he.  The  cro- 
codile is  said  to  weep  when  it  is  unable  to  seize  on 
its  prey.t 

Miltitz  invited  Luther  to  supper.  The  doctor  ac- 
cepted the  invitation.  His  host  laid  aside  the  dignity 
of  his  function,  and  Luther  gave  free  vent  to  the  cheer- 
fulness of  his  natural  temper.  The  repast  was  joy- 
ous ;$  and,  the  moment  of  adieu  arriving,  the  Legate 
opened  his  arms  to  the  heretic  doctor,  and  saluted 
him.  II  "  A  Judas  kiss,"  thought  Luther.  "  I  affected 
not  to  understand  these  Italian  manners,"  wrote  he 
to  Staupitz.lT 

Would  that  salute  indeed  make  reconciliation  be- 
tween Rome  and  the  dawning  Reformation  1  Miltitz 
hoped  it  might,  and  rejoiced  in  the  hope  ;  for  he  had 
a  nearer  view  than  the  Roman  Court  could  take  of 
the  terrible  effect  the  Reformation  was  likely  to  pro- 
duce on  the  Papacy.  If  Luther  and  his  opponents  are 
silenced,  said  he,  to  himself,  the  dispute  will  be  ter- 
minated ;  and  Rome,  by  skilfully  calling  up  new  cir- 
cumstances, will  regain  her  former  influence.  To  all 
appearance,  therefore,  the  struggle  was  nearly  passed 

*  L.  Epp.  i.,  p.  209. 

t  Ab  integro  jam  saeculo  nullum  negptium  Ecclesise  con- 
tigisse  quod  majorem  illi  sollicitudinem  incussisset.  (Pallav. 
t.  i.,  p.  52  ) 

{  Ego  dissimulabam  has  crocodili  lacrymas  a  me  intelligi. 
(L.  Epp.  i.,  p.  216.) 

^  Atque  vesperi,  me  accepto,  convivio  laetati  sumus.  (Ibid. 
231.) 

||  Sic  amice  discessimus  etiam  cum  osculo  (Judse  scilicet.) 
(L.  Epp.  i.,  p.  216.) 

ITHasItalitates.    (Ibid.  231.) 


118          TETZEL  REBUKED— LUTHER'S  LETTER— OPPOSED  TO  SEPARATION. 


— Rome  had  opened  her  arms,  and  the  Reformer  had 
cast  himself  into  them.  But  this  work  was  not  of 
man,  but  of  God.  It  was  the  mistake  of  Rome  to  see 
only  a  controversy  with  a  monk,  in  what  was  in  reality 
a  revival  of  the  Church.  The  kisses  of  a  papal  cham- 
berlain could  not  arrest  the  renewal  of  Christianity. 

Miltitz,  acting  on  the  agreement  that  he  had  just 
concluded,  repaired  from  Altenburg  to  Leipsic,  where 
Tetzel  was  then  residing.  There  was  no  need  to 
enjoin  silence  on  the  Dominican,  for  he  would  gladly 
have  sought,  if  possible,  to  hide  himself  in  the  bowels 
of  the  earth ;  but  the  Nuncio  resolved  to  vent  his 
wrath  upon  him.  On  arriving  at  Leipsic  he  cited  him 
before  him.  He  overwhelmed  him  with  reproaches, 
accused  him  of  being  the  cause  of  all  the  evil,  and 
threatened  him  with  the  Pope's  anger.*  He  went 
farther  :  the  agent  of  the  house  of  Fugger,  who  was 
then  at  Leipsic,  was  confronted  with  him.  Miltitz 
exhibited  to  the  Dominican  the  accounts  of  that  house, 
papers  that  bore  his  own  signature  !  and  demonstrated 
that  he  had  squandered,  or  appropriated  to  his  own 
use,  considerable  sums.  The  unhappy  man,  whom, 
in  the  day  of  his  triumph,  nothing  could  abash,  was 
struck  motionless  by  these  well-founded  charges.  He 
shrunk,  despairingly — his  health  gave  way — and  he 
knew  not  where  to  hide  his  shame.  Luther  received 
intelligence  of  the  miserable  fate  of  his  former  adver- 
sary, and  seems  to  have  been  the  only  person  concerned 
for  him.  "  I  pity  Tetzel,"  wrote  he  to  Spalatin.f 
He  did  not  stop  there.  It  was  not  the  man,  but  his 
actions,  that  he  had  hated.  At  the  very  time  when 
Rome  was  pouring  wrath  upon  him,  Luther  wrote  to 
him  a  letter  of  consolation.  But  all  was  in  vain  ! 
Tetzel,  haunted  by  the  remorse  of  conscience,  alarmed 
by  the  reproaches  of  his  dearest  friends,  and,  dreading 
the  anger  of  the  Pope,  died  miserably  shortly  after- 
ward. I  was  commonly  believed  that  grief  had  hast- 
ened his  end.t 

Luther,  in  fulfilment  of  the  promises  that  he  had 
made  to  Miltitz,  wrote  to  the  Pope,  on  the  3d  of 
March,  as  follows  : — "  Most  Holy  Father, — May  your 
Holiness  condescend  to  incline  your  paternal  ear, 
which  is  that  of  Christ  himself,  toward  your  poor 
sheep,  and  listen,  with  kindness,  to  his  bleating. 
What  shall  I  do,  most  holy  father  ?  I  cannot  stand 
against  the  torrent  of  your  anger,  and  I  know  no  way 
of  escape.  They  require  of  me  that  I  should  retract. 
I  would  be  prompt  to  do  so,  if  that  could  lead  to  the 
result  they  desire.  But  the  persecutions  of  my  ene- 
mies have  spread  my  writings  far  and  wide,  and  they 
are  too  deeply  engraven  on  the  hearts  of  men  to  be, 
by  possibility,  erased  A  retraction  would  only  still 
more  dishonour  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  call  forth 
from  all  a  cry  of  accusation  against  her.  Most  holy 
father,  I  declare  it  in  the  presence  of  God,  and  of  all 
the  world,  I  never  have  sought,  nor  will  I  ever  seek, 
to  weaken,  by  force  or  artifice,  the  power  of  the  Ro- 
man Church,  or  your  Holiness.  I  confess  that  there 
is  nothing  in  heaven  or  earth  that  should  be  preferred 
above  that  church,  save  only  Jesus  Christ,  the  Lord  of 
all:"* 

These  words  might  appear  strange,  and  even  repre- 
hensible, in  Luther,  if  we  failed  to  bear  in  mind  that 
the  light  broke  in  upon  him,  not  suddenly,  but  by  slow 
and  progressive  degrees.  They  are  evidence  of  the 
important  truth,  that  the  Reformation  was  not  a  mere 

»  Verbis  minisque  pontificis  ita  fregit  hominem,  hactenus 
terribilem  eunctis  et  imperterritum  stentorem.  (L.  Opp.  in 
praef.) 

t  Doleo  Totzelium  . . .  .  (L.  Epp.  i.,  P.  223.) 

J  Sed  conscientia  indignati  Papae  forte  occubuit.  (L  Opp. 
in  praef.) 

§  Prater  unum  Jesum  Christum  Dominant  omnium.  (L. 
Epp.  i.,  p.  234.) 


opposition  to  the  Papacy.  It  was  not  a  war  waged 
against  a  certain  form  or  condition  of  things,  neither 
was  it  the  result  of  any  negative  tendency.  Opposi- 
tion to  the  Pope  was  its  secondary  sign.  A  new  life, 
a  positive  doctrine,  was  its  generating  principle — 
"  Jesus  Christ,  the  Lord  of  all,  and  who  should  be 
preferred  before  all,"  and  above  Rome  herself,  as  Lu- 
ther intimates  in  the  latter  words  of  his  letter.  Such 
was  essentially  the  cause  of  the  Revolution  of  the  six- 
teenth century. 

It  is  probable,  that  a  short  time  previous  to  the 
period  we  are  recording,  the  Pope  would  not  have 
passed  over,  unnoticed,  a  letter,  in  which  the  monk 
of  Wittemberg  flatly  refused  any  retraction.  But 
Maximilian  was  no  more ;  it  was  a  question  who  was 
to  succeed  him,  and  Luther's  letter  was  disregarded 
in  the  midst  of  the  political  intrigues  which  then  agi- 
tated the  city  of  the  pontiffs. 

The  Reformer  turned  his  time  to  better  account 
than  his  potent  enemy.  While  Leo  the  Tenth,  ab- 
sorbed in  his  interests  as  a  temporal  prince,  was  strain- 
ing every  nerve  to  exclude  a  formidable  neighbour 
from  the  throne,  Luther  daily  grew  in  knowledge  and 
in  faith.  He  studied  the  decretals  of  the  Popes,  and 
the  discoveries  he  made,  materially  modified  his  ideas. 
He  wrote  to  Spalatin — "  I  am  reading  the  decretals 
of  the  pontiffs,  and,  let  me  whisper  it  in  your  ear,  I 
know  not  whether  the  Pope  is  Antichrist  himself,  or 
whether  he  is  his  apostle  ;  so  misrepresented,  and 
even  crucified,  does  Christ  appear  in  them.''*' 

Yet  he  still  esteemed  the  ancient  Church  of  Rome, 
and  entertained  no  thought  of  separation  from  it. 
"That  the  Roman  Church,"  said  he,  "is  more  ho- 
noured by  God  than  all  others,  is  not  to  be  doubted. 
St.  Peter,  St.  Paul,  forty-six  popes,  some  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  martyrs,  have  laid  down  their  lives  in 
its  communion,  having  overcome  hell  and  the  world, 
so  that  the  eyes  of  God  rest  on  the  Roman  Church 
with  special  favour.  Though,  now-a-days,  everything 
there  is  in  a  wretched  state,  it  is  no  ground  for  sepa- 
rating from  it.  On  the  contrary,  the  worse  things  are 
going,  the  more  should  we  hold  close  to  it ;  for  it  is 
not  by  separation  from  it  that  we  can  make  it  better. 
We  must  not  separate  from  God  on  account  of  any 
work  of  the  devil,  nor  cease  to  have  fellowship  with 
the  children  of  God,  who  are  still  abiding  in  the  pale 
of  Rome,  on  account  of  the  multitude  of  the  ungodly. 
There  is  no  sin,  no  amount  of  evil,  which  should  be 
permitted  to  dissolve  the  bond  of  charity  or  break  the 
unity  of  the  body.  For  love  can  do  all  things,  and 
nothing  is  difficult  to  those  who  are  united. "t 

It  was  not  Luther  who  separated  himself  from 
Rome,  but  Rome  that  separated  herself  from  Luther ; 
and,  in  so  doing,  put  from  her  the  ancient  faith  of  that 
Catholic  Church  which  she  then  represented.  It  was 
not  Luther  who  took  from  Rome  her  power,  and 
obliged  her  bishop  to  descend  from  a  throne  that  had 
been  usurped :  the  doctrines  he  proclaimed,  the  word 
of  the  apostles,  which  God  again  made  known  in  the 
Church,  with  power  and  clearness,  were  alone  effec- 
tual to  dethrone  the  tyranny  that  had,  for  centuries, 
enslaved  the  Church. 

These  declarations  of  Luther,  published  toward  the 
end  of  February,  were  not  such  as  were  altogether 
satisfactory  to  Miltitz  and  De  Vio.  These  two  vul- 
tures had  both  seen  their  prey  escape  them,  and  had 
retired  within  the  walls  of  ancient  Treves.  There, 
under  favour  of  the  Archbishop,  they  nourished  the 
hope  of  accomplishing,  by  their  union,  the  purpose 
each  had,  separately,  failed  to  effect.  The  two  Nun- 

*  Nescio  an  Papa  sit  Antichristus  ipse  Tel  apostolus  ejus. 
(L.  Epp.  i.  239.) 
i   L.  Opp.  L.  xvii.  324. 


DE  VIO  AND  MILTITZ  AT  TREVES— LUTHER'S  WRITINGS. 


119 


cios  saw,  plainly,  that  nothing  was  to  be  expected 
from  Frederic,  now  invested  with  supreme  power. 
They  saw  that  Luther  persisted  in  his  refusal  to 
retract.  The  only  chance  of  success  consisted  in 
depriving  the  heretical  monk  of  the  Elector's  counte- 
nance, and  then  inveigling  him  within  their  reach. 
Once  at  Treves,  in  a  state  subject  to  a  prince  of  the 
church,  and  no  cunning  will  deliver  him,  till  he  shall 
have  fully  satisfied  the  requirement*  of  the  Pontiff. 
They  went  to  work  without  delay.  "  Luther,"  said 
Miltitz  to  the  Elector,  Archbishop  of  Treves,  "  has 
accepted  the  arbitration  of  your  Grace  :  we  request 
you,  therefore,  to  summon  him  before  you."  The 
Elector  of  Treves  accordingly  wrote,  on  the  3d  of  May, 
to  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  requesting  him  to  send 
Luther  to  him.  De  Vio,  and  shortly  after,  Miltitz 
himself,  repaired  to  Frederic,  to  announce  to  him  that 
the  Golden  Rose  had  arrived  at  Augsburg,  consigned 
to  the  care  of  the  Fuggers.  The  moment,  they 
thought,  had  arrived  for  striking  a  decisive  blow. 

But  affairs  were  changed — neither  Frederic  nor  Lu- 
ther was  moved  from  his  confidence.  The  Elector 
comprehended  his  new  position,  and  no  longer  feared 
the  Pope,  much  less  his  agents.  The  Reformer,  see- 
ing Miltitz  and  De  Vio  united,  foresaw  the  fate  that 
awaited  him,  if  he  complied  with  their  summons. 
"  On  all  sides,"  said  he,  "  my  life  is  waylaid."*  Be- 
sides, he  had  appealed  to  the  Pope,  and  the  Pope, 
busy  in  intrigues  with  crowned  heads,  had  not  answered 
his  appeal.  Luther  wrote  to  Miltitz,  "  How  can  I  set 
out  without  an  order  from  Rome,  in  these  troublous 
times  1  How  can  I  expose  myself  to  so  many  dan- 
gers, and  such  heavy  expense,  poor  as  I  am  1" 

The  Elector  of  Treves,  a  prudent  and  moderate 
man,  and  connected,  by  relations  of  friendship,  with 
Frederic,  resolved  to  consult  the  interests  of  the  latter. 
He  had  no  wish  to  interfere,  unless  positively  required 
to  do  so.  He,  therefore,  carne  to  an  agreement  with 
the  Elector  of  Saxony,  to  adjourn  the  examination  to 
the  ensuing  Diet — and  it  was  not  until  two  years  after 
that  the  Diet  assembled. 

While  the  dangers  that  threatened  Luther  were  thus 
warded  off  by  a  providential  hand,  he  himself  was 
boldly  advancing  to  a  result  he  did  not  discern.  His 
reputation  was  increased,  the  cause  of  truth  gained 
strength,  the  number  of  students  at  Wittemberg  in- 
creased, and,  among  them,  were  found  the  most  dis- 
tinguished youth  of  Germany.  "  Our  city,"  wrote 
Luther,  "  can  scarce  hold  the  numbers  who  are  arriv- 
ing ;"  and,  on  another  occasion,  he  observes,  "  The 
students  increase  upon  us  like  an  overflowing  tide."f 

But,  already,  the  Reformer's  voice  was  heard  beyond 
the  confines  of  Germany.  Passing  the  frontiers  of  the 
empire,  it  had  begun  to  shake  the  foundations  of  the 
Roman  power  among  the  several  nations  of  Christen- 
dom. Frobenius,  the  celebrated  printer  of  Basle,  had 
put  forth  a  collection  of  Luther's  writings.  They  cir- 
culated rapidly.  At  Basle,  the  bishop  himself  com- 
mended Luther.  The  Cardinal  of  Sion,  after  reading 
his  works,  exclaimed,  with  an  ironical  play  on  his  name, 
"  O  Luther !  thou  art  a  true  Luther,"  (a  purifier,  lau- 
tarer) 

Erasmus  was  at  Louvain  when  the  writings  of  Lu- 
ther were  received  in  the  Low  Countries.  The  Prior 
of  the  Augustines  of  Antwerp,  who  had  studied  at 
Wittemberg,  and  acquired,  according  to  the  testimony 
of  Erasmus,  a  knowledge  of  primitive  Christianity, 
read  them  with  eagerness,  as  did  other  Belgians.  But 
those  who  were  intent  only  on  their  own  selfish  in- 
terests, remarks  Erasmus,  men  who  fed  the  people  with 

*  Video  ubique,  undique,  quocumque  modo,  animam  meam 
qucnri. 
f  Sicut  aqua  inundans.    L.  Epp.  i.  p.  278,  279 


old  wives'  tales,  broke  out  in  angry  fanaticism.  I 
cannot  tell  you,"  wrote  Erasmus  to  Luther,  "  the  emo- 
tion and  truly  tragic  agitation  your  writings  have  occa- 
sioned."* 

Frobenius  sent  600  copies  of  these  writings  to  France 
and  Spain.  They  were  publicly  sold  in  Paris ;  the 
Sorbonne  doctors  read  them  with  approbation,  as  it 
would  appear.  It  was  high  time,  said  some  of  them, 
that  those  who  devoted  themselves  to  biblical  studies, 
should  speak  out  freely.  In  England,  these  books 
were  received  with  still  greater  eagerness.  Some 
Spanish  merchants  translated  them  into  Spanish,  and 
forwarded  them  from  Antwerp  to  their  own  country. 

Assuredly,"  says  Pallavicini,  these  merchants  must 
have  been  of  Moorish  blood. "t 

Calvi,  a  learned  bookseller  of  Pavia,  took  a  large 
quantity  of  copies  to  Italy,  and  distributed  them  in  the 
transalpine  cities.  It  was  no  desire  of  gain  that  in- 
spired this  man  of  letters,  but  a  wish  to  contribute  to 
the  revival  of  the  love  of  God.  The  power  with  which 
Luther  maintained  the  cause  of  Christ  filled  him  with 
joy.  "  All  the  learned  men  of  Italy,"  wrote  he,  "  will 
unite  with  me,  and  we  will  send  you  tributary  verses 
from  our  most  distinguished  writers." 

Frobenius,  in  transmitting  to  Luther  a  copy  of  his 
publication,  related  these  joyful  tidings,  and  thus  con- 
tinued : — "  I  have  sold  all  the  impressions  except  ten 
copies,  and  no  speculation  ever  answered  my  purpose 
so  well  as  this."  Other  letters  informed  Luther  of  the 
joy  his  writings  diffused.  "  I  am  delighted,"  said  he, 
'that  the  truth  is  found  so  pleasing,  although  she  speaks 
with  little  learning,  and  in  stammering  accents.''^ 

Such  was  the  commencement  of  the  awakening  in 
the  several  countries  of  Europe.  If  we  except  Swit- 
zerland, where  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  had  been 
already  heard,  the  arrival  of  the  Doctor  of  Wittemberg's 
writings  everywhere  forms  the  first  page  in  the  history 
of  the  Reformation.  A  printer  of  Basle  scattered  the 
first  germs  of  truth.  At  the  moment  when  the  Roman 
Pontiff  thought  to  stifle  the  work  in  Germany,  it  began 
to  manifest  itself  in  France,  the  Low  Countries,  Italy, 
Spain,  England,  and  Switzerland.  Even  though  the 
power  of  Rome  should  fell  the  parent  stem  ....  the 
seeds  are  henceforth  spread  abroad  in  all  lands. 

While  the  conflict  was  beginning  beyond  the  limits 
of  the  empire,  it  seemed  to  be  suspended  within.  The 
most  turbulent  allies  of  Rome,  the  Franciscan  monks 
of  Juterbok,  who  had  imprudently  attacked  Luther,  had 
retired  in  silence  after  a  vigorous  reply  from  the  Re- 
former. The  pope's  partisans  were  no  longer  heard 
— Tetzel  was  incapable  of  any  movement.  The  friends 
of  Luther  entreated  him  to  give  over  further  contest, 
and  he  had  promised  to  do  so.  The  theses  were  be- 
ginning to  be  forgotten.  This  hollow  peace  struck 
powerless  the  eloquence  of  the  Reformer.  The  Refor- 
mation appeared  arrested  in  its  progress — "But,"  ob- 
served Luther,  speaking  subsequently  of  this  period, 
"  men  were  forming  vain  schemes,  for  the  Lord  had 
arisen  to  judge  among  the  nations. "§  Elsewhere  we 
find  him  exclaiming,  "  God  does  not  conduct,  but  drives 
me,  and  carries  me  forward.  I  am  not  master  of  my 
own  actions.  I  would  gladly  live  in  peace,  but  I  am 
cast  into  the  midst  of  tumult  and  changes."!! 

The  scholastic  Eck,  author  of  the  Obelisks,  and 
Luther's  early  friend,  was  the  first  to  re-commence  the 
combat.  He  was  sincerely  attached  to  the  Papacy  ; 

*  Nullo  sermone  consequi  qneam,  quas  tragcedias  hie  exci- 
tarint  fui  iibelli  .  .  .  (Erasm.  Epp.  vi.  4.) 

t  Maurorum  stirpe  prognatis.      (Pallavicini,  i.  91-) 

}  In  his  id  gaudeo,  quod  veritas,  tarn  barbare  et  indocte  lo- 
quens,  adeo  placet.  (L.  Epp.  i.  055.) 

$  Dominusevigilavitetstatadjudicandospopulos.  (L.Opp. 
lat  in.  prsef.) 

||  Deus  rapit,  pellit,  nedum  ducit  me  ;  non  sum  compos  mei 
volo  esse  quietus,  et  rapior  in  medios  tumultos.  (L.  Epp.  i.  231) 


120 


ECK— THE  POPE'S  AUTHORITY— LUTHER  ANSWERS. 


but  he  appears  to  have  been  a  stranger  to  the  religion 
of  the  heart,  and  to  have  been  of  that  class,  too  numer- 
ous in  every  age,  who  look  upon  science,  and  even 
upon  theology  and  religion,  as  means  of  advancement 
in  the  world.  Vain  glory  dwells  under  the  cassock  of 
the  pastor,  as  well  as  under  the  arrnour  of  the  warrior. 
Eck  had  applied  himself  to  the  logic  of  the  schools, 
and  was  acknowledged  an  adept  in  this  kind  of  contro- 
versy. While  the  knights  of  the  middle  ages,  and  the 
warriors  of  the  age  of  the  Reformation,  sought  glory  in 
tournaments,  the  scholastic  pedants  contended  for  dis- 
tinction in  those  syllogistic  discussions  for  which  the 
academies  often  afforded  a  stage.  Eck,  full  of  confi- 
dence in  himself,  and  proud  of  the  popularity  of  his 
cause,  and  of  the  prizes  he  had  won  in  eight  universi- 
ties of  Hungary,  Lombardy,  and  Germany,  ardently 
desired  an  opportunity  of  displaying  his  ability  and  ad- 
dress. The  "  obscure  monk,"  who  had  so  suddenly 
grown  into  a  giant — this  Luther,  whom  no  one  had 
hitherto  humbled — offended  his  pride  and  aroused  his 
jealousy.*  It  may  have  occurred  to  him,  that  in  seek- 
ing his  own  glory  he  might  ruin  the  cause  of  Rome  . . 
.  .  But  scholastic  pride  was  not  to  be  checked  by  such 
a  thought.  Divines,  as  well  as  princes,  have  at  times 
sacrificed  the  general  weal  to  their  own  personal  glory. 
We  shall  see  what  particular  circumstance  afforded  the 
Doctor  of  Ingolstadt  the  desired  opportunity  of  enter- 
ing the  lists  with  his  rival. 

The  zealous,  but  too  ardent  Carlstadt,  was  still  in 
communication  with  Luther ;  they  were  also  especially 
united  by  their  attachment  to  the  doctrine  of  grace,  and 
by  their  admiration  for  St.  Augustine.  Of  enthusias- 
tic character  and  small  discretion,  Carlstadt  was  not  a 
man  to  be  restrained  by  the  skill  and  policy  of  a  Miltitz. 
He  had  published  against  Eck's  obelisks  some  theses, 
wherein  he  espoused  the  opinions  of  Luther,  and  their 
common  faith.  Eck  had  put  forth  a  reply,  and  Carlstadt 
had  not  left  him  the  advantage  of  the  last  word.t  The 
discussion  grew  warm.  Eck,  desiring  to  profit  by  the 
opportunity,  had  thrown  down  the  gauntlet,  and  the 
impetuous  Carlstadt  had  taken  it  up.  God  used  the 
passions  of  these  two  men  to  bring  about  his  purposes. 
Luther  had  taken  no  part  in  these  discussions,  and  yet 
he  was  destined  to  be  the  hero  of  the  struggle.  There 
are  some  men  who  by  the  necessity  of  the  case  are  con- 
tinually brought  forward  on  the  stage.  It  was  settled 
that  Leipsic  should  be  the  scene  of  the  discussion. 
This  was  the  origin  of  the  Leipsic  dispute,  afterwards 
so  famous. 

Eck  thought  it  a  small  thing  to  contest  the  question 
with  Carlstadt.  It  was  his  object  to  humble  Luther. 
He  therefore  sought  by  every  means  to  tempt  him  into 
the  field,  and  for  this  end  put  forth  thirteen  theses,t 
which  he  so  framed  as  to  bear  directly  on  the  principal 
doctrines  of  the  Reformer.  The  thirteenth  was  in 
these  words, — "  We  deny  that  the  authority  of  the 
Roman  Church  did  not  rise  above  that  of  other  churches 
before  the  time  of  Pope  Sylvester ;  and  we  acknow- 
ledge in  every  .age  as  successor  of  St.  Peter,  and  vicar 
of  Jesus  Christ,  he  who  was  seated  in  the  chair  and 
held  the  faith  of  St.  Peter."  Sylvester  lived  in  the 
time  of  ConsUntine  the  Great ;  Eck,  therefore,  in  this 
thesis,  denied  that  the  primacy  possessed  by  Rome 
was  given  to  it  by  that  Emperor. 

Luther,  who  had  consented,  not  without  reluctance, 
to  remain  silent,  was  deeply  moved  as  he  read  these 
propositions.  He  saw  that  they  were  directed  against 
him,  and  felt  that  he  could  not  decline  the  challenge 


*  Nihil  cuplebat  ardentius,  quam  sui  specimen  pr 
solemn!  disputatione  cum  semulo.  (Pallavicini,  tc 
25.) 

f  Defensio  advcrsus  Eckii  monomachiam, 

}  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  242. 


:aebere  in 


without  disgrace.  "  That  man,"  said  he,  "  declares 
Carlstadt  to  be  his  antagonist,  and  at  the  same  moment 
attacks  me.  But  God  reigns.  He  knows  what  it  is 
that  He  will  bring  out  of  this  tragedy.*  It  matters 
little  how  it  affects  Doctor  Eck  or  me.  The  purpose 
of  God  must  be  fulfilled.  Thanks  to  Eck,  this,  which 
has  hitherto  been  but  a  trifle,  will  in  the  end  become  a 
serious  matter,  and  strike  a  fatal  blow  against  the  ty- 
ranny of  Rome  and  her  pontiff." 

The  truce  had  been  broken  by  Rome  herself.  Nay, 
more,  in  again  giving  the  signal  of  battle,  the  contest 
had  been  transferred  to  a  quarter  which  Luther  had 
not  yet  directly  attacked.  Eck  had  called  the  atten- 
tion of  his  adversaries  to  the  primacy  of  Rome.  He 
thus  followed  the  dangerous  example  of  Tetzel.* 
Rome  invited  the  stroke  ;  and  if,  in  the  result,  she  left 
on  the  arena  proofs  of  her  defeat,  it  is  certain  that  she 
herself  had  provoked  the  formidable  blow. 

The  Pontiff's  supremacy  once  overturned,  all  the 
superstructure  of  Rome  must  needs  crumble  into  dust. 
Hence  the  papacy  was  in  danger,  and  yet  neither  Mil- 
titz nor  Cajetan,  took  any  step  to  prevent  this  new 
contest.  Could  they  imagine  the  Reformation  sub- 
dued— or  were  they  smitten  with  the  blindness  which 
deludes  the  powerful  to  their  ruin  1 

Luther,  who  had  set  a  rare  example  of  moderation 
in  keeping  silence  so  long,  boldly  accepted  the  chal- 
lenge of  his  new  antagonist.  He  put  forth  fresh  theses 
in  reply  to  those  of  Eck.  The  concluding  one  was 
thus  expressed — "  It  is  by  contemptible  decretals  of 
Roman  pontiffs,  composed  hardly  four  centuries  ago, 
that  it  is  attempted  to  prove  the  primacy  of  the  Roman 
Church ; — but  arrayed  against  this  claim  are  eleven 
centuries  of  credible  history,  the  express  declarations 
of  Scripture,  and  the  conclusions  of  the  council  of  Nice, 
the  most  venerable  of  all  the  councils."! 

"  God  knows,"  wrote  Luther,  at  the  same  time,  to 
the  elector,  "  that  it  was  my  fixed  purpose  to  keep 
silence,  and  that  I  was  rejoiced  to  see  the  struggle 
brought  to  a  close.  I  was  so  scrupulous  in  my  adhe- 
rence to  the  treaty  concluded  with  the  pope's  commis- 
sary, that  I  did  not  answer  Sylvester  Prierias,  not- 
withstanding the  taunts  of  my  adversaries,  and  the 
advice  of  my  friends.  But,  now  Dr.  Eck  attacks  me  ; 
and  not  me  only,  but  the  whole  University  of  Wittem- 
berg.  I  cannot  allow  truth  to  be  thus  loaded  with 
opprobrium. "$ 

Luther  wrote  at  the  same  time  to  Carlstadt :  "  Wor- 
thy Andrew,  I  am  not  willing  that  you  should  enter  on 
this  dispute,  since  the  attack  is  in  reality  directed 
against  me.  I  gladly  lay  aside  my  serious  studies  to 
turn  my  strength  against  these  parasites  of  thepontiff."H 
Then  turning  to  his  adversary,  and  disdainfully  calling 
from  Wittemberg  to  Ingolstadt,  he  exclaims,  "  Now 
then,  dear  Eck,  take  courage — gird  on  thy  sword. U" 
If  I  could  not  please  thee  when  thou  earnest  as  a  go- 
between,  perhaps  I  may  better  satisfy  thee  as  an  antago- 
nist. Not  that  I,  of  course,  can  expect  to  overcome 
thee — but  that,  after  all  thy  triumphs  in  Hungary, 
Lombardy,  Bavaria,  (if  we  are  to  believe  thy  own  re- 
port,) I  shall  be  giving  thee  the  opportunity  of  earning 
the  name  of  conqueror  of  Saxony  and  Misnia  ! — so  that 
thou  shalt  ever  after  be  hailed  with  the  glorious  epithet 
of  August."** 

All  Luther's  friends  did  not  share  in  his  courage — 

*  Sed  Denns  ia  medio  horum  ;  ipse  novit  quid  ex  ea  trage- 
dia  deducere  voluerit.  (L  Epp.  i,  230,  222.) 

t  See  Vol.  I.  331. 

I  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  p.  245.  ^  L.  Epp.  i.  237. 

||  Gaudens  et  videns  posthabeo  istorum  mea  seria  ludo.  (L. 
Epp.  i.  p.  261.) 

IT  Esto  vir  fortis  et  acoingeregladio  tuo  super  femur  tuum, 
potentissime !  (Ibid.) 

*»  Ac  si  voles  semper  Augustus  saluteris  in  seternum.  (Ibid.) 


ALARM  OF  LUTHER'S  FRIENDS— TRUTH  SECURE  OF  VICTORY. 


121 


for  no  one  had  hitherto  been  able  to  resist  the  sophisms 
of  Eck.  But  their  great  cause  of  alarm  was  the  subject 
malterof  the  dispute  .  .  .  the  pope's  primacy !  How  can 
the  poor  monk  of  Wittemberg  dare  to  stand  up  against 
the  giant  who,  for  ages,  has  crushed  all  his  enemies  : 
The  courtiers  of  the  elector  were  alarmed.  Spalatin, 
the  prince's  confidant,  and  the  intimate  friend  of  Lu- 
ther, was  filled  with  apprehensions.  Frederic  himself 
was  not  at  ease.  Even  the  sword  of  the  Knights  of 
the  Holy  Sepulchre,  with  which  he  had  been  invested 
at  Jerusalem,  would  not  avail  him  in  this  struggle 
Luther  alone  was  unmoved.  "  The  Lord,"  thought 
he,  "  will  deliver  him  into  my  hand."  His  own  faith 
furnished  him  with  encouragement  for  his  friends, 
beseech  you,  my  dear  Spalatin,"  said  he,  "do  not  give 
way  to  fear.  You  well  know  that  if  Christ  had  not 
been  on  our  side,  what  I  have  already  done  must  have 
been  my  ruin.  Even  lately  did  not  news  come  from 
Rome,  to  the  Duke  of  Pomerania's  chancellor,  that  I 
had  destroyed  all  respect  for  Rome,  and  that  no  way 
appeared  of  quieting  the  general  feeling  ;  so  that  it  was 
intended  to  deal  with  me,  not  judicially,  but  by  Roman 
stratagem  ;  such  were  the  words  used — I  suppose 
meaning  poison,  ambush,  or  assassination  !" 

"  I  restrain  myself,  and  out  of  regard  to  the  Elector 
and  the  University,  I  keep  back  many  things  which  I 
would  employ  against  Babylon,  if  I  were  elsewhere. 
O,  my  dear  Spalatin,  it  is  not  possible  to  speak  truth, 
concerning  Scripture  and  the  Church,  without  rousing 
the  beast.  Don't  expect  to  see  me  at  peace,  unless  I 
renounce  the  study  of  divine  things.  If  this  matter 
be  of  God,  it  will  not  end  till  all  my  friends  have  for- 
saken me,  as  all  the  disciples  of  Christ  forsook  him. 
Truth  will  stand  unaided,  and  will  prevail  by  his  right 
hand,  not  mine,  or  yours,  or  by  any  other  man's.*  If 
I  perish,  the  world  will  not  perish  with  me.  But, 
wretch  that  I  am,  I  fear  I  am  not  worthy  to  die  in  such 
a  cause."  "  Rome,"  wrote  he,  again,  about  this  time, 
"  Rome  eagerly  longs  for  my  destruction,  and  I  grow 
weary  of  defying  her.  I  am  credibly  informed  that  a 
paper  effigy  of  Martin  Luther  has  been  publicly  burnt 
in  the  Campus  Floralis,  at  Rome,  after  being  loaded 
with  execrations.  I  await  their  onset."!  "The  whole 
world,"  he  continued,  "  is  in  motion  and  shaking. 
What  will  be  the  consequence,  God  alone  knows.  For 
ray  part  I  foresee  wars  and  calamities.  God  have 
mercy  on  us.".£ 

Luther  wrote  letter  after  letter  to  Duke  George,  to 
ask  permission  of  that  prince, §  in  whose  states  Leipsic 
was  situated,  to  repair  thither,  and  take  part  in  the 
discussion  :  still  he  received  no  answer.  The  grand- 
son of  the  Bohemian  king,  Podiebrad,  alarmed  by  Lu- 
ther's proposition  touching  the  Pope's  authority,  and 
fearing,  lest  Saxony  should  become  the  theatre  of 
struggles  similar  to  those  which  had  long  ravaged  Bo- 
hemia, resolved  not  to  consent  to  Luther's  request. 
The  latter  hereupon  decided  to  publish  some  explana- 
tions of  his  thirteenth  thesis.  But  this  tract,  so  far 
from  persuading  Duke  George,  strengthened  him  in 
his  resolution ;  and  he  decidedly  refused  the  Reformer 
his  permission  to  take  part  in  the  discussion,  allowing 
him  only  to  be  present  as  a  spectator.il  Luther  was 
greatly  mortified  ;  nevertheless,  it  was  his  desire  sim- 
ply to  follow  God's  leadings,  and  he  resolved  to  repair 

»  Et  sola  sit  veritas,  qua:  salvet  se  dextera  sua,  non  mea,  non 
tua,  non  ullius  hominis  .  .  .  (L.  Epp.  i.  261.) 
t  Expecto  furorem  illorum.     (Ibid.  280  of  the  30th  May, 

{  Tolas  orbis  nutat  ct  movetur,  tarn  corporequam  anims. 
(L.  Epp.  i.  261.) 

^  Ternis  literis,  a  duce  Georgio  non  potui  certum  obtinere 
responsum.  (Ibid.  232.) 

II  Ita  ut  non  disputator  sed  spectator  futurus  Lipsiam  ingre- 
derer.  (L.  Opp.  in  prof.) 


thither,  to  witness  what  took  place,  and  wait  any  open- 
ing that  might  offer. 

At  the  same  time,  the  prince  promoted  by  all  his  in- 
fluence the  discussion  between  Eck  and  Carlsradt. 
George  was  devotedly  attached  to  the  established  doc- 
trine— but  he  was  upright,  sincere,  a  friend  to  free  en- 
quiry, and  far  from  deeming  all  exercise  of  individual 
judgment  in  such  things  justly  open  to  the  charge  of 
heresy,  merely  because  it  might  give  offence  to  Rome. 
Add  to  this,  the  Elector  united  his  influence  with  his 
cousin,  and  George,  emboldened  by  the  language  of 
Frederic,  ordered  that  the  dispute  should  take  place.* 

Bishop  Adolphus,  of  Mcrseburg,  in  whose  diocese 
Leipsic  was  situate,  saw  more  clearly  than  Miltitz  and 
Cajetan,  the  danger  of  subjecting  questions  of  such  high 
importance  to  the  uncertain  issue  of  a  single  combat. 
Rome  could  not  well  expose  to  such  hazard  the  acqui- 
sition of  several  centuries.  All  the  divines  of  Leipsic 
sharing  in  the  alarm,  entreated  their  bishop  to  interfere 
and  prevent  the  discussion.  Adolphus,  therefore,  earn- 
estly dissuaded  Duke  George,  but  the  latter  answered 
with  much  good  sense  :f  "I  am  surprised  to  find  a 
bishop  holding  in  abhorrence  the  ancient  and  laudable 
custom  of  our  fathers,  to  inquire  into  doubtful  ques- 
tions in  matters  of  faith.  If  your  theologians  object 
to  defend  their  doctrines,  the  money  given  them  would 
be  better  bestowed  in  maintaining  old  women  and  chil- 
dren, who  at  least  might  sew  and  sing." 

This  letter  produced  little  effect  on  the  bishop  and 
his  divines.  Error  has  a  hidden  conscience  which 
makes  its  supporters  fear  discussion,  even  while  they 
talk  most  largely  of  free  inquiry.  Advancing  without 
circumspection,  it  draws' back  with  cowardice.  Truth 
provokes  not,  but  holds  firm.  Error  provokes  inquiry 
and  then  retires.  The  prosperity  of  the  university  of 
Wittemberg  was  an  object  of  jealousy  at  Leipsic. 
The  monks  and  the  priests  from  their  pulpits  besought 
the  people  to  avoid  the  new  heretics.  They  reviled 
Luther,  depicting  him  and  his  friends  in  the  darkest 
colours,  to  rouse  the  fanaticism  of  the  lowest  classes 
against  the  doctors  of  the  Reformation. t  Tetzel  him- 
self, who  was  still  living,  exclaimed  from  his  retreat, 
"  It  is  the  devil  himself  who  is  urging  on  this  con- 
test."^ 

Still  not  all  the  Leipsic  professors  were  of  this  opin- 
ion. Some  belonged  to  the  class  of  indifferent  specta- 
tors, ever  ready  to  find  amusement  in  the  faults  of  both 
sides.  Of  this  number  was  Peter  Mosellanus.  He 
cared  little  for  John  Eck,  or  Carlstadt,  or  Martin  Lu- 
ther, but  he  promised  himself  much  amusement  from 
their  contest.  "John  Eck,  the  most  illustrious  of 
gladiators  of  the  pen  and  rhodomontad/sts,"  said  he, 
writing  to  his  friend,  Erasmus,  "John  Eck,  who,  like 
the  Socrates  of  Aristophanes,  looks  down  upon  the 
gods  themselves,  is  about  to  come  to  blows  with 
Andrew  Carlstadt.  The  battle  will  end  in  smoke. 
There  will  be  matter  form/rthfor  ten  Democrituses."|| 

On  the  other  hand,  the  timid  Erasmus  was  alarmed 
at  the  idea  of  a  dispute :  and  his  prudence  tried  to 
prevent  the  discussion.  "  If  you  would  trust  Eras- 
mus," wrote  he  to  Melancthon,  "you  would  apply 
yourself  rather  to  the  cultivation  of  literature,  than  to 
disputes  with  its  enemies.H"  In  that  way  I  think  we 
should  get  on  becter.  Above  all,  let  us  remember  in 
the  contest,  that  we  must  not  conquer  by  force  of 
words  only,  but  also  by  modesty  and  gentleness." 
*  Princip/s  nostri  vcrbo  firmatus.  (L.  Epp.  i.  255.) 
f  Schneider,  Lips.  Chr.  iv.  168. 

f  Theologi  interim  ne  proscindunt . .  .  populum  Lipsiae  in 
clamaut.     L.  Epp.  i.  255. 
§  Das  wait  der  Teufel !     (Ibid.) 

iSecondorf,  201. 
Malim  te  plus  opera  sumere  in  asserendis  bonis  litteris, 
quam  in  sectandis  harum  hostibus.    (Corpus  Reform,  ed.  Bret- 
Schneider,  i.  73,  April  22, 1519.) 


122 


ARRIVAL  OF  ECK— AN  ILL  OMEN— ECK  AND  LUTHER. 


Neither  the  fears  of  the  priests,  nor  the  prudence  of 
pacificators,  could  now  prevent  the  contest.  Each 
party  prepared  himself. 

Eck  was  the  first  to  arrive  at  the  place  of  rendezvous. 
On  the  21st  of  June  he  entered  Leipsic,  accompanied 
by  Poliander,  a  young  man  whom  he  brought  from  In- 
golstadt  to  take  notes  of  the  discussion.  He  was 
received  with  great  honours.  Attired  in  priestly  gar- 
ments, at  the  head  of  a  numerous  procession,  he  passed 
through  the  streets  of  the  city  on  Corpus  Christi  day. 
All  crowded  to  see  him.  "  The  whole  population 
was  in  my  favour,"  said  he,  in  speaking  of  it ;  "  never- 
theless," ho  continues,  "  a  rumour  was  spread  abroad 
in  the  city  that  I  should  be  defeated  in  the  encounter." 

The  day  after  the  festival,  Friday,  the  24th  of  June, 
and  St.  John's  day,  the  party  from  Wittemberg  arrived 
in  Leipsic.  Carlstadt,  who  was  to  conduct  the  contro- 
versy against  Eck,  was  alone  in  his  travelling  car,  in 
advance  of  the  rest.  Duke  Barnim,  of  Pomerania, 
who  was  at  that  time  studying  at  Wittemberg,  and  had 
been  chosen  Rector  of  the  University,  followed  in  an 
open  carriage.  Seated  beside  him  were  the  two  cele- 
brated divines — the  fathers  of  the  Reformation — Me- 
lancthon  and  Luther.  Melancthon  had  refused  to  be 
separated  from  his  friend.  "  Martin,  that  soldier  of 
Jesus  Christ,"  were  his  words  to  Spalatin,  "  has  stirred 
up  all  this  filthy  bog.*  My  soul  is  moved  with  indig- 
nation when  I  think  of  the  shameful  conduct  of  the 
Pope's  doctors.  Stand  firm  and  constant  with  us." 
Luther  himself  had  requested  his  Achates,  as  he  has 
been  termed,  to  bear  him  company. 

John  Lange,  vicar  of  the  Augustines,  several  doc- 
tors of  law,  a  few  masters  of  arts,  two  licentiates  in 
theology,  and  other  ecclesiastics,  among  whom  was 
noticed  Nicholas  Amsdorff,  closed  the  procession. 
A msdorff,  descended  from  a  noble  family  of  Saxony,  far 
from  being  fascinated  by  the  brilliant  career  to  which  his 
birth  seemed  to  call  him,  had  devoted  himself  to  theo- 
logy. The  theses  on  indulgences  had  led  him  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth.  Instantly  he  had  made  a  cou- 
rageous profession  of  faith. t  Of  energetic  mind  and 
vehement  character,  Amsdorff  was  accustomed  to  urge 
on  Luther,  already  by  nature  prompt,  to  actions  of 
questionable  prudence.  Born  to  elevated  station,  he 
was  not  awed  by  rank,  and,  in  addressing  the  great,  he 
spoke  at  times  with  a  freedom  bordering  upon  rude- 
ness. "  The  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,"  said  he,  in 
presence  of  a  noble  assembly,  "  belongs  to  the  poor 
and  afflicted,  and  not  to  princes,  lords,  and  courtiers, 
such  as  you  who  live  in  a  round  of  pleasures  and  en- 
joyments."}; 

But  this  was  not  all  the  array  of  Wittemberg.  A 
large  body  of  students  accompanied  their  teachers. 
Eck  affirms,  that  there  were  as  many  as  two  hundred. 
Armed  with  pikes  and  halberds,  they  attended  the 
doctors  in  their  loute,  resolved  to  defend  them,  and 
proud  of  their  cause. 

In  this  order  the  procession  of  the  Reformers  arrived 
at  Leipsic.  Just  as  it  had  passed  the  Grimma  gate, 
and  had  reached  the  cemetery  of  St.  Paul,  a  wheel  of 
Carlstadt's  travelling  car  broke  down.  The  archdea- 
con, whose  vanity  was  pleasing  itself  with  so  solemn 
an  entry,  was  precipitated  into  the  mvjd.  He  was  not 
hurt,  but  was  compelled  to  proceed  on  foot  to  the  place 
of  his  abode.  Luther's  chariot,  which  was  following 
that  of  Carlstadt,  got  before  him,  and  bore  the  Refor 
mer  safe  and  sound  to  his  destination.  The  people 
of  Leipsic,  who  had  assembled  to  witness  ibe  entry  of 

*  Martinus,  Domini  miles,  hanc  camarinam  movit  (Corp 
Ref.i.82.) 

f  Nee  cum  came  et  sanguine  diu  contulit,  sed  statim  palam 
ad  alios  fidei  confessionem  constanter  edidit.  (M.  Adami  Vit 
Amsdorff.) 

\  Weismann,  Hist.  Eccl.  i.  1444, 


tie  champions  of  Wittemberg,  interpreted  this  accident 
s  an  ill  omen  for  Carlstadt ;  and  it  was  soon  a  pre- 
alent  impression  that  he  would  break  down  in  the  con- 
lict,  but  that  Luther  would  remain  master  of  the  field.* 

Adolphus,  of  Merseburg,  was  not  idle.  As  soon  a» 
ie  learned  the  approach  of  Luther  and  Carlstadt,  and 
iven  before  they  had  alighted,  be  caused  to  be  affixed 
>n  the  doors  of  the  churches,  a  notice  prohibiting  the 
jpening  of  the  discussion  under  pain  of  excommunica- 
ion.  Duke  George,  astounded  at  this  audacity,  direct- 
id  the  city  council  to  tear  down  the  bishop's  placard, 
uid  committed  to  prison  the  daring  meddler  who  had 
ventured  to  be  agent  of  his  orders.!  George  had  him- 
elf  arrived  at  Leipsic.  He  waa  accompanied  by  all 
lis  court ;  among  the  rest,  by  Jerome  Emser,  with 
whom  Luther  had  spent  a  memorable  evening  at  Dres- 
den. J  George  made  the  customary  presents  to  the 
wo  disputants.  "  The  Duke,"  said  Eck,  boastfully, 
'  presented  me  with  a  fine  stag,  and  to  Carlstadt  he 
rave  only  a  roebuck. "6 

The  moment  Eck  heard  that  Luther  had  arrived,  he 
•epaired  to  the  doctor's  lodgings — "  What  is  this  1" 
said  he,  "  I  am  told  you  object  to  dispute  with  me." 
— LUTHER.  "  How  can  I  dispute,  since  the  Duke 
brbids  me  to  do  so." — ECK.  "  If  I  am  not  allowed 
,o  dispute  with  you,  I  shall  take  very  little  interest  in 
discussing  with  Carlstadt.  It  is  on  your  accomit  I  am 
iere."|l  Then,  after  a  moment's  silence,  he  continued, 
'  If  I  obtain  the  Duke's  permission,  will  you  take  the 
field  1" — LUTHER  (overjoyed.)  "  Only  obtain  permis- 
sion, and  we  will  meet." 

Eck  instantly  waited  on  the  Duke  ;  he  laboured 
o  dissipate  his  fears  ;  he  assured  him  that  he  was 
certain  of  victory,  and  that  the  Pope's  authority,  far  from 
uffering  by  the  dispute,  would  come  out  of  it  the  more 
glorious.  "  It  was  fit,"  he  said,  "  that  the  argument 
should  bear  against  the  principal  party. — If  Luther  be 
unhumbled,  every  thing  is  still  to  be  done  ;  if  he  is 
overcome,  all  is  at  an  end."  George  granted  the  de- 
sired permission. 

The  Duke  had  had  a  large  apartment  prepared  in 
lis  palace,  named  Pleissenburg.  Two  elevated  pulpits 
lad  been  erected  opposite  each  other — tables  had  been 
placed  for  the  notaries  engaged  to  take  notes  of  the 
discussion,  and  benches  were  ranged  around  for  the 
audience.  The  pulpits  and  benches  were  hung  with 
rich  tapestry.  In  front  of  that  intended  for  the  doctor 
of  Wittemberg,  was  suspended  the  portrait  of  St.  Mar- 
,in — on  that  of  Eck,  was  the  figure  of  St.  George. — 

We  shall  see,"  said  the  haughty  Eck,  as  he  contem- 
plated this  emblem — "  if  I  do  not  trample  my  antago- 
lists  under  my  feet."  Every  thing  announced  the  high 
'mportance  attached  to  the  dispute. 

On  the  25th  of  June,  a  meeting  was  htld  in  the 
Dastle  to  settle  the  order  that  should  be  followed. 
Eck,  who  placed  even  more  dependence  on  his  decla- 
mation and  action,  than  on  his  arguments,  exclaimed, 

We  will  dispute  freely  and  extempore,  and  the  nota- 
ries need  not  take  down  our  words." 

CARLSTADT.  "  It  was  understood  that  the  discus- 
sion should  be  written,  printed,  and  submitted  to  the 
judgment  of  the  public." 

ECK.  "  Writing  down  all  that  is  said  wearies  the 
minds  of  the  disputants,  and  protracts  the  contest. 
There  is  an  end  at  once  of  the  spirit  necessary  to  give 
animation  to  the  discussion.  Do  not  delay  the  flow 
of  eloquence."* 

*  Seb.  Froschel  vom  Priesterthum.    Wittemb.  158f>,  in  prset 
t  L  .  Opp.  L.  xvii.  245.  \  See  Vol.  I.  p.  247. 

^  Seckend.  p.  190. 

11  Si  tecum  non  licet  disputare  neque  cum  Carlstatio  volo } 
propter  te  enim  hunc  veni.     (L.  Opp.  in  praef.) 
IT  Melancth.  Opp.  i.  139.    (Koethe  ed.) 


JUDGES  PROPOSED— THE  PROCESSION— LUTHER. 


123 


The,  friends  of  Eck  supported  his  proposal — bu 
Carlstadt  persisted  in  his  objections,  and  the  champio 
of  Rome  was  obliged  to  give  way. 

ECK.  *'  Well,  be  it  so  ;  let  it  be  in  writing  ;  but  a 
taast  the  discussion,  taken  down  by  notaries,  must  no 
be  made  public  before  it  has  been  submitted  to  the  in 
spection  of  chosen  judges." 

LUTHER.     "  Then,  does  the  truth  that  Doctor  Eck 
and  his  followers  hold,  dread  the  light  1" 
ECK.     "  There  must  be  judges." 
LUTHER.     "  What  judges  ?" 
ECK.     "  When  the  discussion  is  closed,  we   wil 
settle  who  they  shall  be." 

The  object  of  the  Romanists  was  apparent.  If  th< 
Wittemberg  divines  accepted  judges,  they  were  lost 
for  their  adversaries  were  previously  secure  of  tne  fa 
vour  of  those  who  would  be  applied  to.  If  they  refus^ 
ed  to  abide  their  decision,  their  enemies  would  covei 
them  with  shame,  by  circulating  the  report  that  they 
feared  to  submit  themselves  to  impartial  award. 

The  Reformers  demanded  for  judges— not  this  and 
that  individual,  whose  opinion  had  been  previously  form- 
ed, but  the  general  body  of  Christians.  It  was  to  this 
universal  suffrage  they  appealed.  Besides,  sentence 
of  condemnation  given  against  them  would,  in  their 
judgment,  matter  little,  if,  in  defending  their  cause 
before  the  Christian  world,  they  should  lead  souls  to 
the  discovery  of  the  light,  "  Luther,"  says  a  Roman 
historian,  "  required  the  whole  body  of  believers  for 
his  judges — in  other  words,  a  tribunal  so  extensive,  that 
no  urn  would  be  found  to  receive  the  suffrages."* 

The  parties  separated. — "  Observe  their  artifices,' 
remarked  Luther,  and  his  friends,  to  each  other. — 
«'  They  no  doubt  mean  to  require  that  the  Pope  or  the 
Universities  should  be  the  judges  of  the  result." 

In  fact,  on  the  following  morning,  the  Romish  party 
sent  one  of  their  number  to  Luther,  with  instructions  to 
propose  to  him  ....  the  Pope. ...  as  judge — the  Pope  ! 
"  The  Pope  !"  said  Luther,  "  how  can  I  accede  to  such 
a  proposal  V 

"Beware,"  said  ail  his  friends,  "of  accepting  such 
unjust  conditions."  Eck  and  his  advisers  held  another 
council.  They  gave  up  the  Pope,  and  proposed  cer- 
tain Universities.  "  Do  riot  retract  the  liberty  you 
have  before  conceded  to  us,"  said  Luther,  "  We 
cannot  yield  this  point,''  replied  they.  "  Then,"  ex- 
claimed Luther,  "  I  will  take  no  part  in  the  discus- 
sion."! 

Again  the  parties  separated,  and  throughout  the  city 
the  affair  was  a  subject  of  conversation.  "  Luther 
will  not  accept  the  challenge,"  said  the  Romanists  .  .  . 
He  will  not  acknowledge  any  judge  !"  His  words  are 
commented  on  and  misconstrued,  and  endeavours  are 
made  to  represent  them  in  the  most  unfavourable 
colours.  "  What,  is  it  true  that  he  declines  the  dis- 
cussion1?" said  the  warmest  friends  of  the  Reformer. 
They  flock  around  him  and  give  expression  to  their 
misgivings — "  You  decline  the  discussion  I"  said  they, 
"  your  refusal  will  bring  lasting  shame  on  your  Uni 
versity,  and  on  the  cause  you  have  taken  in  hand." 

It  was  assailing himonhis  weak  side.  "  Well,  then," 
said  he,  indignantly,  u  I  accept  the  conditions  pro- 
posed ;  but  I  reserve  to  myself  the  right  to  appeal,  and 
decline  the  jurisdiction  of  Rome."J 

The  27ih  of  June  was  the  day  fixed  for  the  opening 
of  the  discussion.     Early  in  the  morning  a  meeting 
took  place  in  the  great  college  of  the  University,  and 
from   thence  the   train  walked  in  procession  to  the 
church  of  St.  Thomas,  where  a  solemn  mass  was  per- 
formed by  order,  and  at  the  expense,  of  the  Duke. 
'  Aiebat,  ad  universos.mortaHs  pertinere  judicium,  hoc  est 
ad  tribunal  cujus  colligendis  c  jt/culis  nulla  urna  satis  capax. 
(Pallavic:ni,  torn  i.  55.) 
f  L.  Opl- .  (L.)  xvii.  245.  J  Ibid.  246. 


After  the  service  the  parties  present  repaired  in  pro- 
cession to  the  ducal  castle.  In  front,  walked  Duke 
George  and  the  Duke  of  Pomerania ;  then  came 
counts,  barons,  knights,  and  other  persons  of  rank,  and, 
lastly,  the  doctors,  of  both  sides.  A  guard,  consisting 
of  seventy-three  citizens,  armed  with  halberds,  accom- 
panied their  inarch,  with  banners  flying,  and  martial 
music,  halting  at  the  castle-gates. 

The  procession  having  reached  the  palace,  each  took 
his  seat  in  the  hall,  where  the  discussion  was  to  take 
place.  Duke  George,  the  hereditary  Prince  John, 
Prince  George  of  Anhalt,  then  twelve  years  of  age, 
and  the  Duke  of  Pomerania,  occupied  the  seats  assign- 
ed them. 

Mosellanus  ascended  the  pulpit,  to  remind  the  the- 
ologians, by  the  Duke's  order,  in  what  manner  they 
were  to  dispute.  "  If  you  fall  to  quarrelling,"  said 
the  speaker,  "  what  difference  will  remain  between  a 
theologian  in  discussion,  and  a  shameless  duellist !  In 
this  question,  what  is  victory,  but  the  recovery  of  a 
brother  from  error !  It  means  as  if  each  of  you  should 
be  more  desirous  to  be  so  conquered  than  to  con- 
quer !"* 

This  address  terminated,  sacred  music  resounded  in 
the  halls  of  the  Pleisscnburg ;  the  whole  assembly  fell 
upon  their  knees,  and  the  ancient  hymn  of  invocation 
to  the  Holy  Spirit,  Veni,  Sancte  Spiritus,  was  chanted. 
Solemn  moments  in  the  history  of  the  Reformation  ! 
Thrice  was  the  invocation  repeated,  and  while  this 
mpressive  voice  was  heard  around,  the  defenders  of 
the  ancient  doctrine,  and  the  champions  of  this  new 
teaching,  the  churchmen  of  the  middle  ages,  and  thoso 
who  sought  to  restore  the  church  of  the  apostles,  hum- 
bly bowed  their  foreheads  to  the  earth.  The  time- 
honoured  bond  of  one  communion  still  bound  together 
all  these  different  minds  ;  the  same  prayer  still  pro- 
ceeded from  all  these  lips,  as  if  one  heart  pronounced 
it. 

These  were  the  last  moments  of  outward  and  life- 
ess  unity  :  a  new  Oneness  of  the  spirit  and  of  life  was 
commencing.  The  Holy  Spirit  was  invoked  upon  the 
church,  and  was  preparing  to  answer  in  the  revival  of 
Christianity. 

The  chanting  and  prayer  being  concluded,  all  rose 
from  their  knees.  The  discussion  was  about  to  conti- 
nence, but  it  being  twelve  o'clock,  it  was  postponed 
till  two  in  the  afternoon. 

The  Duke  assembled  at  his  table  the  principal  per- 
sons who  intended  to  be  present  at  the  discussion. 
After  the  repast,  they  returned  to  the  castle.  The 
lall  was  filled  with  spectators.  Discussions  of  this 
kind  were  the  public  meetings  of  that  age.  It  was  in 
such  meetings  that  the  men,  who  represented  the  gen- 
eration in  which  they  lived,  agitated  the  questions  which 
occupied  the  general  mind.  Soon  the  speakers  took 
their  places.  That  their  appearance  may  be  better 
conceived,  we  wW  give  their  portraits  as  traced  by  one 
of  the  most  impartial  witnesses  of  the  encounter. 

'  Martin  Luther  is  of  middle  size,  and  so  thin,  by 
reason  of  bis  continual  studies,  that  one  can  almost 
ount  his  bones.  He  is  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  his 
oice  is  clear  and  sonorous.  His  knowledge  and  uiv- 
derstanding  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  are  incomparable: 
he  whole  word  of  God  is  at  his  fingers'  ends  t  Add- 
>d  to  this,  he  has  vast  resources  of  argument  and  ideas. 
)ne  might  perhaps  desire  somewhat  more  judgment 
o  arrange  everything  in  its  right  order.  In  conversa- 
ion  he  is  agreeable  and  obliging  ;  in  no  respect  stoical 
r  proud  ;  he  accommodates  himself  to  every  one  ;  his 
nanner  of  speaking  is  pleasing,  and  full  of  joviality ; 

*  Seckend,  p.  209. 

f  Seine  Gelehrsamkeit  aber  und  Verstand  in  heiliger  Schrift 
st  unvergleichlich,  so  drass  er  fast  alles  im  Griff  hat.  (Mo- 
ellanus  in  Seckend,  206.) 


124       CARLSTADT— ECK— MERIT  OF  CONGRUITY— SCHOLASTIC  DISTINCTION. 


he  evinces  much  firmness,  and  has  ever  a  contented 
expression  of  countenance,  whatever  may  be  the  threats 
of  his  adversaries.  So  that  one  is  constrained  to  be- 
lieve that  it  is  not  without  divine  assistance  that  he 
does  such  great  things.  He  is  blamed,  however,  for 
being  more  severe  in  his  reproofs  than  is  becoming  in 
a  divine,  especially  when  advancing  novelties  in  reli- 
gion." 

"  Carlstadt  is  smaller  in  stature  :  he  has  a  dark  and 
sunburnt  complexion  ;  his  voice  is  harsh  ;  his  memory 
less  tenacious  than  that  of  Luther,  and  he  is  yet  more 
warm  in  temper.  Yet  he  possesses,  though  in  a  lower 
degree,  the  same  qualities  for  which  his  friend  is  re- 
markable." 

"  Eck  is  tall  and  broad  shouldered ;  his  voice  is 
strong  and  truly  German.  He  has  good  lungs,  so  that 
he  would  be  well  heard  in  a  theatre,  and  would  even 
make  a  capital  town-crier.  His  articulation  is  rather 
thick  than  clear.  He  has  none  of  the  grace  so  much 
commended  by  Fabius  and  Cicero.  His  mouth,  eyes, 
and  whole  countenance,  give  you  the  idea  rather  of  a 
soldier,  or  a  butcher,  than  of  a  divine.  *  His  memory  is 
wonderful,  and  if  his  understanding  were  equal  to  it,  he 
would  be  a  truly  perfect  man.  But  his  comprehension 
is  slow,  and  he  wants  that  judgment,  without  which 
all  other  gifts  are  useless.  Hence,  in  disputing,  he 
produces  a  mass  of  passages  from  the  Bible,  citations 
from  the  Fathers,  and  different  kinds  of  proof,  without 
careful  selection  or  discernment.  Add  to  this,  his  ef- 
frontery is  almost  inconceivable.  If  he  is  embarrassed 
he  breaks  off  from  the  subject  in  hand,  plunges  into 
another,  sometimes  even  takes  up  the  opinion  of  his 
antagonist  under  a  different  form  of  expression,  and, 
with  wonderful  address,  attributes  to  his  opponent  the 
very  absurdity  he  himself  was  defending." 

Such  is  the  description  given  by  Mosellanus  of  the 
men  who  then  engaged  the  attention  of  the  multitude 
who  thronged  the  great  hall  of  the  Pleissenburg. 

The  discussion  was  opened  by  Eck  and  Carlstadt. 

Eck's  eyes  rested  for  an  instant  on  some  articles 
that  lay  on  the  desk  of  his  adversary's  pulpit,  and  which 
seemed  to  offend  his  eye.  These  were  the  Bible  and 
the  Fathers.  "  I  object  to  entering  upon  the  discus- 
sion," exclaimed  he,  on  a  sudden,  "  if  you  are  permitted 
to  bring  your  books  with  you."  Strange  that  a  theolo- 
gian .should  have  recourse  to  books  in  order  to  dispute. 
Eck's  surprise  ought  to  have  been  yet  more  surprising. 
"  All  this  is  but  a  fig-leaf  by  which  this  Adam  seeks 
to  hide  his  shame,"  said  Luther.  "  Did  not  Augustine 
consult  books  when  he  contended  against  the  Mani- 
cheansT't  It  mattered  not!  the  partisans  of  Eck 
were  loud  in  their  clamours.  Mutual  imputations  were 
thrown  out.  "  The  man  has  no  memory,"  said  Eck. 
Finally,  it  was  arranged,  according  to  the  wish  of  the 
Chancellor  of  Ingolstadt,  that  each  party  should  be 
restricted  to  the  use  of  his  memory  and  of  his  tongue. 
"  "J^hus,  then,"  said  many,  "  in  this  disputation,  the 
point  at  issue  will  not  be  the  inquiry  after  truth,  but 
what  praise  is  to  be  assigned  to  the  speech  and  memory 
of  the  disputants." 

It  being  impossible  to  relate,  at  length,  the  course 
of  a  discussion  which  lasted  seventeen  days,  we  must, 
to  borrow  the  expression  of  an  historian,  imitate  pain- 
ters, who,  in  representing  a  battle,  give  prominence  to 
the  more  memorable  actions,  leaving  the  rest  in  the 
back  ground. J 

The  subject  in  dispute,  between  Eck  and  Carlsladt, 
was  an  important  one.  "  Man's  will,  previous  to  his 

»  Das  Maul,  Augen  und  ganze  Gesicht,  presentirt  ehe  einen 
Fleischer  oder  Soldaten,  als  einen  Theologum.  (Mosellanus 
in  Seckend.  206.) 

f  Prajtexit  tamen  et  hie  Adam  ille  folium  fici  pulcberrimum. 
(L.  Epp.  i.  294.) 

vicini,  i.  66. 


conversion,"  said  Carlstadt,  "  can  do  no  good  work. 
Every  good  work  proceeds  entirely  and  exclusively 
from  God,  who  gives  to  man  first  the  will,  and  after- 
ward the  power,  to  perform  it."  This  truth  had  been 
proclaimed  by  Holy  Scripture,  in  the  words — It  is  God 
that  worketh  in  you,  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good 
pleasure,*  and  by  Saint  Augustine,  who,  in  disputing 
with  the  Pelagians,  had  expressed  it  almost  in  the  same 
words.  Every  action  which  is  wanting  in  love  to  God, 
and  obedience  to  Him,  ia  in  His  sight  destitute  of  that 
which  can  alone  render  it  good  ;  even  though  in  other 
respects  flowing  from  the  noblest  of  human  motives. 
But  there  is  in  man  a  natural  opposition  to  the  will  of 
God.  He  has  not  m  himself  the  strength  to  overcome 
this.  He  has  neither  the  power  nor  the  will  to  do  so. 
This  then  must  be  the  work  of  divine  power. 

This  is  the  doctrine  so  cried  down  by  the  world,  and 
which  is  yet  so  simple  ;  the  doctrine  of  Free-will. 
But  the  scholastic  divines  had  expounded  it  so  as 
scarcely  to  be  recognised.  Doubtless,  said  they,  the 
will  of  man  in  a  state  of  nature  can  do  nothing  truly 
acceptable  to  God  ;  but  it  can  do  much  to  render  him 
more  capable  of  receiving  the  grace  of  God,  and  more 
meet  to  obtain  it.  They  called  these  preparations  a 
merit  of  congruity  ;t  '*  because  it  was  congruous," 
says  Thomas  Aquinas,  "  that  God  should  treat  with 
special  favour  the  men  who  makes  a  right  use  of  his 
own  will."  And  as  to  the  conversion  which  must  be 
wrought  in  man,  doubtless  it  was  the  grace  of  God, 
which,  as  the  scholastic  divines  taught,  must  effect  it ; 
but  without  excluding  natural  powers.  These  powers, 
said  they,  have  not  been  destroyed  by  sin  : — sin  but 
interposes  an  obstacle  to  their  development ;  but  when 
this  impediment  is  removed,  and  that,  said  they,  it  is 
the  office  of  the  Spirit  of  God  to  accomplish,  the  action 
of  these  powers  is  restored.  To  make  use  of  their 
favourite  illustration,  the  bird  that  has  been  long  con- 
fined, has,  in  this  condition,  neither  lost  its  strength  nor 
forgotten  how  to  fly  ;  but  a  friendly  hand  is  needed  to 
loose  its  fetters  before  it  can  again  rise  on  the  wing. 
Such,  said  they,  is  the  condition  of  man.  J 

This  was  the  subject  of  dispute  between  Eck  and 
Carlstadt.  Eck  had  at  first  seemed  entirely  opposed  to 
Carlstadt's  propositions  on  this  subject ;  but  finding 
it  difficult  to  maintain  the  position  he  had  chosen,  he 
said,  "  I  grant  that  our  will  has  not  power  lo  do  a  good 
act,  and  that  it  receives  power  from  God."  "  Do  you 
,hen  acknowledge,"  asked  Carlstadt,  overjoyed  at  hav- 
ing won  such  a  concession,  "  that  a  good  work  comes- 
entirely  of  God."  The  whole  good  work  comes  truly 
from  God,"  replied  the  subtle  Eck,  "  but  not  entirely" 
"  That  is  a  discovery  most  worthy  of  theological  learn- 
ng,"  cried  Melancthon.  "An  entire  apple,"  pursued 
Eck,  "  is  produced  by  the  sun,  but  not  by  one  effect, 
and  without  the  co-operation  of  the  plant. "§  Doubt- 
ess  no  one  ever  maintained  that  an  apple  was  alto- 
gether the  product  of  the  sun. 

Well,  then,  said  the  opposing  parties,  going  deeper 
nto  this  question,  at  once  so  delicate  and  so  important 
n  philosophy  and  religion,  let  us  then  inquire  how  God 
acts  on  man,  and  how  man  concurs  with  this  action. 
'  I  acknowledge,"  said  Eck,  "  that  the  first  thought 
leading  to  the  conversion  of  a  man  comes  from  God, 
and  that  man's  will  is  in  this  entirely  passive."!!  So- 
far  the  two  antagonists  were  agreed.  "  I  acknowledge," 
said  Carlstadt,  "  on  my  side,  that  after  this  first  act, 
which  proceeds  from  God,  something  is  requisite  on  the 

*  Philippians  ii.  13.  f  Meritum  conrmum. 

i  Planck,  i.  176. 

\  Quanquam  totum  opus  Dei  sit,  non  tamen  tolaliter  a  Deo 
esse  quemadmodum  totum  pomnm  efiicitur  a  sole,  sed  non  a 
sole  totaliter  et  sine  plantie  efficentia.  (Pallavicini,  t.  i.  53.) 

||  Motionem  seu  inspirationem  prevenientem  esse  a  solo- 
Deo  }  et  ibi  liberum  arbitriuin  habet  se  passive. 


GRACE  GIVES  LIBERTY— MELANCTHON— ECK  CLAIMS  VICTORY. 


125 


part  of  man,  which  St.  Paul  calls  will,  which  the  Fa 
thers  term,  consent."  Here  again  both  agreed  ;  bu 
from  this  point  they  diverged.  •'  This  consent  on  th< 
part  of  man,''  said  Eck,  "  comes  partly  from  our  natu 
ral  will,  partly  from  God's  grace  to  us."*  "  No,"  sak 
Carlstadt,  "  it  is  requisite  that  God  should  entirelv 
create  this  will  in  man."f  Hereupon  Eck  began  to 
manifest  surprise  and  anger  at  words  so  well  adaptec 
to  make  man  sensible  of  his  own  nothingness.  "  You: 
doctrine,"  said  he,  "  regards  man  as  a  stone,  a  log 
incapable  of  reciprocal  action."  "  What !"  answerec 
the  Reformers,  "  does  not  the  capacity  for  receiving 
the  strength  that  God  produces  in  him — a  capacity 
which,  according  to  us,  man  possesses — sufficiently 
distinguish  him  from  a  stone,  or  a  log  of  wood?"  "But, 
replied  their  antagonists,  "you  take  a  position  that  di- 
rectly contradicts  experience,  when  you  refuse  to  ac- 
knowledge any  natural  ability  in  man."  "  We  do  not 
deny,"  replied  the  others.  "  that  man  possesses  certain 
powers  and  ability  to  reflect,  meditate,  and  choose  ; 
only  we  count  such  powers  as  mere  instruments  which 
can  do  no  good  thing  until  the  hand  of  God  has  moved 
them  ;  they  are  like  to  a  saw  that  a  man  holds  in  his 
hands. "t 

The  great  question  of  Free-will  was  here  discussed  ; 
and  it  was  easy  to  demonstrate  that  the  doctrine  of  the 
Reformers  did  not  take  away  from  a  man  the  liberty  of 
a  moral  agent,  and  reduce  him  to  a  passive  machine. 
The  liberty  of  a  moral  agent  consists  in  the  power  of 
acting  conformably  to  his  choice.  Every  action  per- 
formed without  external  constraint,  and  in  pursuance 
of  the  determination  of  the  soul  itself,  is  a  free  action. 
The  soul  is  determined  by  motives  ;  but  we  constantly 
see  the  same  motives  acting  diversely  on  different 
minds.  Many  do  not  act  conformably  to  the  motives 
of  which  they  yet  acknowledge  all  the  force.  This 
failure  of  the  motive  proceeds  from  obstacles  opposed 
by  the  corruption  of  the  heart  and  understanding.  But 
God,  in  giving  "a  new  heart  and  a  new  spirit,"  takes 
away  these  obstacles  ;  and,  in  removing  them,  far  from 
depriving  man  of  liberty,  he  removes  that  which  hin- 
dered him  from  acting  freely,  and  from  following  the 
light  of  his  conscience ;  and  thus,  as  the  Gospel  ex- 
presses it,  makes  him  free.  (John  viii.  36.) 

A  trivial  incident  interrupted  the  discussion.  Carl- 
stadt, as  Eck  relates, §  had  prepared  certain  arguments, 
and,  like  many  preachers  of  our  own  day,  he  was  read- 
ing what  he  had  written.  Eck  saw  in  this  mere  col- 
lege tactics  ;  he  objected  to  it.  Carlstadt,  embarrassed, 
and  fearing  he  should  not  get  on  well  without  his 
paper,  persisted.  "Ah!1'  exclaimed  the  doctor  of  the 
schools,  proud  of  the  advantage  he  thought  he  had 
obtained,  "  he  has  not  quite  so  good  a  memory  as  I 
have."  The  point  was  referred  to  arbitrators,  who 
permitted  the  reading  of  passages  of  the  Fathers,  but 
carne  to  the  resolution  that,  with  that  exception,  the 
discussion  should  be  extempore. 

This  first  stage  of  the  dispute  was  often  interrupt- 
ed by  the  spectators.  Much  agitation,  and  even  audible 
expressions  of  feeling,  broke  forth.  Any  proposition 
that  did  not  find  favour  with  the  majority  excited  in- 
stant clamours,  and  then  it  was  necessary  to  enjoin 
silence.  The  disputants  themselves  were  sometimes 
carried  away  by  the  eagerness  of  the  dispute. 

Close  to  Luther  stood  Melancthon,  who  was  almost 
in  an  equal  degree  an  object  of  curiosity.  He  was  of 
small  stature,  and  would  have  passed  as  not  above 
eighteen  years  of  age.  Luther,  who  was  a  head  taller, 

*  Partim  a  Deo,  partim  a  libero  arbitrio. 
t  Consentit  homo,  sed  consensus  est  donum  Dei. — Consen- 
tire  non  est  agere. 

t  Ut  serra  in  manu  hominis  trahentis, 
^  Seckendorf,  p.  192. 


seemed  connected  with  him  in  the  closest  friendship  : 
they  came  in  and  went  out  together.  "  To  look  at 
Melancthon,"  said  a  Swiss  divine,*  who  studied  at 
Wittemberg,  "  one  would  say  he  was  but  a  youth  ;  but 
in  understanding,  learning,  and  talent,  he  is  a  giant  ; 
and  one  wonders  how  such  heights  of  wisdom  and 
genius  can  be  contained  within  so  slight  a  frame." 
Between  the  sittings,  Melancthon  conversed  with  Carl- 
stadt  and  Luther.  He  aided  them  in  their  preparation 
for  the  discussion,  and  suggested  the  arguments  that 
his  vast  learning  enabled  him  to  contribute  ;  but  while 
the  discussion  was  going  on,  he  remained  quietly  seated 
among  the  spectators,  listening  with  attention  to  the 
words  of  the  speakers.!  At  times,  however,  he  came 
to  the  assistance  of  Carlstadt.  Whenever  the  latter 
was  near  giving  way  under  the  declamation  of  the 
Chancellor  of  Ingolstadt,  the  young  professor  would 
whisper  a  word,  or  hand  him  a  slip  of  paper  whereon 
he  had  noted  down  a  reply.  Eck  having,  on  one  oc- 
casion, perceived  this,  and  indignant  that  the  gramma- 
rian, as  he  termed  him,  should  dare  to  meddle  in  the 
discussion,  turned  round  and  said,  insolently  ;  "  Be 
silent,  Philip,  mind  your  studies,  and  do  not  stand  in 
my  way."t  Eck  may  perhaps  have  even  then  foreseen 
how  formidable  an  opponent  he  would  one  day  find  in 
this  youth.  Luther  was  roused  by  this  rude  insult 
directed  against  his  friend.  "  The  judgment  of  Philip," 
said  he,  "  has  greater  weight  with  me  than  a  thousand 
Dr.  Ecks." 

The  calm  Melancthon  easily  detected  the  weak 
points  of  the  discussion.  "  One  cannot  help  feeling 
astonished,"  said  he,  with  that  prudence  and  gracious 
spirit  which  we  recognise  in  all  his  words,  "  when  we 
think  on  the  violence  with  which  these  subjects  were 
treated.  How  could  any  expect  to  derive  instruction 
rom  it  1  The  Spirit  of  God  loves  retirement  and  si- 
ence  ;  it  is  there  he  penetrates  into  our  hearts.  The 
bride  of  Christ  does  not  take  her  stand  in  the  streets 
and  cross-ways,  but  she  leads  her  spouse  into  the  house 
of  her  mother. "$ 

Each  party  claimed  the  victory.  Eck  resorted  to 
every  artifice  to  appear  victorious.  As  the  lines  of 
divergence  ran  closely  together,  it  often  happened  that 
le  exclaimed  that  he  had  reduced  his  adversary  to  his 
opinion  ;  or  else,  like  another  Proteus,  said  Luther,  he 
turned  suddenly  round,  put  forth  Carlstadt's  opinion 
differently  expressed,  and  triumphantly  demanded  if  he 
could  refuse  to  acknowledge  it.  And  the  uninitiated, 
who  had  not  watched  the  manoeuvre  of  the  sophist, 
jegan  to  applaud  and  exult  with  him.  Nevertheless, 
Eck,  without  perceiving  it,  in  reality  gave  up,  in  the 
course  of  the  discussion,  much  more  than  he  had  in- 
ended.  His  partisans  laughed  immoderately  at  his 
successive  devices  ;  "  but,"  said  Luther,  "  I  arn  much 
nclined  to  think  that  their  laughter  was  affected,  and 
;hat  they  were  actually  on  thorns,  when  they  saw  their 
chief,  who  had  commenced  the  battle  with  bravadoes, 
abandon  his  standard,  leave  his  own  ranks,  and  act  the 
(art  of  a  shameless  deserter."|| 

Three  or  four  days  after  the  opening  of  the  confer- 
mce,  it  had  been  interrupted  on  acconnt  of  the  festival 
if  the  apostles,  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul. 

The  Duke  of  Pomerania  had  requested  Luther  to 
ireach  on  the  occasion  in  his  chapel.  Luther  gladly 
onsented.  But  the  chapel  was  early  thronged,  and 
he  crowds  of  hearers  increasing,  the  assembly  ad- 

*  John  Kessler,  afterwards  Reformer  at  St.  Gall, 
f  Lipsiose  pugnre  ociosus  spectator  in  reliquo  vulgo  sedi, 
Corpus  Reformatorum,  i.  111.) 

}  Tace  tu,  Philippe,  ac  tua  studia  cura,  ne  me  perturba, 
Ibid.  i.  149.) 

Melancth.  Opp.  p.  134. 

Relictis  signis,  desertorem  exercitus  et  transfugam  fac- 
urn.  (L.  Epp.  L  265.) 


126 


QUARREL  OF  STUDENTS  AND  DOCTORS— ECK  AND  LUTHEK. 


journed  to  the  great  hall  of  the  castle,  where  the  con- 
ference had  been  carried  on.  Luther  took  his  text  from 
the  gospel  of  the  day,  and  preached  on  the  grace  of 
God,  and  the  authority  of  St.  Peter.  What  he  was 
accustomed  to  maintain  before  a  learned  auditory,  he 
then  declared  to  the  people : — Christianity  brings  the 
light  of  truth  to  the  humblest  as  well  as  the  most  in 
telligent  minds.  It  is  this  which  distinguishes  it  from 
all  other  religions,  and  all  systems  of  philosophy.  The 
Leipsic  divines,  who  had  heard  Luther's  sermon,  hast- 
ened to  report  to  Eck  the  offensive  expressions  with 
which  they  had  been  scandalized.  "  You  must  answer 
him, "cried  they;  *'  these  specious  errors  must  be  pub- 
licly refuted."  Eck  desired  nothing  better.  AH  the 
churches  were  at  his  service  ;  and,  on  four  successive 
occasions,  he  ascended  the  pulpit,  and  inveighed  against 
Luther  and  his  sermon.  Luther's  friends  were  indig- 
nant. They  demanded  that  the  theologian  of  Wit- 
temberg  should,  in  his  turn,  be  heard.  But  their  de- 
mand was  disregarded.  The  pulpits  were  open  to  the 
enemies  of  the  Gospel,  and  shut  to  those  who  pro- 
claimed it.  "I  was  silent,"  said  Luther,  "and  was 
obliged  to  suffer  myself  to  be  attacked,  insulted,  and 
calumniated,  without  even  the  power  to  excuse  or  de- 
fend myself."* 

It  was  not  only  the  clergy  who  opposed  the  teachers 
of  the  evangelical  doctrine ;  the  burghers  of  Leipsic 
•were,  in  that,  of  one  mind  with  the  clergy.  A  blind 
fanaticism  rendered  them  the  ready  dupes  of  the  false- 
hood and  prejudice  which  were  circulated  abroad. 
The  principal  inhabitants  abstained  from  visiting  Luther 
or  Carlstadt ;  and,  if  they  accidentally  met  in  the  street, 
they  passed  them  without  salutation.  They  misrepre- 
sented them  to  the  duke.  On  the  other  hand,  they 
were  in  daily  communication,  arid  interchange  of  visits, 
with  the  Doctor  of  Ingolstadt.  To  Luther  they  offered 
the  disputant's  customary  present  of  wine.  Beyond 
this  any  who  were  favourably  disposed  toward  him, 
concealed  their  predilection  from  others  :  several,  fol- 
lowing the  example  of  Nicodemus,  came  to  him  by 
night,  or  by  stealth.  Two  individuals  alone  stood  for- 
ward, to  their  own  honour,  and  publicly  declared  them- 
selves his  friends  : — Doctor  Auerbach,  whom  we  have 
already  seen  at  Augsburg,  and  Doctor  Pistor,  the 
younger. 

The  greatest  agitation  prevailed  in  the  city.  The 
two  parties  resembled  two  hostile  camps,  and  some- 
times came  to  blows.  Frequent  quarrels  took  place 
in  the  inns  between  the  Leipsic  students  and  those  of 
Wittemberg.  It  was  currently  asserted,  even  in  the 
meetings  of  the  clergy,  that  Luther  carried  about  with 
him  a  devil  enclosed  in  a  small  box.  "  I  know  not," 
said  Eck,  spitefully,  "  whether  the  devil  is  in  the  box 
or  under  his  frock — but  sure  I  am,  he  is  in  one  or  the 
other." 

Several  doctors  of  the  opposing  parties  were  lodged, 
during  the  progress  of  the  disputation,  in  the  house  of 
the  printer,  Herbipolis.  Their  contentions  ran  so  high, 
that  their  host  was  obliged  to  place  a  police  sergeant.arm- 
ed  with  a  halberd,  at  thehead  of  the  table,  with  instruc- 
to  preserve  the  peace.  One  day  Baumgarten,  a  vender 
of  indulgences,  came  to  blows  with  a  gentleman  at- 
tached to  Luther,  and,  in  the  violence  of  his  fit  of  pas- 
sion, burst  a  blood-vessel,  and  expired.  "  I  myself," 
says  Froschel,  who  relates  the  fact,*  "was  one  of  those 
who  carried  him  to  the  grave."  In  such  results  the 
general  ferment  in  men's  minds  manifested  itself. 
Then,  as  in  our  days,  the  speeches  in  the  assemblies 
found  an  echo  in  the  dinner-room  and  public  streets. 

Duke  George,  though  strongly  biased  in  favour  of 

*  Mich  verklagen,  schelten  und  schmaehen    .  .    (L.  Opp. 
(L.)  xvii.  247.) 
t  Loscher,  iii.  278. 


Eck,  did  not  evince  so  much  zeal  in  his  cause  as  hv» 
subjects.  He  invited  all  three,  Eck,  Luther,  and  Carl- 
stadt,  to  dinner.  He  even  requested  Luther  to  visit 
him  in  private  ;  but  soon  manifested  the  prejudices 
that  had  been  artfully  inculcated.  "  Your  tract  on  tha 
Lord's  prayer,"  said  the  duke,  "has  misled  the  con- 
sciences of  many.  There  are  some  who  complain  that, 
for  four  days  together,  they  have  not  been  able  to  say 
one  pater. 

It  was  on  the  4th  of  July  that  the  contest  commenced 
between  Eck  and  Lather,  Everything  announced  that 
it  would  be  more  violent  and  decisive  than  that  which 
bad  just  terminated.  The  two  disputants  were  ad- 
vancing to  the  arena,  firmly  resolved  not  to  lay  down 
their  arms  till  victory  should  have  declared  in  favour 
of  one  or  the  other.  General  attention  was  alive,  for 
the  subject  of  dispute  was  the  pope's  primacy.  Two 
Drominent  hinderances  obstruct  the  progress  of  the  gos- 
pel, the  hierarchy,  and  rationalism,  as  applied  to  the 
doctrines  of  man's  moral  powers,  had  been  the  object 
of  attack  in  the  early  part  of  the  discussion.  The 
lierarchy  viewed,  in  what  was  at  once  its  basis  as  well 
as  climax — the  doctrine  of  the  pope's  authority  was 
iow  to  be  impugned.  On  the  one  side  appeared  Eck, 
;he  defender  of  the  established  teaching,  and,  like  some 
boastful  soldier,  strong  in  confidence  derived  from  pre- 
vious triumphs.*  On  the  other  side  came  Luther,  to- 
whom  the  contest  seemed  to  promise  nothing  but  per- 
secutions and  ignominy,  but  who  presented  himself 
with  a  clear  conscience,  a  firm  determination  to  sacri- 
fice everything  to  the  cause  of  truth,  and  a  hope  full 
of  faith  in  God's  power  to  deliver  him. 

At  seven  in  the  morning  the  two  disputants  had 
taken  their  places,  encompassed  by  an  attentive  and 
numerous  auditory. 

Luther  stood  up,  and  adopting  a  necessary  precau- 
tion, said,  with  humility  :  « 

4  In  the  name  of  the  Lord — Amen.  I  declare  that 
the  respect  I  have  for  the  sovereign  pontiff  would  have 
prevented  my  sustaining  the  part  I  am  taking  in  this 
discussion,  had  not  the  worthy  Doctor  Eck  persuaded 
me  thereto." 

ECK.  "  In  thy  name,  blessed  Jesus  !  Before  I 
enter  on  this  discussion,  I  protest  in  your  presence, 
noble  chiefs,  that  all  I  shall  say  is  subject  to  the  judg- 
ment of  the  first  of  all  episcopal  chairs,  and  to  the 
master  who  fills  it." 

After  a  moment's  silence,  Eck  continued  : 

"  There  is  in  God's  Church  a  primacy  derived  from 
Christ  himself.  The  church  militant  has  been  set  up 
n  the  likeness  of  the  church  triumphant.  But  this- 
alter  is  a  monarchy,  wherein  everything  ascends  hier- 
archically to  its  sole  head — God  himself.  Therefore 
t  is  that  Christ  has  established  a  similar  order  upon 
earth.  How  monstrous  would  the  church  be  without 
a  hcad."t 

LUTHER,  turning  to  the  assembly, 

"  When  the  doctor  declares  that  it  is  most  needful 
that  the  Church  universal  have  a  head,  he  says  well, 
f  there  beany  one  among  us  who  affirms  the  contrary, 
et  him  stand  forth.     I  hold  no  such  thing." 

ECK.  "  If  the  church  militant  has  never  been  with- 
out its  one  Head,  I  would  beg  to  ask  who  he  can  ber 
>ut  the  Roman  Pontiff  1" 

LUTHER,  raising  his  eyes  to  heaven, 

"  The  Head  of  the  Church  militant  is  Christ  him- 
self, and  not  a  mortal  man.  I  believe  this,  on  the  au- 


*  Faciebat  hoc  Eccius  quia  certain  sibi  gloriam  propositam 
ernebat.propter  propositionem  meam,  inquanegabam  Papam 
sse  juredivino  caput  Ecclesise  ;  hie  patuit  ei  campus  mag- 
LUS.  (L.  Opp.  in  prsef 

t  Nam  quad  monstrum  esset,  Ecclesiam  esse  acephalam  I 
L.  Opp.  lat.  i.  243.; 


THE  ROMAN  PRIMACY— EQUALITY  OF  BISHOPS— CHRIST  THE  FOUNDATION.      127 


thority  of  God's  testimony,  whose  word  says,  He  must 
reign  until  his  enemies  be  put  under  his  feet.*  Let 
us  then  no  longer  give  ear  to  those  who  put  away 
Christ  to  the  Church  triumphant  in  Heaven.  His 
kingdom  is  a  kingdom  of  failh.  We  see  not  our  Head, 
and  yet  we  are  joined  to'hirn."! 

ECK,  not  discomfited,  and  turning  toother  arguments, 
resumed  : 

"  It  is  from  Rome,  as  St.  Cyprian  tells  us,  that  sa- 
credotal  unity  proceeded. "t 

LUTHER.  "  As  regards  the  Western  Church,  agreed. 
But  is  not  this  Roman  Church  herself  derived  from  that 
of  Jerusalem  1  And,  to  speak  correctly,  the  church  of 
Jerusalem  was  mother  and  nurse  of  all  the  churches. "§ 

ECK.  "  St.  Jerome  affirms,  that  if  authority  above 
that  of  all  other  churches  is  not  lodged  with  the  Pope, 
there  will  be  in  the  Church  as  many  schisms  as  there 
are  bishops."|| 

LUTHER.  "  I  admit  it,1[  that  is  to  say,  that  if  all 
the  faithful  were  consenting,  this  authority  might, 
agreeably  to  the  principles  of  human  legislation,  be 
rightfully  ascribed  to  the  chief  pontiff.  Neither  would 
I  deny  that  if  the  whole  body  of  believers  should  con- 
sent to  acknowledge  as  first  and  chief  bishop — the 
bishop  of  Rome,  or  of  Paris,  or  of  Magdeburg,  it  would 
be  our  duty  to  acknowledge  him  as  such — from  respect 
to  this  general  consent  of  the  whole  church:  but  that 
is  what  the  world  has  never  seen,  nor  ever  will  see. 
Even  in  our  own  day,  does  not  the  Greek  church  with- 
hold her  consent  to  Rome?" 

Luther  was  at  this  time  quite  prepared  to  acknow- 
ledge the  pope  as  chief  magistrate  of  the  Church — freely 
chosen  by  it ;  but  he  denied  his  divine  right.  It  was 
not  until  a  later  period  that  he  denied  that  any  submis- 
sion was  due  to  him.  That  was  an  advance  to  which 
the  Leipsic  controversy  mainly  contributed.  But  Eck 
was  on  ground  which  Luther  knew  better  than  he.  As 
Eck  appealed  to  the  authority  of  the  Fathers,  Luther 
resolved  to  defeat  him  by  the  Fathers  themselves. 

"  That  my  construction  of  the  words,"  said  he,  "  is 
truly  what  St.  Jerome  intended,  I  will  prove  by  his  own 
epistle  to  Evagrius.  Every  bishop,  says  he,  whether 
of  Rome  or  of  Eugubium,  whether  of  Constance  or  of 
Regiurn,  whether  of  Alexandria  or  of  Thanis,  has  the 
same  honour  and  the  same  priestly  rank.**  The  influ- 
ence of  wealth,  or  the  humility  of  poverty  alone,  makes 
their  difference  of  standing." 

From  the  Fathers  Luther  passed  to  the  decrees  of 
the  councils,  which  recognize  in  the  bishop  of  Rome 
only  the  first  among  his  peers,  ft  "  We  read,"  said 
he,  "  in  the  decree  of  the  Council  of  Africa,  '  Let  not 
the  bishop  of  the  chief  see  be  called  Prince  of  the  Pon- 
tiffs, or  Sovereign  Pontiff,  or  any  other  name  of  that 
sort,  but  simply,  bishop  of  the  first  see.'  If  the  mon- 
archy of  the  bishop  of  Rome  were  of  divine  right,"  con- 
tinued Luther,  "  would  not  this  decision  be  heretical  1" 

Eck  met  this  by  one  of  the  subtle  distinctions  to 
which  he  was  so  accustomed  to  have  recourse. 

"  The  bishop  of  Rome,  if  you  please,  is  not  univer- 
sal bishop,  but  bishop  of  the  church  universal. ":}::}: 

*  1  Cor.  xv.  25. 

t  Prorsus  audiendi  non  sunt  qui  Christum  extr  a  Ecclesiam 
imlitantem  tendunt  in  triumphantem,  cum  sit  regnumfidei.  Ca- 
put  nostrum  non  videmus ;  tamen  habemus.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  i. 
213.) 

\  Unde  sacerdotalis  unitas  exorta  est.     (Ibid.  243.) 

\  Haec  est  matrix  proprie  omnium  ecclesiarum.    (Ibid.  244.) 

j|  Cui  si  non  exors  quasdam  et  ab  omnibus  eminens  detur 
potestas.  (Ibid.  243.) 

IT  Detur,  inquit,  hoc  est  jure  humano,  posse  fieri,  consenti- 
entibus  caeteris  omnibus  fidelibus.  (Ibid.  244.) 

**  Ejusdem  meriti  et  ejusdem  sacerdotti  est.  (L  Opp.  lat.  i. 
244.] 

tf  Primus  inter  pares, 

\\  Non  episcopus  universalis  seduniversalis  Ecclesise  Epis- 
copus.  (Ibid,  246.) 


LUTHER.  "  I  will  not  say  one  word  on  that  answer. 
Let  our  hearers  themselves  judge  concerning  it." 

"  Certainly,"  he  afterward  observed,  "  that  was  a 
gloss  worthy  of  a  theologian,  and  just  of  a  kind  to  con- 
tent a  disputant  eager  for  triumph.  I  have  not  remain- 
ed at  Leipsic,  at  considerable  cost,  to  no  purpose,  since 
1  have  learned  that  the  pope,  of  a  truth,  is  not  universal 
bishop,  but  bishop  of  the  church  universal  !"* 

ECK.  "  Well,  to  come  to  the  point.  The  venera- 
ble doctor  requires  from  me  a  proof  that  the  primacy 
of  the  church  of  Rome  is  of  divine  right ;  I  find  that 
proof  in  the  words  of  Christ — '  Thou  art  Peter,  and 
upon  this  rock  I  will  build  my  church."  St.  Augustine, 
in  one  of  his  epistles,  has  thus  explained  the  meaning 
of  the  passage — '  Thou  art  Peter,  and  on  this  rock,  that 
is  to  say,  on  Peter,  I  will  build  my  church.'  It  is  true, 
that  Augustine  has  elsewhere  said,  that  by  this  rock 
we  must  understand  Christ  himself,  but  he  has  not  re- 
tracted his  first  explanation." 

LUTHER.  "  If  the  reverned  doctor  brings  against 
me  these  words  of  St.  Augustine,  let  him  himself  first 
reconcile  such  opposite  assertions.  For  certain  it  is, 
that  St.  Augustine  has  repeatedly  said,  that  the  rock 
was  Christ,  and  hardly  once  that  it  was  Peter  himself. 
But  even  though  St.  Augustine,  and  all  the  Fathers, 
should  say,  that  the  apostle  is  the  rock  of  which  Christ 
spake,  I  would,  if  I  should  stand  alone,  deny  the  asser- 
tion— supported  by  the  authority  of  the  Holy  Scripture 
— in  other  words,  by  divine  right  f — for  it  is  written, 
Other  foundation  can  no  man  lay  than  that  is  laid,  even 
Christ  Jesus.$  Peter  himself  calls  Christ  the  chief 
corner-stone,  and  living  rock,  on  which  we  are  built  up 
a  spiritual  house."§ 

ECK.  "  I  am  astonished  at  the  humility  and  diffi- 
dence with  which  the  reverend  doctor  undertakes  to 
stand  alone  against  so  many  illustrious  Fathers,  thus 
affirming  that  he  knows  more  of  these  things  than  the 
Sovereign  Pontiff,  the  councils,  divines,  and  universi- 
ties !  ....  It  would  no  doubt  be  very  wonderful  if 
God  had  hidden  the  truth  from  so  many  saints  and 
martyrs  till  the  advent  of  the  reverened  father." 

LUTHER.  "The  Fathers  are  not  opposed  to  me. 
St.  Augustine,  St.  Ambrose,  and  the  most  eminent 
livines,  say  as  I  do.  On  that  confession  of  faith  the 
church  is  built,  says  St.  Ambrose,!!  explaining  what  is 
to  be  understood  by  the  stone  on  which  the  church 
rests.  Let  my  antagonist  then  restrain  his  speech. 
Such  expressions  as  he  has  just  used  do  but  stir  up 
animosity,  instead  of  helping  in  learned  discussion." 

Eck  had  not  expected  so  much  learning  in  his  adver- 
sary, and  managed  to  extricate  himself  from  the  laby- 
rinth in  which  he  had  endeavoured  to  entangle  him. 

The  reverend  father,"  said  he,  "  has  entered  on  this 
discussion,  after  well  preparing  his  subject.  Your  ex- 
cellencies will  excuse  me  if  I  should  not  produce  so 
much  exact  research.  I  came  hither  to  discuss,  and 
not  to  make  a  book."  Eck  was  in  some  sort  taken 
by  surprise,  but  not  defeated.  Having  no  other  argu- 
ment at  hand,  he  had  recourse  to  an  odious  and  con- 
temptible artifice,  which,  if  it  did  not  bear  down,  must 
at  least  greatly  embarrass  his  adversary.  If  the  suspi- 
cion of  being  a  Bohemian,  a  heretic,  a  Hussite,  do  but 
bang  over  Luther,  he  is  vanquished  ;  for  the  Bohemi- 
ans were  detested  in  the  church.  The  doctor  of  Ingol- 
stadt  adopted  this  stratagem.  "  From  primitive  times," 
said  he,  "  it  has  been  ever  acknowledged,  that  the 
Church  of  Rome  derives  her  primacy  from  Christ  him- 

*  Ego  gloriar  me  tot  expensis  non  frustra  .  .  (L.  Opp.  * 
299.) 

t  Resistam  eis  ego  unus,  auctoritate  Apostoli  id  est,  divino 
ure.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  i.  237.) 

t  1  Cor.  iii.  11.  §  1  Peter  ii.  4,  5. 

||  The  Church  is  built  upon  that  confession  of  faith.  (L. 
Opp.  lat.  i.  264.) 


128        THE  HUSSITES— COMMOTION  IN  THE  AUDIENCE— MONKISH  HORROR. 


self,  and  not  from  human  law.  I  must  admit,  how- 
ever, that  the  Bohemians,  in  their  obstinate  defence  of 
their  errors  have  attacked  this  doctrine.  I  ask  the 
reverend  father's  pardon  if  I  am  opposed  to  the  Bohe- 
mians on  account  of  their  opposition  to  the  Church  ; 
and  if  the  present  discussion  has  recalled  those  heretics 
to  my  recollection  ;  for  ....  according  to  my  humble 
judgment ...  the  inferences  the  doctor  has  drawn  are 
entirely  favourable  to  their  errors  ;  and,  it  is  said,  they 
boast  of  this."* 

Eck  had  rightly  calculated  the  effect.  All  his  par- 
tisans loudly  applauded  the  artful  insinuation,  and  an 
exultation  was  manifest  in  the  auditory.  "  These  in- 
sults," said  the  Reformers  at  a  subsequent  period, 
"  pleasd  their  fancy  much  more  than  the  progress  of 
the  discussion." 

LUTHER.  "  I  neither  love,  nor  ever  shall  love,  a 
schism.  Since  on  their  own  authority  the  Bohemians 
have  separated  from  unity  with  us,  they  are  in  the 
wrong :  even  though  divine  right  should  be  in  favour 
of  the  doctrine  :  for  the  highest  divine  right  is  love,  and 
the  unity  of  the  Spirit. "f 

It  was  on  the  5th  of  July,  in  the  morning,  that  Lu- 
ther uttered  these  words.  The  meeting  shortly  after 
broke  up,  the  dinner  hour  having  arrived.  It  is  likely 
that  some  one  of  the  friends,  or  perhaps  of  the  enemies 
of  the  doctor,  drew  his  thoughts  to  the  fact,  that  he  had 
gone  very  far  in  thus  condemning  the  Christians  of 
Bohemia.  Had  they  not  in  reality  stood  for  those 
doctrines  that  Luther  was  then  maintaining?  Hence 
it  was,  when  the  assembly  were  again  together  at  two 
in  the  afternoon,  Luther  broke  silence,  and  said,  cou- 
rageously : — "Among  the  articles  of  John  Hussandthe 
Bohemians,  there  are  some  that  are  most  agreeable  to 
Christ.  This  is  certain  ;  and  of  this  sort  is  that  arti- 
cle. *  There  is  only  one  church  universal :'  and  again  : 
'  That  is  not  necessary  to  salvation,  that  we  should  be- 
lieve the  Roman  church  superior  to  others.' — It  mat- 
ters little  to  me  whether  Wickliff,  or  Huss,  said  it.  It 
is  Truth." 

This  declaration  of  Luther  produced  an  immense 
sensation  on  the  auditory.  Huss,  Wickliff,  names  held 
in  abhorrence,  pronounced  with  respect  by  a  monk,  in 
the  midst  of  a  Catholic  assembly  !  ...  An  almost 
general  murmur  ran  round  the  hall.  Duke  George 
himself  was  alarmed.  He  foresaw  for  Saxony  the  un- 
furling of  the  standard  of  that  civil  discord  which  had 
ravaged  the  states  of  his  maternal  ancestors.  Not  able 
to  suppress  his  feelings,  he  broke  forth  in  a  loud  excla- 
mation, in  the  hearing  of  all  the  assembly  :  '*  He  is 
mad."|  Then  shaking  his  head,  he  rested  his  hands 
on  his  sides.  The  whole  assembly  was  in  high  excite- 
ment. Those  who  were  seated  rose  from  their  seats, 
conversing  in  groups.  The  drowsy  were  aroused  ; 
the  enemies  of  Luther  exulted  ;  and  his  friends  were 
greatly  perplexed.  Several  who  till  then  had  listened 
to  him  with  satisfaction,  began  to  doubt  his  orthodoxy. 
The  effect  of  this  speech  was  never  effaced  from  the 
mind  of  Duke  George  :  from  that  hour  he  looked  with 
an  evil  eye  on  the  Reformer,  and  became  his  enemy. § 

As  to  Luther,  he  did  not  give  way  to  this  burst  of 
murmurs.  "  Gregory  Nazianzen,"  continued  he,  with 
noble  calmness,  "  Basil  the  great,  Epiphanius,  Chry- 
sostom,  and  a  great  many  other  Greek  bishops,  are 
saved  ;  and  yet  they  never  believed  that  the  Church 
of  Rome  was  superior  to  other  churches.  It  does  not. 


*  Et,  ut  fama  est,  se  hoc  plurimum  gratulantur.  (Ibid.  250.) 

fNunquam  mihi  placuit  nee  in  asternum  placebit  quodcum- 
que  schisma  .  . .  Cum  supremum  jus  divinum  sit  Charitas  et 
Unitas  Spirituas.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  i.  250.) 

iDas  wait  die  Sucht ! 

^  Nam  adhuc  erat  dux  Georgius  mihi  non  inimicus,  quod 
sciebam  certo.  (L.  Opp.  in  praef.) 


belong  to  the  Roman  pontiffs  to  add  new  articles  of 
faith.  There  is  no  authority  for  the  believing  Chris- 
tian but  the  Holy  Scripture.  It,  alone,  is  of  divine 
right.  I  beg  the  worthy  doctor  Eck  to  grant  me  that 
the  Roman  pontiffs  have  been  men,  and  not  to  speak 
of  them  as  if  they  were  Gods."* 

Eck  here  resorted  to  one  of  those  pleasantries  which 
give  an  easy  advantage,  in  appearance,  to  him  who 
uses  them. 

44  The  reverend  father,  who  is  not  skilful  in  his 
cookery,"  said  he,  "  has  just  made  a  very  bad  hash  of 
heretics  and  Greek  saints  ;  so  that  the  odour  of  sanc- 
tity of  the  one,  hides  the  taste  of  poison  in  the  others."! 

LUTHER,  interrupting  Eck,  with  spirit — "  The  wor- 
thy doctor  speaks  with  effrontery.  In  my  judgment, 
Christ  can  have  no  concord  with  Belial." 

Such  were  the  discussions  which  gave  employment 
to  the  two  doctors.  The  assembly  were  attentive. 
The  interest  at  times  flagged,  however,  and  the  hearers 
were  not  displeased,  when  any  incident  occurred  to 
enliven  them  by  some  distraction.  It  often  happens, 
that  events  of  the  greatest  importance  are,  in  this  way, 
broken  in  upon  by  comic  accidents.  Something  of 
this  sort  took  place  at  Leipsic. 

Duke  George,  following  the  custom  of  the  age,  kept 
a  court  fool.  Some  wags  said  to  him,  "Luther  is 
contending  that  a  court  fool  may  get  married ;  Eck, 
maintains  the  contrary  opinion."  Hereupon  the  fool 
conceived  great  aversion  for  Eck,  and  every  time  he 
came  lo  the  hall  in  the  Duke's  suite,  he  eyed  the  theo- 
logian with  threatening  looks.  One  day,  the  chancel- 
lor of  Ingolstadt,  descending  to  buffoonery,  shut  one 
eye,  (the  fool  was  blind  of  one  eye)  and,  with  the  other, 
looked  askance  at  the  dwarf.  The  latter,  no  longer 
able  to  control  himself,  poured  forth  a  torrent  of  abuse 
on  the  learned  doctor.  The  whole  assembly,  says 
Peifer,  gave  way  to  laughter,  and  this  incident  les- 
sened, in  some  degree,  the  extreme  tension  of  their 
minds. i 

During  this  time  the  city  was  the  scene  of  events 
which  showed  the  horror  with  which  the  bold  asser- 
tions of  Luther  inspired  the  partisans  of  Rome.  The 
loudest  clamours  proceeded  from  the  convents  in  the 
Pope's  interest.  One  Sunday  the  doctor  of  VVittem- 
berg  entered  the  church  of  the  Dominicans  just  before 
high  mass.  There  were  present  only  a  few  monks, 
who  were  going  through  the  earlier  masses  at  the 
lower  altars.  As  soon  as  it  was  known  in  the  cloister 
that  the  heretic,  Luther,  was  in  the  church,  the  monks 
ran  together  in  haste,  caught  up  the  remonstrance,  and 
taking  it  to  its  receptacle,  carefully  shut  it  up,  lest  the 
holy  sacrament  should  be  profaned  by  the  impure  eyes 
of  the  Augustine  of  Wittemberg.  While  this  was 
doing,  they  who  were  reading  mass  collected  together 
the  sacred  furniture,  quitted  the  altar,  crossed  the 
church,  and  sought  refuge  in  the  sacristy,  as  if,  says  a 
historian,  the  devil  himself  had  been  behind  them. 

Everywhere  the  discussions  furnished  subject  of 
conversation.  In  the  lodging  houses,  at  the  university, 
at  the  court,  each  one  gave  his  opinion.  Duke  George, 
,vith  all  his  irritation,  did  not  pertinaciously  refuse  to 
allow  himself  to  be  convinced.  One  day,  when  Eck 
and  Luther  were  dining  with  him,  he  interrupted  their 
conversation,  by  the  remark  :  "  Whether  the  Pope  be 
by  divine  right,  or  human  right,  it  is  at  any  rate  a  fact 
that  he  is  Pope."*  Luther  was  quite  pleased  with 

Nee  potest  fidelis  Christianus  cogi  ultra  sacram  Scriptu- 
ram,  quse  est  proprie  jus  divinum.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  i.,  252.) 

f  At  Rev.  pater  or/is  coquinaria  minus  iristructus,  commis- 
cet  sanctos  graecos  cum  schismaticis  et  hereticis,  ut  fuco  sanc- 
titatis  Patrum,  hajretieorum  tueatur  perfidiam."  (Ibid.  252.) 

t  L.  Opp.  W..xv.  1440.— 2  Loscher,  iii.  281. 

§  Ita  ut  ipse  dux  Georgius  inter  prandendum  ad  Eccium  et 
me  dicat :  "  Sive  sit  jure  humano,  sive  sit  jure  divino,  papa  j 
ipse  est  papa.  (L.  Opp.  in  prsei.) 


THE  INDULGENCES— ATTENTION  OF  THE  LAITY— ECK'S  REPORT. 


129 


these  words.  "  The  prince,"  said  he,  "  would  never 
have  given  utterance  to  them,  if  my  arguments  had 
not  impressed  him." 

The  dispute  on  the  Pope's  primacy  had  lasted  five 
days.  On  the  8th  of  July  they  came  to  the  subject 
of  purgatory.  The  discussion  lasted  rather  more  than 
two  days.  Luther  at  this  time  admitted  the  existence 
of  purgatory ;  but  he  denied  that  this  doctrine  was 
taught  in  Scripture,  and  by  the  fathers  in  the  way  the 
scholastic  divines  and  his  adversary  asserted.  "Our 
doctor  Eck,"  said  he,  alluding  to  the  superficial  cha- 
racter of  his  opponent,  "  has  to-day  run  over  Scripture 
almost  without  touching  it,  as  a  spider  runs  upon  the 
water." 

On  the  llth  of  July  the  disputants  arrived  at  the 
indulgences.  "  It  was  no  better  than  play,  a  mere 
joke,"  said  Luther.  "  The  indulgences  fell  with 
scarce  the  shadow  of  defence.  Eck  agreed  with  me 
in  almost  everything."*  Eck  himself  observed,  "  If 
I  had  not  met  Doctor  Martin  on  the  question  of  the 
Pope's  primacy,  I  could  almost  come  to  agreement 
with  him."t 

The  discussion  afterward  turned  on  repentance,  the 
priest's  absolution,  and  satisfactions.  Eck,  as  his 
practice  was,  quoted  the  scholastic  divines,  the  Domi- 
nicans, and  the  Pope's  canons.  Luther  closed  the 
discussion  by  these  words  : 

"  The  reverend  doctor  avoids  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
as  the  devil  flees  from  before  the  cross.  For  my  part, 
saving  the  respect  due  to  the  fathers,  I  prefer  the 
authority  of  the  word  of  God  ;  and  it  is  that  which  I 
would  press  upon  our  judges. "J 

Thus  ended  the  dispute  between  Eck  and  Luther. 
Carlstadt,  and  the  doctor  of  Ingolstadt,  continued  for 
two  days  to  discuss  the  merits  of  man  in  good  works. 
On  the  16th  of  July  the  affair  was  terminated,  after  hav- 
ing lasted  twenty  days,  by  a  sermon  from  the  superior  of 
Leipsic.  As  soon  as  this  was  over,  a  band  of  music 
was  heard,  and  the  solemnity  was  closed  by  the  Tc 
Dcum. 

But,  during  this  solemn  chant,  men's  minds  were 
no  longer  as  they  were  when  the  hymn  Veni  Spiritus 
had  been  sung.  Already  the  presentiments  of  some 
appeared  realized.  The  arguments  of  the  two  oppos- 
ing champions  had  inflicted  an  open  wound  on  the 
papacy. 

These  theological  discussions,  which  in  our  days 
would  excite  little  attention,  had  been  followed  and 
listened  to  with  interest  for  twenty  days,  by  laymen, 
knights,  and  princes.  Duke  Barnim,  of  Pomerania, 
and  Duke  George,  were  constant  in  attendance. 
"  But  on  the  other  hand,"  says  an  eye-witness,  "  some 
Leipsic  divines,  friends  of  Eck,  slept  soundly  much  of 
the  time,  and  it  was  even  necessary  to  wake  them  at 
the  close  of  the  discussion,  lest  they  should  lose  their 
dinner." 

Luther  was  the  first  who  quitted  Leipsic.  Carl- 
stadt set  out  soon  after.  Eck  remained  a  few  days 
after  their  departure. 

No  decision  was  made  known  on  the  matters  dis- 
cussed.§  Each  one  commented  on  them  as  he  pleased. 
"  There  has  been  at  Leipsic,"  said  Luther,  "  loss  of 
time,  not  search  after  truth.  For  these  two  years 
past  that  we  have  been  examining  the  doctrines  of  the 
adversaries,  we  have  counted  all  their  bones.  Eck, 


*  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  246. 

f  So  wollt'er  fast  einig  mil  mir  gewest  seyn.     (Ibid.) 

*:  Videtur  fugere  a  facie  Scripturarum,  sicut  diabolus  cru- 
cem.  Quare,  salvis  reverentiis  Patrum,  praefero  ego  auctori- 
tatem  Scripturae,  quod  commendo  judicibus  futuris.  (L.  Opp. 
lati.291.) 

^  Ad  exitum  certaminis,  uti  solet.  nulla  prodiit  decisio. 
(Pallavicini  i.  65.) 

R 


on  the  contrary,  has  hardly  grazed  the  surface,*  yet 
he  has  made  more  outcry  in  one  hour,  than  we  in  two 
long  years." 

Eck,  in  private  letters  to  his  friends,  acknowledged 
his  having  been  defeated  on  many  points  ;  but  he  was 
at  no  loss  for  reasons  to  account  for  it.t  "  The  Wit- 
temberg  divines,"  said  he,  in  a  letter  to  Hochstraten, 
dated  the  24th  July,  "  have  had  the  best  of  the  argu- 
ment on  certain  points ;  first,  because  they  brought 
with  them  their  books;  secondly,  because  their  friends 
took  notes  of  the  discussion,  which  they  could  exam- 
ine at  home  at  leisure  ;  thirdly,  because  they  were 
several  in  number  : — two  doctors,  (Carlstadt  and  Lu- 
ther,) Lange,  vicar  of  the  Augustines,  two  licentiates, 
Amsdorff,  and  a  most  arrogant  nephew  of  Reuchlin, 
(Melancthon,)  three  doctors  of  law,  and  several  mas- 
ters of  arts,  all  were  assisting  in  the  discussion,  either 
publicly  or  in  secret.  As  for  myself,  I  came  forward 
alone,  having  only  right  on  my  side."  Eck  forgot 
Emser,  the  bishop,  and  all  the  doctors  of  Leipsic. 

If  such  admissions  were  made  by  Eck  in  his  confi- 
dential correspondence,  it  was  quite  otherwise  in  pub- 
lic. The  doctor  of  Ingolstadt,  and  the  theologians  of 
Leipsic,  loudly  boasted  of  "their  victory."  They 
spread  everywhere  false  reports.  The  mouth-pieces 
of  their  party  repeated  their  self-gratulations.  "  Eck," 
wrote  Luther,  "  boasts,  in  all  companies,  of  his  vic- 
tory. "J  But  the  laurels  were  an  object  of  contention 
in  the  camp  of  Rome.  "  If  we  had  not  come  in  aid 
of  Eck,"  said  his  Leipaic  allies,  "  the  illustrious  doctor 
would  have  been  overthrown."  "The  divines  of 
Leipsic  are  well-meaning  people,"  said  the  doctor  of 
Ingolstadt,  "  but  I  had  formed  loo  high  expectations 
from  them — I  did  all  myself."  "  You  see,"  said  Lu- 
ther to  Spalatin,  "  that  they  are  singing  another  Iliad 
and  JSneid.  They  are  so  kind  as  to  make  me  play 
the  part  of  Hector  or  Turnus,  whilst  Eck  is  their 
Achilles  or  Eneas.  Their  only  doubt  is,  whether  the 
victory  was  gained  by  the  forces  of  Eck,  or  of  Leipsic. 
All  I  can  say,  to  throw  light  on  the  question,  is,  that 
doctor  Eck  clamoured  continually,  and  the  men  of 
Leipsic  kept  continual  silence."^ 

"  Eck  has  obtained  the  victory,  in  the  opinion  of 
those  who  do  not  understand  the  question,  and  who 
have  grown  gray  in  scholastic  studies,"  observed  the 
elegant,  witty,  and  judicious  Mosellanus ;  "  but  Luther 
and  Carlstadt  remain  masters  of  the  field,  in  the  judg- 
ment of  those  who  have  learning,  intelligence,  and 
modesty."|| 

The  dispute  was,  however,  destined  not  to  vanish  in 
mere  smoke.  Every  work  done  in  faith  bears  fruit. 
The  words  of  Luther  had  found  their  way,  with  irre- 
sistible power,  to  the  minds  of  his  hearers.  Several, 
who  had  regularly  attended  in  the  hall  of  the  castle, 
were  brought  under  the  truth.  It  was  especially  in 
the  very  midst  of  its  most  active  enemies,  that  its  con- 
quests were  achieved.  Poliander,  secretary  to  Eck, 
and  his  intimate  friend  and  disciple,  was  gained  to  the 
cause  of  the  Reformation ;  and  as  early  as  the  year 
1522,  he  preached  the  gospel,  publicly,  at  Leipsic. 
John  Cellarius,  professor  of  Hebrew,  one  of  the  warm- 
est opponents  of  the  Reformation,  struck  by  the  words 
of  the  mighty  doctor,  began  to  search  the  Scriptures 


*  Totam  istam  conclusionum  cohortem  multo  acrius  et  vali- 
dius  nostri  Wittembergenses  .  .  oppugnaverunt  et  ita  examin- 
averunt  ut  ossa  eorum  numerare  licuerit,  qnas  Eccius  vix  in 
facie  cutis  leviter  perstrinxit.     (L.  Epp.  i.  291.) 
f  Verum  in  multis  me  obruerunt.     (Corpus  Reform,  i.  83.) 
i  Eccius  triumphat  ubique.     (L.  Epp.  i.  299.) 
^  Novam  quamdam  Iliada  et  JEneida  illos  cantare  . .  (L. 
Epp.  i.  305.) 

||  Lutheri  Sieg  sey  urn  so  viel  weniger  beriihmt,  weil  der 
Gelehrten,  Verstandigen,  und  derer  die  sich  selbst  nich  hoch 
riihmen,  wenig  seyen.  (Seckendorf,  207.) 


130 


GEORGE  OF  ANHALT— RESULTS  OF  THE  DISPUTATION. 


more  deeply.  Shortly  after,  he  gave  up  his  place  ;  and, 
full  of  humility,  came  to  Wittemberg,  to  study  at  the 
feet  of  Luther.  He  was  subsequently  pastor  at  Frank- 
fort, and  at  Dresden. 

Among  those  who  sat  on  the  benches  reserved  for 
the  court,  and  who  surrounded  Duke  George,  was 
George  of  Anhalt,  a  young  prince  of  twelve  years,  de- 
scended from  a  family  celebrated  for  their  bravery 
against  the  Saracens.  He  was  then  prosecuting  his 
studies  under  a  private  tutor.  This  illustrious  youth 
was  early  distinguished  for  his  eager  desire  of  know- 
ledge and  love  of  truth.  Often  he  was  heard  to  repeat 
the  proverb  of  Solomon,  "  Lying  lips  do  not  become 
a  prince."  The  discussion  at  Leipsic  awakened  in 
this  child  serious  reflections,  and  a  decided  partiality 
for  Luther.*  Shortly  after,  he  was  offered  a  bishopric. 
His  brothers  and  all  his  relations  urged  him  to  accept 
it ;  desiring  -to  see  him  rise  to  the  higher  dignities  of 
the  church.  He  was  immoveable  in  his  refusal.  On 
the  death  of  his  pious  mother,  he  found  himself  in  pos- 
session of  all  the  Reformer's  writings.  He  put  up 
constant  and  fervent  prayers  to  God,  beseeching  him  to 
bring  his  heart  under  the  power  of  the  truth  ;  and  often, 
in  the  privacy  of  his  cabinet,  he  exclaimed,  with  tears, 
"Deal  with  thy  servant  according  to  thy  mercy,  and 
teach  me  thy  statutes. "t  His  prayers  were  answered. 
Under  strong  conviction,  and  constrained  to  action  on 
it,  he  fearlessly  ranged  himself  on  the  side  of  the  gos- 
pel. In  vain  his  tutors,  and  foremost  among  them, 
Duke  George,  beseiged  him  with  entreaties  and  re- 
monstrances. He  continued  inflexible  ;  and  George, 
half  brought  over  by  the  answers  of  his  pupil,  exclaimed, 
"  I  am  not  able  to  answer  him  :  but  I  will,  neverthe- 
less, continue  in  my  church,  for  it  is  not  possible  to 
break  an  old  dog.'*  We  shall  again  meet  with  this 
amiable  prince  ;  who  was,  indeed,  one  of  the  noble 
characters  of  the  Reformation  ;  who  himself  preached 
the  word  of  life  to  his  subjects  :  and  to  whom  has  been 
applied  the  saying  of  Dion  Cassius  on  the  emperor 
Marcus  Antonius,  "  In  his  whole  life,  he  was  consis- 
tent with  himself;  a  good  man  without  any  guile. ''t 

It  was  especially  among  the  students  that  the  words 
of  Luther  were  received  with  enthusiasm.  They  felt 
the  difference  between  the  spirit  and  power  of  the  Wit- 
temberg doctor,  and  the  sophistical  distinctions  and 
vain  speculations  of  the  chancellor  of  Ingolstadt.  They 
saw  Luther  relying  on  the  word  of  God.  They  saw 
Doctor  Eck  taking  his  stand  only  on  the  traditions  of 
men.  The  effect  was  instantaneous.  The  lecturing 
halls  of  the  university  of  Leipsic  were  almost  deserted 
after  the  disputation.  A  circumstance  of  the  time 
contributed  to  this  :  the  plague  showed  itself.  But 
there  were  several  other  universities,  as  Erfurdt  or 
Ingolstadt,  to  which  the  students  might  have  retired. 
The  force  of  truth  attracted  them  to  Wittemberg. 
There  the  number  of  students  was  doubled. § 

Among  those  who  removed  from  the  one  university 
to  the  other,  there  was  a  yonng  man  of  sixteen,  of 
melancholy  character,  silent,  and  often  lost  in  abstrac- 
tion, in  the  very  midst  of  the  conversation  and  amuse- 
ments of  his  fellow-students.  ||  His  parents  had  thought 
him  of  weak  intellect,  but,  ere  long,  they  found  him 
so  quick  in  his  learning,  and  so  continually  occupied 
in  his  studies,  that  they  conceived  great  expectations 
of  him.  His  uprightness,  candor,  diffidence,  and  piety 

*  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xv.  1440. 

f  A  Deo  petivit,  flecti  pectus  suum  ad  veritatem,  ac  lacry 
mans  ssepe  naac  verba  repetivit .  . .  (M.  Adami,  Vita  Georgi 
Anhalt,  p.  243.) 

| "  O/ioioj  bia  irdvTwv  cytvero  ayaOos  6f  17 j>,  KCU  ovdtv 
irpoeiToiTjTov  tl\tv."  Vid.  Melch.  Adam.  p.  255. 

^  Peifer  Histor.    Lipsiensis,  356 

||  Et  cogitabundus  et  saape  in  medios  sodalities  quovis  pere 
grinate  animo.  (Melch.  Adami  Vita  Crucigeri,  p.  193.) 


made  him  an  object  of  general  affection,  and  Mosella- 
lus  pointed  to  him  as  a  pattern  to  the  whole  univer- 
ity.  His  name  was  Gaspard  Cruciger,  and  he  was  a 
lative  of  Leipsic.  The  young  student  of  Wittemberg, 
was,  at  a  later  period,  the  friend  of  Melancthon,  and 
ellow-labourer  with  Luther  in  the  translation  of  the 
Bible. 

The  disputation  at  Leipsic  had  yet  nobler  results. 
'.t  was  there  that  the  theologian  of  the  Reformation 
•eceived  his  call  to  the  work.  Modest  and  silent,  Me- 
ancthon  had  been  present  at  the  discussion,  taking 
scarcely  any  part  in  it.  Hitherto  he  had  applied  him- 
self only  to  literature.  The  conference  communicated 
o  him  a  new  impulse,  and  launched  the  eloquent  pro- 
"essor  into  theology.  From  that  hour  he  bowed  the 
leights  of  his  learning  before  the  word  of  God.  He 
eceived  the  evangelical  doctrine  with  the  simplicity 
if  a  child.  His  auditors  heard  him  explain  the  way 
>f  salvation  with  a  grace  and  clearness  which  delighted 
every  one.  He  advanced  boldly  in  this  path  so  new 
o  him  ;  for,  said  he,  "  Christ  will  not  be  wanting  to 
hose  who  are  his."*  From  this  period,  the  two  friends 
went  forward  together,  contending  for  liberty  and 
ruth,  the  one  with  the  energy  of  Paul,  the  other  with 
he  gentleness  of  John.  Luther  has  well  expressed 
he  difference  of  their  vocations.  "  I,"  says  he,  "  was 
born  for  struggling  on  the  field  of  battle,  with  parties 
and  devils.  Thus  it  is  that  my  writings  breathe  war 
and  tempest.  I  must  root  up  stock  and  stem,  clear 
away  thorns  and  brambles,  and  fill  up  swamps  and 
sloughs.  I  am  like  the  sturdy  woodcutter,  who  must 
clear  and  level  the  road.  But  our  master  of  arts, 
Philip,  goes  forward  quietly  and  gently,  cultivating 
and  planting,  sowing  and  watering,  joyfully,  according 
as  God  has  dealt  to  him  so  liberally  of  his  gifts. ''i 

If  Melancthon,  the  tranquil  sower,  was  called  to 
lis  work  by  the  Leipsic  discussion,  Luther,  the  sturdy 
woodcutter,  felt  that  it  added  strength  to  his  arm,  and 
lis  courage  was  proportionately  exalted.  The  might- 
est  result  of  the  discussion  was,  indaed,  that  which 
was  wrought  in  Luther  himself.  "  The  scholastic  the- 
ology," said  he,  "  then  crumbled  into  dust  before  me, 
under  the  boasted  presidence  of  Dr.  Eck."  The  co- 
vering which  the  schools  and  the  church  had  spread 
before  the  sanctuary,  was  rent  from  top  to  bottom. 
Driven  to  further  investigation,  he  attained  unexpected 
discoveries.  With  equal  surprise  and  indignation,  he 
beheld  the  evil  in  all  its  magnitude.  Searching  into 
the  annals  of  the  church,  he  discovered  that  the  su- 
premacy of  Rome  had  its  origin  in  the  ambition  of 
one  party,  and  the  credulous  ignorance  of  another. 
Silence,  as  to  these  melancholy  discoveries,  was  not 
permitted  to  him.  The  pride  of  his  adversaries,  the 
victory  they  pretended  to  have  gained — their  endea- 
vours to  put  out  the  light,  decided  his  purpose.  He  went 
forward  in  the  way  wherein  God  led  him,  without  dis- 
quieting himself  as  to  the  result  to  which  it  might  lead 
him.  Luther  has  marked  this  as  the  epoch  of  his  enfran- 
chisement from  the  papal  yoke.  "  Learn  of  me,"  says  he, 
"  how  hard  it  is  to  unlearn  the  errors  which  the  whole 
world  confirms  by  its  example,t  and  which,  by  long 
use,  have  become  to  us  as  a  second  nature.'  I  had  for 
seven  years  read  and  hourly  expounded  the  Scriptures 
with  much  zeal,  so  that  I  knew  them  almost  all  by 
heart. §  I  had  also  all  the  first  fruits  of  the  knowledge 
and  faith  of  my  Lord  Jesus  Christ :  that  is,  I  knew 
that  we  are  justified  and  saved,  not  by  our  works,  but 
by  faith  in  Christ ;  and  I  even  openly  maintained  that 

*  Christus  suis  non  deerit.     (Corpus  Reform,  i.  104.) 

t  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xv.  200. 

I  Quam  difficile  sit  eluctari  et  emergere  ex  erroribus,  totiua 
orbis  exemplo  firmatis  .  .  .  .  (L.  Opp.  lat.  in  prsef.) 

§  Per  septem  annos,  ita  ut  memoriter  penia  omnia  tenerem 
....  (Ibid.) 


ACTIVITY  OF  ECK— MELANCTHON'S  DEFENCE— FIRMNESS  OF  LUTHER. 


it  is  not  by  divine  right  that  the  pope  is  chief  of  the 
Christian  church.  And  yet  .  .  I  could  not  see  the 
conclusion  from  all  this — namely,  that  of  necessity, 
and  beyond  doubt,  the  pope  is  of  the  devil.  For  what 
is  not  of  God,  must  needs  be  of  the  devil."*  Luther 
adds,  further  on,  "  I  do  not  now  give  free  utterance 
to  my  indignation  against  those  who  still  adhere  to  the 
pope,  since  I,  who  had  for  so  many  years  read  the  holy 
Scriptures  with  so  much  care,  yet  held  to  the  papacy 
with  so  much  obstinacy."! 

Such  were  the  real  results  of  the  Leipsic  discussion, 
and  they  were  much  more  important  than  the  discus- 
sion itself.  They  were  like  the  first  successes  which 
discipline  and  inspirit  an  army. 

Eck  gave  himself  up  to  all  the  intoxication  of  what 
he  had  tried  to  represent  as  a  victory.  He  circulated 
slanders  against  Luther.  -  He  heaped  one  imputation 
upon  another.!  He  wrote  to  Frederic.  He  sought, 
like  a  skilful  general,  to  profit  by  the  confusion  which 
ever  follows  a  conflict,  in  order  to  obtain  from  the 
prince  some  important  concessions.  Before  taking 
measures  against  his  adversary  in  person,  he  invoked 
the  flames  to  consume  his  writings — even  those  which 
he  had  not  read.  He  entreated  the  elector  to  convoke 
the  provincial  council.  "  Let  us,"  said  the  foul- 
mouthed  doctor,  "  exterminate  all  these  vermin,  be- 
fore they  have  multiplied  beyond  bounds. <J 

It  was  not  against  Luther  alone  that  he  poured  out 
his  wrath.  His  rashness  called  Melancthon  into  the 
lists.  The  latter,  connected  by  the  tenderest  friend- 
ship with  the  worthy  CEcolampadius,  sent  him  an  ac- 
count of  the  discussion,  speaking  in  terms  of  com- 
mendation of  Doctor  Eck.i!  Nevertheless,  the  pride 
of  the  chancellor  of  Ingolstadt  was  wounded.  He  in- 
stantly took  pen  in  hand  against  "  that  grammarian  of 
Wittemberg,  who,  to  say  the  truth,  is  not  unacquaint- 
ed with  Greek  and  Latin,  but  had  dared  to  circulate  a 
letter,  wherein  he  had  insulted  him,  Dr.  Eck."1T 

Melancthon  answered.  This  was  his  first  theologi- 
cal writing.  It  is  marked  by  the  exquisite  urbanity 
which  distinguished  this  excellent  man.  After  laying 
down  the  principles  of  hermeneutical  science,  he  shows 
that  we  ought  not  to  explain  the  holy  Scripture  by  the 
fathers,  bur  the  fathers  by  the  holy  Scripture.  "How 
often,"  says  he,  "  has  not  Jerome  been  mistaken  !  how 
often  Augustine !  how  often  Ambrose  !  How  often 
do  we  not  find  them  differing  in  judgment ;  how  often 
do  we  not  hear  them  retracting  their  errors  !  There  is 
but  one  Scripture  divinely  inspired,  and  without  mix- 
ture of  error."** 

"  Luther  does  not  adhere  to  certain  dubious  expo- 
sitions of  the  ancients,  say  his  adversaries  :  and  why 
should  he  adhere  to  them?  In  his  explanation  of  the 
passage  of  St.  Matthew,  Thou  art  Peter,  and  on  this 
rock  will  I  build  my  church,  he  says  the  very  same 
thing  as  Origen,  who,  in  his  account,  is  a  host,  yea, 
the  very  thing  that  Augustine  writes  in  his  homily,  and 
Ambrose,  in  his  sixth  book  on  St.  Luke,  not  to  men- 
tion others.  What  then,  you  will  say,  can  the  fathers 
contradict  each  other  1  And  what  is  there  so  surpris- 

*  Quod  enim  ex  Deo  non  est,  necesse  est  ex  diabolo  esse. 
(Ibid.) 

t  Cum  ego  tot  annis  sacra  legens  diligentissime,  tamen  ita 
hassi  tenaciter.  (Ibid.) 

{  Proscidit,  post  abitum  nostrum,  Martinum  inhumanissme. 
(Melancthon  Corp.  Refor.  i.  106.) 

§  Ehe  das  Ungeziffer  uberhand  nehme.  (L.  Opp.  (L.) 
xvii  271.) 

|j  Eccius  ob  varias  et  insignes  inffenii  dotes  .  .  .  .  (L.  Opp. 
lat.  i.  337 ) 

IT  Ausns  est  grammalicus  Wittembergensis,  Graece  et  La- 
tine  sane,  non  indoctus,  epistolam  edere  .  .  .  (Ibid.  338.) 

**  Una  est  Scripturae,  ccelestis  spiritus,  pura,  et  per 
omnia  verax.  (Contra  Eckium  Defensio.  Corp.  Reform. 


ing  in  that  1*  I  reverence  the  fathers  because  I  be- 
lieve the  holy  Scripture.  The  sense  of  Scripture  is 
one  and  simple,  as  heavenly  truth  itself.  We  enter  into 
it  by  comparing  Scripture  with  Scripture,  and  deduce 
it  from  the  thread  and  connection  of  the  whole.t 
There  is  a  philosophy  enjoined  us,  with  respect  to  the 
Scriptures,  given  by  God  ;  it  is,  to  bring  to  them  all 
the  thoughts  and  maxims  of  men,  as  to  the  touch- 
stone by  which  these  are  to  be  tried. "t 

For  a  long  time,  no  one  had  so  elegantly  set  forth 
such  powerful  truths.  The  word  of  God  was  reinstat- 
ed in  its  proper  place,  and  the  fathers  in  theirs.  The 
course  by  which  a  true  sense  of  Scripture  is  obtained 
was  plainly  indicated.  The  preaching  of  the  Gospel 
rose  above  the  difficulties  and  glosses  of  the  schools. 
Melancthon  furnished  a  means,  available  for  all  times, 
of  answering  those  who,  like  Dr.  Eck,  would  involve 
this  subject  in  perplexities.  The  weak  "  grammarian  " 
had  arisen,  and  the  broad  and  robust  shoulders  of  the 
scholastic  gladiator  had  yielded  under  the  first  move- 
ment of  his  arm. 

The  more  Eck  felt  his  weakness,  the  louder  were 
his  clamours.  He  thought,  by  rhodomontade  and  ac- 
cusations, to  secure  the  victory  which  his  argument 
had  failed  to  achieve.  The  monks,  and  all  the  parti- 
sans of  Rome,  re-echoed  these  clamours.  From  all 
parts  of  Germany,  reproaches  were  showered  upon  Lu- 
ther ;  but  he  remained  unmoved  by  them.  "  The 
more  reproach  is  heaped  upon  me,"  said  he,  at  the 
conclusion  of  some  explanations,  which  he  published, 
of  the  propositions  of  Leipsic,  "  the  more  do  I  glory 
in  it.  Truth,  that  is  to  say,  Christ,  must  increase, 
while  I  must  decrease.  The  voice  of  the  bridegroom 
and  of  the  bride,  gives  me  a  joy  that  is  far  above  the 
fears  their  clamours  cause  me.  It  is  r,ot  men  that  are 
opposing  me,  and  I  have  no  enmity  against  them.  It 
is  Satan,  the  prince  of  evil,  who  is  labouring  to  inti- 
midate me.  But  he  who  is  in  us  is  greater  than  he  who 
is  in  the  world.  The  opinion  of  this  age  is  against  us 
— that  of  posterity  will  be  more  favourable."^ 

If  the  tiiscussion  at  Leipsic  multiplied  the  enemies  of 
Luther  in  Germany,  it  augmented  the  number  of  his 
friends  in  distant  parts.  "  That  which  Huss  was  for- 
merly in  Bohemia,"  wrote  the  Brethren  to  him  from 
that  country,  "  you,  Martin,  are  now  in  Saxony  ;  there- 
fore, continue  in  prayer,  and  be  strong  in  the  Lord." 

About  this  time  a  rupture  took  place  between  Luther 
and  Emser,  then  professor  at  Leipsic.  The  latter 
wrote  to  Dr.  Zack,  a  zealous  Roman  Catholic  of  Prague, 
a  letter  apparently  intended  to  remove  from  the  Huss- 
ites the  impression  that  Luther  partook  of  their  views. 
Luther  could  not  doubt  that  the  design  of  the  Leipsic 
professor  was  under  the  semblance  of  justifying  him, 
to  cause  the  suspicion  to  hang  over  him,  of  adhering 
to  the  Bohemian  heresy,  and  he  resolved  at  once  to 
rend  asunder  the  veil  with  which  his  former  guest  at 
Dresden  sought  to  cover  his  enmity.  With  this  view 
he  published  a  letter,  addressed  "  to  the  he-goat, 
Emser."  (The  armorial  bearing  of  Emser  was  a  he- 
goat.)  He  concluded  this 'writing  with  words  which 
well  express  the  writer's  character — "  Love  for  all  men, 
but  fear  of  none  !"|| 

While  new  friends  and  new  enemies  came  forth, 
some  earlier  friends  began  to  show  signs  of  estrange- 
ment from  Luther.  Staupitz,  by  whose  means  the 

*  Quid  igitur  ?  Ipsi  secum  pugnant !  quid  mirum  1  (Con- 
tra Eckium  Defensio,  Corp.  Reform,  i.  p.  115.) 

t  Quern  collatis  Scripturis  e  filo  ductuque  oraticnis  licet  as- 
sequi.  (Ibid.  114.) 

|  Ut  hominum  sententias,  decretaque  ad  ipas,  cou  ad  Lydi- 
um  lapidem  exigamus.  (Ibid.) 

^  Praasens  male  judicat  zetas  ;  judicium  melius  posteritatis 
ent.  (L.  Opp.  Lat.  i.  310.) 

||  L  Opp.  Lat.  i.  252. 


132 


CHRIST  GIVEN  FOR  US  !— THE  LORD'S  SUPPER. 


Reformer  had  emerged  from  the  obscurity  of  the  clois 
ter  of  Erfurth,  began  to  evince  some  coldness  towart 
him.  Luther  rose  to  an  elevation  of  views,  whithe 
Staupitz  was  not  able  to  follow  him.  "You  abandon 
me,"  wrote  Luther  to  him  ;  "  I  have  been  all  this  dai 
grieving  like  a  weaned  child.*  I  dreamed  of  you  las 
night,"  continues  the  Reformer.  "  I  thought  you 
were  taking  leave  of  me,  and  I  was  weeping  and  sob 
bing  bitterly  ;  but  I  thought  you  put  out  your  hand  to 
me,  and  bade  me  be  tranquil,  for  you  would  return  to 
me  again." 

The  peace-maker,  Miltitz,  resolved  to  make  another 
effort  to  calm  the  minds  of  the  disputants.  But  wha 
influence  could  be  had  over  men  still  agitated  bv  the 
feeling  of  conflict.  His  endeavours  were  unavailing 
He  presented  the  famous  Golden  Rose  to  the  Elector, 
and  the  prince  did  not  give  himself  the  trouble  even  to 
receive  it  in  person. f  Frederic  well  knew  the  arti- 
fices of  Rome  ;  it  was  useless,  therefore,  to  think  any 
longer  of  deceiving  him.} 

Far  from  giving  ground,  Luther  continued  to  advance. 
It  was  at  this  time  that  he  struck  one  of  his  hea- 
viest blows  against  prevailing  error,  by  publishing  his 
first  Commentary  on  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians.§ 
The  second  commentary  undoubtedly  surpassed  the 
first ;  but  even  in  this  he  set  forth  with  great  power 
the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith.  Every  word  of 
the  new  apostle  was  full  of  life,  and  God  made  use  of 
him  as  an  instrument  to  introduce  the  knowledge  of 
himself  into  the  hearts  of  the  people.  "  Christ  has 
given  Himself  for  our  sins,"  said  Luther  to  his  con- 
temporaries :||  "  It  is  not  silver  or  gold  that  he  has 
given  for  us  ;  it  is  not  a  man,  it  is  not  the  host  of 
angels  ;  it  is  Himself,  without  whom  nothing  is  great, 
that  he  has  given.  And  this  incomparable  treasure  he  has 
given  for  our  sins  !  Where  now  are  those  who  proudly 
boast  the  power  of  our  will  1 — where  are  the  precepts 
of  moral  philosophy  1  where  the  power  and  the  obliga- 
tion of  the  law  1  Since  our  sins  are  so  great  that  no- 
thing less  than  a  ransom  so  stupendous  could  remove 
them,  shall  we  still  seek  to  attain  unto  righteousness 
by  the  strength  of  our  will,  by  the  force  of  law,  bv  the 
doctrines  of  men  ?  What  use  can  we  have  of  all  these 
subtleties  and  delusions  ?  Alas  !  they  could  but  cover 
our  iniquities  with  a  cloak  of  lies,  and  make  us  hypo- 
crites beyond  the  reach  of  salvation." 

But  while  Luther  proved  that  there  is  no  salvation 
for  man  but  in  Christ ;  he  showed,  also,  that  this  sal- 
vation changes  the  heart  of  man,  and  makes  him  abound 
in  good  works.  "  He  who  has  truly  heard  the  word  of 
Christ,  and  keeps  it,  is  thenceforward  clothed  with  the 
spirit  of  charity.  If  thou  lovest  him  who  hath  made 
thee  a  present  of  twenty  florins,  or  rendered  thee  any 
service,  or  testified  in  any  other  way  his  affection  to- 
ward you,  how  much  more  shouldest  thou  love  Him, 
who  hath  given  for  thee,  not  gold  or  silver,  but  himself; 
who  hath  received  for  thee  so  many  wounds  ;  who 
hath  undergone  for  thy  sake  an  agony  and  sweat  of 
blood  ;  who,  in  thy  stead,  hath  suffered  death  ;  in  a 
word,  who,  in  discharge  of  thy  sins,  hath  swallowed  up 
death,  and  acquired  for  thee  a  Father  in  heaven  full  of 
love !  If  thou  dost  not  love  him,  thy  heart  hath  not 
entered  into  or  understood  the  things  which  he  hath 
done  ;  thou  hast  not  believed  them  ;  for  faith  worketh 
by  love." — "  This  epistle  is  my  epistle,"  said  Luther, 
speaking  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians  ;  "  I  have  es- 
poused it." 

*  Ego  super  te,  sicut  abalactatus  super  matre  sua,  tristissi- 
mus  hac  die  fui.  (L.  Epp.  i.  342.) 

t  Rosam  quam  vocant  auream  nullo  honore  dignatus  est ; 
imo  pro  ridicule  habuit.  (L  Opp.  lat.  in  praef.) 

J  Intellexit  princeps  artes  Romanae  curias  et  eos  [legatos] 
digne  tractare  novit.  (Ibid.) 

§  September,  1519.  |[  L.  Opp.  (L)  x.  461. 


His  adversaries  did  but  hasten  his  progress.  With- 
out them  it  would  have  been  more  gradual.  Eck  pro- 
voked against  him  at  this  period  a  new  attack  on  the 
part  of  the  Franciscans  of  Juterbok.  Luther,  in  his 
answer,*  not  satisfied  with  repeating  what  he  had  al- 
ready taught,  attacked  some  errors  which  he  had  re- 
cently discovered  :  "  I  should  be  glad  to  be  informed," 
said  he,  "  where,  in  the  Scriptures,  the  power  of  ca- 
nonizing saints  has  been  given  to  the  Popes  ;  and  also 
what  necessity,  what  use  there  can  be,  in  canonizing 
them?"  "  For  aught  it  matters,"  he  added,  ironically, 
"  let  them  go  on  canonizing  to  their  heart's  content.''! 
These  new  attacks  of  Luther  remained  unanswered. 
The  infatuation  of  his  enemies  favoured  him  as  much 
as  his  own  courage.  They  contended,  with  much 
warmth  and  passion,  for  things  that  were  at  most  but 
secondary  and  subordinate  opinions  ;  and  when  Luther 
assailed  the  very  foundations  of  the  Romish  doctrine, 
they  saw  them  struck  without  uttering  a  word.  They 
exerted  themselves  to  defend  some  advanced  out- 
works at  the  very  time  that  their  intrepid  adversary  was 
penetrating  into  the  citadel,  and  planting  there  the 
standard  of  the  truth.  Hence  they  were  afterward 
much  astonished  to  see  the  fortress,  of  which  they  had 
constituted  themselves  the  defenders,  undermined,  on 
fire,  and  sinking  in  the  midst  of  the  flames,  while 
they  thought  it  impregnable,  and  were  braving  the 
besiegers.  It  is  the  ordinary  course  in  such  catastro- 
ahes. 

The  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  began  now  to 
occupy  the  thoughts  of  Luther.  He  sought  in  vain  to 
ind  this  holy  Supper  in  the  Mass.  One  day  (it  was  a 
•hort  time  after  his  return  from  Leipsic,)  he  ascended 
he  pulpit.  Let  us  pay  attention  to  his  words,  for  they 
are  the  first  he  uttered  on  a  subject,  which  has  since 
divided  the  Reformed  Church  into  two  parties : 
'  There  are  three  things,"  said  he,  "  necessary  to  be 
understood  in  the  holy  sacrament  of  the  altar :  the 
sign,  which  must  be  external,  visible,  and  under  a  cor- 
)oreal  form  ;  the  thing  signified,  which  is  internal, 
spiritual,  and  within  the  soul  of  man  ;  and  Faith,  which 
uses  both."}  If  definitions  had  been  carried  no  further, 
he  unity  of  the  Church  would  not  have  been  destroy- 
ed. Luther  continued  : 

1  It  would  be  well  if  the  Church,  in  a  general  coun- 
cil, would  order  the  sacrament  to  be  administered  in 
both  kinds  '  to  all  believers  ;  not  however  that  one 
cind  would  not  be  sufficient,  for  Faith  of  itself  would 
uffice." 

These  bold  words  pleased  his  hearers.  Some,  how- 
ver,  were  surprised,  and  angry.  "  It  is  false,"  said 
hey  ;  "  it  is  a  scandal. "§  The  preacher  continued  : 

There  is  no  union  more  intimate,  more  deep,  more 
ndivisible,  than  that  which  takes  place  between  the 
ood  and  the  body  which  the  food  nourishes.  Christ 
nites  himself  to  us  in  the  sacrament  in  such  a  man- 
or, that  he  acts  as  if  he  were  identical  with  us.  Our 
ins  assail  him:  his  righteousness  defends  MS." 

But  Luther  was  not  satisfied  with  declaring  the 
ruth  :  he  attacked  one  of  the  fundamental  errors  of 
Rome. II  The  Romish  Church  pretends  that  the  sa- 
rament  operates  by  itself,  independently  of  the  person 
vho  receives  it.  Nothing  can  be  more  convenient 
han  such  an  opinion.  Hence  the  ardour  with  which 
he  sacrament  is  sought  for,  and  hence  come  the  profits 
f  the  Romish  clergy.  Luther  attacked  this  doctrii;e,1T 

*  Defensio  contra  malignum  Eccii  judicium.     (I.  lat.  356.) 
f  Canonizet  quisque  quantum  volet.     (Ibid.  367  ) 
t  L.  Opp,  (L.)  xvii.  272.  §  L.  Opp.  (L.)  Ibid.  281. 

•|  Si  quis  dixerit  per  ipsa  novje  legis  sacramenta  ex  opsrc 
perato  non  conferri  gratiam,  sed  solam  fidcm  divins  promis- 
ionis,  ad  gratiam  consequendom   sufficere,  anathema  sit 
Concil.  Trident.  Sess.  7.  can.  8.) 
IT  Kown  by  the  name  of  opus  opcratum. 


IS  FAITH  NECESSARY  .'—GOD'S  WORD  A  SWORD— LUTHER'S  CALMNESS       133 


and  met  it  with  its  opposite,*  which  requires  faiih  and 
consent  of  heart  in  him  who  receives  it. 

This  energetic  protest  was  calculated  to  overthrow 
the  long  established  superstitions.  But,  strange  to  say, 
no  attention  was  paid  to  it.  Rome  passed  unnoticed, 
what  one  would  have  thought  would  have  called  forth 
a  shriek,  while  she  bore  down  haughtily  on  a  remark 
Luther  had  let  fall  at  the  commencement  of  his  dis- 
course, on  "communion  in  both  kinds." 

This  discourse  having  been  published  in  the  month 
of  December,  a  cry  of  heresy  arose  on  all  sides.  "  It 
is  the  doctrine  of  Prague,  to  all  intents  and  purposes  !" 
was  the  exclamation  at  the  court  of  Dresden,  where  the 
sermon  arrived  during  the  festival  of  Christmas  : 
"  besides,  the  work  is  written  in  German,  in  order  that 
the  common  people  may  understand  it."t  The  devotion 
of  the  prince  was  disturbed,  and,  on  the  third  day  of 
the  festival,  he  wrote  to  his  cousin  Frederic  :  "  Since 
the  publication  of  this  discourse,  the  number  of  the 
Bohemians  who  received  the  Lord's  Supper,  in  both 
kinds,  has  increased  six  thousand.  Your  Luther,  in- 
stead of  a  simple  Wittemberg  professor,  will  ere  long 
be  Bishop  of  Prague,  and  an  arch-heretic."  "  He  is  a 
Bohemian  by  birth,''  said  some,  and  of  Bohemian  pa- 
rents !  He  was  brought  up  at  Prague,  and  instructed 
from  the  writings  of  Wickliff!" 

Luther  thought  fit  to  contradict  these  reports  in  a 
tract,  wherein  he  formally  gave  an  account  of  his  ori- 
gin. "  I  was  born  at  Eisleben,"  he  said,  "  and  was 
baptized  in  the  Church  of  St.  Peter.  I  never  in  my 
life  was  nearer  to  Bohemia  than  Dresden."* 

The  letter  of  Duke  George  did  not  estrange  the 
Elector  from  Luther.  A  few  days  afterward,  this 
prince  invited  the  doctor  to  a  splendid  banquet,  which 
he  gave  to  the  Spanish  Ambassador,  and  Luther  on 
this  occasion  boldly  disputed  with  the  minister  of 
Charles. §  The  Elector,  through  the  medium  of  his 
chaplain,  had  begged  him  to  defend  his  cause  with  mo- 
deYation.  "  Too  much  imprudence  displeases  men," 
answered  Luther  to  Spalatin,  "  but  too  much  prudence 
is  displeasing  to  God.  It  is  impossible  to  make  a  stand 
for  the  Gospel  without  creating  some  disturbance  and 
offence.  The  word  of  God  is  a  sword,  waging  war, 
overthrowing  and  destroying  ;  it  is  a  casting  down, II  a 
disturbance,  and  comes,  as  the  prophet  Amos  says, 
as  a  bear  in  the  way,  and  as  a  lion  in  the  forest.  I 
want  nothing  from  them.  I  asked  nothing.  There 
is  One  above  who  seeks  and  requires.  Whether  his 


That  of  opus  operantis. 


f  L  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  -281. 


J  Cseteram  ego  natus  sum  in  Eisleben.  (Luth.  Epp.  i. 
i.  389) 

^  Cum  quo  hcri  ego  et  Phillippus  certavimus,  splendide  in- 
vitati.  (Ibid  396.) 

II  Verbum  Dei  gladius  est,  bellum  est,  ruina  est,  scandalum 
est,  perditio  est,  venenum  est.  .  .  .  (Ibid.  417.) 


requirements  be  disregarded  or  obeyed,  affects  not 
me."»t 

Everything  announced  that  Luther  would  soon  have 
more  need  than  ever  of  faith  and  courage.  Eck  was 
forming  plans  of  vengeance.  Instead  of  gathering  the 
laurels  which  he  had  reckoned  upon,  the  gladiator  of 
Leipsic  had  become  the  laughing-stock  of  all  the  men 
of  sense  of  his  country.  Keen  satires  were  published 
against  him.  One  appeared  as  a  "  letter  from  some 
unlearned  Canons."  It  was  written  by  CEcolampa- 
dius,  and  stung  Eck  to  the  quick.  Another  was  a  com- 
plaint against  Eck,  probably  written  by  the  excellent 
Pirckheimer,  of  Nuremburg,  abounding  in  a  pungency, 
and  at  the  same  time  a  dignity  of  which  nothing  but 
the  Provincial  Letters  of  Pascal  can  convey  any  idea. 

Luther  expressed  his  displeasure  at  some  of  these 
writings.  "  It  is  better,"  said  he,  "  to  attack  openly, 
than  to  wound  from  behind  a  hedge."* 

How  was  the  Chancellor  of  Ingolstadt  deceived  in 
his  calculations !  His  countrymen  abandoned  him. 
He  prepared  to  cross  the  Alps,  to  invoke  foreign  as- 
sistance. Wherever  he  went,  he  breathed  threats 
against  Luther,  Melancthon,  Carlstadt,  and  even  the 
Elector  himself.  "  Judging  by  the  haughtiness  of  hia 
words,"  says  the  Doctor  of  Wittemberg,  "  one  would 
say  that  he  imagines  himself  to  be  the  Almighty."! 
Inflamed  with  anger  and  the  thirst  of  vengeance,  Eck 
took  his  departure  for  Italy,  there  to  receive  the  reward 
of  his  asserted  triumphs,  and  to  forge  in  the  capitol  at 
Rome  mightier  bolts  than  those  weapons  of  scholastic 
controversy  which  had  been  broken  in  his  hands. 

Luther  well  knew  the  dangers  which  this  journey 
of  his  antagonist  was  likely  to  draw  down  on  him,  but 
he  did  not  quail.  Spalatin,  in  alarm,  urged  him  to 
make  advances  to  an  accommodation.  "  No,"  replied 
Luther,  so  long  as  he  challenges,  I  dare  not  withdraw 
from  the  contest.  I  commit  everything  to  God,  and 
give  up  my  bark  to  the  winds  and  waves.  The  battle 
is  the  Lord's.  Why  will  you  fancy  that  it  is  by  peace 
that  Christ  will  advance  his  cause  1  Has  he  not  him- 
self— have  not  all  the  martyrs  after  him,  poured  forth 
their  blood  in  the  conflict  ?"J 

Such,  at  the  commencement  of  the  year  1520,  was 
the  position  of  the  two  combatants  of  Leipsic.  The 
one  engaged  in  rousing  the  power  of  the  Papacy  to 
crush  his  rival.  The  other  awaiting  the  contest  with 
all  the  calmness  of  one  who  seems  to  reckon  upon 
peace.  The  year  then  opening  was  destined  to  wit- 
ness the  bursting  of  the  storm. 

Ego  nihil  quaero  :  est,  qui  quaerat.  Stet  ergo,  sive  cadat  • 
ego  nihil  lucror,  aut  amitto.  (Ibid.  418.) 

f  Melior  est  aperta  criminatio,  quam  iste  sub  sepe  morsus, 
(L.  Epp.  i.  426.) 

J  Deum  crederes  omnipotentem  loqui.     (Ib.  380.) 
!$  Cogor  rem  Deo  committere,  data  ilatibus  et  fluctibus  nave  ; 
j  Bellum  Domini  est.     (Ibid.  425.) 


BOOK  VI. 

THE  ROMAN  BULL,  1520. 


A  NEW  actor  was  about  to  appear  on  the  stage.  It 
Was  the  will  of  God  that  the  monk  of  Wittemberg 
should  be  brought  face  to  face  with  the  most  powerful 
monarch  who  had  appeared  in  Christendom  since  the 
days  of  Charlemagne,  He  made  choice  of  a  prince 


in  the  vigour  of  youth,  to  whom  everything  promised 
a  reign  of  long  duration,  a  prince  whose  sceptre  b».re 
sway  over  a  considerable  part  of  the  old,  and  also  o\er 
a  new,  world,  so  that,  according  to  a  celebrated  say- 
ing, the  sun  never  set  upon  hia  vast  domains;  and 


134 


CANDIDATES  FOR  THE  EMPIRE— CHARLES— FRANCIS  I. 


with  this  prince  he  confronted  the  humble  Reforma 
tion,  that  had  had  its  beginning  in  the  secret  cell  of 
convent  at  Erfurth,  in  the  anguish  and  groans  of  a  poo 
monk.  The  history  of  this  monarch,  and  of  his  reign 
was  destined,  apparently,  to  read  an  important  lesson 
to  the  world.  It  was  to  show  the  nothingness  of  al 
"  the  strength  of  man,"  when  it  presumes  to  strive 
against  "  the  weakness  of  God."  Had  a  prince 
friendly  to  Luther,  been  called  to  the  empire,  the  sue 
cess  of  the  Reformation  might  have  been  attributed  t( 
his  protection.  Had  an  emperor  of  feeble  characte: 
filled  the  throne — even  though  he  should  have  beer 
opposed  to  the  new  doctrine,  the  success  that  attendee 
it  might  have  admitted  of  explanation  by  the  weaknes 
of  the  reigning  sovereign.  But  it  was  the  haughty 
conqueror  of  Pavia  whose  pride  was  to  be  humblec 
before  the  power  of  the  divine  Word  ;  and  the  whole 
world  was  called  to  witness,  that  he  to  whom  power 
was  given  to  lead  Francis  I.  to  the  dungeons  of  Mad- 
rid, was  compelled  to  lay  down  the  sword  before  the 
son  of  a  poor  miner. 

The  Emperor  Maximilian  was  no  more.  The  elec- 
tors were  assembled  at  Frankfort  to  choose  his  succes- 
sor. This  was  a  decision  of  high  importance  to  all 
Europe  under  present  circumstances.  All  Christen- 
dom was  occupied  with  the  election.  Maximilian  had 
not  been  what  is  called  a  great  prince  ;  but  his  memory 
was  dear  to  the  people.  They  were  fond  of  calling  to 
mind  his  ready  wit,  and  good  nature.  Luther  often 
mentioned  him  in  conversation  with  his  friends,  and 
one  day  related  the  following  sally  of  the  monarch : 

A  mendicant  was  following  him  closely,  asking  alms, 
and  calling  him  brother ;  "  for,"  said  he,  "  we  are  both 
descended  from  the  same  father,  Adam.  I  am  poor," 
he  continued,  "  but  you  are  rich,  and  therefore  ought 
to  assist  me."  The  emperor  turned  round  at  these 
words,  and  said  :  "  Here,  take  this  penny  ;  go  to  your 
other  brethren,  and  if  every  one  of  them  gives  you  as 
much,  you  will  soon  be  richer  than  I  am."* 

The  crisis  required,  for  the  Imperial  crown,  a  prince 
of  more  energy  than  the  good-natured  Maximilian. 
The  times  were  about  to  change  ;  ambitious  potentates 
were  to  contest  the  throne  of  the  Emperors  of  the 
West ;  a  powerful  hand  must  seize  the  reins  of  the 
Empire,  and  long  and  bloody  wars  must  succeed  to  a 
profound  peace. 

Three  kings  contended  at  the  diet  of  Frankfort  for 
the  crown  of  the  Caesars.  A  young  prince,  grandson 
of  the  late  Emperor,  born  in  the  first  year  of  the  cen- 
tury, and  consequently  nineteen  years  of  age,  was  the 
first  who  presented  himself.  He  was  named  Charles, 
and  was  born  at  Ghent.  His  grandmother,  on  the 
father's  side,  Mary,  daughter  of  Charles  the  Bold,  had 
bequeathed  to  him  Flanders,  and  the  rich  territories 
of  Burgundy.  His  mother,  Joanna,  daughter  of  Fer- 
dinand of  Arragon,  and  Isabella  of  Castile,  and  wife  of 
Philip,  son  of  the  Emperor  Maximilian,  had  transmit- 
ted to  him  the  united  crowns  of  Spain,  Naples,  and 
Sicily :  to  which  Christopher  Columbus  had  added  a 
new  World.  The  death  of  his  grandfather  placed  him 
at  this  moment  in  possession  of  the  hereditary  domi- 
nions of  Austria.  This  young  prince,  endowed  with 
much  intelligence,  and  amiable  when  it  pleased  him 
to  be  so,  combined  with  the  taste  for  military  exercises, 
in  which  the  illustrious  Dukes  of  Burgundy  had  so  long 
distinguished  themselves,  the  subtlety  and  penetration 
of  the  Italians,  the  reverence  for  existing  institutions 
which  still  characterises  the  house  of  Austria,  and 
which  promised  a  firm  and  zealous  defender  to  the 
Papacy,  and  a  great  knowledge  of  public  affairs,  ac- 
quired under  the  tutorship  of  Chievres.  From  the 
age  of  fifteen  he  had  attended  at  all  the  deliberations  of 

*L.Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  1869. 


his  council.*  These  various  qualities  were  in  some 
degree  concealed  and  veiled  by  the  reserve  and  taci- 
turnity peculiar  to  the  Spanish  nation.  There  was 
something  melancholy  in  his  long,  thin  visage.  "  He 
is  pious  and  silent,"  said  Luther;  "I  venture  to  say 
that  he  does  not  speak  so  much  in  a  year  as  I  do  in  a 
day."t  If  the  character  of  Charles  had  been  developed 
under  the  influence  of  liberal  and  Christian  principles, 
he  would  perhaps  have  been  one  of  the  most  admirable 
princes  recorded  in  history  ;  but  political  considera- 
tions absorbed  his  thoughts,  and  tarnished  his  better 
qualities. 

Not  contented  with  the  many  sceptres  gathered  to- 
gether in  his  hand,  the  young  Charles  aspired  to  the 
imperial  dignity.  "  It  is  a  sunbeam  which  sheds  splen- 
dour on  the  house  it  lights  upon."  remarked  some  ; 
"  but  when  any  one  puts  forth  the  hand  to  lay  hold  on 
it,  he  grasps  nothing."  Charles,  on  the  contrary,  saw 
in  it  the  summit  of  all  earthly  greatness,  and  a  means 
of  obtaining  a  sort  of  magic  influence  over  the  minds 
of  the  people. 

Francis  I.  of  France,  was  the  second  of  the  compe- 
titors. The  young  paladins  of  the  court  of  this  king, 
"ncessantly  urged  on  him,  that  he  ought,  like  Charle- 
magne, to  be  Emperor  of  all  the  West  ;  and  following 
the  example  of  the  knights  of  old,  lead  them  against 
the  Crescent,  which  menaced  the  empire,  strike  the 
Dower  of  the  infidels  to  the  dust,  and  recover  the  holy 
sepulchre.  "It  is  necessary,"  said  the  ambassadors 
of  Francis  to  the  Electors,  "to  prove  to  the  dukes  of 
Austria,  that  the  imperial  crown  is  not  hereditary. 
Germany  has  need,  under  existing  circumstances,  not 
of  a  young  man  of  nineteen,  but  of  a  prince  who  unites, 
with  experienced  judgment,  talents  already  acknow- 
"edged.  Francis  will  combine  the  forces  of  France 
md  Lombardy,  with  those  of  Germany,  to  make  war 
upon  the  Musselmans.  Besides  this,  as  he  is  sovereign 
of  the  duchv  of  Milan,  he  is  already  a  member  of  the 
Empire."  The  French  ambassadors  supported  these 
irguments  with  400,000  crowns,  expended  in  purchas- 
ng  suffrages,  and  with  entertainments,  at  which  the 
juests  were  to  be  gained  over  to  their  party. 

Lastly,  Henry  VIII.,  king  of  England,  jealous  of  the 
)ower  which  the  choice  of  the  Electors  would  give, 
either  to  Francis  or  to  Charles,  also  entered  the  lists  : 
mt  he  soon  left  these  two  powerful  rivals  to  dispute 
he  crown  between  them. 

The  Electors  were  disinclined  to  the  cause  of  the 
alter  candidates.  The  people  of  Germany,  they 
bought,  would  see  in  the  king  of  France  a  foreign 
master,  and  this  master  might  very  likely  deprive  them- 
elves  of  that  independence  of  which  the  nobility  of 
lis  own  dominions  had  lately  seen  themselves  stripped. 
As  for  Charles,  it  was  an  established  maxim  with  the 
Electors,  not  to  choose  a  prince  already  playing  an 
mportant  part  in  the  Empire.  The  Pope  partook  of 
heir  apprehensions  from  such  a  choice.  He  .vas  for 
ejecting  the  king  of  Naples,  his  neighbour,  and  the 
ting  of  France,  whose  enterprising  spirit  he  dreaded. 
'  Choose  rather  one  from  among  yourselves  ,"  was  the 
.dvice  he  caused  to  be  conveyed  to  the  Electors.  The 
Clector  of  Treves  proposed  the  nomination  of  Frederic 
f  Saxony.  The  Imperial  crown  was  laid  at  the  feet 
f  this  friend  of  Luther. 

Such  a  choice  would  have  obtained  the  approbation 
f  all  Germany.  The  prudence  of  Frederic,  and  his 
ove  for  the  people  were  well  known.  At  the  time  of 
be  revolt  of  Erfurth,  he  had  been  urged  to  lake  that 
own  by  assault.  He  refused,  that  he  might  spare  the 
ffusioii  of  blood.  And  when  it  was  urged  that  the 
ssault  would  not  cost  the  lives  of  five  men :  his  an- 

*  Memoires  de  Du  Bellay,  i.  46. 
fL.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  1874. 


THE  CROWN  OFFERED  TO  FREDERICK-CHARLES  ELECTED. 


135 


swer  had  been,  "  A  single  life  would  be  too  much."* 
It  seemed  as  if  the  election  of  the  protector  of  the  Re- 
formation was  on  the  point  of  securing  its  triumph. 
Ought  not  Frederic  to  have  regarded  the  wish  of  the 
Electors  as  a  call  from  God  himself?  Who  was  bet- 
ter able  to  preside  over  the  destinies  of  the  Empire, 
than  so  prudent  a  prince  1  Who  more  likely  to  with- 
stand the  Turks  than  an  Emperor  abounding  in  faith  1 
It  may  be  that  the  Elector  of  Saxony's  refusal,  so  much 
lauded  by  historians,  was  a  fault  on  the  part  of  this 
prince.  It  may  be  that  the  struggles  by  which  Germany 
was  afterward  torn,  are  to  be  partly  attributed  to  this 
refusal.  But  it  is  ha/d  to  say,  whether  Frederic  de- 
serves censure  for  want  of  faith,  or  honour  for  his  hu- 
mility. He  judged  that  the  safety  of  the  Empire  re- 
quired that  he  should  refuse  the  crown,  t  "  There  is 
need  of  an  Emperor  more  powerful  than  myself  to  save 
Germany  ;"  said  this  modest  and  disinterested  prince  : 
"  the  Turk  is  at  our  gates.  The  king  of  Spain,  whose 
hereditary  possessions  (in  Austria)  border  on  the 
menaced  frontier,  is  its  natural  defender." 

The  Legate  of  Rome,  seeing  that  Charles  was  about 
to  be  chosen,  declared  that  the  Pope  withdrew  his  ob- 
jections ;  and,  on  the  28th  of  June,  the  grandson  of 
Maximilian  was  elected.  "  God,"  said  Frederic,  at  a 
subsequent  period,  "  has  given  him  to  us  in  mercy  and 
in  displeasure."!  The  Spanish  envoys  offered  30,000 
gold  florins  to  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  as  a  mark  of 
their  master's  gratitude  ;  but  this  prince  refused  the 
gift,  and  prohibited  his  ministers  from  accepting  any 
present.  At  the  same  time,  he  contributed  to  the 
security  of  the  liberties  of  Germany,  by  a  treaty  to 
which  the  envoys  of  Charles  swore  in  his  name.  The 
circumstances  under  which  the  latter  assumed  the 
Imperial  crown,  seemed  to  give  a  stronger  pledge  than 
these  oaths  in  favour  of  German  liberty,  and  of  the 
continued  progress  of  the  Reformation.  The  young 
prince  felt  himself  cast  into  shade  by  the  laurels  which 
his  rival,  Francis  I.,  had  gathered  at  Marignan.  Their 
rivalry  was  to  be  continued  in  Italy,  and  the  time  it 
would  occupy  would,  doubtless,  be  sufficient  to  strength- 
en and  confirm  the  Reformation.  Charles  quitted 
Spain  in  May,  1520,  and  was  crowned  on  the  22d  of 
October,  at  Aix-la-Chapelle. 

Luther  had  foreseen  that  the  cause  of  the  Reformation 
would,  ere  long,  have  to  be  pleaded  before  the  Emperor. 
He  wrote  to  Charles,  while  this  prince  was  still  at 
Madrid.  "  If  the  cause  which  I  defend,"  said  he  to 
him,  "  is  worthy  of  appearing  defore  the  throne  of  the 
Majesty  of  heaven,  it  is  surely  not  unworthy  of  engag- 
ing the  attention  of  a  prince  of  this  world.  0  Charles  ! 
thou  prince  among  the  kings  of  the  earth  !  I  throw 
myself  as  a  suppliant  a\  the  feet  of  your  Most  Serene 
Majesty,  and  conjure  you  to  deign  to  receive,  under  the 
shadow  of  your  wings,  not  me,  but  the  very  cause  of 
that  eternal  truth,  for  the  defence  of  which  God  has 
intrusted  you  with  the  sword. "^  The  young  king  of 
Spain  treated  this  strange  letter  from  a  German  monk 
with  neglect,  and  gave  no  answer. 

While  Luther  was  in  vain  turning  his  eyes  towards 
Madrid,  the  storm  seemed  to  increase  around  him.  The 
flame  of  fanaticism  was  kindled  in  Germany.  Hoch- 
straten,  never  weary  in  attempts  al  persecution,  had 
extracted  certain  theses  from  the  writings  of  Luther. 
The  universities  of  Cologne  and  of  Louvain  had,  at  his 
solicitation,  condemned  these  works.  That  of  Erfurth, 
still  retaining  an  angry  recollection  of  Luther's  prefer- 
ence of  Wittemberg,  was  about  to  follow  their  example ; 

*  L.  Opp.  (WV)  xxii.  1868. 
t  Is  vero  heroica  plane  m 
diavit.  (Pallavicini,  i.  79.) 
{L.Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  1880. 
§  Causam  ipsam  veritatis — (L  Epp.  i.  392,  Jan.  15, 15QO.) 


but  Luther,  on  learning  their  intention,  wrote  to  Lange 
in  such  strong  terms,  that  the  theologians  of  Erfurth 
were  alarmed  and  kept  silence.  The  condemnation, 
pronounced  at  Cologne  and  Louvain,  was  sufficient, 
however,  to  produce  great  excitement.  Add  to  this, 
that  the  priests  of  Meissen,  who  had  taken  part  with 
Emser  in  his  quarrel,  openly  declared  (according  to  the 
statement  of  Melancthon)  that  whosoever  should  kill 
Luther,  would  be  without  sin.*  "  The  time  is  come,1' 
says  Luther,  "  in  which  men  will  think  they  do  service 
to  Jesus  Christ  in  putting  us  to  death."  These  mur- 
derous suggestions,  as  might  have  been  expected,  pro- 
duced their  natural  results. 

While  Luther  was  walking  one  day  before  the  mon- 
astery of  the  Augustines,  says  one  of  his  biographers,  a 
stranger,  having  a  pistol  concealed  in  his  sleeve,  ap- 
proached, and  said  to  him :  "  Why  do  you  go  thus 
alone  1"  "  I  am  in  the  hands  of  God,"  anowered  Lu- 
ther ;  "  he  is  my  strength  and  shield.  What  can  man 
do  unto  me  ?"t  Hereupon,  adds  the  historian,  the 
stranger  turned  pale,  and  fled,  trembling.  Serra  Longa, 
the  orator  of  the  conference  of  Augsburg,  wrote  about 
the  same  time  to  the  Elector :  "  Let  not  Luther  find 
an  asylum  in  your  Highness's  territories  ;  let  him  be 
everywhere  driven  and  stoned  in  open  day  :  that  will 
rejoice  me  more  than  if  you  were  to  give  me  10,  000 
crowns. "J 

It  was,  however,  on  the  side  of  Rome  that  the  storm 
was  chiefly  gathering.  A  nobleman  of  Thuringia,  Val- 
entin Teutleben,  vicar  of  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  and 
a  zealous  partisan  of  the  Papacy,  was  the  representative 
of  the  Elector  of  Saxony  at  Rome.  Teutleben,  scan- 
dalised at  the  protection  which  his  master  granted  to 
the  heretical  monk,  saw  with  vexation  and  impatience 
his  mission  paralysed  by  this,  as  he  thought,  imprudent 
conduct.  He  imagined,  that  by  alarming  the  Elector 
he  should  induce  him  to  abandon  the  rebellious  theo- 
logian. "  I  can  get  no  hearing,"  wrote  he,  "  on  ac- 
count of  the  protection  which  you  grant  to  Luther." 
But  the  Romanists  were  deceived,  if  they  thought  to 
intimidate  the  prudent  Frederic.  This  prince  knew 
that  the  will  9f  God  and  the  voice  of  the  people  were 
more  irresistible  than  decrees  of  the  papal  court.  He 
directed  his  ambassador  to  intimate  to  the  Pope,  that, 
far  from  defending  Luther,  he  had  always  left,  him  to 
defend  himself ;  that  he  had  already  requested  him  to 
quit  the  university,  and  even  Saxony ;  that  the  doctor 
had  declared  himself  ready  to  obey,  and  would  not  have 
been  then  in  the  electoral  states,  had  not  the  Legate 
himself,  Charles  Miltitz,  begged  the  prince  to  keep  him 
near  his  own  person,  lest,  repairing  to  other  countries, 
Luther  should  act  with  more  liberty  than  in  Saxony 
itself.  §  Frederic  did  still  more  :  he  wished  to  open  the 
eyes  of  Rome.  "  Germany,"  continued  he,  in  his 
letter,  "  possesses  a  great  number  of  learned  men,  well 
acffuainted  with  languages  and  sciences ;  the  laity  them- 
selves are  begining  to  be  enlightened,  and  to  be  fond 
of  the  sacred  writtings  ;  and  if  the  reasonable  terms  of 
Dr.  Luther  are  refused,  it  is  much  to  be  feared  that 
peace  will  never  be  re-established.  The  doctrine  of 
Luther  has  taken  deep  root  in  many  hearts.  If,  instead 
of  refuting  it  by  the  testimony  of  the  Bible,  attempts 
are  made  to  crush  it  by  the  thunders  of  the  Church, 
great  offence  will  be  occasioned,  and  terrible  and  dan- 
gerous rebellions  will  be  excited.  II 

*  Ut  sine  peccato  esse  cum  censebant  qui  me  interfecerit. 
(L.  Epp.  i.  383.) 
f  Wass  kann  mir  em  Mensch  thun  ?     (Keith,  L  Umstande, 

J  Tenzel  Hist.  Ber.  ii.  163. 

^  Da  er  viel  freyer  und  sicherer  schreiben  und  handela 
mochte  was  er  wollte.  .  . .  (L.  Opp,  (L.)  i.  298.) 

||  Schreckliche,  grausame,  schadliche  und  verderbliche 
Emporungtnerregen.  (Ibid.) 


136     LUTHER'S  FEELINGS— MELANCTHON'S  ALARM— LUTHER'S  CONFIDENCE. 


The  Elector  placing  confidence  in  Luther,  causec 
the  letter  of  Teutleben,  as  well  as  another  which  he 
had  received  from  the  Cardinal,  St.  George,  to  be  com 
municated  to  him.  The  Reformer  was  much  movet 
on  reading  them.  He  saw  at  once  all  the  dangers  tha 
surrounded  him,  and  his  mind  was  for  an  instant  over 
whelmed,  But  it  was  at  such  moments  that  his  faith 
broke  forth,  and  manifested  itself  in  all  its  strength 
Often  weak  and  ready  to  fall  into  despondency,  he  was 
seen  to  rise  and  appear  greater  in  the  midst  of  the 
storm.  He  would  gladly  have  been  delivered  from  so 
many  trials,  but  he  knew  well  at  what  price  peace  was 
offered  to  him,  and  he  indignantly  rejected  it.  "  Hole 
my  peace  !"  said  he  ;  "I  am  willing  to  do  so,  if  they 
will  permit  me,  that  is  to  say,  if  they  will  silence  others 
If  any  one  envies  me  my  appointments,  let  him  take 
them  ;  if  any  one  desires  the  destruction  of  my  writ- 
ings, let  him  burn  them.  I  am  ready  to  keep  silence, 
provided  it  be  not  required  that  evangelical  truth  should 
stand  still.*  I  ask  for  no  cardinal's  hat,  nor  gold,  nor 
anything  else  that  Rome  values.  I  will  make  any  sa- 
crifices ;  so  that  the  way  of  salvation  is  left  open  to 
Christians.!  All  their  threats  do  not  terrify  me,  all 
their  promises  cannot  eeduce  me." 

Warmed  by  these  feelings,  Luther  soon  recovered 
his  disposition  for  action,  and  chose  the  Christian's 
conflict  rather  than  the  calm  of  the  recluse.  One  night 
sufficed  to  reproduce  in  his  mind  the  desire  to  overthrow 
the  power  of  Rome.  "  My  resolution  is  taken,"  he 
wrote  next  morning :  "  I  despise  alike  the  rage  and 
the  favour  of  Rome.  Away  with  reconciliation  !  I 
desire  never  more  to  have  any  communication  with 
her.t  Let  her  condemn — let  her  burn  my  writings  ! 
In  my  turn,  I  will  condemn  and  publicly  burn  the  canon 
law,  the  nest  of  all  heresies.  My  moderation  hitherto 
has  been  useless  ;  and  I  renonunce  it !" 

His  friends  were  very  far  from  being  so  confident. 
The  consternation  was  great  at  Wittemberg.  "  Our 
expectation  is  on  the  stretch,"  said  Melancthon.  "  I 
would  rather  die  than  be  separated  from  Luther.<J  If 
God  does  not  send  us  help  we  perish."  "  Our  Luther 
is  still  aJive,"  wrote  he  a  month  afterward  in  his  anxi- 
ety ;  "  God  grant  that  he  may  yet  live  long  !  for  the 
Romish  sycophants  leave  no  stone  unturned  for  his  de- 
struction. Pray  for  the  preservation  of  the  intrepid 
vindicator  of  sacred  learning."!! 

These  prayers  were  heard.  The  warnings  which 
the  Elector  had  addressed  to  Rome  through  the  medium 
of  his  representative  were  not  without  foundation.  The 
preaching  of  Luther  had  resounded  far  and  wide  ;  in 
cottages,  in  convents,  in  the  houses  of  the  citizens,  in 
the  castles  of  the  nobles,  in  the  academies,  and  in  the 
palaces  of  kings.  "  Let  my  life,"  he  said  to  Duke 
John,  of  Saxony,  "  be  found  to  bear  fruit  only  in  Ihe 
conversion  of  one  man,  and  I  shall  willingly  consent 
that  all  my  books  should  perish."f  It  was  not  a  single 
individual,  it  was  a  great  multitude,  that  had  discover- 
ed light  in  the  writings  of  the  humble  doctor.  Ac- 
cordingly, everywhere,  men  were  found  ready  to  pro- 
tect him.  The  sword,  intended  for  his  destruction, 
was  being  forged  in  the  Vatican  ;  but  heroes  were 
arising  in  Germany  who  would  defend  him  at  hazard 
of  their  own  lives.  At  the  moment  when  the  bishops 
were  chafing  with  anger,  when  the  princes  kept  silence, 

*  Semper  quiescere  paratus,  modo  veritatem  evangelicam 
nmijubeantquiescere.  (L.  Epp.  1.462) 

t  Si  salutia  viam  Christianis  permittant  esse  liberam,  hoc 
unum  peto  ab  illis,  ac  praatereanihil.  (Ibid.) 

\  Nolo  eis  reconciliari  nee  communicare  in  perpetum 
(ll»id  466.  July  10th,  1520.) 

§  Emori  mallim,  quam  ab  hoc  viro  avelli.  (Corpus  Reform 
i.  160,  163.) 

i|  Martinus  noster  spiral,  atque  utinam  diu  . .  .  (Ibid.  190, 
208.) 

V  L.  Opp.  (L  )  xvii.  392 


when  the  people  were  in  expectation,  and  the  thunders 
were  already  rolling  above  the  seven  hills,  God  stirred 
up  the  German  nobility  to  form  a  bulwark  for  his 
servant. 

Sylvester  of  Schaumburg,  one  of  the  most  powerful 
knights  of  Franconia,  at  this  juncture  sent  his  son  to 
Wittemberg,  with  a  letter  for  the  Reformer.  "  Your 
life  is  in  danger,"  wrote  Schaumburg.  "  If  the  assis- 
tance of  the  electors,  of  the  princes,  or  of  the  magis- 
trates should  fail  you,  beware,  I  entreat  you,  of  seeking 
refuge  in  Bohemia,  where  learned  men"  have  formerly 
had  so  much  to  endure  ;  come  lather  to  me.  I  shall 
soon,  God  willing,  have  collected  above  a  hundred 
gentlemen,  and  with  their  help  I  shall  be  able  to  pre- 
serve you  from  all  peril."* 

Francis  of  Sickingen,  that  hero  of  his  age,  whose 
intrepid  courage  we  have  already  seen.t  loved  the  Re- 
former, both  because  he  thought  him  worthy  to  be 
loved,  and  also  because  he  was  hated  by  the  monks.  J 
"  My  services,  my  possessions,  and  my  person,  in  short 
every  thing  which  I  have,"  he  wrote,  "  is  at  your  dis- 
posal. You  are  resolved  to  stand  up  for  the  truth  of 
the  Gospel.  I  am  ready  to  lend  my  aid  in  that  work."§ 
Harmuth  of  Cronberg  held  the  same  language.  Lastly, 
Ulric  of  Hu'tten,  the  poet  and  valiant  knight  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  took  every  oscasion  to  speak  out  in 
favour  of  Luther.  But  what  a  contrast  between  these 
two  men !  Hiitten  wrote  to  the  Reformer :  "  We  want 
swords,  bows,  javelins,  and  bombs,  in  order  to  repel 
the  fury  of  the  devil."  Luther,  on  receiving  these 
letters,  exclaimed,  "  I  will  not  resort  to  arms  and  blood- 
shed for  the  defence  of  the  Gospel.  It  is  by  the 
preaching  of  the  Word  that  the  world  has  been  con- 
quered ;  by  the  Word  the  Church  has  been  saved  ; 
by  the  Word,  also,  it  will  be  restored."  "  I  do  not 
despise  his  offer,"  said  he  again,  on  receiving  the  letter 
of  Schaumburg  which  we  have  mentioned,  "  but  I  will 
depend  on  none  but  Christ  alone."!!  Not  thus  had 
the  Roman  Pontiffs  spoken,  when  they  waded  in  the 
blood  of  the  Waldenses  and  Albigenses.  Hiitten  was 
conscious  of  the  difference  between  Luther's  object 
and  his  own  ;  and  accordingly  wrote  thus  nobly  to  him 
on  the  subject :  "  My  thoughts  are  running  on  earthly 
aims,  while  you,  contemning  such  things,  are  devoted 
to  the  things  of  God  alone  ;"f  andforwith  he  set  out 
to  endeavour,  if  possible,  to  gain  over  to  the  cause  of 
truth  Ferdinand  and  Charles  V.** 

Thus  at  one  moment  the  enemies  of  Luther  over- 
whelm him,  and  at  another  his  friends  arise  in  his 
defence.  "  My  bark,"  says  he,  "  is  driven  at  the 
mercy  of  the  winds — fear  and  hope  alternately  prevail  ; 
Dut  what  does  it  signify  ?"f  t  Nevertheless,  the  testi- 
monies of  sympathy  which  he  received  were  not  with- 
out their  effect  upon  hi?  mind.  "  The  Lord  reigns," 
le  said  ;  "  I  see  His  hand  palpably  present. "ft  Luther 
elt  that  he  no  longer  stood  alone  ;  his  words  had  borne 
fruit — and  this  thought  inspired  him  with  fresh  cou- 
rage. The  fear  of  compromising  the  interest  of  the 
Elector  could  no  longer  keep  him  in  check,  now  that 
le  felt  that  he  had  other  defenders  prepared  to  brave 
he  anger  of  Rome.  He  became  consequently  more 
ree,  and,  if  possible,  more  resolute.  This  is  an  im- 

*  Denn  Ich,  und  hundert  von  Adel,  die  Ich  (ob  Oott  will; 
aufbringen  will,  euch  redlich  anhalten  .  .  .  (Ibid.  381.) 

t"  Equitum  Germanise  rarum  decus,"  says  Melancthon  on 
he  occasion.     (Corp.  Reform,  i  201.) 
t  Et  ob  id  iuvisus  illis.     (Ibid.  132.)  $  Ibid. 

||  Nolo  nisi  Christo  protectare  niti.     (L.  Epp.  i.  148.) 
1T  Mea  humana  sunt :  tu  perfectior,  jam  totus  ex  divinis 
endes.     (L.  Opp.  lat.  ii.  175.) 

**  Viam  lacturus  libertati  (co-L  Bavar.  veritati)  per  maxi- 
mos  principes.     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  201.) 

ft  Ita  fluctuat  nnvis  mea  ;  nunc  spes,  nunc  timor  regnal- 
L.  Epp.  i.  443.) 
ft  Dominus  regnat,  ut  palpare  possimu.     (Ibid.  451.) 


THE  AUTHOR  OF  FAITH— ATTACK  ON  THE  PAPACY. 


137 


portant  epoch  in  the  development  of  Luther's  charac- 
ter. "  It  is  right  that  Rome  should  understand," 
wrote  he,  at  this  time,  to  the  chaplain  of  the  Elector, 
"  that  although  she  should  succeed  in  obtaining  by  her 
threats  my  expulsion  from  Wittemberg,  she  would 
only  injure  her  own  cause.  Not  in  Bohemia,  but  in 
the  heart  of  Germany,  are  those  who  are  ready  to  de 
fend  me  against  the  thunders  of  Papacy.  If  I  have 
not  yet  brought  to  bear  upon  my  adversaries  all  that  I 
am  preparing  for  them,  it  is  neither  to  my  moderation 
nor  to  the  weight  of  their  tyranny  that  they  are  to  at- 
tribute my  forebearance,  but  to  the  name  of  the  Elector, 
and  the  interest  of  the  University  of  Witternberg, 
which  I  feared  to  compromise  ;  now  that  such  fears  are 
dissipated  I  am  about  to  re-double  my  efforts  against 
Kome  and  her  courtiers."* 

Yet  it  was  not  so  much  on  the  great  the  Reformer  re- 
lied. He  had  been  often  urged  to  dedicate  one  of  his 
books  to  Duke  John,  brother  of  the  elector,  but  had 
abstained  from  doing  so.  "  I  fear,"  he  had  said,  "  lest 
this  suggestion  may  proceed  from  himself.  Tne  Holy 
Scriptures  ought  not  to  minister  to  the  glory  of  any 
other  name  but  that  of  God."t  Luther  now  shook  off 
these  fears,  and  dedicated  to  Duke  John  his  discourse 
on  Good  Works.  Of  all  his  writings,  this  is  one  in 
which  the  Reformer  most  powerfully  opens  the  doc- 
trine of  justification  by  faith,  that  great  truth,  whose 
power  he  estimates  far  above  the  sword  of  Hiitten,  the 
armed  bands  of  Sickingen,  or  the  favour  of  dukes  or 
electors. 

"  The  first,  the  noblest,  and  the  greatest  of  all  works," 
says  he,  is  faith  in  Jesus  Christ. £  From  this  work, 
all  others  must  flow.  They  are  all  but  the  vassals  of 
faith,  and  receive  from  it  alone  all  their  efficacy." 

"  If  a  man  but  feel  in  his  heart  the  assurance  that 
what  he  does  is  acceptable  to  God,  his  action  is  good, 
though  he  should  but  raise  a  straw  from  the  earth  ;  but 
if  he  has  not  this  confidence,  his  action  is  not  a  good 
work,  even  though  he  should  raise  the  dead  to  life.  A 
Heathen,  a  Jew,  a  Turk,  a  sinner,  may  do  all  other 
works  ;  but  to  put  one's  trust  in  God,  and  have  assur- 
ance that  we  are  accepted  by  him,  is  what  none  but 
the  Christian  standing  in  grace  is  capable  of  doing." 
"  A  Christian,  who  has  faith  in  God,  does  all.  with 
liberty  and  joy :  while  that  man,  who  is  not  at  one  with 
God,  is  full  of  cares,  and  under  bondage  ;  he  enquires 
anxiously  what  amount  of  good  works  is  required  of 
him  ;  he  turns  to  ask  of  this  man  or  another,  finding 
no  rest  for  his  soul,  and  doing  everything  with  fear  and 
dissatisfaction." 

"  Therefore  it  is  that  I  have  ever  held  up  the  neces- 
sity of  Faith.  But,  in  the  world  around  me,  it  is 
otherwise.  There  the  essential  thing  is  represented 
to  be  the  having  many  works,  works  of  high  fame,  and 
of  all  degrees,  without  regarding  whether  they  are  done 
in  faith.  Thus  they  build  up  their  peace,  not  on  the 
good  pleasure  of  God,  but  on  their  own  merits,  or  in 
other  words,  on  the  sand."$  (Matt.  vii.  26.) 

"  It  is  said  that  to  preach  faith,  is  to  discourage  good 
works ;  but  though  a  man  shonld  have  in  himself  the 
combined  strength  of  all  his  race,  or  even  of  all  created 
beings,  this  one  duty  of  the  life  of  faith  would  be  a 
task  too  great  to  be  ever  performed.  If  I  say  to  a  sick 
man  :  '  resume  your  health,  and  you  will  have  the  use 
of  your  limbs,'  can  it  be  said  that  I  forbid  him  to  use 
his  limbs  \  Must  not  health  precede  labour  ?  It  is 

*  Ssevius  in  Romanenses  grassaturus (L  Epp.  i.  465.) 

t  Scriptarum  sacram  nolim  alicujus  nomini  nisi  Dei  ser- 
vire.  (Ib.  431.) 

I  Das  erste  und  hochste,  alleredelste— gute  Werck  ist  der 
Glaube  in  Christum.  .  .  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  394.) 

§  Wenn  ein  Mensch  tausend,  oder  alleMeascher  oder  alle 
Creaturen  ware.  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  368  ) 

s 


the  same  when  we  preach  faith :  faith  must  go  before 
works,  in  order  to  good  works." 

"  Where,  then,  you  will  say,  is  this  faith  to  be  found, 
and  how  is  it  to  be  received  !  Truly,  this  is  what  most 
concerns  us  to  know.  Faith  comes  from  Jesus  Christ 
alone,  promised  and  given  freely." 

"  O  man  !  consider  Christ,  and  see  in  him  how  God 
displays  his  mercy  toward  thee,  without  any  worthiness 
of  thine  going  before.*  Draw  from  this  discovery  of 
His  grace,  the  belief  and  assurance  that  all  thy  sins  are 
forgiven  thee.  Works  never  could  produce  this  faith. 
It  flows  in  the  blood — from  the  wounds  and  death  of 
Christ.  It  springs  up,  from  that  source,  to  rejoice  our 
hearts.  Christ  is  the  rock  whence  flow  our  milk  and 
honey."  (Deut.  xxxii.) 

Not  being  able  to  notice  all  the  works  of  Luther, 
we  here  quote  some  short  extracts  from  this  discourse 
on  Good  Works,  on  account  of  the  Reformer's  own 
opinion  of  it.  "  In  my  opinion,"  said  he,  "  it  is  the 
best  of  my  published  writings,"  and  he  immediately 
adds  this  deep  reflection :  «'  but  I  know  that  when  I 
please  myself  with  what  I  write,  the  infection  of  that 
bad  leaven  hinders  it  from  pleasing  others."t  Melanc- 
thon,  in  transmitting  this  discourse  to  a  friend,  accom- 
panied it  with  these  words  :  "  No  one  among  all  the 
Greek  and  Latin  writers  has  come  nearer  to  the  spirit 
of  St.  Paul  than  Luther."* 

But  beside  the  substitution  of  a  scheme  of  merits 
in  place  of  the  grand  truth  of  grace  and  amnesty,  ano- 
ther evil  had  grown  up  in  the  Church.^  A  haughty- 
power  had  arisen  in  the  midst  of  the  humble  shepherds 
of  Christ's  flock.  Luther  resolved  to  attack  this  usurped 
authority.  In  the  rnidst  of  all  his  troubles,  he  had  pri- 
vately studied  the  rise,  progress,  and  usurpations,  of 
the  Papacy.  The  discoveries  he  had  made  had  filled 
him  with  amazement.  He  no  longer  hesitated  to  make 
them  known,  and  to  strike  the  blow  which,  like  the  rod 
of  Moses  in  old  lime,  was  to  awaken  a  people  that  had 
long  slumbered  in  bondage.  Even  before  Rome  could 
find  time  to  publish  her  formidable  bull,  he  himself 
hurled  against  her  a  declaration  of  war.  "  The  '  time 
to  be  silent'  is  past,"  he  exclaims  :  "  the  '  time  to  speak* 
is  arrived."  On  the  23d  of  June,  1520,  he  published 
the  celebrated  Appeal  to  his  Imperial  Majesty,  and  the 
Christian  nobility  of  the  German  nation,  concerning 
the  Reformation  of  Christianity .)! 

"It  is  not  rashly  and  without  consideration,"  said 
he,  in  the  commencement  of  this  appeal,  "  that  I,  a 
man  of  the  common  people,  take  upon  myself  to  ad- 
dress your  highnesses.  The  misery  and  oppression 
which  at  this  hour  weigh  down  all  Christian  states,  and 
more  especially  Germany,  wring  from  me  a  cry  of  dis- 
tress. I  rind  myself  compelled  to  call  for  help  ;  I  must 
see  if  God  will  not  give  his  Spirit  to  some  one  or  other 
of  our  countrymen,  and  thus  stretch  forth  his  hand  to 
save  our  wretched  nation.  God  has  placed  over  us  a 
young  and  generous  prince,  the  Emperor  Charles  V.,H 
and  has  thus  filled  our  hearts  witn  high  hopes.  But 
we  ourselves  must,  on  our  parts,  do  all  that  is  possible 
for  us  to  do. 

'  Now,  it  is  of  the  rery  first  necessity,  that  we  do 
not  at  all  rely  upon  our  own  strength,  or  our  own  wis- 
dom. If  we  begin  even  a  good  work  with  confidence 

Siehe,  also  musst  du  Christum  in  dich  bilden,  und  sehen 
i  in  Him  Gott — seine  Barmherzigkeit  dir  furhalt  und  ar- 
beut.  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  398.) 

t  Erit,  meo  judicio,  omnium  quae  ediderim  optimum  :  quan- 
quam  scio  quae  mini  mea  placent,  hoc  ipso  fermento  infects, 
non  solera  aliis  placere.  (L.  Epp.  i.  431.) 

\  Quo  ad  Pauli  spiritum  nemo  propius  accessit.  (Corp.  Re£ 
.  202 ) 

§  Vol.  I.  p.  2,  &c. 

||  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  447  to  502. 

IT  Gott  hat  uns  ein  junges  edles  Biut  zum  Haupt  gegeben. 
(Ibid.  457.) 


138 


THE  THREE  BARRIERS— ALL  CHRISTIANS  ARE  PRIESTS 


in  ourselves,  God  overturns  and  destroys  it.  Frederic 
I.,  Frederic  II.,  and  many  other  emperors  beside,  be- 
fore whom  the  world  stood  in  awe,  have  been  trampled 
under  foot  by  the  popes,  because  they  trusted  in  their 
own  strength  rather  than  in  God.  Therefore  they  could 
not  succeed.  It  is  against  the  power  of  hell  that  we 
have  to  contend  in  this  struggle.  We  must  set  about 
the  work,  hoping  nothing  from  the  strength  of  our  own 
arms,  and  depending  humbly  on  the  Lord ;  looking 
to  the  present  distress  of  Christians,  instead  of  dwelling 
on  the  acts  of  evil  doers.  Take  but  another  course, 
and  though  the  work  may  seem  to  prosper  for  a  while, 
all  of  a  sudden,  in  the  very  height  of  the  struggle,  con- 
fusion will  come  in,  evil  men  will  cause  boundless  dis- 
asters, and  the  world  will  be  deluged  with  blood.  The 
greater  our  power,  the  greater  our  danger  if  we  walk 
juot  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord." 

After  this  exordium,  Luther  continued  as  follows : 
The  Romanists  have  raised  three  barriers  against  all 
reformation.  When  the  temporal  power  has  attacked 
them,  they  have  denied  its  authority,  and  asserted  that 
the  spiritual  power  was  superior  to  it.  When  any  one 
rebuked  them  out  of  the  Scripture,  they  have  answered 
that  no  one,  but  the  pope,  was  able  to  interpret  Scrip- 
ture. When  they  have  been  threatened  with  a  coun- 
cil, the  reply  has  been,  no  one,  but  the  Sovereign  Pon- 
tiff, has  authority  to  convoke  a  council." 

"  They  have  thus  wrested  from  our  hands  the  three 
rods  destined  to  correct  them,  and  have  given  the  rein 
to  all  evil.  But  now,  God  help  us,  and  give  us  one 
of  those  trumpets  which  overthrew  the  walls  of  Jericho ! 
With  the  breath  of  our  lips,  let  us  throw  down  the  pa- 
per walls  which  the  Romanists  have  built  around  them, 
and  lift  up  the  scourges  which  punish  the  wicked,  by 
exposing  the  wiles  and  stratagems  of  the  devil.' 

Luther  then  begins  the  assault.  He  shakes,  to  its 
very  foundation,  that  papal  monarchy  which  had  for 
centuries  past  banded  together  the  nations  of  the  west 
Tinder  the  sceptre  of  the  Roman  bishop.  That  there 
is  no  such  thing  as  a  priestly  caste,  is  the  truth,  hidden 
from  the  church  even  from  its  first  ages,  which  he 
powerfully  sets  forth  at  the  outset : 

"  It  has  been  said,  that  the  pope,  the  bishops,  the 
priests,  and  those  who  dwell  in  the  convents,  form  the 
spiritual,  or  ecclesiastical,  state  ;  and  that  the  princes, 
nobles,  citizens,  and  peasants,  form  the  secular  state, 
or  laity.  This  is  a  fine  story,  truly.  Let  no  one, 
however,  be  alarmed  by  it.  All  Christians  belong  to 
the  spiritual  state  ;  and  there  is  no  other  difference 
between  them,  than  that  of  the  functions  which  they 
discharge.  We  have  all  one  baptism,  one  faith,  and  it 
is  this  which  constitutes  the  spiritual  man.  The  unc- 
tion, the  tonsure,  ordination,  consecration  by  the  bishop, 
or  the  pope,  may  make  an  hypocrite,  but  never  a  spi- 
ritual man.  We  are  all  alike  consecrated  priests  by 
baptism,  as  St.  Peter  says  :  '  Ye  are  priests  and  kings  ;' 
although  it  does  not  belong  to  all  to  exercise  such 
offices,  for  none  can  take  to  himself  that  which  is  com- 
mon to  all,  without  the  consent  of  the  community 
But  if  we  were  without  this  consecration  from  God, 
the  Pope's  unction  could  never  constitute  a  priest.  If 
a  king  had  ten  sons  of  equal  claim  to  the  inheritance, 
and  they  should  choose  one  of  their  number  to  act  for 
them,  they  would  all  be  kings,  though  only  one  of  them 
•would  administer  their  common  power.  The  case  is 
the  same  with  the  church.  If  any  pious  laymen  were 
banished  to  a  desert,  and,  having  no  regularly  conse 
crated  priest  among  them,  were  to  agree  to  choose  fo 
that  office  one  of  their  number,  married  or  unmarried 
this  man  would  be  as  truly  a  priest  as  if  he  had  been 
consecrated  by  all  the  bishops  in  the  world.  Augus- 
tine, Ambrose,  and  Cyprian,  were  chosen  in  this  man 
Her. 


"  Hence  it  follows  that  laity  and  priests,  princes  and 
ishops,  or,  as  they  say,  the  clergy  and  the  laity,  have 
n  reality  nothing  to  distinguish  them,  but  their  func- 
ions.  They  all  belong  to  the  same  estate ;  but  all 
lave  not  the  same  work  to  perform. 

"  If  this  be  true,  why  should  not  the  magistrate  chas- 
ise  the  clergy  1  the  secular  power  has  been  ordained 
>y  God  for  the  punishment  of  evil-doers,  and  the 
>raise  of  those  who  do  well.  And  free  sdope  should 
>e  allowed  for  it  to  act  throughout  Christendom  ;  let 
t  touch  whom  it  may,  pope,  bishops,  priests,  monks, 
.uns,  or  any  others.  St.  Paul  says  to  all  Christians  : 
Let  every  soul*  (consequently  the  Pope  also,)  be  sub- 
ject to  the  higher  powers,  for  they  bear  not  the  sword 
n  vain." 

Having  in  like  manner  overturned  "  the  other  bar- 
riers," Luther  passed  in  review  the  corruptions  of 
ilome.  He  displayed,  in  a  populur  style  of  eloquence, 
;he  evils  that  had  been  felt  and  acknowledged  for  cen- 
;uries.  Never  had  a  more  noble  protest  been  heard. 
The  great  assembly  before  whom  Luther  spoke,  was 
he  church  ;  the  power  whose  corruptions  he  attacked, 
was  that  papal  power  which  had  for  ages  weighed 
icavily  upon  all  nations  ;  and  the  Reformation  he  so 
oudly  called  for,  was  destined  to  exert  its  powerful 
nfluence  orer  all  Christian  nations  throughout  the 
world,  and  to  last  as  long  as  man  shall  exist  upon  the 
earth. 

He  commenced  with  the  Pope.     "  It  is  monstrous," 

says,  "  to  see  him  who  is  called  the  vicar  of  Christ, 
displaying  a  magnificence  unrivalled  by  that  of  any 
emperor.  Is  this  to  resemble  the  poor  and  lowly  JE- 
SUS, or  the  humble  St.  Peter  1  The  Pope,  say  they, 
is  the  lord  of  the  world  !  But  Christ,  whose  vicar  he 
boasts  himself  to  be,  said  :  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this 
world.  Ought  the  power  of  the  vicar  to  go  beyond 
that  of  his  Lord1?" 

Luther  next  proceeded  to  describe  the  effects  of 
papal  sway.  "  Do  you  know  what  end  the  Cardinals 
serve  1  I  will  tell  you.  Italy  and  Germany  have  many 
convents,  religious  foundations,  and  benefices,  richly 
endowed.  By  what  machinery  can  this  wealth  be 
drawn  to  Romel — Cardinals  have  been  created;  to 
them  these  cloisters  and  prelacies  have  been  given  ; 
and,  at  this  moment,  Italy  is  almost  deserted,  the  con- 
vents are  destroyed,  the  bishoprics  devoured,  the 
towns  falling  to  decay,  the  inhabitants  demoralized, 
religious  worship  expiring,  and  preaching  abolished  ! 
And  why  is  all  this  1  Because,  forsooth,  all  the  wealth 
of  the  churches  must  go  to  Rome.  The  Turk  him- 
self would  never  have  so  ruined  Italy." 

Luther  then  turned  to  his  native  country. 

"  And  now  that  they  have  sucked  the  blood  of  their 
own  nation,  they  come  to  Germany  ;  they  begin  softly  ; 
but  let  us  be  on  our  guard  !  or  Germany  will  soon  be 
like  Italy.  We  have  already  some  cardinals  here  and 
there.  Before  the  dull-minded  Germans  comprehend 
our  design,  think  they,  they  will  have  neither  bishop- 
ric, convent,  benefice,  nor  so  much  as  one  penny  left. 
Antichrist  must  possess  the  treasure  of  the  earth. 
Thirty  or  forty  cardinals  will  be  created  in  a  day  : 
to  one  will  be  given  Bamberg,  to  another,  the  bishop- 
ric of  Wurzbug  ;  to  these  will  be  attached  rich  be- 
nefices, until  the  churches  and  the  cities  are  left  deso- 
late. And  then  the  Pope  will  say  :  I  am  the  vicar  of 
Christ,  and  shepherd  of  his  flocks.  Let  the  Germans 
submit  to  my  authority  !" 

The  indignation  of  Luther  kindled  as  he  proceeded. 

"  What !  shall  we  Germans  endure  these  robberies 

and  extortions  of  the  Pope  ?     If  the  kingdom  of  France 

has  been  able  to  defend  itself  from  them,  why  should 

we  suffer  ourselves  to  be  thus  ridiculed  and  laughed 

*  Ilaffa  tyvxrt.    Rom.  xii.  1,  4. 


CALL  FOR  REFORM— MARRIAGE  OF  PRIESTS— THE  BOHEMIANS. 


139 


at  1  And  oh !  would  that  they  robbed  us  only  of  ou 
goods  :  but  they  also  lay  waste  the  churches :  the) 
fleece  the  sheep  of  Christ,  abolish  the  worship,  am 
silence  the  word  of  God." 

Luther  exposed  the  "Romish  practice"  of  gradually 
abstracting  the  wealth  and  the  revenues  of  Germany 
Annats,  palls,  commendams,  administrations,  expectivt 
graces,  reversions,  incorporations,  reserves,  &c.,  al 
pass  before  him  ;  4<  let  us,"  says  he,  '•  endeavour  tc 
put  a  stop  to  so  much  wretchedness  and  desolation 
If  we  want  to  march  against  the  Turks,  let  us  begin 
with  those  Turks  who  are  the  worst  of  all.  If  we 
hang  thieves,  and  cut  off  the  heads  of  brigands,  let  u 
not  suffer  the  avarice  of  Rome  to  escape,  which  is  the 
greatest  of  all  robbers  and  thieves  ;  and  that,  too,  in 
the  name  of  St.  Peter,  and  of  Jesus  Christ !  Who  can 
tolerate  this !  Who  can  keep  silence  1  Has  not 
that  the  Pope  possesses  been  obtained  by  robbery  1  for 
he  has  neither  purchased  it,  nor  inherited  it  from  St 
Peter,  nor  gained  il  by  his  labours.  Whence,  then, 
does  it  all  come  1" 

The  Reformer  proposes  remedies  for  all  these  evils. 
He  calls  energetically  upon  the  German  nobility,  to 
put  an  end  to  these  depredations  on  the  part  of  Rome. 
Coming  then  to  the  Pope  himself,  "  Is  it  not  ridicu- 
lous," he  exclaimed.  "  that  the  Pope  should  pretend 
to  be  the  lawful  heir  of  the  empire !  who  gave  it  to 
him  1  Was  it  Christ,  when  he  said  :  '  The  kings  of 
the  Gentiles  exercise  lordship  over  them  ;  but  it  shall 
not  be  so  with  youT  (Luke  xxii.  25,  26.)  How  is 
it  possible  to  govern  an  empire,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  preach,  pray,  study,  arid  have  care  for  the  poor? 
Christ  forbade'  the  twelve  to  carry  with  them  either 
gold  or  two  coats,  because  the  duties  of  the  ministry 
cannot  be  discharged,  unless  there  is  a  freedom  from 
all  other  care  ;  and  the  Pope  would  at  the  same  time 
govern  the  empire,  and  remain  Pope  !" 

Luther  went  on  to  strip  the  pontiff  of  his  spoils : 
"  Let  the  Pope  renounce  all  pretensions  to  the  king- 
dom of  Naples  and  Sicily.  He  has  no  more  right  to 
it  than  I  have.  It  is  without  any  just  claim,  and  in- 
consistent with  the  directions  of  Christ,  that  he  holds 
possession  of  Bologna,  Imola,  Ravenna,  Romagna,  the 
Marches  of  Ancona,  &c.  '  No  man  that  warreth,'  says 
St.  Paul,  '  entangleth  himself  with  the  affairs  of  this 
life.''  (2  Tim.  ii.  4.)  And  the  Pope,  who  claims  to 
be  chief  of  the  church  militant,  entangles  himself  more 
with  the  things  of  this  life,  than  any  emperor  or  king. 
We  must  relieve  him  from  all  this  burden.  Let  the 
emperor  put  into  the  hands  of  the  Pope,  the  Bible  and 
mass-book,  in  order  that  his  holiness  may  leave  govern- 
ment for  kings,  and  keep  to  preaching  and  praying."* 
He  was  quite  as  earnest  against  the  Pope's  ecclesi- 
astical authority  in  Germany,  as  against  his  temporal 
power  in  Italy.  "  As  a  first  step,"  says  he,  "  it  behoves 
us  to  expel  from  all  the  German  States  the  Pope's  le- 
gates, and  the  pretended  benefits  which  they  sell  us  as 
tbeir  weight  in  gold,  and  which  are  mere  impostures. 
They  take  our  money,  and  for  what  1  for  legalizing 
ill-gotten  gains — for  dissolving  the  sacredness  of  oaths 
— for  teaching  us  to  break  faith — for  instructing  us  in 
sin,  and  leading  us  directly  to  hell.  Hear  this — O 
Pope  !  not  4  most  holy  ' — but  most  sinning  !  May 
God,  from  his  throne  on  high,  hurl  thy  throne  ere  long 
to  the  bottomless  pit !" 

The  Christian  tribune  proceeded.  Having  sum- 
moned the  Pope  to  his  bar,  he  cited  before  him  all  the 
corruptions  which  followed  in  the  train  of  the  papacy,  and 
began  to  sweep  from  the  floor  of  the  Church,  the  rubbish 
that  encumbered  it.  He  commenced  with  the  monks  : 
"  Now  then  I  come  to  that  slothful  crew  who  pro- 

*  Ihm  die  Biblien  und  Betbucher  dafdr  anzeigen— un  erd 
predige  und  bete.    (L.  Opp.  xvii.  472.) 


mise  much,  but  do  little,     Bear  with  me,  my  friends, 

I  mean  you  well ;  what  I  have  to  say  to  you  is  a  truth 
both  sweet  and   bitter — it  is  that  no  more  cloisters 
must  be  built  for  mendicant  friars.     God  knows  we 
have  enough  already,  and  would  to  heaven  they  were 
all  levelled  with  the  ground  !     Vagabonding  through 
a  country  never  has  done,  and  never  can  do,  good." 

The  marriage  of  ecclesiastics  comes  next.  It  was 
the  first  time  that  Luther  had  spoken  on  that  subject : 
"  To  what  a  condition  is  the  clergy  fallen,  and  how 
many  priests  do  we  find  burdened  with  women  and 
children,  and  their  bitter  remorse,  while  no  one  comes 
to  their  aid  !  It  may  suit  the  Pope  and  the  bishops  to 
let  things  go  on  as  they  list,  and  that  which  is  lost  con- 
tinue lost :  be  it  so.  But  for  my  part,  1  will  deliver 
my  conscience.  I  will  open  my  mouth  freely  :  let 
pope,  bishop,  or  who  ever  will,  take  offence  at  it !  I 
say  then,  that  according  to  the  appointment  of  Christ 
and  his  apostles,  every  town  should  have  a  pastor,  or 
bishop,  and  that  this  pastor  may  have  one  wife,  as  St. 
Paul  writes  to  Timothy  :  '  Let  the  bishop  be  the  hus- 
band of  one  wife,'  (Tim.  iii.  2,)  and  as  is  still  the  prac- 
tice in  the  Greek  church.  But  the  devil  has  persuaded 
;he  Pope,  as  St.  Paul  tells  Timothy  (1  Tim.  iv.  1—3,) 
to  forbid  '  the  clergy  '  to  marry.'  And  hence  miseries 
nnumerable.  What  is  to  be  done  ?  What  resource 
"or  so  many  pastors,  irreproachable  in  everything,  ex- 
cept, that  they  live  in  secret  commerce  with  a  woman 
to  whom  they  would,  with  all  their  heart,  be  joined  in 
wedlock  1  Ah !  let  them  set  their  consciences  at  rest ! 
et  them  take  this  woman  for  their  lawful  wife,  let  them 
ive  virtuously  with  her,  without  troubling  themselves 
whether  it  please  the  pope  or  not.  The  salvation  of 
he  soul  is  of  more  consequence  than  tyrannous  and 
arbitrary  laws,  which  come  not  from  the  Lord." 

It  is  in  this  way  that  the  Reformation  sought  to  re- 
tore  purity  of  morals  in  the  Church.     The  Reformer 
continued  : 

"  Let  festivals  be  abolished,  and  none  observed  but 
Sunday  :  or  if  it  is  wished  to  keep  the  great  Christian 
estivals,  let  them  be  celebrated  only  in  the  morning, 
and  the  rest  of  the  day  be  regarded  as  a  working-day. 
?or  since  people  do  nothing  on  feast-days  but  drink, 
>lay,  run  into  vice,  or  waste  their  time  in  idleness, 
here  is  much  more  offence  to  God  on  these  days  than 
on  others." 

He  then  turns  to  the  dedication  of  churches,  which 
le  designates  mere  taverns  ;  and  next  notices  the  cus- 
omary  fasts,  and  the  different  religious  fraternities — 
ie  insists  not  only  against  the  abuses  of  these  things,  but 
aims  to  put  an  end  to  schisms.  "  It  is  time,"  he  says, 
'  that  we  should  take  a  serious  interest  in  the  affair  of 
he  Bohemians  ;  that  we  should  lay  aside  hatred  and 
envy,  and  unite  with  them."  He  proposes  some  ex- 
rellent  measures  of  conciliation,  and  adds  :  "  It  is 
hus  that  we  ought  to  convince  heretics  by  Scripture, 
bllowing  in  this  the  example  of  the  early  fathers,  and 
not  exterminate  them  by  fire.  According  to  the  con 
rary  course,  the  executioners  would  be  the  best  teach- 
ers in  the  world.  Oh  !  would  to  God,  that  on  both 
ides  we  would  stretch  out  the  right  hand  of  brotherly 
lumility,  instead  of  erecting  ourselves  in  the  opinion 
if  our  strength  of  argument  and  right.  Charity 'is 
more  needed  than  the  Roman  Papacy.  I  have  done 

II  in  my  power.     If  the  Pope  and  his  adherents  offer 
pposition,  on  their  own  heads  must  rest  the  responsi- 
ility.     The   Pope  ought  to  be  willing  to  surrender 

everything — authority,  wealth,  and  honour — if  by  so 
loing  he  could  save  one  soul.  But  he  would  rather 
ee  the  whole  universe  perish,  than  yield  a  hair's- 
)readth  of  the  power  he  has  usurped  !  I  am  clear  of 
hese  things."* 
*  Nun  liess  er  ehe  del  Welt  untergehen  ehe  er  ein  Haar- 


140 


THE  EMPIRE— CONCLUSION— SUCCESS  OF  THE  APPEAL— ROME. 


After  this,  Luther  turns  to  the  universities  and 
schools  : 

"  I  fear  much,"  he  says,  "  that  the  universities  will 
be  found  to  be  great  gates  leading  down  to  hell,  unless 
they  take  diligent  care  to  explain  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
and  to  engrave  them  in  the  hearts  of  our  youth.  I 
would  not  advise  any  one  to  place  his  child  where  the 
Holy  Scriptures  are  not  regarded  as  the  rule  of  life. 
Every  institution,  where  God's  word  is  not  diligently 
studied,  must  become  corrupt.''*  Weighty  words  ! 
which  governments,  fathers,  and  the  learned  in  all 
ages,  would  do  well  to  consider. 

Toward  the  close  of  his  appeal,  he  reverts  to  the 
Empire  and  the  Emperor  : 

"  The  Pope,"  he  says,  "  not  being  able  to  manage 
the  ancient  masters  of  the  Roman  empire,  bethought 
himself  of  the  plan  of  appropriating  their  title  and  em- 
pire, and  then  giving  them  to  us  Germans.  Thus  it 
has  happened  that  we  have  become  vassals  of  the  Pope. 
The  Pope  took  possession  of  Rome,  extorting  from 
the  Emperor  an  oath  not  to  reside  there  ;  and  hence 
it  is  that  the  Emperor  is  Emperor  of  Rome,  without 
Rome  !  We  have  the  name  ;  the  Pope  the  country 
and  its  cities.  We  have  the  title  and  arms  of  the  Em- 
pire :  the  Pope  monopolizes  its  treasure,  power,  privi- 
leges, and  liberties.  He  devours  the  kernel,  and  we 
are  put  off  with  the  shell.  It  is  thus  that  the  pride 
and  tyranny  of  Rome  has  at  all  times  abused  our  sim- 
plicity." 

"  But  may  God,  who  has  given  us  such  an  empire, 
now  stand  by  us  !  Let  us  act  worthily  of  our  name, 
our  title,  and  our  arms ;  let  us  preserve  our  liberty  ! 
and  let  the  Romans  learn  what  it  is  that  God  has  given 
us  by  their  hands.  They  boast  of  having  given  us  an 
empire.  Well,  then,  let  us  take  it,  for  it  is  ours.  Let 
the  Pope  abandon  Rome,  and  all  he  holds  possession 
of  in  the  Empire.  Let  him  cease  his  taxes  and  extor- 
tions !  Let  him  restore  to  us  our  liberty,  our  power, 
our  property,  our  honour,  our  souls,  and  bodies  !  Let 
the  Empire  be  what  an  Empire  ought  to  be,  and  let 
the  sword  of  princes  no  longer  be  lowered  before  the 
hypocritical  pretensions  of  a  Pope  !" 

There  is  a  lofty  reason  in  these  words,  besides  their 
force  and  persuasion.  Did  ever,  before,  any  orator 
make  such  an  appeal  to  the  whole  nobility  of  the  em- 
pire, and  the  Emperor  himself!  Far  from  wondering 
that  so  many  of  the  German  States  separated  them- 
selves from  Rome,  ought  we  not  rather  to  be  aston- 
ished that  all  Germany  did  not  rise  en  masse  and  re- 
take from  Rome  that  imperial  power  which  the  Popes 
had  with  so  much  effrontery  usurped  1 

Luther  terminates  this  bold  harangue  with  these 
words : 

"  I  can  easily  believe  that  I  may  have  held  too  high 
a  tone,  that  I  may  have  proposed  many  things  which 
will  appear  impossible,  and  attacked  many  errors  with 
too  much  vehemence.  But  what  can  I  do  1  Let  the 
world  be  offended  rather  than  God  !  They  can  but 
take  my  life.  Again  and  again  I  have  offered  peace 
to  my  adversaries.  But  God  has,  by  their  own  instru- 
ments, compelled  me  continually  to  uplift  a  louder  and 
a  louder  voice  .against  them.  I  have  one  indictment 
in  reserve  against  Rome.  If  their  ears  itch  to  know 
what  it  is,  I  will  utter  it  aloud.  Dost  thou  not  know, 
O  Rome  !  dost  thou  not  know  well  what  I  mean  1  .  .  ." 

Allusion  is  probably  made  here  to  a  tract  on  Popery, 
which  Luther  intended  to  give  to  the  world,  but  which 
has  not  been  published.  The  prior,  Burkhard,  wrote 
at  the  time  to  Spenglar ;  "  There  is  also  a  little  book 
de  execrandavenere  Romanorum  ;  but  it  is  kept  back." 

breit  seiner  vermessenen  Gewalt  lisse  abbrechen.     (L.  Opp. 
(L.)  xvii.  483.) 

*  Ess  muss  verderben,  alles  waa  nicht  Gottes  Wort  ohn 
Untcrlass  treibt.  (Ibid.  486.) 


The  title  indicated  the  probability  that  it  would  afford 
great  occasion  of  scandal.  There  is  reason  to  rejoice 
that  Luther  had  the  moderation  not  to  publish  this  work, 

"  If  my  cause  is  just,"  continued  he,  "  it  will  be  its- 
lot  to  be  condemned  on  earth,  and  espoused  only  by 
Christ  in  heaven.  Let  them  come  on  then,  popes, 
bishops,  priests,  monks,  and  doctors  !  let  them  bring 
forth  all  their  zeal,  and  let  loose  all  their  rage  I  Verilyr 
it  is  their  part  to  persecute  the  truth,  as  every  age  has 
witnessed." 

But  where  did  this  monk  acquire  so  clear  a  percep- 
tion of  public  affairs,  which  the  States  of  the  Empire 
themselves  often  found  it  difficult  to  estimate  correctly  T 
What  could  embolden  this  obscure  German  to  stand 
up  in  the  midst  of  his  own  long-enslaved  nation,  and 
to  strike  such  mighty  blows  against  the  papal  authority  1 
What  is  this  mysterious  strength  which  inspires  him  T 
May  we  not  answer  that  he  had  heard  these  words  of 
God,  addressed  to  one  of  the  holy  men  of  old  :  "  Be- 
hold, I  have  made  thy  face  strong  against  their  faces  ; 
as  an  adamant,  harder  than  flint,  have  I  made  thy  fore- 
head :  fear  them  not." 

Addressed  to  the  German  nobility,  Luther's  appeal 
soon  reached  all  those  for  whom  it  had  been  written. 
It  spread  through  Germany  with  wonderful  rapidity. 
His  friends  trembled;  StaupitzT  and  those  who  preferred 
a  moderate  course,  thought  the  blow  too  severe.  "  In 
these  days,"  answered  Luther,  "  whatever  is  quietly 
mooted,  falls  into  oblivion,  and  no  one  troubles  himself 
about  it."*  At  the  same  time,  he  evinced  perfect 
simplicity  and  humility.  He  had  no  conception  of  the 
prominent  part  he  was  to  perform.  "  I  know  not  what 
to  say  of  myself,"  he  wrote :  "  perhaps  I  am  the  pre- 
cursor of  Philip,  (Melancthon,)  and,  like  Elias,  am  pre- 
paring the  way  for  him  in  spirit  and  in  power.  And  it 
is  he  who  will  one  day  trouble  Israel,  and  the  house  of 
Ahab."t 

But  there  was  no  need  to  wait  for  another  than  him 
who  had  already  appeared.  The  house  of  Ahab  was 
already  shaken.  The  Appeal  to  the  German  Nobility 
had  appeared  on  the  26th  of  June,  1520  ;  and  in  a  short 
time  4000  copies  were  sold — an  extraordinary  number 
for  that  period.  The  astonishment  was  universal. 
This  writing  produced  a  powerful  sensation  among  all 
the  people.  The  force,  the  spirit,  the  clearness,  and 
the  noble  daring  which  reigned  throughout  it,  rendered 
it  a  most  popular  tract.  In  short,  it  was  felt  by  the 
common  people  as  proceeding  from  one  who  loved 
them.  The  hesitating  views  of  very  many  wise  men 
were  clearly  brought  out,  and  the  usurpations  of  Rome 
were  made  evident  to  the  minds  of  all.  No  one  at 
Wittemberg  any  longer  doubted  that  the  Pope  wa» 
Antichrist.  Even  the  Elector's  court,  so  circumspect 
and  timid,  manifested  no  disapprobation,  and  seemed 
to  wait  the  result.  But  the  nobility  and  the  people  did 
not  wait.  The  whole  nation  was  roused  ;  the  voice 
of  Luther  had  deeply  moved  it ;  henceforth  it  was  gain- 
ed over,  and  rallied  round  the  standard  that  he  raised. 
Nothing  could  have  been  more  favourable  to  the  Re- 
former than  this  publication.  In  palaces,  in  the  castles 
of  the  nobles,  in  the  citizens'  dwellings,  and  even  in  the 
cottages  of  the  peasantry,  all  were  now  preparet),and  as 
though  cased  in  steel,  against  the  sentence  of  condem- 
nation which  was  about  to  fall  upon  this  prophet  of  the 
people.  All  Germany  was  in  a  flame  ;  and  whenever 
the  Pope's  bull  might  come,  it  would  not  avail  to  ex- 
tinguish the  conflagration. 

At  Rome  everything  was  ready  for  the  condemna- 
tion of  the  defender  of  the  Church's  liberties.  That 
Church  had  long  lived  in  profound  security.  For  many 

*  Quse  nostro  sfeculo  quiete  tractantur,  mex  cad  ere  in  ob- 
livionem.     (L.  Epp.  i.  479.) 
f  Ibid. 


POLICY  OF  ROME— ECK  AT  ROME— SEPARATION. 


141 


years  the  monks  of  Rome  had  accused  Leo  X.,  of  car- 
ing for  nothing  but  luxury  and  pleasure,  and  wasting 
time  in  hunting,  plays,  and  music,*  while  the  Church 
was  nodding  to  its  ruin.  Now,  at  length  aroused  by 
the  clamours  of  Eck — who  had  come  from  Leipsic  to 
invoke  the  power  of  the  Vatican — the  pope,  the  cardi- 
nals, the  monks,  and  all  Rome,  were  awake  to  the  sense 
of  danger  and  intent  on  saving  the  Papacy. 

In  fact,  Rome  was  brought  into  the  necessity  of  hav- 
ing recourse  to  measures  of  stern  severity.  The 
gauntlet  was  thrown  down  ;  the  combat  must  be  to  the 
death.  It  was  not  the  abuses  of  the  pontiff's  au- 
thority itself— that  Luther  had  attacked.  At  his  bid- 
ding, the  pope  was  required  to  descend  meekly  from 
his  throne,  and  become  again  a  simple  pastor,  or  bishop, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Tiber.  All  the  dignitaries  of  the 
Roman  hierarchy  were  required  to  renounce  their 
riches  and  worldly  glory,  and  again  become  the  elders 
and  deacons  of  the  churches  of  Italy.  AH  that  splen- 
dour and  power,  which  had  for  centuries  dazzled  the 
West,  was  to  vanish  away  and  give  place  to  the  hum- 
ble simplicity  of  worship  of  the  first  Christians.  Doubt- 
less, God  could  have  wrought  these  changes,  and  He 
will  do  so  in  his  own  time  ;  but  they  could  not  be 
looked  for  from  man.  And  even  if  a  people  had  been 
found  so  disinterested  and  courageous  as  to  be  willing 
to  overturn  the  ancient  and  costly  edifice  of  the  Roman 
Church,  thousands  of  priests  and  bishops  would  have 
put  forth  their  hands  to  save  it  from  its  fall.  The  pope 
had  received  his  power  under  the  express  condition  of 
defending  the  dominion  confided  to  him.  Rome 
believed  herself  to  be  set  by  God  for  the  government 
of  the  church.  We  cannot,  therefore,  be  surprised  that 
she  stood  prepared  to  hurl  the  most  terrible  judgments. 
And  yet  for  a  while  she  hesitated.  Many  cardinals, 
and  the  pope  himself,  had  no  wish  to  resort  to  severe 
measures.  The  statesman-like  Leo,  was  well  aware 
that  a  sentence,  the  execution  of  which  depended  on 
the  rather  doubtful  consent  of  the  civil  power,  might 
seriously  compromise  the  authority  of  the  church.  He 
saw,  besides,  that  the  violent  measures  already  resorted 
to,  had  but  increased  the  evil.  Might  not  this  Saxon 
monk  be  gained  over  1  asked  the  politicians  of  Rome. 
Was  it  possible  that  the  church's  power,  aided  by  Italian 
artifice,  should  fail  to  accomplish  its  object]  Nego- 
tiation must  yet  be  tried. 

Eck,  therefore,  found  many  difficulties  to  contend 
with.  He  tried  every  expedient ;  labouring  incessantly 
to  prevent  any  concessions  to  what  he  deemed  heresy. 
In  his  daily  walks  through  Rome  he  loudly  vaunted  his 
anger,  and  called  for  vengeance.  He  was  quickly 
joined  by  the  fanatical  party  of  the  monks.  Embolden- 
ed by  these  allies,  he  besieged  the  pope  arid  the  cardi- 
nals with  fresh  courage.  According  to  him,  any  at- 
tempt at  conciliation  was  useless.  Such  efforts,  said 
he,  are  mere  fancies  and  remote  expectations.  He 
knew  the  danger,  for  he  had  wrestled  with  the  audaci- 
ous monk.  He  saw  the  necessity  for  cutting  off  this 
gangrened  member,  lest  the  disorder  should  spread 
throughout  the  body.  The  vehement  disputer  of 
Leipsic  met  arid  removed  objection  after  objection,  and 
with  difficulty  persuaded  the  pope.f  He  was  resolved 
to  save  Rome  in  spite  of  herself.  He  left  no  stone 
unturned.  For  hours  together  he  continued  in  close 
deliberation  with  the  pontiff  t  He  excited  the  court, 
and  the  convents,  the  people  and  the  church.  "  Eck 
is  moving  against  me,"  says  Luther,  "  the  lowest 

*  E  sopra  tutto  musico  eccellentissimo,  e  quando  el  canta 
con  qualche  uno,  li  far  donar  cento  e  piu  dacati.  (Zorsi  M. 
S.  C.) 

f  Sarpi  Hist,  du  Concile  de  Trente. 

j  Stetimus  nuper,  papa,  duo  cardinalcs— et  ego  per  quinque 
horas  in  deliberatione .  . .  (Eckii  Epistola,  3  Mali.  L.  Opp.  lat. 


depths  of  hell  ;  he  has  set  the  forests  of  Lebanon  in  a 
blaze."*  At  length  he  carried  his  point.  The  politic 
counsellors  were  overborne  by  the  fanatics  who  were 
admitted  to  the  papal  councils.  Leo  gave  way.  The 
condemnation  of  Luther  was  determined  on,  and  Eck 
began  to  breathe  freely.  His  pride  was  flattered  by 
the  thought  that  he  had  decided  the  ruin  of  his  here- 
tical rival,  and  thus  saved  the  church.  "  It  was  well," 
said  he,  "  that  I  came  at  this  time  to  Rome,  for  the 
errors  of  Luther  were  but  little  known  there.  It  will 
one  day  be  known  how  much  I  have  done  in  behalf  of 
this  cause."f 

Thus  did  God  send  out  a  spirit  of  infatuation  upon 
the  doctors  of  Rome.  It  had  become  necessary  that 
the  separation  between  truth  and  error  should  be  effect- 
ed, and  it  was  error  that  was  destined  to  make  the 
separation.  Had  matters  been  brought  to  an  accom- 
modation, it  could  only  have  been  at  the  expense  of 
truth ;  but  to  take  away  from  truth  the  smallest  portion 
of  itself  is  paving  the  way  for  its  utter  loss  and  annihi- 
lation. In  this  respect  Truth  resembles  the  insect 
which  is  said  to  die  if  deprived  of  one  of  its  antennae. 
Truth  requires  to  be  entire  and  perfect  in  all  its  mem- 
bers, in  order  to  the  manifestation  of  that  power  by 
which  it  is  able  to  gain  wide  and  salutary  victories,  and 
extend  its  triumphs  to  future  ages.  Blending  a  little 
error  with  truth,  is  like  casting  a  grain  of  poison  into 
a  full  dish ;  that  grain  suffices  to  change  the  quality 
of  the  food,  and  death,  slow  but  certain,  is  the  result. 
The  defenders  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  against  the 
attacks  of  its  adversaries,  guard  its  advanced  outworks 
as  jealously  as  the  citadel  itself ;  for  the  enemy,  once 
in  possession  of  the  least  important  of  these  posts,  is 
not  far  removed  from  conquest.  The  Roman  Pontiff, 
at  the  period  we  are  treating  of,  determined  upon  rend- 
ing assunder  the  church,  and  the  portion  which  he  has 
continued  to  hold,  though  still  magnificent,  hides  in  vain, 
under  outward  pomp  and  ceremony,  the  principle  that 
is  undermining  its  existence.  Where  the  word  of  God 
is,  there  only  is  life.  Luther,  courageous  as  he  was, 
would  probably  have  been  silent,  if  Rome  herself  had 
kept  silence,  or  shown  any  desire  to  make  concessions. 
But  God  had  not  allowed  the  Reformation  to  be  de- 
pendant on  the  weakness  of  man's  heart ;  Luther  was 
in  the  hands  of  One  whose  eye  penetrated  results. 
Divine  providence  made  use  of  the  pope  to  break  every 
link  between  the  past  and  the  future,  and  to  throw  the 
Reformer  into  a  course  altogether  unknown,  and  lead- 
ing he  knew  not  whither.  The  Papal  Bull  was  Rome's 
bill  of  divorce,  addressed  to  the  pure  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ,  in  the  person  of  one  who  was  then  standing  as 
her  humble  but  faithful  representative  ;  and  the  church 
accepted  it,  that  she  might  thenceforward  hold  only 
from  her  Head  who  is  in  heaven. 

While  at  Rome,  the  condemnation  of  Luther  was 
sought  for  with  violent  animosity.  A  humble  priest,  an 
inhabitant  of  one  of  the  rude  towns  of  Switzerland, 
who  never  had  any  intercourse  with  the  Reformer,  had 
been  deeply  affected  at  the  thought  of  the  blow  which 
hung  over  him,  and  while  even  the  intimates  of  the  doc- 
tor of  Wittemberg  were  silent  and  trembling,  this 
Swiss  mountaineer  formed  the  resolution  to  do  his  ut- 
most to  arrest  the  dreaded  bull !  His  name  was  Ulric 
Zwingle.  William  Des  Faucons,  secretary  to  the 
pope's  Legate  in  Switzerland,  and  intrusted  by  the 
legate  with  his  duties  during  his  absence,  was  his  friend. 
"  As  long  as  I  live,"  said  the  Nuncio  ad  interim  only 
a  few  days  before,  "  you  may  rest  assured  of  everything 
on  my  part  that  can  be  expected  from  a  true  friend.'* 
The  Swiss  priest,  trusting  to  this  assurance,  repaired 

*  Impetraturus  abysses  abyssorum — succensurus  saltum 
Libani.  (L.  Epp.  i.  421,  429.) 

t  Bonum  fuit  me  venisse  hoc  tempore  Honiara.  (Epist. 
Eckiis.) 


142 


THE  SWISS  PRIEST— THE  ROMAN  CONSISTORY- CONDEMNATION. 


to  the  office  of  the  Roman  Nuncio,  (so  at  least  we  may 
conclude  from  one  of  his  letters.)  It  was  not  for  him- 
self that  he  feared  the  dangers  into  which  faith  brings 
the  believer ;  he  knew  that  a  disciple  of  Christ  must 
be  ever  ready  to  lay  down  his  life.  "  All  that  I  ask  of 
Christ  for  myself,"  said  he  to  a  friend  to  whom  he  at 
the  time  unbosomed  his  anxiety  respecting  Luther, 
"  is,  that  I  may  support  the  afflctions  which  await  me 
like  a  man.  I  am  a  vessel  of  clay  in  his  hands  ;  let 
him  break  me  in  shivers,  or  strengthen  me,  as  seems 
good  to  him."*  But  the  Swiss  preacher  dreaded  the 
consequences  to  the  church  of  so  severe  a  blow  struck 
at  the  Reformer.  He  laboured  to  persuade  the  repre- 
sentative of  Rome  to  inform  the  pope  on  the  matter, 
and  to  employ  all  the  means  in  his  power  to  deter  him 
from  excommunicating  Luther. t  "  The  dignity  of  the 
holy  see  itself  is  concerned  in  it,"  said  he ;  "  for  if 
things  come  to  such  a  pass,  Germany,  enthusiastically 
attached  to  the  gospel  and  its  teacher,  will  be  sure  to 
treat  the  Pope  and  his  anathemas  with  conternpt."t 
The  effort  was  unvailing,  and  it  appears  that,  even  at 
the  time  it  was  made,  the  blow  was  already  struck. 
Such  was  the  first  occasion  on  which  the  path  of  the 
Saxon  doctor  and  that  of  the  Swiss  priest  were  so  or- 
dered as  to  meet  together.  We  shall  again  find  the 
latter  in  the  course  of  this  history,  and  shall  behold  him 
developing  his  character,  and  growing  by  degrees  to 
lofty  stature  in  the  church  of  the  Lord. 

The  condemnation  of  Luther  once  determined  on, 
new  difficulties  arose  in  the  bosom  of  the  consistory. 
The  divines  proposed  to  proceed  immediately  to  fulmi- 
nate the  sentence.  The  civilians,  on  the  contrary,  de- 
sired to  commence  by  a  citation.  "  Was  not  Adam," 
said  they,  appealing  to  their  colleagues,  cited  before 
he  was  condemned'!  '  Adam,  where  art  thou  ?'  said 
the  Lord.  In  the  instance  of  Cain,  likewise  :  '  Where 
is  thy  brother  Abel  !'  asked  the  Eternal."  To  these 
singular  arguments,  drawn  from  holy  Writ,  the  canon- 
ists added  considerations  derived  from  natural  law. 
"  Evidence  of  a  crime,"  they  said,  "  cannot  take  from 
any  criminal  the  right  of  defending  himself  against  the 
charge. "§  It  is  pleasing  to  trace  such  principles  of 
equity  in  a  Romish  synod.  But  these  scruples  did 
not  suit  the  theologians  of  the  assembly,  who,  car- 
ried away  by  passion,  thought  only  of  setting  to  work 
quickly.  It  was  finally  arranged  that  Luther's  doc- 
trine should  be  condemned  immediately  ;  and  that  as 
to  himself  and  his  adherents,  a  term  of  sixty  days 
should  be  granted  them  ;  after  which,  if  they  did  not 
recant  their  opinions,  they  should  be  all  ipso  facto  ex- 
communicated. De  Vio,  who  had  returned  from  Ger- 
many sick,  had  himself  carried  on  his  couch  to  the  as- 
sembly, unwilling  to  miss  this  petty  triumph,  which 
afforded  him  some  consolation.  Though  defeated  at 
Augsburg,  he  claimed  to  take  part  at  Rome  in  con- 
demning the  unconquerable  monk,  whom  his  learning, 
acuteness,  and  authority,  had  failed  to  humble.  Lu- 
ther was  not  there  to  answer ;  hence  the  boldness  of 
de  Vio.  On  the  15th  of  June,  the  sacred  college  agreed 
on  the  condemnation,  and  gave  their  approbation  to 
the  celebrated  bull. 

"  Arise,  O  Lord  !"  said  the  Roman  pontiff,  speaking 
at  this  solemn  moment  as  vicar  of  God,  and  head  of 
the  church,  "  arise,  and  remember  the  reproaches 
wherewith  fools  reproach  thee  ail  day  long.  Arise,  O 

*  Hoc  unum  Christum  obtestans,  ut  masculo  omnia  pectore 
ferre  donet,  et  me  figulinum  suum  rumpat  aut  firmet,  ut  illi 
placitum  sit.  (Zwinglii  Epistolse,  curant.  Schulero  et  Schul- 
thessio,  p.  144.) 

t  Ut  pontificem  admoneat,  ne  excommunieationem  ferat. 
(Zwinglii  Epistolre,  curant.  Schulero  et  Schulthessio  p 
144.) 

t  Nam  si  feratur,  augaror  Germanos  cum  excommunica- 
tione  pontificem  quoque  contempturos.  (Ibid.) 

§  Sarpi  Hist,  du  Concile  de  Trente,  i.  12. 


Peter !  remember  thy  holy  Roman  church,  mother  of 
all  the  churches,  and  mistress  of  the  faith.  Arise,  O 
Paul  !  for  a  new  Porphyry  is  here,  attacking  thy  doc- 
trines, and  the  holy  popes,  our  predecessors.  Finally, 
arise,  O  assembly  of  all  the  saints  I  holy  church  of 
God!  and  intercede  for  us  with  God  Almighty.''* 

The  pope  proceeds  to  cite,  as  pernicious,  scandalous, 
and  corrupt,  forty-one  propositions  of  Luther,  in  which 
the  latter  explained  the  "  sound  doctrine  "  of  the  Gos- 
pel. The  following  are  included  in  the  propositions 
condemned  : 

"  To  deny  that  sin  remains  in  the  infant  after  bap- 
tism, is  to  trample  under  foot  St.  Paul  and  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ." 

•'  A  new  life  is  the  best  and  highest  penitence." 

"  To  burn  heretics  is  contrary  to  the  will  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,"  &c.  &c. 

"  As  soon  as  this  bull  shall  be  published,"  continues 
the  pope,  "  the  bishops  are  to  search  diligently  for  the 
writings  of  Martin  Luther,  in  which  these  errors  are 
contained,  and  to  burn  them  publicly  and  solemnly,  in 
the  presence  of  the  clergy  and  of  the  laity.  As  to 
Martin  himself,  what  is  there,  in  the  name  of  Heaven, 
that  we  have  not  done  1  Imitating  the  goodness  of 
God  Almighty,  we  are  ready,  notwithstanding,  to  re- 
ceive him  again  into  the  bosom  of  the  church,  and  we 
allow  him  sixty  days  to  forward  to  us  his  recantation, 
in  writing,  attested  by  two  prelates  ;  or,  rather,  (which 
would  be  more  satisfactory,)  to  present  himself  before 
us  in  Rome,  that  none  may  any  more  doubt  his  obe- 
dience. In  the  meantime,  he  must  from  this  moment 
cease  preaching,  teaching,  and  writing,  and  commit 
his  works  to  the  flames.  And  if  he  do  not  recant, 
within  the  space  of  sixty  days,  we,  by  these  presents, 
sentence  himself,  and  his  adherents,  as  open  and  con- 
tumacious heretics." 

The  pope  afterward  pronounces  a  long  train  of  ex- 
communications, maledictions,  and  interdicts,  against 
Luther  and  all  his  partisans,  with  orders  to  seize  their 
persons,  and  send  them  to  Roroe.t  It  is  easy  to  guess 
what  would  have  become  of  these  generous  confessors 
of  the  Gospel,  in  the  dungeons  of  the  papacy. 

The  storm  was  thus  gathering  over  the  head  of 
Luther.  The  bull  was  published  ;  and,  for  centuries, 
Rome  had  not  uttered  the  sentence  of  condemnation 
without  following  it  with  the  stroke  of  death.  This 
murderous  message  from  the  seven-hilled  city  was  to 
reach  the  Saxon  monk  in  his  cloister.  The  moment 
was  well  chosen.  The  new  emperor,  who  had  so  many 
reasons  for  cultivating  friendly  relations  with  the  poper 
would  no  doubt  hasten  to  recommend  himself  by  sa- 
crificing to  him  an  obscure  monk.  Leo  X.,  the  car- 
dinals, and  all  the  partisans  of  Rome,  exulted,  fancy- 
ing they  saw  their  enemy  at  their  feet. 

While  the  eternal  city  was  thus  agitated,  events  of 
more  tranquil  character  were  passing  at  Wittemberg. 
Melancthon  was  shedding  there  a  soft,  but  brilliant 
light.  Near  two  thousand  auditors,  from  Germany, 
England,  the  Netherlands,  France,  Italy,  Hungary,  and 
Greece,  were  frequently  assembled  around  him.  He- 
was  twenty-four  years  of  age,  and  had  not  taken  or- 
ders. Every  house  in  Wittemberg  was  open  to  this 
young  professor — so  learned,  and  at  the  same  time  so 
amiable.  Foreign  universities,  Ingolstadt  in  particu- 
lar, sought  to  attract  him  within  their  walls.  His 
friends  at  Wittemberg  resolved  to  retain  him  among 
them,  by  inducing  him  to  marry.  Although  he  de- 
sired a  partner  for  his  dear  Philip,  Luther  declared  he 
would  not  be  his  adviser  in  this  affair.  Others  took 

*  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  305,  et  Opp.  lat.  i.  32. 

t  Sub  prsedictis  pcenis,  prsefatum  Lutherum,  complices  ad- 
haerentes,  receptatores  et  fautores,  personaliter  capiant  et  ad 
nos  mittant.  (Bulla  Leonis,  loc.  cit.) 


MELANCTHON— HIS  HEARTH— HIS  STUDIES. 


143 


that  part  upon  themselves.  The  young  doctor  was  a 
frequent  visiter  at  the  house  of  the  burgomaster,  Krapp, 
who  belonged  to  an  ancient  family.  Krapp  had  a 
daughter  named  Catherine,  of  a  mild  and  amiable  cha- 
racter, and  great  sensibility.  Melancthon's  friends 
urged  him  to  ask  her  in  marriage.  But  the  young 
scholar  was  buried  in  his  books,  and  would  not  hear  ol 
anything  else.  His  Greek  authors  and  his  Testament 
formed  his  delight.  He  met  the  arguments  of  his 
friends  with  other  arguments.  At  length  his  consent 
was  obtained.  The  necessary  steps  were  taken  for 
him  by  his  friends,  and  Catherine  was  given  to  him  for 
a  wife.  He  received  her  very  coldly,*  and  said,  with  a 
sigh,  "  God  has  then  willed  it  so ;  I  must  forego  my 
studies  and  my  pleasures,  in  compliance  with  the 
wishes  of  rny  friends."f  Yet  he  was  not  insensible 
to  Catherine's  merits.  "  Her  character  and  education," 
said  he,  "  are  such  as  I  might  have  desired  of  God. 
dejid  6  0eof  TEKnaiQoiTo.t  And  truly  she  is  deserving 
of  a  better  husband."  The  match  was  agreed  on  during 
the  month  of  August ;  the  espousals  took  place  on  the 
25th  of  September  ;  and,  at  the  end  of  November,  the 
marriage  was  celebrated.  Old  John  Luther,  with  his 
wife  and  daughters,  came  to  Wittemberg  on  this  occa- 
sion,^ and  many  learned  and  distinguished  persons  at- 
tended at  the  celebration  of  the  wedding. 

The  young  bride  was  as  remarkable  for  her  warmth 
of  affection,  as  the  young  professor  for  his  coldness  of 
manner.  Ever  full  of  anxiety  for  her  husband,  Cather- 
ine was  alarmed  by  the  least  appearance  of  danger  to 
the  object  of  her  affection.  When  Melancthon  pro- 
posed to  take  any  step  that  might  compromise  his 
safety,  she  overwhelmed  him  with  entreaties  to  re- 
nounce his  intention.  "  I  was  obliged,"  wrote  Melanc- 
thon, on  one  of  these  occasions,  "  I  was  obliged  to 
yield  to  her  weakness — it  is  our  lot."  How  many  in- 
stances of  unfaithfulness,  in  the  church,  may  have  a 
similar  origin  1  Perhaps  to  the  influence  of  Cather- 
ine we  should  attribute  the  timidity  and  fears  for  which 
her  husband  has  been  often  blamed.  Catherine  was 
no  less  tender  as  a  mother  than  as  a  wife.  She  gave 
liberally  to  the  poor.  "  Forsake  me  not,  0  God  !  when 
I  am  old  and  gray-headed  !"  Such  was  the  ordinary 
ejaculation  of  this  pious  and  timid  soul.  The  heart  of 
Melancthon  was  soon  won  over  by  the  affection  of  his 
wife.  When  he  had  once  tasted  the  sweets  of  domes- 
tic life,  he  became  fully  sensible  of  their  value.  He 
was  formed,  indeed,  to  relish  them,  and  nowhere  was 
he  more  happy  than  with  his  Catherine  and  his  chil- 
dren. A  .French  traveller,  having  one  day  found  the 
"  master  of  Germany  "  rocking  the  cradle  of  his  child 
with  one  hand,  and  holding  a  book  in  the  other,  started 
with  surprise.  But  Melancthon,  without  being  discon- 
certed, explained  to  him,  with  so  much  earnestness, 
the  high  value  of  children  in  the  sight  of  God,  that  the 
stranger  left  the  house  wiser,  to  use  his  own  words, 
than  he  had  entered  it. 

The  marriage  of  Melancthon  added  a  domestic  hearth 
to  the  Reformation.  There  was  thenceforward  in 
Wittemberg  one  family  whose  house  was  open  to  all 
those  who  were  breathing  the  new  life.  The  con- 
course of  strangers  was  immense.  ||  People  came  to 
Melancthon  concerning  a  thousand  different  matters  ; 
and  the  established  rule  was  to  refuse  nothing  to  any 

*  Uxor  enim  datur  mihi  non  dico  quam  frigenti.  (Corp.  Ref. 
i.  211.) 

t  Ege  meis  studiis,  mea  me  voluptade  fraudo.  (Ibid.  i. 
265.) 

I  May  God  bring  the  affair  to  a  happy  issue !     (Ibid.  i. 

2.) 

^  Parentes  mei  cum  sororibus  nuptias  honorarunt  Philippi. 
(L.Epp.  i.  528) 

1|  Videres  in  sedibus  illis  perpetuo  accedentes  etintroeuntes 
et  discedentes  atque  exeuntes  aliquos.  (Camerar.  Vita  Me- 
lancth.  p.  40.) 


one.*  The  young  professor  was  especially  disinterest- 
ed on  occasions  of  doing  good.  When  his  money  was 
spent,  he  would  secretly  part  with  his  table  service  to 
some  dealer,  but  little  concerning  himself  for  the  loss 
of  it,  so  that  he  might  have  wherewithal  to  relieve  the 
distressed. 

Accordingly,  "it  would  have  been  impossible,"  says 
his  friend  Camerarius,  "to  hare  provided  his  own  wants, 
and  those  of  his  family,  if  a  divine  hidden  blessing  had 
not  furnished  him  from  time  to  time  with  the  means." 
His  good-nature  was  extreme.  He  had  some  ancient 
gold  and  silver  medals,  remarkable  for  their  legends 
and  impressions.  One  day  he  was  showing  them  to  a 
stranger  who  was  on  a  visit.  "  Take  any  one  you 
would  like,"  said  Melancthon  to  him. — "I  would  like 
them  all,"  answered  the  stranger.  "  I  own,"  says 
Philip,  "  I  was  at  first  offended  at  this  unreasonable 
request  :  nevertheless,  I  gave  them  to  him."f 

There  was  in  the  writings  of  Melancthon  a  delightful 
odour  of  antiquity,  which  gave  them  an  inexpressible 
charm,  while  it  did  not  prevent  the  savour  of  Christ 
from  being  at  the  same  time  exhaled  from  every  part 
of  them.  There  is  not  one  of  his  letters  to  his  friends, 
in  which  one  is  not  naturally  reminded  of  the  wisdom, 
of  Homer,  of  Plato,  of  Cicero,  and  of  Pliny — CHRIST 
remaining  always  his  Master  and  his  God.  Spalatin 
had  desired  of  him  an  explanation  of  this  saying  of  Je- 
sus Christ :  "  Without  me,  ye  can  do  nothing."  (John 
xv.  5.)  Melancthon  referred  him  to  Luther  :  "  '  Cur 
agam  gestum  spectante  Roscio,'  to  use  the  words  of 
Cicero,"*  said  he.  He  then  continues  :  "  The  passage 
teaches  that  we  must  be  absorbed  by  Christ,  so  that  we 
ourselves  should  no  longer  act,  but  that  Christ  should 
live  in  us.  As  the  divine  nature  has  been  made  one 
body  with  man  in  Christ,  so  should  man  be  incorporated 
by  faith  with  Jesus  Christ." 

This  celebrated  scholar  usually  retired  to  rest  shortly 
after  supper.  At  two  or  three  o'clock  in  the  morning 
he  was  at  work.§  It  was  during  these  early  studies 
that  his  best  works  were  composed.  His  manuscripts 
were  usually  laid  on  his  table,  exposed  in  view  of  all 
who  went  in  and  out,  so  that  he  was  robbed  of  several 
of  them.  When  he  had  invited  any  friends  to  his 
house,  he  requested  one  or  other  of  them,  before  sit- 
ting down  to  table,  to  read  some  short  composition, 
either  in  prose  or  verse.  When  he  made  a  journey, 
he  always  took  with  him  some  young  persons  as  com- 
panions. He  conversed  with  them  in  a  manner  both 
instructive  and  entertaining.  If  conversation  flagged, 
each  was  required  to  recite  in  turn  some  passages  from, 
the  ancient  poets.  He  frequently  resorted  to  irony, 
tempering  it,  however,  by  much  sweetness.  "  He  does 
but  prick  the  skin,"  said  he,  speaking  of  himself,  "  he 
never  inflicts  a  wound." 

Learning  was  his  passion.  The  great  object  of  his 
ife  was  to  diffuse  a  love  of  letters  and  general  infor- 
mation. Let  us  not  forget,  that  the  literature  highest 
'n  his  estimation  was  the  Holy  Scripture,  and  only 
subordinately  the  literature  of  the  heathen.  "  I  devote 
myself,"  said  he,  "  to  one  thing  only  ;  the  defence  of 
earning.  We  must  by  our  example  kindle  the  admi- 
ration of  youth  for  knowledge,  and  lead  them  to  love 
t  for  its  own  sake',  not  for  the  gain  that  is  to  be  made 
of  it.  The  ruin  of  letters  brings  with  it  the  destruction 
of  all  that  is  good  :  religion,  morals,  the  things  of  God, 
and  the  things  of  man II  The  better  a  man  is, 

*  Ea  domus  disciplina  erat,  ut  nihil  cuiquam  negaretur. 
'Ibid.) 

t  Sed  dedisse  nihilominus  illos.    (Camerar.  Vita  Melanc.  43.) 

\  "  Why  should  I  speak  in  the  presence  of  Roscius  ?'•  (Corp. 
Reform  Ep.  Apr.  13,  1520.) 

^  Surgebat  mox  aut  non  longo  intervallo  post  mediam  noc- 
:em.  (Camerar.  p.  56.) 

||  Religionem,  mores,  humana  divinaque  omnia  labefactat 
literarum  inscitia.  (Corp.  Ref.  i  207,  July  22,  1520.) 


144   THE  GOSPEL  IN  ITALY— LUTHER  ON  THE  MASS— CAPTIVITY  OF  THE  CHURCH. 


the  greater  is  his  desire  to  preserve  knowledge  :  for  he 
knows,  that  of  all  plagues,  ignorance  is  the  most  per- 
nicious." 

Some  time  after  his  marriage,  Melancthon  went  to 
Bretten,  in  the  Palatinate,  in  company  with  Carnerarius, 
and  some  other  friends,  on  a  visit  to  his  affectionate 
mother.  As  soon  as  he  caught  a  view  of  his  native 
town,  he  alighted,  and  kneeling  down,  thanked  God  for 
having  permitted  him  to  see  it  once  more.  Margaret, 
embracing  her  son,  almost  swooned  for  joy.  She 
pressed  him  to  fix  his  abode  at  Bretten,  and  was  urgent 
in  entreaties  that  he  would  continue  in  the  faith  of  his 
fathers.  Melancthon  excused  himself,  but  with  much 
moderation  and  reserve,  from  fear  of  wounding  his 
mother's  conscience.  He  grieved  at  parting  from  her  ; 
and  whenever  any  traveller  brought  him  news  from  his 
native  town,  he  was  as  merry,  he  said,  as  if  going  back 
to  childhood  itself.  Such,  in  the  touching  privacy  of 
domestic  life,  was  the  man  who  was  one  of  the  chief 
instruments  of  the  religious  revolution  of  the  sixteenth 
century. 

The  family  peace  and  busy  studies  of  Wittemberg 
were  shortly  after  disturbed  by  a  tumult.  The  students 
quarrelled,  and  came  to  blows  with  the  citizens.  The 
rector  betrayed  great  want  of  energy.  The  grief  of 
Melancthon,  on  witnessing  the  excesses  of  these  disci- 
ples of  learning,  may  be  easily  imagined.  Luther  was 
indignant.  His  was  not  the  character  that  would  con- 
ciliate by  undue  concessions.  The  disgrace  these  dis- 
orders brought  upon  the  University  deeply  wounded 
him.*  He  ascended  the  pulpit,  and  preached  with  great 
force  against  these  seditions  ;  calling  on  both  parties 
to  submit  themselves  to  the  magistrates.!  His  dis- 
course occasioned  great  irritation.  "  Satan,"  said  he, 
"not  being  able  to  prevail  against  us  from  without, 
seeks  to  injure  us  from  within.  I  do  not  fear  him  ; 
but  I  fear  lest  the  anger  of  God  should  fall  upon  us  for 
not  having  fully  received  his  word.  In  these  last  three 
years,  I  have  been  thrice  exposed  to  great  danger :  in 
1518  at  Augsburg,  in  1519  at  Leipsic,  and  now,  in  1520, 
at  Wittemberg.  It  is  neither  by  wisdom,  nor  by  vio- 
lence, that  the  renovation  of  the  Church  will  be  accom- 
plished, but  by  humble  prayer,  and  a  bold  faith,  that 
shall  range  Jesus  Christ  on  our  side.|  O  my  friend, 
join  thy  prayers  to  mine,  that  the  .evil  spirit  may  not  be 
permitted  to  use  this  little  spark,  to  kindle  a  vast  con- 
flagration." 

But  more  terrible  conflicts  awaited  Luther. — Rome 
•was  brandishing  the  sword,  with  which  she  was  about 
to  strike  the  preacher  of  the  Gospel.  The  rumour  of 
the  condemnation  which  was  about  to  fall  upon  him, 
far  from  depressing  the  Reformer,  increased  his  cour- 
age. He  took  no  pains  to  parry  the  stroke  of  this 
haughty  power.  It  is  by  striking  yet  more  terrible 
blows  himself,  that  he  will  baffle  those  of  his  adversa- 
ries. While  the  Transalpine  congregations  were  ful- 
minating their  anathemas  against  him,"  he  was  planning 
to  carry  the  sword  of  the  word  into  the  midst  of  the 
Italian  states.  Letters  from  Venice  spoke  of  the  favour 
with  which  the  opinions  were  there  received.  He  ar- 
dently desired  to  send  the  Gospel  beyond  the  Alps. 
But  evangelists  were  required  to  be  the  bearers  of  it. 
"  I  could  wish,"  said  he,  "  that  we  h'ad  living  books, 
that  is  to  say,  preachers,^  and  that  we  could  multiply 
and  protect  them  in  all  places,  that  they  might  convey 
to  the  people  the  knowledge  of  divine  things.  The 
Prince  could  not  undertake  a  work  more  worthy  of  him- 
self. If  the  people  of  Italy  were  to  receive  the  truth, 

*  Urit  me  ista  confusio  acaiemiae  nostras.     (L.  Epp.  i.  467.) 

f  Commendans  potestatem  magistratuum.     (Ibid.) 

j Nee  prudentia  nee  armis,  scdhumiliorationeet  forti 

fide,  quibus  obtineamus  Christum  pro  nobis.     (Ibid.  p.  469.) 
<j»  Si  vivos  libros,  hoc  est  concionatores  possemus  multipli- 

care.    (L.  Epp.  i.  491.) 


oar  cause  would  then  be  unassailable."  It  does  not 
appear  that  this  project  of  Luther  was  realized.  At  a 
later  period,  it  is  true,  some  preachers  of  the  Gospel, 
Calvin  himself  among  others,  resided  for  a  while  in 
Italy  :  but  at  this  time  no  steps  were  taken  to  accom- 
plish Luther's  plan.  He  had  looked  for  help  to  one  of 
the  princes  of  this  world.  Had  he  appealed  to  men  in 
humble  station,  but  full  of  zeal  for  the  kingdom  of  God, 
the  result  might  have  been  very  different.  At  the 
period  we  are  recording,  the  idea  was  general  that  every- 
thing must  be  done  by  governments  ;  and  the  associa- 
tion of  private  individuals,  an  agency  by  which,  in  our 
days,  such  great  things  are  accomplished  in  Christen- 
dom, was  almost  unknown. 

If  Luther  was  not  successful  in  his  plans  for  spread- 
ing the  knowledge  of  the  truth  to  distant  countries,  he 
was  but  the  more  zealous  in  preaching  it  at  home.  It 
was  at  this  time  that  he  delivered,  at  Wittemberg,  his 
discourse  on  the  office  of  the  mass.*  In  this  discourse 
he  declaimed  against  the  numerous  sects  of  the  Romish 
Church,  and  reproached  her,  with  justice,  for  her  want 
of  unity.  "The  multiplicity  of  laws  in  matters  of 
conscience,"  he  exclaims,  "  has  filled  the  world  with 
sects  and  divisions.  The  hatred  thence  engendered 
between  priests,  monks,  and  laity,  is  even  greater  than 
that  which  exists  between  Christians  and  Turks.  Nay, 
more  than  this  ;  priests  are  mortal  enemies  to  priests, 
and  monks  to  monks.  Each  is  devoted  to  his  own 
sect,  and  despises  all  others.  The  unity  and  love  of 
Christ  is  broken  up  and  destroyed."  He  then  attacks 
the  opinion,  that  the  mass  is  a  sacrifice,  and  has  any 
power  in  itself.  "  The  better  part  of  every  sacrifice, 
and  consequently  of  the  Lord's  Supper,"  he  says,  "  is 
in  the  word  and  the  promises  of  God.  Without  faith 
in  this  word,  and  in  these  promises,  the  sacrament  is 
but  dead  ;  it  is  a  body  without  a  soul,  a  cup  without 
wine,  a  purse  without  money,  a  type  without  fulfilment, 
a  letter  without  meaning,  a  casket  without  jewels,  a 
sheath  without  a  sword." 

The  voice  of  Luther  was  not,  however,  confined 
within  the  limits  of  Wittemberg  ;  and  if  he.  did  not  find 
missionaries  to  carry  his  instructions  to  distant  parts, 
God  had  provided  a  missionary  of  a  new  kind.  Print- 
ing was  destined  to  supply  the  place  of  preachers  of 
the  Gospel.  The  press  was  to  constitute  a  battery 
which  should  open  a  breach  in  the  Roman  fortress. 
The  mine  had  been  charged  by  Luther,  and  the  explo- 
sion shook  the  edifice  of  Rome  to  its  foundations. 
His  famous  tract  on  the  Babylonian  Captivity  of  the 
Church  appeared  on  the  6th  of  October,  1520.f 
Never  had  any  one  evinced  such  courage  in  circum- 
stances so  critical. 

In  this  work  he  begins  by  setting  forth,  with  admira- 
ble irony,  all  the  advantages  for  which  he  is  indebted 
to  his  enemies  : 

"  Whether  I  will  or  no,"  says  he,  "  I  learn  more 
and  more  every  day,  urged  on  as  I  am  by  so  many 
celebrated  masters.  Two  years  ago  I  attacked  indul- 
gences;  but  with  such  faltering  indecision,  tint  I  aw 
now  ashamed  of  it.  It,  however,  is  not  to  be  wonder- 
ed at ;  for  then  I  had  to  roll  forward  the  rock  by  my- 
self." 

He  then  returns  thanks  to  Prierias,  to  Eck,  to  Em- 
ser,  and  to  his  other  adversaries.  "  I  denied/'  he  con- 
tinued, "  that  the  Papacy  was  from  God,  but  admitted 
that  it  stood  by  human  right.  But  now,  after  having 
read  all  the  subtleties  on  which  these  worthies  set  up 
their  idol,  I  know  that  Papacy  is  nothing  but  the  reign 
of  Babylon,  and  the  violence  of  the  mighty  hunler 
Nimrod.  I  therefore  request  all  my  friends,  and  all 
booksellers,  that  they  will  burn  the  books  I  have  before 

*  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  490. 

t  L.  Opp.  lat.  ii.  63,  et  Leips,  xvii.  611. 


BAPTISM— NO  OTHER  VOWS— MILTITZ  AT  EISLEBEN. 


145 


written  on  this  subject,  and  in  their  stead  substitute 
this  single  proposition  :  '  The  Papacy  is  a  general 
chase,  led  by  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  and  having  for  its 
object  the  snaring  and  ruining  of  souls.'  " 

Luther  afterward  attacks  the  errors  that  prevailed 
with  respect  to  the  sacraments,  monastic  vows,  &c. 
He  reduces  the  seven  sacraments  of  the  Church  to 
three  ;  Baptism,  Penitence,  and  the  Lord's  Supper. 
He  explains  the  true  nature  of  the  latter.  He  then 
passes  on  to  baptism,  and  it  is  here  especially  that  he 
establishes  the  excellence  of  Faith,  and  makes  a  power- 
ful attack  upon  Rome.  "  God,"  he  says,  "  has  pre- 
served to  us  this  sacrament  alone  pure  from  human 
traditions.  God  has  said  :  '  He  that  bclieveth,  and 
is  baptized,  shall  be  saved.'  This  promise  of  God 
ought  to  be  preferred  to  the  glory  of  all  works,  to  all 
vows,  satisfactions,  indulgences,  and  everything  which 
man  has  invented.  Now  on  this  promise,  received  by 
faith,  depends  our  salvation.  If  we  believe,  our  heart 
is  strengthened  by  the  divine  promise  ;  and  though  a 
believer  should  be  bereft  of  all  beside,  this  promise, 
which  he  believes,  will  never  forsake  him.  With  this 
he  will  be  able  to  withstand  the  adversary  who  assaults 
his  soul.  It  will  be  his  support  in  the  hour  of  death, 
and  his  plea  at  the  judgment-seat  of  God.  In  all  his 
trials  it  will  be  his  consolation  that  he  can  say  :  God 
is  faithful  to  his  promise  :  I  have  received  the  pledge 
of  it  in  baptism  :  if  God  is  for  me,  who  can  be  against 
me  ?  Oh,  how  rich  is  the  baptized  Christian  !  nothing 
can  ruin  him,  but  his  own  refusal  to  believe. 

"  Perhaps  the  baptism  of  little  children  may  be  ob- 
jected to  what  I  say  as  to  the  necessity  of  faith.  But 
as  the  word  of  God  is  mighty  to  change  the  heart  of 
an  ungodly  person,  who  is  not  less  deaf,  nor  less  help- 
less than  an  infant — so  the  prayer  of  the  Church,  to 
which  all  things  are  possible,  changes  the  little  child, 
by  the  operation  of  the/at^  which  God  pours  into  his 
soul,  and  thus  purifies  and  renews  it."t 

Having  explained  the  doctrine  of  baptism,  Luther 
makes  use  of  it  as  a  weapon  against  the  Papacy.  If 
the  Christian  really  finds  all  his  salvation  in  renewal 
by  baptism,  through  faith,  what  need  has  he  of  the 
prescriptions  of  Rome  ? 

"  For  this  reason,"  says  Luther,  "  I  declare  that 
neither  pope,  nor  bishop,  nor  any  other  man  living, 
has  authority  to  impose  the  least  thing  upon  a  Christian 
without  his  own  consent.  Whatever  is  done  other- 
wise, is  done  by  an  arbitrary  assumption. {  We  are 
free  from  all  men.  The  vow  which  we  have  made  in 
baptism  is  of  itself  sufficient,  and  more  than  we  can 
ever  fulfil. §  All  other  vows,  then,  may  be  dispensed 
with.  Let  whoever  enters  into  the  priesthood,  or  joins 
a  monastic  order,  be  assured  that  the  labours  of  a 
monk  or  of  a  priest,  however  arduous,  differ  in  no  re- 
spect, as  to  their  value  in  the  sight  of  God,  from  those 
of  a  peasant  working  in  his  field,  or  of  a  woman  attend- 
ing to  the  duties  of  her  house  ||  God  esteems  all 
things  according  to  the  faith  whence  they  proceed. 
And  it  often  happens  that  the  simple  labour  of  a  serv- 
ing man  or  woman  is  more  acceptable  to  God  than 

•Papatus  est  robusta  venatio  Romani  episcopi.  (L.  Opp. 
lat.  ii.  64.) 

f  Sicut  enim  verbumDei  potens  est  dum  sonat,  etiam  impii 
cor  immutare.  quod  non  minus  surdum  et  incapax  quam  ullus 
parvulus,  ita  per  orationem  Ecclesias  oft'erentis  et  credentis, 
parvulus  fide  infusa  mutatur,  mandatur  et  renovatur.  (L. 
Opp.  lat.  ii.  77.) 

\  Dico  itaque,  neque  papa,  neque  episcopus,  neque  ullu.? 
hominumhabetjus  unius  syllable constituendfc  super  Christ- 
ianum  hominem,  nisi  id  fiat  ejusdem  consensu  ;  quidquid 
aliter  fit,  tyrannico  spiritu  fit.  (Ib.  77.) 

§  Generali  edicto  tollere  vota — abunde  enim  vovimus  in  bap- 
tismo,  et  plus  quam  possimus  implere.  (Ib.  78.) 

||  Opera  quantum  libet  sacra  at  ardua  reli^iosorum  et  sacer- 
dotutn,  inoculis  Dei  prorsits  nihil  distare  aboperibus  rustici 
in  agra  laborantis  aut  mulieris  in  domo  sua  curautis.    (Ib.) 
T 


the  fastings  and  works  of  a  monk,  because  in  these 
last  faith  is  wanting.  Christian  people  are  the  true 
people  of  God,  carried  captive  to  Babylon,  and  there 
stripped  of  what  they  had  acquired  by  their  baptism." 

Such  were  the  means  by  which  the  religious  revolu- 
tion, we  are  relating,  was  accomplished.  The  neces- 
sity of  faith  was  first  established,  and  then  the  Reform- 
ers applied  it  to  demolish  and  bring  to  dust  the  pre- 
vailing superstitions.  It  was  with  that  power,  which 
is  of  God,  and  which  can  remove  mountains,  that  they 
advanced  against  so  many  errors.  These  words  of 
Luther,  and  many  other  similar  appeals,  circulating  far 
and  wide  through  cities,  convents,  and  country  places, 
became  the  leaven  which  leavened  the  whole  mass. 

Luther  terminated  this  work  on  the  Babylonian  Cap- 
tivity with  these  words  : — 

"  I  hear  that  new  papal  excommunications  have  been 
concocted  against  me.  If  this  be  so,  this  book  may 
be  regarded  as  a  part  of  my  future  'recantation.'  The 
rest  will  follow  shortly,  in  proof  of  my  obedience  ;  and 
the  whole  will,  by  Christ's  help,  form  a  collection  such 
as  Rome  has  never  yet  seen  or  heard  of." 

After  this,  all  hope  of  reconciliation  between  the 
Pope  and  Luther  must  necessarily  have  vanished. 
The  incompatibility  of  the  faith  of  the  Reformer  with 
the  Church's  teaching  could  not  but  be  evident  to  the 
least  discerning.  But  at  this  very  time  fresh  negotia- 
tions had  just  commenced.  About  the  end  of  August, 
1520,  and  five  weeks  before  the  publication  of  the 
"  Babylonian  Captivity,"  the  chapter  of  the  Augustines 
was  assembled  at  Eisleben.  The  venerable  Staupitz 
resigned  on  this  occasion  the  office  of  Vicar-general 
of  the  order,  and  Wenceslaus  Link,  who  had  accom- 
panied Luther  to  Augsburg,  was  invested  with  that 
dignity.  The  indefatigable  Miltitz  arrived  suddenly 
during  the  sitting  of  the  chapter.*  He  was  eagerly 
bent  on  reconciling  the  Pope  and  Luther.  His  self- 
love,  his  avarice,  but,  above  all,  his  jealousy  and  hatred, 
were  interested  therein.  The  vain-glorious  boasting 
of  Eck  had  thrown  him  into  the  shade  ;  he  knew  that 
doctor  of  Ingolstadt,  had  disparaged  him  at  Rome, 
and  he  would  have  made  any  sacrifice  to  baffle  the 
plots  of  his  troublesome  rival,  by  the  prompt  conclu- 
sion of  peace.  The  religious  bearing  of  the  question 
gave  him  little  or  no  concern.  One  day,  as  he  him- 
self relates,  he  was  at  table  with  the  bishop  of  Meis- 
sen ;  and  the  guests  had  drank  pretty  freely,  when  a 
new  work  of  Luther's  was  brought  in.  It  was  opened 
and  read  ;  the  bishop  went  into  a  passion  :  the  official 
swore  ;  but  Miltitz  laughed  heartily.f  Miltitz  dealt 
with  the  Reformation  as  a  man  of  the  world  ;  Eck  as 
a  theologian. 

Stimulated  by  the  arrival  of  Dr.  Eck,  Miltitz  addres- 
sed to  the  chapter  of  the  Augustines  a  discourse  de- 
ivered  with  a  very  marked  Italian  accent,*  thinking  by 
his  means,  to  impose  upon  his  good  countrymen. 
"  The  whole  order  of  the  Augustines  is  compromised 
n  this  affair,"  said  he  :  "  Point  out  to  me,  I  pray  you, 
some  means  of  restraining  Luther."<j  "  We  have  no- 
thing to  do  with  the  doctor,"  answered  the  fathers, 
"and  we  should  not  know  what  advice  to  give  you." 
They  rested  their  answer,  doubtless,  on  the  fact  of 
Luther  having  been  released  by  Staupitz  at  Augsburg 
from  his  obligations  as  concerned  their  order.  Miltitz 
persisted.  "  Let  a  deputation  of  this  venerable  chap- 
ter wait  on  Luther,  and  request  him  to  write  a  letter 

*  Nondum  tot  pressus  difficultatibus  animum  desponderat 
Miltitius — dignus  profecto  non  mediocri  laude.  (Pallavicini, 
'.  68.) 

t  Der  Bischof  entriistet,  der  Official  gefluchet,  et  aber  gela- 
chet  habe  (Seckend.  p.  266.) 

\  Orationem  habuit  italica  pronontiatione  restitam.  (L. 
Epp.  i.  483.) 

^  Petens  consilium  super  me  compescendo.     (Ibid.) 


146 


CONFERENCE  AT  L1CHTENBERG— LUTHER'S  LETTER  TO  THE  POPE. 


to  the  Pope,  assuring  him  that  he  has  never  laid  any 
plots  against  his  person.*  That  will  suffice  to  terminate 
the  affair."  The  chapter  yielded  to  the  proposal  of 
the  Nuncio,  and  commissioned,  doubtless  at  his  desire, 
Staupitz  the  late  Vicar-general,  and  Link  his  succes- 
sor, to  confer  with  Luther.  The  deputation  set  out  im- 
mediately for  Wittemberg,  bearing  a  letter  from  Miltitz, 
addressed  to  the  doctor,  and  full  of  expressions  of  high 
respect.  "  There  was  no  time  to  lose,"  said  he,  "  the 
thunder  already  suspended  over  the  head  of  the  Refor- 
mer, was  about  to  burst ;  and  then  all  would  be  over." 

Neither  Luther  nor  the  deputies,  who  were  favour- 
able to  his  opinions,!  entertained  a  hope  that  anything 
would  be  gained  by  writing  to  the  Pope.  But  this  in 
itself  was  a  reason  for  not  refusing  compliance  with 
the  suggestion.  The  letter  could  but  be-  a  matter  of 
form  which  would  make  still  more  apparent  the  justice 
of  Luther's  cause.  "  The  Italian  of  Saxony  (Miltitz,") 
thought  Luther,  "  has  doubtless  his  own  private  in- 
terest in  view  in  making  this  request.  Well,  be  it  so  ; 
I  will  write  in  strict  conformity  with  truth,  that  I  have 
never  entertained  any  design  against  the  Pope's  person. 
I  must  be  on  my  guard,  and  not  be  too  stern  in  my 
hostility  to  the  see  of  Rome.  Yet  it  shall  be  sprinkled 
with  salt."J 

But  shortly  after  this,  the  doctor  heard  of  the  arrival 
of  the  bull  in  Germany ;  on  the  3d  of  October,  he 
declared  to  Spalatin  that  he  would  not  write  to  the 
Pope,  and  on  the  6th  of  the  same  month  he  published 
his  book  on  the  "  Babylonian  Captivity."  Still  Miltitz 
was  not  disheartened. — His  wish  to  humble  Eck,  made 
him  dream  of  impossibilities.  On  the  3d  of  October 
he  had  written  in  full  confidence  to  th.3  Elector  :  "  All 
will  go  well ;  but,  for  God's  sake,  do  not  any  longer 
delay  paying  me  the  pension  which  you  and  your 
brother  have  allowed  me  for  some  years  past.  I  must 
have  money  to  gain  new  friends  at  Rome.  Write  to 
the  Pope,  present  the  young  cardinals,  his  relations, 
with  gold  and  silver  pieces  of  your  Electoral  High- 
ness's  coin,  and  add  some  for  me  ;  for  I  have  been 
robbed  of  what  you  had  given  me."§ 

Even  after  Luther  had  heard  of  the  bull,  the  intrigu- 
ing Miltitz  was  not  discouraged.  He  requested  a 
conference  with  Luther  at  Lichtenberg.  The  Elector 
ordered  the  latter  to  repair  thither.H  But  his  friends, 
and  above  all,  the  affectionate  Melancthon,  opposed  his 
going. ^T  "  What,"  thought  they,  "  at  the  moment  of 
the  appearance  of  the  bull  which  enjoins  all  to  seize 
Luther,  that  he  may  be  taken  to  Rome,  shall  he  accept 
a  conference,  in  a  secluded  place,  with  the  Pope's 
Nuncio  ]  Is  it  not  clear  that  Dr.  Eck,  not  being  able 
to  approach  the  Reformer,  because  he  has  made  his 
hatred  too  public,  the  crafty  chamberlain  has  under- 
taken to  snare  Luther  in  his  toils  1" 

These  fears  could  not  restrain  the  doctor  of  Wittem- 
berg. The  Prince  had  commanded,  and  he  resolved 
to  obey.  "  I  am  setting  out  for  Lichtenberg,"  he  wrote 
on  the  llth  of  October,  to  the  chaplain  :  "  Pray  for 
me."  His  friends  would  not  desert  him.  On  the 
same  day,  toward  evening,  Luther  entered  Lichten- 
berg on  horseback,  surrounded  by  thirty  horsemen, 
among  whom  was  Melancthon.  About  the  same  time, 
the  Pope's  Nuncio  arrived,  attended  only  by  four  per- 
sons.** Might  not  this  modest  escort  be  a  stratagem 
to  inspire  Luther  and  his  friends  with  confidence  ? 

*  Nihil  me  in  personam  suam  fuisse  molitum.     (Ibid  484.) 
f  Quibus  omnibus  casua  mea  non  displicet.     (Ibid  486.) 
i  Aspergetur  tamen  sale  suo.     (L.  Epp.  i.  486.) 
^  Den  Pabst's  Mepoten,  zwei  oder  drei  Chrufursliche  Gold 

und  Silbersiitcke,  zu  verehren.    (Seckend.  p.  267.) 
||  Sicut  princeps  orbinavit.     (L.  Epp.  i.  455.) 
IT  Invito  draeceptore  (Melancthon)  nescio  quanta  metuente. 

(Ibid.) 
**  Jener  von  mehr  als  dreissig,  dieser  aber  kaum  mit  vier 

Pferden  begleitet.    (Seckend.  p.  268.) 


Miltitz  was  urgent  in  his  solicitations  ;  he  assured 
Luther  that  the  blame  would  be  thrown  on  Eck,  and 
his  foolish  boastings,*  and  that  all  would  be  arranged  to 
the  satisfaction  of  both  parties.  "  Well  !"  answered 
Luther,  "  I  offer  to  keep  silence  for  the  future,  if  my 
adversaries  will  but  do  the  same.  I  will  do  all  I  can 
to  maintain  it."t 

Miltitz  was  overjoyed.  He  accompanied  Luther  as 
far  as  Wittemberg.  The  Reformer  and  the  Papal 
Nuncio  entered  the  city  side  by  side,  while  Dr.  Eck 
was  drawing  near  it,  holding,  in  menacing  hands,  the 
formidable  bull,  which  it  was  hoped,  would  extinguish 
the  Reformation.  "  We  shall  bring  the  affair  to  a 
happy  issue,"  wrote  Miltitz  forthwith  to  the  Elector  : 
"  thank  the  Pope  for  his  rose,  and  send  at  the  same 
time  forty  or  fifty  florins  to  the  cardinal  Quatuor  Sanc- 


Luther,  in  fulfilment  of  his  promise,  was  to  write  to 
the  Pope.  Before  bidding  an  eternal  farewell  to  Rome, 
he  resolved  once  more  to  address  to  her  some  weighty 
and  salutary  truths.  His  letter  may  perhaps  be  regard- 
ed by  some  as  a  mere  caustic  composition,  a  bitter  and 
insulting  satire  ;  but  this  would  be  to  mistake  his 
feelings.  It  was  his  conviction  that  to  Rome  were  to 
be  attributed  all  the  ills  of  Christendom  :  bearing  that 
in  view,  his  words  are,  not  insults,  but  solemn  warn- 
ings. The  more  he  loves  Leo,  the  more  he  loves  the 
church  of  Christ  ;  he  resolves  therefore  to  disclose  the 
greatness  of  the  evil.  The  energy  of  his  affection 
may  be  inferred  from  the  strength  of  his  expressions. 
The  moment  is  arrived  for  heavy  blows.  He  reminds 
us  of  a  prophet,  for  the  last  time,  traversing  the  city, 
reproaching  it  with  all  its  abominations,  revealing  to  it 
the  judgments  of  the  Eternal,  and  crying  aloud  :  "  Yet 
a  few  days  !"  —  The  following  is  the  letter  : 

"  To  the  most  Holy  Father  in  God,  Leo  X.,  Pope 
of  Rome,  all  happiness  and  prosperity  in  Christ  Jesus 
our  Lord.  Amen. 

"  From  the  midst  of  this  violent  contest,  which,  for 
these  three  years  past,  I  have  waged  with  abandoned 
men,  I  cannot  refrain  from  sometimes  turning  my  eyes 
toward  you,  O  Leo,  Most  Holy  Father  in  God  !  And 
although  the  madness  of  your  impious  parasites  has 
compelled  me  to  appeal  from  your  sentence  to  a  future 
Council,  my  heart  has  never  been  turned  away  from 
your  Holiness  ;  and  I  have  never  ceased,  by  prayers 
and  sighs,  to  pray  to  God  for  your  prosperity,  and  for 
that  of  your  pontificate.  $ 

"  I  have  attacked,  it  is  true,  some  anti-christian 
doctrines,  and  I  have  inflicted  some  deep  wounds  on 
my  adversaries  on  account  of  their  impiety.  I  cannot 
regret  this,  for  I  have,  in  this,  Christ  for  an  example. 
Of  what  use  is  salt,  if  it  hath  lost  its  savour  1  or  the 
sword-blade,  if  it  doth  not  cut  111  Cursed  is  he  who 
doth  the  Lord's  work  coldly.  0  most  excellent  Leo, 
far  from  having  conceived  any  evil  design  against  you, 
I  wish  you  the  most  precious  blessings  for  all  eternity. 
One  thing  only  have  I  done.  I  have  defended  the 
word  of  truth.  I  am  ready  to  give  way  to  every  one, 
in  everything  ;  but  as  regards  that  Word,  I  will  not 
—  I  cannot  abandon  it.lf  He  who  expects  otherwise 
of  me,  mistakes  me. 

"  It  is  true  that  I  have  attacked  the  court  of  Rome  ; 
but  neither  yourself,  nor  any  man  upon  earth,  can  deny 
that  the  corruption  of  that  court  is  greater  than  that  of 

*  Totum  pondus  in  Eccium  versurus.     (L.  Epp.  i.  496.) 

f  Ut  nihil  videar  omittere  quod  in  me  ad  pacem  quoquo 
modo  facere  possit.     (L.  Epp.  i.  496.) 
Seckend.  p.  269. 

,  Ut  non  totis  viribus,  sedulis  atque  quantum  in  me  fuit  ge- 
mebuijdis  precibus  apud  Deum  qusesierim.  (L.  Epp.  i.  498.) 

|i  Quid  proderit  sal,  si  non  mordeat  'i  Quid  os  gladii,  si  non 
csedat?  (Ibid.  499.) 

If  Verbum  deserere  et  negare  nee  possum,  nee  volo.  (L. 
Epp.  i.  499.) 


LUTHER'S  LETTER  TO  THE  POPE. 


147 


Sodom  or  Gomorrah,  and  that  there  is  no  hope  left  of 
curing  its  impiety.  True,  I  have  been  filled  with  hor- 
ror, beholding  that,  in  your  name,  the  poor  of  Christ's 
flock  were  deceived.  I  have  opposed  this,  and  will 
continue  to  oppose  it ;  not  that  I  dream  of  effecting 
anything  in  this  Babylon  of  confusion,  against  the  op- 
position of  sycophants ;  but  I  am  debtor  to  my  brethren, 
that,  if  possible,  some  of  them  may  escape  these  ter- 
rible scourges. 

"  You  know  that  Rome,  for  many  years  past,  has 
inundated  the  world  with  everything  destructive  to 
soul  and  body.  The  Church  of  Rome,  formerly  pre- 
eminent for  sanctity,  is  become  a  den  of  thieves,  a 
scene  of  open  prostitution,  a  kingdom  of  death  and  hell,* 
so  that  Antichrist  himself,  if  he  were  to  appear,  could 
not  increase  its  iniquity.  All  this  is  as  clear  as  the 
light  of  day. 

"  And  you,  O  Leo,  are  all  this  while  as  a  lamb  in 
the  midst  of  wolves  ;  or  as  Daniel  in  the  den  of  lions ! 
Unaided,  how  can  you  resist  these  monsters'?  Perhaps 
there  may  be  three  or  four  cardinals  uniting  virtue  with 
learning.  But  what  are  these  among  so  many  !  You 
will  be  taken  off  by  poison,  even  before  you  are  able 
to  apply  a  remedy.  There  is  no  hope  for  Rome  ;  the 
anger  of  God  has  gone  forth,  and  will  consume  her.f 
She  hates  reproof,  and  dreads  reform ;  she  refuses  to 
restrain  the  madness  of  her  impiety,  and  it  may  be  said 
of  her,  as  of  her  mother :  '  We  would  have  healed 
Babylon,  but  she  is  not  healed  :  let  us  forsake  her  !'t 
Men  looked  to  you  and  your  cardinals  to  apply  the 
cure  to  all  this  ;  but  the  patient  laughs  at  her  physician, 
and  the  steed  will  not  answer  to  the  reins. 

"  Full  of  affection  for  you,  most  excellent  Leo,  I 
have  ever  regretted  that,  formed  as  you  are  for  a  better 
age,  you  have  been  raised  to  the  pontificate  at  such  a 
period  as  this.  Rome  is  not  worthy  of  you,  or  of  any 
who  resemble  you  ;  she  deserves  no  other  ruler  than 
Satan  himself.  And  truly  it  is  he,  rather  than  yourself, 
who  reigns  in  that  Babylon.  Would  to  God,  that, 
laying  aside  the  glory  which  your  enemies  extol  so 
highly,  you  could  exchange  it  for  a  simple  pastorship, 
or  subsist  on  your  paternal  inheritance :  for  none  but 
Judases  are  fit  for  such  state.  What  end,  then,  dear 
Leo  !  is  served  by  you  in  this  court  of  Rome  ;  unless 
it  be  that  execrable  men  should,  under  cover  of  your 
name  and  power,  ruin  men's  fortunes,  destroy  souls, 
multiply  crimes,  and  lord  it  over  the  faith,  truth,  and 
the  whole  Church  of  God  ?  O  Leo  !  Leo  !  you  are  the 
most  unfortunate  of  men,  and  you  sit  on  the  most  pe- 
rilous of  all  thrones !  I  tell  you  the  truth,  because  I 
wish  you  well. 

"  Is  it  not  true,  that  there  is  nothing  under  heaven 
more  cerrupt  and  hateful  than  the  Roman  court  1  It 
exceeds  the  very  Turks  in  vice  and  profligacy.  Once 
as  the  gate  of  heaven,  it  is  become  the  jaws  of  hell  it- 
self!  distending  and  kept  open  by  the  wrath  of  God,$ 
so  that  when  I  behold  so  many  poor  creatures  throw- 
ing themselves  into  it,  I  must  needs  cry  aloud  in  the 
midst  of  this  tempest,  that  some  may  be  saved  from 
the  frightful  abyss. 

"  This,  O  Leo,  my  Father,  is  the  reason  why  I  have 
inveighed  so  strongly  against  a  see  which  dispenses 
death  to  its  adherents.  Far  from  conspiring  against 
your  person,  I  have  felt  that  I  was  labouring  for  your 
safety,  in  boldly  attacking  the  prison,  or  rather  the  hell, 
in  which  you  are  confined.  To  do  the  utmost  to  de- 
stroy the  court  of  Rome,  is  but  to  discharge  your  own 

*  Facta  est  — spelunca  latronum  licentiosissima,  lupanar 
omnium  impudentissimum  regnum.peccati,  mortis  et  inferni. 
(Ibid.  500.) 

t  Actum  est  de  Romana  curia  :  pervenit  in  earn  ira  Dei  us- 
que in  finem.  (L.  Epp.  i.  600.)  J  Jeremiah,  li,  9. 

(,  Olim  janua  coeli,  nunc  patens  quoddam  os  inferni  et  tale  os 
quod  ,  urgente  ira  Dei,  obstrui  non  potcst.  (L.  Epp.  i.  601.) 


duty.  To  cover  it  with  shame,  is  to  honoor  Chrisl ; 
in  a  word,  to  be  a  Christian,  is  to  be  not  a  Roman. 

"  However,  seeing  that  I  was  losing  my  time  in  suc- 
couring the  See  of  Rome,  I  sent  to  her  my  letter  of 
divorce,  saying;  Farewell,  Rome,  'he  that  is  unjust, 
let  him  be  unjust  still ;  and  he  who  is  filthy,  let  him 
be  filthy  still  !'*  and  then,  in  silence  and  retirement, 
applied  myself  to  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures. 
Then  it  was  that  Satan  stirred  up  his  servant  John  Eck, 
a  great  enemy  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  challenge  me  again 
to  descend  into  the  arena.  He  sought  to  establish  his 
own  primacy,  not  the  primacy  of  Peter  !  and,  with  this 
purpose,  to  conquer  Luther,  and  lead  him  in  triumph 
to  Rome  :  upon  him  must  lay  the  blame  of  the  defeat 
which  has  covered  Rome  with  shame." 

Luther  here  relates  what  had  passed  between  him- 
self and  De  Vio,  Miltitz,  and  Eck ;  he  then  continues  : 

"  Now  then  I  come  to  you,  most  Holy  Father,  and, 
prostrate  at  your  feet,  entreat  you  to  restrain,  if  pos- 
sible, the  enemies  of  peace.  But  I  cannot  retract  my 
doctrines.  I  cannot  consent  that  rules  of  interpretation 
should  be  imposed  on  Holy  Scripture.  The  word  of 
God,  the  source  whence  all  liberty  flows,  must  be  left 
free.f 

"  O  Leo  !  my  Father !  do  not  listen  to  the  flatterers 
who  tell  you  that  you  you  are  not  a  mere  man,  but  a 
demi-God,  and  that  you  may  rightfully  command  what- 
ever you  please.  You  are  the  '  servant  of  servants,' 
and  the  place  where  you  are  seated  is,  of  all  places,  the 
most  dangerous  and  the  most  miserable.  Put  no  faith 
in  those  who  exalt  you,  but  rather  in  those  who  would 
humble  you.  I  may  be  bold  in  presuming  to  teach  so 
sublime  a  Majesty,  which  ought  to  instruct  all  men. 
But  1  see  the  dangers  which  surround  you  at  Rome  ; 
I  see  you  driven  first  one  way,  then  another,  on  the 
billows  of  a  raging  sea  ;  and  charity  obliges  me  to  warn 
you  of  your  danger,  and  urge  you  to  provide  for  your 
safety. 

"  That  I  may  not  appear  in  your  Holiness's  pre- 
sence empty-handed,  I  present  you  with  a  little  book 
which  has  been  dedicated  to  you,  and  which  will 
apprise  you  with  what  subjects  I  may  occupy  myself, 
in  case  your  flatterers  shall  permit  me.  It  is  but  a 
trifle  in  appearance,  yet  its  contents  are  important :  for 
it  comprises  a  summary  of  the  Christian's  life.  I  am 
poor,  and  have  nothing  more  to  offer  you  ;  and  indeed 
is  there  anything  you  have  need  of,  save  spiritual 
gifts'?  I  commend  myself  to  the  remembrance  of 
your  Holiness,  praying  that  the  Lord  Jesus  may  ever 
preserve  you  !  Amen  !" 

The  little  book  which  Luther  presented,  in  token  of 
respect,  to  the  Pope,  was  his  discourse  of  "  the  liberty 
of  the  Christian."  The  Reformer  shows,  incontro- 
vertibly,  in  this  treatise,  that  the  Christian,  without 
infringement  of  the  liberty  which  faith  gives  him,  may 
submit  to  every  external  ordinance,  in  a  spirit  of  liberty 
and  love.  Two  truths  are  the  basis  of  his  argument : 
"  A  Christian  is  free,  and  all  things  are  his.  A  Chris- 
tian is  a  servant,  and  subject  in  all  things  unto  all.  He 
is  free,  and  has  all  things  by  faith  ;  he  is  a  subject  and 
a  servant  in  love." 

He  first  shows  the  power  of  faith  in  rendering  the 
Christian  free :  "  Faith  unites  the  soul  with  Christ,  as 
a  spouse  with  her  husband,"  says  Luther  to  the  Pope. 
"  Everything  which  Christ  has,  becomes  the  property 
of  the  believing  soul :  everything  which  the  soul  has, 
becomes  the  property  of  Christ.  Christ  possesses  all 
blessings  and  eternal  life  ;  they  are  thenceforward  the 
property  of  the  soul.  The  soul  has  all  its  iniquities 

*  Revelation  of  St.  John,  ixii.  11. 

f  Leges  interpretandi  verbi  Dei  non  patior,  cum  oporteat 
verbum,  Dei  esse  non  alligatum,  quod  libertatem  docet.  (L. 
Epp.  i.  604.) 


148 


ARRIVAL  OF  THE  BULL  IN  GERMANY— THE  BULL  IN  GERMANY. 


and  sins :  they  are  thenceforward  borne  by  Christ.  A 
blessed  exchange  commences  :  Christ  who  is  both  Goc 
and  man,  Christ  who  has  never  sinned,  and  whose  holi 
ness  is  invincible,  Christ  the  Almighty  and  Eternal 
taking  to  himself  by  his  nuptial  ring  of  Faith,  all  the 
sins  of  the  believer,  those  sins  are  lost  and  abolished  in 
him  ;  for  no  sins  dwell  before  his  infinite  righteousness 
Thus  by  faith  the  believer's  soul  is  delivered  from  al 
sins,  and  clothed  with  the  eternal  righteousness  of  her 
bridegroom,  Christ.  O  happy  union  !  the  rich,  the 
noble,  the  holy  bridegroom  takes  in  marriage  his  poor, 
guilty,  and  despised  spouse,*"  delivers  her  from  every 
evil,  and  enriches  her  with  the  most  precious  blessings. 
— Christ,  a  king  and  a  priest,  shares  this  honour  and 
glory  with  all  Christians.  The  Christian  is  a  king,  and 
consequently  possesses  all  things  ;  he  is  a  priest,  and 
consequently  possesses  God.  And  it  is  faith,  not 
works,  which  brings  him  all  this  honour.  A  Christian 
is  free  from  all  things — above  all  things — faith  giving 
him  richly  of  all  things  !" 

In  the  second  part  of  his  discourse,  Luther  presents 
the  other  side  of  the  truth.  "  Although  the  Christian 
is  thus  made  free,  he  voluntarily  becomes  a  servant, 
that  he  may  act  towards  his  brethren  as  God  has  acted 
towards  himself  by  Jesus  Christ."  "  I  will  serve,"  he 
says,  "  freely,  joyfully,  gratuitously,  a  Father  who  has 
thus  shed  upon  me  all  the  abundance  of  his  blessings  : 
I  will  become  all  things  to  my  neighbour,  as  Christ  has 
become  all  things  for  me." — "  From  Faith,"  continues 
Luther,  "  flows  the  love  of  God  ;  from  love  flows  a  life 
of  liberty,  charity,  and  joy.  0  how  noble  and  exalted 
is  the  Christian's  life  !  but,  alas  !  none  know  it,  and 
none  preach  it.  By  faith  the  Christian  ascends  to  God  ; 
by  love  he  descends  to  man  ;  and  yet  abides  ever  in 
God.  Such  is  true  liberty,  a  liberty  which  as  much 
surpasses  every  other  as  the  heavens  are  high  above  the 
earth." 

This  was  the  work  with  which  Luther  accompanied 
his  letter  to  Leo  X. 

While  the  Reformer  was  thus  addressing  himself  for 
the  last  time  to  the  Roman  Pontiff,  the  bull  which  ex- 
communicated him  was  already  in  the  hands  of  the  dig- 
nitaries of  the  German  Church,  and  at  the  doors  of 
Luther's  dwelling.  The  Pope  had  commissioned  two 
high  functionaries  of  his  court,  Carracioli  and  Aleander, 
to  carry  it  to  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  desiring  him 
to  see  to  its  execution.  But  Eck  himself  appeared  in 
Saxony  as  herald  and  agent  in  the  great  effort  of  the 
Pontiff.  The  doctor  of  Ingolstadt  had  had  better  op- 
portunities than  any  other  of  knowing  the  force  of  Lu- 
ther's blows  ;  he  had  seen  the  danger,  and  had  stretch- 
ed forth  his  hand  to  support  the  tottering  power  of  Rome. 
He  imagined  himself  the  Atlas  destined  to  bear  up  on 
his  robust  shoulders  the  old  Roman  world,  which  was 
ready  to  crumble  into  ruin.  Elated  with  the  success 
of  his  journey  to  Rome,  proud  of  the  commission  which 
he  had  received  from  the  Sovereign  Pontiff,  and  of  the 
bull  he  bore  in  his  hands,  and  which  contained  the 
condemnation  of  his  unconquerable  rival,  his  present 
mission  was  in  his  eyes  a  greater  triumph  than  all  the 
victories  he  had  gained  in  Hungary,  in  Bavaria,  in 
Lombardy,  and  Saxony,  and  from  which  he  had  previ- 
ously derived  so  much  credit.  But  all  this  pride  was 
about  to  be  humbled.  By  entrusting  to  Eck  the  pub- 
lication of  the  bull,  the  Pope  had  committed  an  error 
which  was  destined  to  destroy  its  impression.  So 
marked  a  distinction,  granted  to  a  man  who  did  not 
hold  any  elevated  rank  in  the  Church,  offended  minds 
that  were  susceptible  of  offence.  The  Roman  Bishops, 
accustomed  to  receive  the  bulls  of  the  Pope  direct, 

*  1st  nun  das  nioht  eine  frohliche  Wirthschaft,  da  der  rei- 
che,  edle,  fromme  Brautigam  Christus,  das  arme,  verachtete, 
bose  Huhrleiu  zur  Ehe  nimmt.  ^L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  385.) 


took  it  amiss  that  the  present  bull  should  be  published 
in  their  dioceses  by  this  unexpected  Nuncio.  The 
nation,  which  had  ridiculed  the  pretended  victor  in  the 
conferences  at  Leipsic,  when  he  tied  to  Italy,  saw,  with 
astonishment  and  indignation,  the  same  person  reappear 
on  this  side  the  Alps,  armed  with  the  insignia  of  a 
pontifical  Nuncio,  and  with  power  to  crush  men  whom 
it  held  in  honour.  Luther  regarded  this  sentence, 
conveyed  to  him  by  his  implacable  adversary,  as  an 
act  of  personal  vindictiveness.  This  condemnation 
appeared  to  him,  says  Pallavicini,  as  the  concealed 
poniard  of  a  mortal  enemy,  and  not  the  lawful  axe  of 
a  Roman  lictor.*  Accordingly,  this  writing  was  con- 
sidered, not  as  the  bull  of  the  Sovereign  Pontiff,  but 
as  the  bull  of  Dr.  Eck.  Thus  the  force  of  the  blow 
was  broken  by  the  very  motives  which  had  provoked 
it. 

The  chancellor  of  Ingolstadt  had  repaired  in  haste 
to  Saxony.  It  was  there  that  he  had  given  battle,  it 
was  there  that  he  wished  to  parade  his  victory.  He 
succeeded  in  getting  the  bull  posted  up  at  Meissen,  at 
Merseburg,  and  at  Brandenburg,  toward  the  end  of 
September.  But  in  the  first  of  these  towns  it  was 
placarded  in  a  place  where  nobody  could  read  it,  and 
the  bishops  of  these  three  dioceses  were  in  no  haste 
to  publish  it.  His  great  protector,  Duke  George  him- 
self, forbade  the  council  of  Leipsic  to  make  it  public 
jefore  they  had  received  the  order  of  the  bishop  of 
Merseburg,  and  this  order  did  not  arrive  till  the  follow- 
'ng  year.  "  These  difficulties  are  but  for  form's  sake," 
thought  Eck  at  first ;  for  in  other  respects  everything 
seemed  to  smile  upon  him.  Duke  George  sent  him  a 
Tilt  cup  and  a  few  ducats ;  Miltitz  himself,  who  had 
lastened  to  Leipsic  on  hearing  that  his  rival  was  ar- 
rived, invited  him  to  dinner.  The  two  Legates  were 
"ond  of  the  luxuries  of  the  table,  and  Miltitz  thought 
that  he  could  not  have  a  better  opportunity  of  sound- 
ng  Dr.  Eck  than  over  their  wine.  "  When  he  had 
drunk  pretty  freely,"  says  the  Pope's  chamberlain,  "  he 
began  to  boast  above  measure  ;  he  displayed  his  bull, 
and  told  how  he  had  planned  to  bring  that  insolent  fel- 
"ow,  Martin,  to  reason."!  But  it  was  not  long  before 
;he  doctor  of  Ingolstadt  had  occasion  to  observe  that 
he  wind  was  turning.  A  great  change  had  been  ef- 
ected  at  Leipsic  within  a  year.f  On  St.  Michael's 
day,  some  students  posted,  in  ten  different  places, 
lacards  wherein  the  new  Nuncio  was  keenly  attacked. 
Taking  the  alarm,  he  sought  refuge  in  the  convent  of 
St.  Paul,  where  Tetzel  had  already  found  an  asylum, 
efused  all  visits,  and  obtained  from  the  prior  a  promise 
hat  his  juvenile  opponents  should  be  called  to  account. 
3ut  poor  Eck  gained  little  by  this.  The  students 
omposed  a  ballad  upon  him,  and  sung  it  in  the  streets. 
Cck  overheard  it  from  his  seclusion.  At  this  all  his 
ourage  vanished,  and  the  formidable  champion  trem- 
iled  in  every  limb.  Threatening  letters  poured  in  upon 
lim.  A  hundred  and  fifty  students  arrived  from  Wit- 
emberg,  loudly  exclaiming  against  the  Papal  envoy. 
The  poor  Nuncio  could  hold  out  no  longer. 

I  do  not  wish  him  to  be  killed, "§  said  Luther, 
'but  I  hope  his  designs  will  be  frustrated."  Eck 
uitted  his  retreat  by  night,  retired  clandestinely  from 
jeipsic,  and  sought  to  conceal  himself  at  Coburg. 
/liltitz,  who  relates  the  circumstance,  seemed  to  tri- 
imph  in  it  even  more  than  the  Reformer.  But  his  tri- 
imph  did  not  last  long.  The  chamberlain's  plans  of 

*  Nontanquam  a  securi  legitimi  lictoris,  sed  telo  infensissi- 
li  hostis.  (Pallavicini,  i.  74.) 

f  Nachdem  (writes  Miltitz)  er  nun  tapfer  getrunken  hatte, 
eng  er  gleich  an  trefflich  von  seiner  Ordre  zu  prahlen,  &c. 
Seckend.  p.  238.) 

Longe  aliam  faciem  et  mentem  Lipsiae  eum  invenire  quam 
perasset.     (L.  Epp.  i.  492.) 

&  Nollem  eum  occidi.  quanquam  optem  ejus  consilia  irritu 
icri.  (L.  Epp.  i.  492.) 


ULRIC  ZWINGLE— LUTHER'S  FEELINGS— THE   PIRCKHEIMER  FAMILY.       149 


conciliation  all  failed  ;  and  his  end  was  deplorable, 
having,  while  in  a  state  of  intoxication,  fallen  into  the 
Rhine,  at  Mentz. 

By  degrees  Eck  resumed  courage.  He  repaired  to 
Erfurth,  where  the  theologians  had  shown  more  than 
one  mark  of  their  jealousy  of  the  Wittemberg  doctor. 
He  required  that  this  bull  should  be  published  in  that 
city  ;  but  the  students  seized  the  copies,  tore  them  in 
pieces,  and  threw  them  into  the  river,  saying,  "  Since 
it  is  a  bubble,  let  us  see  it  float!"*  "Now,"  said 
Luther,  on  hearing  of  this,  "  the  paper  of  the  pope  is 
truly  a  bubble,  (bulla..y  Eck  did  not  dare  to  show 
himself  at  Wittemberg  ;  he  sent  the  bull  to  the  prior, 
menacing  him,  if  it  were  not  complied  with,  with  the 
ruin  of  the  university.  He  wrote  at  the  same  time  to 
Duke  John,  brother  and  colleague  of  Frederic.  «'  Do 
not  take  my  proceeding  amiss,"  said  he,  "  for  I  am 
contending  for  the  faith,  and  my  task  costs  me  much 
care  and  labour,  as  well  as  money. "t  The  prior  de- 
clared that,  not  having  received  a  letter  from  the  pope, 
accompanying  the  bull,  he  must  object  to  publish  it, 
and  referred  the  matter  to  the  opinion  of  the  lawyers. 
Such  was  the  reception  which  the  condemnation  of 
the  Reformer  met  with  from  the  learned  world 

While  the  bull  was  producing  this  violent  agitation 
in  the  minds  of  the  Germans,  a  solemn  voice  was 
raised  in  another  country  of  Europe.  One  who  dis- 
cerned the  extensive  schism  the  pope's  bull  would 
cause  in  the  church,  stood  forth  to  utter  a  word  of 
warning,  and  to  defend  the  Reformer.  This  was  the 
same  Swiss  priest  whom  we  have  already  mentioned, 
Ulric  Zwingle,  who,  without  any  communication  or 
previous  friendship  with  Luther,  put  forth  a  tract,  re- 
plete with  discretion  and  dignity,  and  the  earliest  of 
his  numerous  writings. t  A  fraternal  affection  seemed 
to  attract  him  toward  the  Doctor  of  Wittemberg. 
"  The  piety  of  the  pontiff,"  he  said,  "  requires  of  him 
that  he  should  joyfully  sacrifice  his  dearest  interests  to 
the  glory  of  Christ,  his  king,  and  to  the  general  peace 
of  the  church.  Nothing  is  more  derogatory  to  his  true 
dignity,  than  the  having  recourse  only  to  rewards  and 
terrors  for  its  defence.  The  writings  of  Luther  had 
not  even  been  read,  before  he  was  decried  among  the 
people  as  a  heretic,  a  schismatic,  and  even  as  anti- 
Christ  himself.  None  gave  him  warning,  no  one  re- 
futed him.  He  requested  a  discussion,  and  it  was 
thought  sufficient  to  condemn  him.  The  bull  that  has 
been  issued  against  him,  is  disapproved  even  by  those 
who  respect  the  pope's  authority  ;  for  they  discern,  in 
every  part  of  it,  traces  of  the  impotent  hatred  of  a  few 
monks,  and  not  the  mildness  of  a  pontiff,  who  should  be 
the  vicar  of  a  Saviour  full  of  charity.  It  is  universally 
acknowledged,  that  the  current  teaching  of  the  Gospel 
of  Christ  has  greatly  degenerated,  and  that  a  visible  and 
signal  restoration  of  laws  and  public  morals  is  requi- 
site $  Consult  all  men  of  learning  and  virtue,  and  it 
will  be  found,  that  the  more  perfect  their  sincerity 
and  their  attachment  to  the  truths  of  the  Gospel,  the 
less  are  they  stumbled  by  the  books  of  Luther.  There 
is  no  one  who  does  not  confess  that  these  books  have 
made  him  a  better  man, II  although,  perhaps,  there  may 
be  some  parts  not  to  be  approved.  Let  men  of  pure 

*  A  studiosis  discerpta  et  in  aquam  projccta,  dicentibus 
Bulla  est,  in  aquam  natet !  (Ibid.  5-20.) 

t  Mit  viel  Muhe,  Arbeit,  und  Kosten.  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii 
173.) 

\  Consilium  cujusdam  ex  animo  cupientis  esse  consultum 
et  j.ontificis  dignitati,  et  Christian®  religionis  tranquillitati 
(Zwinglii  Opera,  curant.  Schulero  et  Schulthessio,  iii.  1— 
6.) 

^  Mnltum  degenerasse  ab  ilia  sincera  Christi  evangelica 
doctrina,  adeo  ut  nemo  non  fateatur  opas  esse  publica  aliqxia 
et  insigni  legum  ac  morum  instauratione.  (Ibid.  3.) 

||  Nemo  non  fatetur  se  ex  illius  libris  factum  esse  meliorem 
(Ibid.  4.) 


doctrine,  and  of  acknowledged  probity,  be  selected  ;  let 
hree  princes,  above  all  suspicion,  the  emperor  Charles, 
he  King;  of  England,  and  the  King  of  Hungary,  ap- 
ooint  arbitrators  ;  and  let  the  arbitrators  read  the  writ- 
ngs  of  Luther  ;  let  him  be  heard  in  person,  and  let 
whatever  they  shall  determine  be  ratified.  "  NinrjadtTO 
/  TOV  XQIOTOV  KaitietaKal  uhr/deia  /"* 

This  suggestion,  proceeding  from  Switzerland,  was 
not  attended  to.  It  was  necessary  that  the  great  di- 
orce  should  take  place;  it  was  needful  that  Christen- 
dom should  be  rent  ;  the  remedy  for  the  evils  that  op- 
pressed it  was  to  be  discovered  in  its  very  wounds. 

And,  indeed,  what  importance  could  be  attached  to 
his  resistance,  on  the  part  of  a  few  students,  priors, 
and  priests  !  If  the  strong  arm  of  Charles  V.  should 
unite  with  the  power  of  the  pope,  will  they  not,  toge- 
her,  suffice  to  crush  all  these  scholars  and  grammari- 
ms]  Will  any  be  able  to  withstand  the  combined 
jower  of  the  Pontiff  of  Christendom  and  of  the  Emperor 
of  the  West  1  The  blow  is  struck,  Luther  is  excom- 
municated ;  the  Gospel  seems  lost !  At  this  awful 
crisis,  the  Reformer  does  not  disguise  from  himself 
the  greatness  of  the  danger  in  which  he  is  placed.  He 
ooks  for  support  from  above  ;  and  prepares  to  receive, 
as  from  the  hand  of  the  Lord  himself,  the  blow  which 
seems  about  to  crush  him.  The  thoughts  of  his  soul 
were  gathered  before  the  throne  of  God.  "  What  is 
about  to  happen,"  said  he,  "  I  know  not,  nor  do  I 
care  to  know,  assured  as  I  am  that  He  who  sits  on  the 
throne  of  heaven  has,  from  all  eternity,  foreseen  the 
Beginning,  the  progress,  and  the  end  of  this  affair. 
Let  the  blow  light  where  it  may,  I  am  without  fear. 
Not  so  much  as  a  leaf  falls  without  the  will  of  our  Fa- 
her.  How  much  rather  will  he  care  for  us]  It  is  a 
ight  thing  to  die  for  the  Word,  since  the  Word  which 
was  made  flesh  hath  himself  died.  If  we  die  with  him, 
we  shall  live  with  him  ;  and,  passing  through  that 
which  he  has  passed  through  before  us,  we  shall  be 
where  he  is,  and  dwell  with  him  for  ever."t  At  times, 
however,  Luther  was  unable  to  repress  his  contempt 
for  the  devices  of  his  enemies,  and  we  find  in  him  a 
recurrence  of  that  mixture  of  sublimity  and  irony  which 
haracterised  his  writings.  "  I  know  nothing  of  Eck's 
movements,"  said  he,  "  except  that  he  has  arrived 
with  a  long  beard,  a  long  bull,  and  a  long  purse  ;  but 
I  laugh  at  his  bull.":}: 

It  was  on  the  third  of  October  that  he  was  made 
acquainted  with  the  papal  rescript.  "  At  last,  then, 
this  Roman  bull  has  come  to  hand,"  said  he,  "  I  des- 
pise it,  and  resist  it  as  impious,  false,  and  in  every 
way  worthy  of  Eck.  It  is  Christ  himself  who  is  there- 
in condemned.  No  reasons  are  given  in  it.  I  am  cited 
to  appear,  not  that  I  may  be  heard,  but  that  I  may  re- 
cant. I  will  treat  it  as  a  forgery,  although  I  believe  it 
to  be  genuine.  Oh  !  that  Charles  the  Fifth  would  act 
as  a  man  !  Oh  !  that  for  the  love  of  Christ  he  would 
humble  these  demons. $  I  glory  in  the  prospect  of 
suffering  for  the  best  of  causes.  Already  I  feel  in  my 
heart  more  liberty  ;  for  I  now  know  that  the  pope  is 
anti-Christ,  and  that  his  chair  is  that  of  Satan  himself." 
It  was  not  merely  in  Saxony  that  the  thunders  of 
Rome  had  awakened  apprehension.  A  private  family 
in  Suabia,  which  had  been  neutral  in  the  contest,  found 
its  peace  suddenly  disturbed.  Bilibald  Pirckheimer, 
of  Nuremberg,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  men  of 
his  age,  who  had  lost  his  beloved  wife,  Crescentia, 
soon  after  their  union,  was  joined  in  the  closest  bonds 

*  "  May  the  doctrine  and  truth  of  Christ  gain  the  victory  I" 

|  Parum  est  nos  proverbo  mori,  cum  ipsum  incarnatum  pro 
nobis  prius  mortuum  sit.  (Ep.  i.  490) 

\  Venisse  eum  barbatum,  bullatum,  nummatum — Ridebo  et 
ego  bullam  sive  ampullam.  (Ibid.  488.) 

§  UtinamCarolus  vir  esset,  et  pro  Christo  hos  Satanas  ag- 
grederetur.  (Ibid.  494.) 


150       LUTHER— HIS  ANSWER-FRESH  MOVEMENTS— BONFIRE  OF  LOUVAIN. 


of  affection  with  his  two  young  sisters,  Charitas,  Ab- 
bess of  St.  Claire,  and  Clara,  a  nun  in  the  same  con- 
vent. These  two  young  ladies  served  God  in  solitude, 
and  divided  their  time  between  study,  attendance  on 
the  poor,  and  meditation  on  eternity.  Bilibald,  en- 
gaged in  the  business  of  the  state,  sought  relaxation 
from  public  duties,  in  the  correspondence  which  he  kept 
up  with  them.  They  were  learned,  read  Latin,  and 
studied  the  fathers  of  the  church  ;  but  nothing  was  so 
dear  to  them  as  the  holy  Scriptures.  They  had  never 
had  any  other  instructor  than  their  brother.  The  let- 
ters of  Charitas  are  distinguished  by  delicacy  and  ami- 
able feelings.  Full  of  tender  affection  for  Bilibald,  she 
dreaded  the  least  danger  that  approached  him.  Pirck- 
heimer,  to  re-assure  this  timid  spirit,  composed  a  dia- 
logue, between  Charitas  and  Veritas,  (Charity  and 
Truth,)  in  which  Veritas  endeavours  to  strengthen 
Charitas.*  Nothing  can  be  more  touching,  or  more 
fitted  to  console  an  affectionate  and  anxious  heart. 

What  must  have  been  the  dismay  of  Charitas,  when 
a  rumour  was  spread  that  the  name  of  Bilibald  was 
posted  up  immediately  under  the  Pope's  bull  in  con- 
junction with  the  name  of  Luther.  In  fact,  Eck,  urged 
on  by  blind  fury,  had  associated  with  Luther  six  of  the 
most  distinguished  persons  in  Germany ;  namely, 
Carlstadt,  Feldkirchen,  and  Egranus,  who  cared  very 
little  for  his  proceedings,  and  Adelmann,  Pirckheimer, 
and  his  friend  Spengler,  whose  position  as  public  func- 
tionaries rendered  them  peculiarly  sensitive  to  reproach. 
The  agitation  was  great  in  the  convent  of  St.  Claire. 
How  could  the  disgrace  of  Bilibald  be  endured  1 
Nothing  is  more  painful  to  relatives  than  such  trials. 
Pirckheimer  and  Spengler  wrote  to  the  Pope,  affirming 
that  they  adhered  to  the  doctrines  of  Luther  only  so 
far  as  they  were  in  conformity  with  the  Christian  faith. 
Revenge  and  anger  had  been  evil  counsellors  to  Eck. 
The  reputation  of  Bilibald  and  his  friends  brought  the 
bull  against  them  into  discredit ;  and  their  character 
and  their  numerous  connections  increased  the  general 
irritation. 

Luther  at  first  pretended  to  doubt  the  authenticity 
of  the  bull.  "  I  find,"  said  he,  in  his  first  writing  he 
put  forth,  "  that  Eck  has  brought  from  Rome  another 
bull,  which  is  so  like  himself,  that  it  might  be  named 
Doctor  Eck — so  full  is  it  of  falsehood  and  error.  He 
gives  out  that  it  is  the  Pope's  doing  ;  whereas  it  is  a 
mere  piece  of 'deception."  Having  alleged  reasons 
for  his  doubts,  Luther  ends  by  saying :  "  I  require  to 
see  with  my  own  eyes  the  seal,  and  strings,  the  very 
words  and  signature  of  the  bull,  in  a  word,  every  thing 
belonging  to  it ;  otherwise  I  will  not  care  one  straw 
for  these  outcries,"! 

But  no  one,  not  even  Luther  himself,  doubted  that 
the  bull  was  the  Pope's.  Germany  waited  to  see  what 
the  Reformer  would  do.  Would  he  stand  firm  ?  All 
eyes  were  turned  toward  Wittemberg.  Luther  did 
not  keep  them  long  in  suspense.  He  answered  by  a 
tremendous  discharge  of  artillery,  publishing,  on  the  4th 
of  November,  1520,  his  work  "  Against  the  Bull  of 
anti-Christ." 

"  What  numberless  errors  and  frauds,"  said  he, 
"  have  crept  in  among  the  poor  deluded  people  under 
cover  of  the  Church,  and  the  pretended  infallibility  of 
the  Pope  !  how  many  souls  have  thus  been  lost !  how 
much  blood  shed !  how  many  murders  committed ! 
how  many  kingdoms  laid  waste  !" 

"  I  can  discern  all  the  difference,"  said  he,  ironically, 
"  between  skill  and  malice,  and  I  care  very  little  for 
malice  so  unskilful.  To  burn  books  is  an  act  so  easy 
that  even  children  may  perform  it ;  how  much  more 


*  Pirkheimeiri  Opp.  Francof. 

t  Oder  nioht  era  Haarbreit  geben.    (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  323.) 


then  the  Holy  Father  and  his  illustrious  doctors.  *  One 
would  have  looked  for  some  more  cunning  move. 
Besides,  for  ought  I  care,  let  them  destroy  rny  works  ! 
I  desire  nothing  better ;  for  all  I  wanted  was  to  lead 
Christians  to  the  Bible,  that  they  might  afterward  throw 
away  my  writings.!  Great  God,  if  we  had  but  a  right 
understanding  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  what  need  would 
there  be  of  my  book  1  By  God's  grace,  I  am  free,  and 
bulls  can  neither  soothe  nor  intimidate  me.  My 
strength  and  my  consolation  are  in  a  place  where 
neither  men  nor  devils  can  ever  reach  them." 

The  tenth  proposition  of  Luther,  condemned  by  the 
Pope,  was  couched  in  these  terms :  "  A  man's  sins 
are  not  pardoned,  unless  he  believes  that  they  are  par- 
doned when  the  priest  pronounces  absolution."  The 
Pope,  by  condemning  this  proposition,  denied  that  faith 
was  necessary  in  the  sacrament.  "  They  pretend," 
exclaims  Luther,  "  that  we  are  not  to  believe  that  oui 
sins  are  pardoned,  when  we  are  absolved  by  the  priest. 
What  then  are  we  to  do  ?  Hear  now,  O  !  Christians, 
this  great  news  from  Rome.  Condemnation  is  pro- 
nounced against  that  article  of  which  we  profess  when 
we  say  '  I  believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Christian 
Church,  and  the  remission  of  sins.'  If  I  knew  that 
the  Pope  had  really  issued  this  bull  at  Rome,"  (which 
he  did  not  doubt,)  "and  that  it  had  not  been  forged 
by  that  arch-liar,  Eck,  I  would  proclaim  to  all  Christians, 
that  they  ought  to  hold  the  Pope  as  the  very  anti-Christ 
the  Scripture  speaks  of.  And  if  he  would  not  cease 
from  thus  publicly  proscribing  the  faith  of  the  Church, 
then  ...  let  the  temporal  sword  itself  be  opposed  to 
Aim,  rather  than  to  the  Turk  !  .  .  .  .  For  the  Turk 
leaves  us  free  to  believe,  but  the  Pope  forbids  it !" 

Whilst  Luther  was  speaking  with  so  much  energy, 
new  dangers  were  gathering.  The  plan  of  his  enemies 
was  to  procure  his  expulsion  from  Wittemberg.  If 
Luther  could  be  removed  from  Wittemberg,  Luther 
and  Wittemberg  would  both  be  ruined.  One  measure 
would  rid  Rome  of  her  heretic  doctor,  and  of  the  he- 
retical university.  Duke  George,  the  bishop  of  Merse- 
berg,  and  the  Leipsic  theologians  were  clandestinely 
labouring  for  this  result.t  Luther,  on  hearing  of  it,  re- 
marked, "  I  leave  the  matter  in  God's  hands. "§  These 
intrigues  were  not  altogether  without  effect.  Adrian, 
professor  of  Hebrew  at  Wittemberg,  suddenly  turned 
against  the  doctor.  It  required  considerable  firmness 
of  faith  to  bear  up  against  the  weight  of  the  Pope's 
bull.  There  are  some  who  will  go  only  a  certain 
length  with  truth.  Such  was  Adrian.  Awed  by  the 
Pope's  sentence,  he  quitted  Wittemberg,  and  repaired 
to  Leipsic,  to  Dr.  Eck. 

The  bull  was  beginning  to  take  effect.  The  word 
of  the  Pontiff  of  Christendom  still  carried  force.  Fire 
and  sword  had  long  since  taught  submission.  The 
stake  was  still  fixed,  and  the  faggots  piled  at  his  bid- 
ding. Everything  announced  that  an  awful  catastro- 
phe was  about  to  put  an  end  to  the  audacious  rebellion 
of  the'  Augustine  monk.  The  Pope's  nuncios  had 
made  urgent  representations  to  the  young  emperor: 
Charles  declared  that  he  would  protect  the  ancient 
religion  ;||  and  in  some  of  his  hereditary  states  scaffolds 
were  raised  for  the  purpose  of  committing  the  writings 
of  the  heretic  to  the  flames.  Ecclesiastical  dignitaries 
and  counsellors  of  state  attended  at  these  autos-da-fe. 
Those  flames  will  strike  terror  in  all  quarters,  said  the 
Roman  courtiers.  And  they  did,  indeed,  carry  fear 

*  So  ist  Bucher  verbrennen  so  Icicht,  dass  es  auch  Kinder 
konnen,  schweig  denn  der  heileige  Vater  Pabst . . .  (Ibid.  324.) 

t  la  Biblien  zu  fiihren,  dass  man  derselben  Verstand-crlang- 
te,  und  denn  meine  Biichlein  verschwinden  liess.  (Ibid.) 

Jrt  Wittemberga  pellerer.     (L.  Epp.  i.  519.) 
d  quod  in  manum  Dei  refero.     (laid.  520.) 
.  ministris  pontificiis  mature  prseoccupatus,  declaravit  se 
veterem  fidem  tutari.     (Pallavicini,  i.  80.) 


LUTHER'S  TRANQUILLITY— APPEAL  TO  A  COUNCIL— STRUGGLE. 


151 


fo  many  timid  and  superstitious  minds ;  but  even  in 
the  Emperor's  hereditary  states,  the  only  part  of  his 
dominions  where  the  clergy  ventured  to  carry  the  bull 
into  execution,  the  people,  and  sometimes  the  higher 
classes,  often  treated  these  pontificial  demonstrations 
with  ridicule  or  indignation.  "  Luther,"  said  the  doc- 
tors of  Louvain,  in  an  audience  with  Margaret,  who  at 
that  time  governed  the  Low  Countries,  "  Luther  is 
undermining  the  Christian  faith."  "Who  is  this  Lu- 
ther 1"  asked  the  princess.  "An  ignorant  monk." 
"  Well,"  replied  she,  "  do  you,  who  are  learned,  and 
so  many,  write  against  him.  The  world  will  surely 
believe  a  company  of  learned  men  rather  than  a  single 
monk  of  no  learning."  The  doctors  of  Louvain  pre- 
ferred an  easier  method.  They  raised  at  some  expense 
a  vast  pile  of  wood.  The  multitude  flocked  to  the 
place.  Students  and  citizens  were  seen  making  their 
way  through  the  crowd  in  great  haste,  carrying  under 
their  arms  huge  volumes  which  they  threw  into  the 
flames.  Their  apparent  zeal  edified  the  monks  and 
doctors  ;  but  the  stratagem  was  soon  after  discovered  : 
it  was  the  Sermones  discipuli,  Tartaret,  and  other 
scholastic  and  popish  books,  which  had  been  thrown 
into  the  fire,  instead  of  the  writings  of  Luther.* 

The  Count  of  Nassau,  viceroy  of  Holland,  in  reply 
to  the  solicitations  of  the  Dominicans,  to  be  permitted 
to  burn  the  obnoxious  books,  answered  :  "  Go  preach 
the  Gospel  as  purely  as  Luther,  and  you  will  have  no 
reason  to  complain  of  any  one."  Conversation  turn- 
ing on  the  Reformer  at  a  banquet,  at  which  the  great- 
est princes  of  the  empire  were  present,  the  lord  of 
Ravenstein  said  aloud  :  "  After  the  lapse  of  four  whole 
centuries,  a  single  Christian  man  has  stood  forth  at 
last,  and  him  the  pope  would  put  to  death."! 

Luther,  conscious  of  the  strength  of  his  cause,  pre- 
seved  his  composure  amid  all  the  tumult  excited  by 
the  bull.t  "  Were  it  not  for  your  exhortations,"  said 
ho  to  Spalatin,  "  I  should  hold  my  peace  ;  assured,  as 
I  am,  that  it  is  by  the  wisdom  and  the  power  of  God 
that  the  work  must  be  accomplished. "§  Here  was  the 
man  of  a  timid  spirit  urging  openness  of  speech,  while 
the  man  of  native  resolution  was  disposed  to  remain 
silent.  The  reason  was,  that  Luther  discerned  the 
operation  of  a  power  whose  agency  was  unnoticed  by 
his  friend.  "  Be  of  good  cheer,"  continued  the  Refor- 
mer, "  it  was  Christ  that  began  all  this — and  he  will 
bring  it  to  its  appointed  issue— even  though  my  lot  be 
banishment  and  death.  Jesus  Christ  is  here  present ; 
and  He  that  is  in  us,  is  mightier  than  he  that  is  in  the 
world."!! 

But  duty  now  requires  him  to  speak,  that  the  truth 
may  be  made  manifest.      Rome  has  assailed  him ;  it 
shall  be  seen  whether  he  shrinks  from  her  blows.    The 
pope  has  placed  him  under  the  ban  of  the  Church  ;  he 
will  place  the  pope  under  the  ban  of  Christianity.     The 
sentence  of  the  pontiff  has  hitherto  been  absolute :  he 
will  now  oppose  sentence  to  sentence,  and  the  world 
shall  perceive  which  is  the  word  of  power.    "  For  the 
peace  of  my  own  conscience,"  said  he,  "  I  am  resolved 
that  men  shall  no  longer  remain  ignorant  of  the  danger 
they  are  in  ;"f  and  forthwith  he  took  steps  to  renew 
his  appeal  to  a  general  Conncil.      To  appeal  from  the 
pope  to  a  council  was  in  itself  a  crime.    It  was,  there- 
fore, by  a  fresh  violation  of  the  pontifical  authority,  that 
Luther  undertook  to  exonerate  himself  from  the  offen- 
ces already  laid  to  his  charge. 
*  Seckend.  p.  289. 
I  Es  1st  in  vierhundert  Jahren  ein  christlicher  mann  auf- 
gcstanden,  den  will  dcr  Pabst  todt  haben.     (Seckend.  p.  288.' 
f  In  bullosis  ilhs  tumultibus.     (L.  Epp.  i.  519.) 
§  Rem  totam  Deo  committerem.  (Ibid.  521 .) 
I!  Christus  ista  ccepit,  ista  pirficiet,  etiam,  si've  extincto,  sive 
fugato.     (Ibid.  526.) 
V  Ut  meam  conscientiam  redimam.    L.  Epp.  i.  522. 


On  the  17th  of  November,  a  notary  and  five  wit- 
esses,  of  whom  Cruciger  was  one,  assembled  at  ten 
'clock  in  the  morning,  in  one  of  the  halls  of  the  Au- 
gustine convent,  in  which  Luther  resided.      There — 
he  public  functionary,  Sarctor  von  Eisleben,  being  in 
•eadiness  to  take  a  minute  of  his  protest — the  Refor- 
mer, in  a  solemn  tone  of  voice,  spoke  as  follows,  in 
he  presence  of  the  witnesses : 

"  Forasmuch  as  a  general  Council  of  the  Christian 
Dhurch  is  superior  to  the  pope,  especially  in  matters 
)f  faith  ; 

"  Forasmuch  as  the  authority  of  the  pope  is  not  su- 
)erior,  but  inferior,  to  Scripture,  and  he  has  no  right 
o  slay  Christ's  sheep,  or  cast  them  into  the  jaws  of 
he  wolf; 

"  I  Martin  Luther,  an  Augustine,  and  Doctor  of  the 
:Ioly  Scriptures  at  Wittemberg,  on  my  own  behalf,  and 
n  behalf  of  such  as  stand,  or  shall  stand,  on  my  side, 
do,  by  this  instrument,  appeal  from  his  Holiness,  Pope 
L,eo,  to  a  general  Christian  Council,  hereafter  to  be 
held. 

"  I  appeal  from  the  aforesaid  Pope  Leo  :  first,  as  an 
unjust,  hasty,  and  oppressive  judge,  who  condemns 

e  without  having  given  me  a  hearing,  and  without 
declaring  the  grounds  of  his  judgment : — secondly,  as 
a  heretic  and  apostate,  misguided,  hardened,  and  con- 
demned by  Holy  Writ,  who  requires  me  to  deny  the 
necessity  of  Christian  faith  in  the  use  of  the  sacra 
ments  :* — thirdly,  as  an  enemy,  an  Anti-Christ,  an  ad- 
versary of  the  Scriptures,  and  an  usurper  of  their  au- 
thority, f  who  presumes  to  set  up  his  own  decrees 
against  all  the  declarations  of  the  word  of  God : — 
"ourthly,  as  a  conternner,  a  calumniator,  a  blasphemer, 
of  the  Holy  Christian  Church,  and  of  every  free  Coun- 
cil, who  asserts  that  a  Council  is  nothing  in  itself. 

"  Wherefore,  I  most  humbly  beseech  the  most  se- 
rene, illustrious,  excellent,  wise,  and  worthy  lords, 
Charles,  the  Roman  Emperor,  the  electors,  princes, 
counts,  barons,  knights,  gentlemen,  cities,  and  muni- 
cipalities of  the  whole  German  nation,  to  adhere  to  this 
my  protest,  and  unite  with  me  to  resist  the  Anti-Chris- 
tian proceedings  of  the  pope — for  God's  glory,  in  de- 
fence of  the  Church  and  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  to 
uphold  the  free  Councils  of  Christendom  ;  and  Christ, 
our  Saviour,  will  richly  reward  them  by  his  everlasting 
grace.  But  if  there  be  any  who  set  my  entreaties  at 
naught,  preferring  obedience,  to  the  pope,  an  impious 
man — rather  than  to  obey  God,+  I  do  hereby  disavow 
all  responsibility  on  their  account,  having  given  a  faith- 
ful warning  to  their  consciences ;  and  I  leave  them  to 
the  final  judgment  of  God,  together  with  the  pope  and 
all  his  adherents." 

Such  was  Luther's  instrument  of  divorce  ;  such  was 
his  answer  to  the  Pontiffs  bull.  It  was  a  deeply  mo- 
mentous declaration.  The  charges  which  he  brought 
against  the  pope  were  of  the  gravest  character,  nor 
were  they  lightly  preferred.  The  protest  was  circu- 
lated throughout  the  whole  of  Germany,  and  found  its 
way  into  most  of  the  courts  of  Christendom. 

Luther,  however,  though  his  recent  act  might  have 
seemed  the  very  extremity  of  daring,  had  another  and 
a  still  bolder  measure  in  contemplation.  He  was  de- 
termined that  in  nothing  would  he  be  behind  Rome. 
The  monk  of  Wittemberg  shall  do  all  that  the  Sove- 
reign Pontiff  ventures  to  do.  Sentence  against  sen- 
tence he  has  already  pronounced  ;  he  will  now  kindle 

*  Ab  erroneo,  indurato,  per  Scripturas  sanctas  damnatoi 
haereticp,  et  apostate.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  ii.  60.)  See  also,  L.  Opp. 
(L.)  xvii.  332.  The  German  copy  has  a  few  paragraphs  which 
are  not  in  the  Latin. 

t  Oppressore  totius  Sacra  Scripturae.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  ii.  50.) 
See  also,  L,  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  332. 

\  Et  papae,  impio  homini,  plus  quanx  Deo  obediant.  L.  Opp. 
(L.)  xvii.  332. 


152 


BURNING  OF  THE  POPE'S  BULI,— LUTHER  AND  THE  ACADEMY. 


pile  for  pile.  The  descendant  of  the  Medici,  and  the 
miner's  son,  have  encountered  each  other  in  the  lists 
breast  to  breast — and  while  that  conflict  continues,  with 
which  the  world  is  destined  to  resound,  not  a  blow 
shall  be  struck  by  the  one  combatant  that  shall  not  be 
returned  by  the  other.  On  the  10th  of  December,  a 
placard  was  affixed  to  the  walls  of  the  university  of 
Wittemberg.  It  contained  an  invitation  to  the  pro- 
fessors and  students  to  repair,  at  the  hour  of  nine  in 
the  morning,  to  the  east  gate,  beside  the  Holy  Cross. 
A  great  number  of  doctors  and  youths  assembled,  and 
Luther,  putting  himself  at  their  head,  led  the  proces- 
sion to  the  appointed  spot.  How  many  piles  had  Rome 
kindled  during  the  ages  of  her  domination:  Luther 
was  now  to  make  a  better  application  of  the  great  Ro- 
mish principle.  It  was  only  of  some  musty  writings 
that  he  sought  to  be  rid,  and  fire,  he  thought,  could 
never  be  employed  to  better  purpose.  A  scaffold  had 
already  been  erected.  One  of  the  oldest  among  the 
Masters  of  Arts  soon  set  fire  to  it.  As  the  flames 
arose,  Luther  drew  nigh,  and  cast  into  the  midst  of 
them  the  Canon  Law,  the  Decretals,  the  Clementines, 
the  Extravagants  of  the  Popes,  and  a  portion  of  the 
works  of  Eck  and  of  Emser.  When  these  books  had 
been  reduced  to  ashes,  Luther  took  the  Pop's  bull  in 
his  hand,  held  it  up,  and  said  aloud  :  "  Since  thou  hast 
afflicted  the  Lord's  Holy  One,  may  fire  unquenchable 
afflict  and  consume  thee!"  and  thereupon  he  threw  it 
into  the  flames.  He  then,  with  much  composure,  bent 
his  step  toward  the  city,  and  the  crowd  of  doctors, 
professors,  and  students,  with  loud  expressions  of  ap- 
plause, returned  to  Wittemberg  in  his  train.  "  The 
Decretals,"  said  Luther,  "  are  like  a  body  whose  face 
is  as  fair  as  a  virgin's ;  but  its  limbs  are  forceful  as 
those  of  the  lion,  and  its  tail  is  that  of  the  wily  serpent 
In  all  the  papal  laws,  there  is  not  a  single  word  to  teach 
us  what  Jesus  Christ  truly  is."* — "  My  enemies,"  he 
said  again,  "by  burning  my  books,  may  have  dispar- 
aged the  truth  in  the  minds  of  the  common  people,  and 
occasioned  the  loss  of  souls ;  for  that  reason,  I  have 
burned  their  books  in  my  turn.  This  is  a  mighty  strug- 
gle but  just  begun.  Hitherto  I  have  been  only  jesting 
with  the  pope.  I  entered  upon  this  work  in  the  name 
of  God — He  will  bring  it  to  a  close  without  my  aid,  by 
his  own  power.  If  they  dare  to  burn  my  books — of 
which,  it  is  no  vain  boast  to  say,  that  they  contain 
more  of  the  Gospel  than  all  the  pope's  books  put  to- 
gether— I  may,  with  far  better  reason,  burn  theirs, 
which  are  wholly  worthless." 

Had  Luther  commenced  the  Reformation  by  an  act 
like  this,  the  consequences  might  have  been  deplorable. 
Fanaticism  might  have  been  awakened  by  it,  and  the 
Church  forced  into  a  career  of  disorder  and  violence. 
But  in  the  first  stages  of  his  task,  the  Reformer  had 
been  satisfied  with  calmly  expounding  the  doctrines  of 
Scripture.  The  foundations  of  the  edifice  had  been 
cautiously  and  securely  laid.  In  the:  present  posture 
of  affairs,  a  vigorous  blow,  such  as  he  had  just  struck, 
might  not  merely  be  productive  of  no  ill  effect ;  it 
might  probably  hasten  the  moment  when  Christianity 
should  rejoice  over  the  downfall  of  the  power,  by  which 
the  Christian  world  had  so  long  been  held  in  thraldom. 

Luther,  by  this  act,  distinctly  announced  his  sepa- 
ration from  the  pope  and  the  Papal  Church.  After  his 
letter  to  Leo,  such  an  announcement  might,  in  his  es- 
timation, be  necessary.  He  now  accepted  the  excom- 
munication which  Rome  had  pronounced.  He  pro- 
claimed in  the  face  of  Christendom  that,  between  him 
and  the  pope,  there  was  war  even  to  the  death.  Like 
tho  Roman  who  burned  the  vessels  that  had  conveyed 
him  to  the  enemy's  shore,  he  left  himself  no  resource, 
bat  to  advance  and  offer  battle. 

•  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  1493—4495 


We  have  seen  how  he  re-entered  Wittemberg.  On 
.he  following  morning,  the  hall  of  the  academy  was 
more  than  usually  crowded.  The  minds  of  those  that 
composed  the  assembly  had  been  excited,  a  deep  so- 
lemnity prevailed,  the  address  which  the  doctqr  was 
to  deliver  was  the  subject  of  earnest  expectation.  He 
proceeded  with  a  portion  of  his  commentary  upon  the 
Psalms,  which  he  had  begun  in  the  month  of  March, 
of  the  preceding  year.  Having  finished  his  lecture,  he 
paused  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  he  said  with  great 
vivacity :  "  Be  on  your  guard  against  the  laws  and 
statutes  of  the  pope.  I  have  burned  the  Decretals,  but 
that  is  mere  child's  play.  It  is  time,  and  more  than 
time,  that  the  Pope  himself  were  burned — I  mean," 
he  immediately  subjoined — the  papal  chair,  with  all  its 
false  doctrines,  and  all  its  abominations."  Assuming 
then  a  more  solemn  tone :  "  If  you  do  not,  with  your 
whole  hearts,  resist  the  impious  usurpation  of  the  pope, 
you  cannot  be  saved.  Whosoever  takes  pleasure  in 
the  popish  doctrine  and  worship  will  be  lost  to  all  eter- 
nity in  the  world  to  come."* 

"  True,"  added  he,  "  if  we  reject  that  false  creed, 
we  must  expect  no  less  than  to  encounter  every  kind 
of  danger — even  to  the  loss  of  life.  But  far  better  it 
is,  to  expose  ourselves  to  all  the  perils  that  this  present 
world  can  assail  us  with,  than  to  hold  our  peace  !  So 
long  as  my  life  shall  last,  I,  for  my  part,  will  never 
cease  to  warn  my  brethren  of  the  wound  and  plague 
of  Babylon,  lest  any  of  those  who  now  walk  with  us 
should  slide  back,  like  the  rest,  into  the  pit  of  hell." 

It  is  difficult  to  conceive  the  effect  which  was  pro- 
duced upon  the  auditory  by  this  discourse,  with  the 
energy  of  which  we  ourselves  cannot  fail  to  be  struck. 
"  Not  a  man  among  us,"  adds  the  candid  student,  to 
whom  we  are  indebted  for  its  preservation,  "  unless  he 
be  a  senseless  block  (as  all  the  Papists  are,"  he  remarks 
in  a  parenthesis) — "  not  a  man  among  us  doubts  that 
this  is  the  very  truth.  It  is  evident  to  all  the  faithful, 
that  Doctor  Luther  is  an  angel  of  the  living  God.t 
commissioned  to  lead  back  the  sheep  of  Christ's  flock 
to  the  wholesome  pastures  from  which  we  have  wan- 
dered." 

This  discourse,  and  the  act  which  preceded  it,  mark 
an  important  epoch  in  the  Reformation.  In  his  heart, 
Luther  had  been  alienated  from  the  pope  by  the  con- 
troversy at  Leipsic.  But,  at  the  moment  when  ho 
burned  the  bull,  he  declared  in  the  most  explicit  man- 
ner his  separation  from  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  and  the 
Roman  Church,  and  his  adherence  to  the  Church  uni- 
versal, as  founded  by  the  apostles  of  Jesus  Christ.  At 
the  east  gate  of  Wittemberg,  he  kindled  a  flame  which 
three  hnndred  years  have  not,  yet  extinguished. 

"  The  pope,"  said  he,  "  has  three  crowns  ;  I  will 
show  you  why  :  the  first  is  against  God,  for  he  abro- 
gates religion  ;  the  second  against  the  emperor,  for  he 
abrogates  the  secular  power  ;  the  third  against  society 
at  large,  for  he  abrogates  marriage."!  When  he  was 
accused  of  too  much  violence  in  his  opposition  to  po- 
pery ;  "  Oh  !"  he  replied,  •«  were  it  mine  to  choose, 
my  testimony  against  it  should  be  no  other  than  tho 
voice  of  thunder,  and  every  word  should  fall  like  the 
fiery  bolt."$ 

This  undaunted  spirit  was  rapidly  communicated  to 
Luther's  friends  and  fellow-countrymen.  The  nation 
rallied  round  him.  Melancthon,  about  this  time,  ad- 
dressed to  the  states  of  the  empire  a  discourse,  which, 
for  elegance  of  style  and  strength  of  reasoning,  is  wor- 
thy of  Its  amiable  author.  It  was  an  answer  to  a  book 

*  Muss  ewig  in  jenem  Lcben  verlohren  seyn.  L.  Opp.  (L.) 
xvii.  333. 

}  Lutherum  esse  Dei  viventis  angelum  qui  palabundas 
Christi  oves  pascat.  (L.  Opp.  lot.  ii  123.) 

t  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  1313. 

$  Und  ein  jeglich  Wort  einc  Donneraxt  ware.    (Ibid.  1360.) 


MELANCTHON  TO  THE  STATES— LUTHER  ENCOURAGES  HIS  FRIENDS.        153 


attributed  to  Emser,  but  published  under  the  name  of 
the  Roman  theologian,  Rhadinus.  Never  had  Luthe: 
himself  spoken  with  greater  energy  ;  and  yet,  in  Me 
lancthon's  composition,  there  is  a  grace  superadded 
which  wins  its  way  to  the  heart. 

After  proving,  by  texts  quoted  from  Scripture,  tha 
the  pope  is  not  superior  to  other  bishops,  "  What  hin- 
ders us,"  he  asks  of  the  states,  "  from  depriving  the 
pope  of  the  authority  with  which  we  have  invested  him  T 
It  is  a  matter  of  small  concern  to  Luther  that  our 
wealth,  the  treasure  of  Europe,  is  sent  to  Rome.  What 
Ejrieves  him,  and  grieves  us,  also,  is,  that  the  papal 
laws  and  pontifical  dominion,  entail  upon  the  souls  of 
men,  not  jeopardy  merely,  but  absolute  ruin.  Every 
man  may  judge  for  himself,  whether  or  not  it  behoves 
him  to  dedicate  his  money  to  the  maintenance  of  Rom- 
ish luxury  ;  but  to  form  a  judgment  on  matters  of  re- 
ligion and  the  holy  mysteries,  is  beyond  the  capacity 
of  the  multitude.  On  this  ground  does  Luther  appeal 
to  your  faith,  and  to  your  zeal ;  and  every  pious  man, 
if  not  openly,  at  least,  by  secret  groans  and  sighs,  joins 
in  the  same  invocation.  Recollect  that  you  are  Chris- 
tians, princes  of  a  Christian  nation,  and  hasten  to 
rescue  the  piteous  wreck  of  Christianity  from  the  ty- 
rannous hand  of  anti-Christ.  They  who  would  persuade 
you  that  you  have  no  jurisdiction  over  these  priests, 
are  deceiving  you  grossly.  Let  the  same  spirit  that 
animated  Jehu  against  the  priests  of  Baal,  urge  you  by 
that  memorable  example,  to  crush  the  Romish  supersti- 
tion— a  superstition  more  detestable,  by  far,  than  the 
idolatry  of  Baal  itself."!  Such  was  the  language  in 
which  the  mild  Melancthon  addressed  the  princes  of 
Germany. 

Here  and  there  a  cry  of  alarm  was  raised  among  the 
friends  of  the  Reformation.  Men  of  feeble  character, 
ever  inclined  to  concession  and  compromise,  and  Stau- 
pitz,  the  foremost  of  this  class,  gave  utterance  to  sen- 
timents of  deep  concern.  "  All  that  has  been  done 
hitherto,"  said  Luther  to  him,  "  has  been  mere  play. 
Remember  what  yourself  said — if  God  were  not  the 
author  of  all  this,  it  never  could  have  taken  place. 
The  tumult  is  continually  growing  more  and  more  tu- 
multuous ;  nor  do  I  think  that  it  will  ever  be  appeased 
till  the  last  day."J  This  was  Luther's  method  of  encou- 
raging the  timorous.  Three  centuries  have  passed 
away,  and  the  tumult  is  not  appeased  yet. 

"  The  papacy,"  continued  he,  "  has  ceased  to  be 
what  it  was  yesterday,  and  the  day  before.  Excom- 
municate me,  and  burn  my  writings,  it  may — ay,  and 
put  me  to  death  ! — but  that  which  is  now  going  for- 
ward it  can  never  stop.  We  stand  on  the  very  thresh- 
old of  some  wonderful  dispensation.^  When  I  burned 
the  bull,  it  was  with  inward  fear  and  trembling ;  but  I 
look  back  upon  that  act  with  more  pleasure  than  upon 
any  passage  of  my  life."|| 

Here  we  cannot  but  pause,  delighted  to  trace  the 
image  of  the  future,  so  vividly  impressed  on  the  mighty 
mind  of  the  Reformer.  "  Oh,  my  father,"  says  he  to 
Staupitz,  in  the  conclusion  of  his  letter,  "  pray  for  the 
Word  of  God,  and  for  me !  I  am  hurried  along  by 
these  billows,  and  well-nigh  overwhelmed.  "^T 

On  every  side,  then,  the  battle  is  now  begun.  The 
combatants  have  flung  away  their  scabbards.  The 
Word  of  God,  has  reclaimed  its  rightful  authority,  and 

*  Quid  obstat  quominus  papas  quad  dedimus  jus  adimanus  ? 
(Corp.  Reform,  i.  337.) 

jUt  extinguaris  illam  multo  tetriorem  Baalis  idololatria 
Romanam  superstitionem.  (Corp,  Ref.  i.  337.) 

\  Tumultus  egregie  tumultuatur,  ut  nisi  extreme  die  sedari 
mihi  posse  non  videator.  (L.  Epp.  i.  541.) 

{)  Omnio  aliquid  portenti  praeforibus  est.  (L.  Epp.  i.  643.) 
What  a  presentiment  of  the  future  ! 

)|  .  .  .  primum  trepidus  etorans,  sed  nunc  laetior  quam  ullo 
totius  vitae  meas  facto.  (Ibid.) 

f  Ego  fluctibus  his  rapior  et  volvor.    (Ibid.) 


the  sentence  of  deposition  has  gone  forth  against  him 
who  has  usurped  the  place  of  God.  The  agitation  per- 
vades every  class  of  the  community.  In  no  age  has 
there  been  a  lack  of  selfish  men,  who  would  gladly  al- 
low mankind  to  slumber  on,  in  error  and  corruption  ; 
but  those  whose  hearts  are  enlarged,  however  timid 
by  natural  constitution,  think  far  differently.  "  We 
are  well  aware,"  says  the  mild  and  moderate  Melanc- 
thon, "  that  statesmen  are  averse  from  all  innovation  ; 
and  it  must  be  confessed  that,  in  this  scene  of  mourn- 
ful confusion,  which  we  call  human  life,  controversies, 
however  just  the  grounds  from  which  they  spring,  are 
always  chargeable  with  some  measure  of  evil.  Never- 
theless, it  is  necessary  that  God's  word  and  his  com- 
mandments should  have  preference  in  the  church,  over 
every  earthly  interest.*  The  everlasting  anger  of  God 
is  denounced  against  such  as  endeavour  to  suppress 
the  truth.  It  was  Luther's  duty,  therefore — a  Chris- 
tian duty,  from  which  he  could  in  no  way  escape — 
more  especially  as  he  held  the  office  of  a  teacher  in  the 
church — to  reprove  those  pernicious  errors,  which  un- 
principled men  were  so  shamefully  engaged  in  diffus- 
ing. If  these  disputes  engender  many  evils,  as,  to  my 
great  grief,"  he  adds,  "  I  perceive  that  they  do,  the 
fault  rests  with  those  who  first  propagated  error,  and 
with  those  who  now,  with  diabolical  malignity,  attempt 
to  uphold  it." 

But  this  was  not  the  opinion  entertained  by  all.  Lu- 
ther was  overwhelmed  with  reproaches  ;  the  storm 
burst  upon  him  from  every  quarter.  "He  stands 
alone !"  said  some  ;  "  He  teaches  new  doctrines  !" 
said  others. 

"  Who  knows,"  replied  Luther,  deeply  conscious  of 
the  vocation  he  had  received  from  on  high,  "  who 
knows  whether  God  has  not  called  and  chosen  me  for 
this  very  purpose  ;t  and  whether  they  who  despise  me, 
have  not  reason  to  fear  lest  they  be  found  despisers  of 
God  himself?  Moses  was  alone,  when  the  Israelites 
were  led  out  of  Egypt ;  Elijah  was  alone,  in  the  time 
of  King  Ahab  ;  Ezekiel  was  alone,  in  Babylon.  God 
has  never  chosen,  for  his  prophet,  either  the  High-priest 
or  any  other  person  of  exalted  rank  :  He  has  generally 
chosen  men  of  a  mean  and  low  condition — in  the  in- 
stance of  Amos,  even  a  simple  shepherd.  The  saints 
n  every  age  have  been  called  upon  to  rebuke  the  great 
of  this  world — kings  and  princes — priests  and  scholars 
— and  to  fulfil  their  office  at  the  peril  of  their  lives. 
Has  it  not  been  thus  under  the  New  Testament  dis- 
pensation ?  Ambrose,  in  his  time,  stood  alone  ;  after 
trim,  Jerome  was  alone ;  later  still,  Augustine  was 
alone.  I  say  not  that  I  am  a  prophet  ;t  but  I  say  that 
they  have  the  more  reason  to  fear,  because  I  am  alone, 
and  they  are  many.  Of  this  I  am  sure,  that  the  Word 
of  God  is  with  me,  and  that  it  is  not  with  them." 

'  It  is  asserted,  also,"  continues  he,  "  that  I  am 
bringing  forward  novelties,  and  that  it  is  impossible  to 
believe  that  all  other  teachers,  for  so  long  a  time,  have 
been  in  error. 

*  No — these  are  not  novelties  that  I  preach  !  but  I 
affirm  that  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  have  been  lost 
sight  of  by  those  whose  special  duty  it  was  to  preserve 
them — by  the  learned — by  the  bishops.  I  doubt  not, 
indeed,  that  the  truth  has  still  found  an  abode  in  somo 
rew  hearts,  were  it  only  with  infants  in  the  cradle. $ 
Poor  husbandmen,  and  simple  children,  in  these  days, 
understand  more  of  Jesus  Christ,  than  the  pope,  the 
bishops,  and  the  doctors. 

*  Sed  tamen  in  Ecclesia  necesse  est  anteferri  mandatumDei 
mnibus  rebus  humanis.  (Melancth.  vit.  Lutheri.) 

f  Wer  weiss  ob  mich  Gott  dazu  berufen  und  erwaehlt  hat. 
(L,  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  338.) 

\  Ich  sage  nicht  das  ich  ein  Prophet  sey.    (Ibid.) 

\  Und  sollten's  eitel  Kinder  in  der  Wiege  seyn  (L  Opp 
(L.)  xvii.  339.) 


154    THE  BIBLE  AND  THE  DOCTORS— RETRACTION— ALEANDER,  THE  NUNCIO. 


I  am  accused  of  rejecting  the  holy  doctors  of  the 
church.  I  reject  them  not ;  but  since  those  doctors  all 
labour  to  prove  what  they  write  by  the  holy  Scriptures, 
it  follows  that  the  Scriptures  must  be  clearer  and  more 
conclusive  than  their  writings.  Who  would  ever  think 
of  proving  what  is  in  itself  obscure,  by  the  help  of 
something  obscurer  still  ?  Necessity,  therefore,  obliges 
us  to  have  recourse  to  the  Bible,  as  all  the  doctors 
have  done  ;  and  to  test  their  writings  by  it — for  the 
Bible  is  our  only  rule  and  standard. 

"  But,  it  is  further  objected,  that  men  high  in  station 
pursue  me  with  their  censures.  What  then  ! — do  not 
the  Scriptures  clearly  show,  that  they  who  persecute 
are  generally  in  the  wrong,  and  they  who  suffer  perse- 
cution in  the  right — that  the  majority  has  always  been 
on  the  side  of  falsehood,  and  the  minority  only  on  the 
side  of  truth  ?  It  is  the  fate  of  truth  to  occasion  an 
outcry.''* 

Luther  then  passes  under  review  the  various  propo- 
sitions which  had  been  condemned  by  the  bull,  as  he- 
retical ;  and  demonstrates  their  truth  by  arguments 
drawn  from  holy  Scripture.  With  how  much  force,  in 
particular,  does  he  maintain  the  doctrine  of  grace  ! 

"  What !"  says  he,  "  shall  we  say,  that  nature  ante- 
cedently to,  and  unassisted  by,  grace,  can  hate  sin — 
flee  from  sin,  and  repent  of  it ;  while  yet,  after  grace 
vouchsafed,  that  same  nature  loves  sin,  seeks  it,  yearns 
after  it,  and  never  ceases  to  strive  against  grace,  and 
oppose  it — this  being  the  burthen  under  which  the 
saints  are  continually  groaning.  It  is  as  though  you 
were  to  tell  me  that  some  sturdy  tree,  which  my  ut- 
most efforts  could  never  bend,  would  bend  of  its  own 
accord,  were  it  left  alone  ;  or  that  some  torrent,  which 
dykes  and  dams  were  ineffectual  to  restrain,  would 
check  its  own  course  if  all  these  impediments  were 
removed.  NO  !  never  shall  we  attain  to  repentance 
by  considering  sin  or  its  consequences,  but  only  by  fix- 
ing our  contemplation  on  the  wounded  Saviour,  and  on 
the  love  of  which  his  wounds  are  the  token,  f  The 
knowledge  of  sin  must  proceed  from  repentance — not 
repentance  from  the  knowledge  of  sin.  That  knowledge 
is  the  fruit — repentance  the  tree.  In  our  country,  the 
fruit  grows  on  the  tree,  but  in  the  domain  of  his  Holi- 
ness, it  would  seem,  that  the  tree  grows  on  the  fruit  !" 

The  intrepid  teacher,  though  protesting,  yet  retracts 
some  of  his  propositions.  Notwithstanding  all  his  pro- 
testations, Luther  retracts.  But  our  surprise  will  cease, 
when  we  learn  the  manner  of  his  doing  this.  After 
citing  the  four  propositions,  regarding  indulgences, 
which  had  been  condemned  by  the  bull,t  he  simply 
adds: 

"  In  deference  to  the  holy  and  learned  bull,  I  retract 
all  that  I  ever  advanced  on  the  subject  of  indulgences. 
If  my  books  deserved  to  be  burned,  it  was  because 
they  contained  certain  concessions  to  the  pope,  in  re- 
spect to  that  doctrine  of  indulgences  ;  on  which  ac- 
count I  myself  now  condemn  them  to  the  flames." 

Then  follows  another  retraction,  in  respect  to  John 
Huss: 

"  I  now  say,  not  that  some  of  the  articles,  but  that 
all  the  articles  propounded  by  John  Huss,  are  altoge- 
ther orthodox.  The  pope,  in  condemning  Huss,  has 
condemned  the  Gospel.  I  have  gone  five  times  as  far 
as  he,  and  yet,  I  greatly  fear,  I  have  not  gone  far 
enough.  Huss  only  says,  that  a  wicked  pope  is  not  a 
member  of  the  Christian  church  ;  I,  on  the  other  hand, 
were  I  now  to  see  St.  Peter  himself  seated  in  the  Ro- 
man chair,  would  deny  that  he  was  pope  by  God's  ap- 
pointment." 

*  Wahrheit  hat  allezeit  rumort.    (Ibid.  340.) 

f  Man  soil  zuvor  Christum  in  seine  Wunden  sehen,  und 
aus  denselben  seine  Liebe  gegen  uns.  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii, 
351.) 

J  The  19th  to  the  22d.    (Ibid.) 


The  powerful  language  of  the  Reformer  sunk  deep 
into  men's  minds,  and  prepared  them  for  enfranchise- 
ment. Every  word  was  a  living  spark  helping  to  spread 
the  flame  through  the  whole  nation.  But  an  important 
question  was  yet  to  be  decided.  Would  the  prince, 
whose  territory  Luther  inhabited,  concur  in  the  exe- 
cution of  the  bull,  or  would  he  oppose  it  ?  This  ques- 
tion was  not  easily  answered.  The  elector,  as  well  as 
the  other  princes  of  the  empire,  was  then  at  Aix-la- 
Chapelle.  It  was  there  that  the  crown  of  Charlemagne 
was  placed  on  the  head  of  the  youngest,  and  yet  the 
most  powerful  monarch  of  Christendom.  The  pomp 
and  magnificence  displayed  on  that  occasion,  sur- 
passed all  previous  example.  After  the  ceremony, 
Charles  the  Fifth,  attended  by  Frederic  and  the  other 
princes,  by  the  ministers  and  ambassadors,  immediate- 
ly repaired  to  Cologne.  Aix-la-Chapelle,  which  had 
been  visited  by  the  plague,  seemed  to  discharge  its  en- 
tire population  into  that  ancient  city  of  the  Rhine. 

Among  the  crowd  of  strangers,  who  were  then  re- 
ceived within  its  walls,  were  the  pope's  two  nuncios, 
Marino  Carracioli,  and  Hieronymus  Aleander.  Carra- 
cioli,  who  had  been  employed  on  a  previous  embassy, 
to  Maximilian,  was  authorized  to  congratulate  the  new 
emperor,  and  to  treat  with  him  on  affairs  of  state. 
But  Rome  had  perceived  that,  in  order  to  bring  her 
measures  for  the  extinction  of  the  Reformation  to  a 
successful  issue,  she  must  send  to  Germany  a  nuncio 
specially  charged  with  that  service,  and  fitted,  by  a  pe- 
culiar cast  of  mind,  and  by  a  union  of  dexterity  with 
activity,  for  its  accomplishment.  With  this  view  Ale- 
ander had  been  selected.*  This  individual,  who  at  a 
later  period  was  invested  with  the  Cardinal's  purple, 
was  descended,  it  would  appear,  from  a  family  of  con- 
siderable antiquity,  and  not,  as  some  have  reported, 
from  a  Jewish  stock.  The  licentious  Borgia  sent  for 
him  to  Rome,  to  make  him  secretary  to  that  son,  Cae- 
sar, at  whose  very  name  all  Rome  trembled. t  "  The 
master  and  the  servant  were  well  matched,"  says  a 
contemporary  writer,  intimating  this  similarity  of  cha- 
racter between  Aleander  and  Alexander  the  Sixth. 
The  verdict  seems  too  severe.  After  the  death  of  Bor- 
gia, Aleander  gave  himself  up  to  study  with  renewed 
ardour.  His  proficiency  in  Greek,  Hebrew,  Chaldee, 
and  Arabic,  gained  him  the  credit  of  being  the  most 
learned  man  of  his  age.  Whatsoever  pursuit  he  en- 
gaged in,  he  devoted  himself  to  it  with  his  whole 
heart.  The  zeal  with  which  he  applied  himself  to  the 
acquisition  of  languages,  was  no  less  intense  than  that 
which  he  afterward  displayed  in  persecuting  the  Re- 
formation. His  services  were  next  engaged  by  Leo 
the  Tenth.  Protestant  historians  speak  of  his  Epicu- 
rean morals :  Romish  historians  celebrate  his  blame- 
less life. "|  It  appears  that  he  was  addicted  to  luxury, 
to  dramatic  entertainments,  and  public  shows.  "Ale- 
ander lives  at  Venice  the  life  of  a  grovelling  Epicu- 
rean in  high  estate,"  said  his  old  friend,  Erasmus.  All 
reports  agree  that  he  was  a  man  of  imperious  charac- 
ter, prompt  in  his  actions,  ardent,  indefatigable,  impe- 
rious, and  devoted  to  the  pope.  Eck  was  the  fiery  and 
intrepid  champion  of  the  schools  ;  Aleander  the  haugh- 
ty envoy  of  the  domineering  Vatican.  He  seemed 
born  to  be  a  nuncio. 

Rome  had  everything  in  readiness  for  the  destruction 
of  the  monk  of  Wittemberg.  The  part  which  Alean- 

*  Studium  flagrantissimum  religionis,  ardor  idolis  .  .  in- 
credible quanta  solertia.  (Pallavicini,  i.  84.) 

t  It  was  of  this  son,  Csesar,  that  Capello,  the  Venetian  am- 
bassador at  Rome,  in  the  year  1500,  said  :  Tutta  Roma  trema 
di  esso  ducha  non  li  faza  amazzar  .  ,  Extract,  by  Ranke, 
from  a  manuscript  letter  in  the  archieves  of  Vienna. 

i  Er  wird  iibel  als  ein  gebohrner  Jude  und  schandlicher 
Epicurer  beschrieben.  (Sekend.  288.)  Integntas  vitse  qua 
prtenoscebatur.  (Pallavicini,  i.  84.) 


THE  NUNCIO  AND  THE  EMPEROR— THE  NUNCIOS  AND  THE  ELECTOR.       155 


der  had  to  perform,  as  the  pope's  representative  in  the 
coronation  of  the  emperor,  he  regarded  as  only  a  sub- 
ordinate cotrunission-^adapted,  however,  to  promote 
his  main  design,  by  the  personal  consideration  which 
it  necessarily  secured  for  him.  But  his  real  office  was 
to  persuade  Charles  to  crush  the  Reformation  in  its 
birth.*  "  The  pope/'  said  the  nuncio,  as  he  gave  the 
bull  into  the  emperor's  hands,  "  the  pope,  who  has 
measured  his  strength  with  so  many  mighty  princes, 
will  find  little  difficulty  in  dealing  with  these  gram- 
marians." Under  that  contemptuous  designation,  he 
included  Luther,  Mclancthon,  and  Erasmus.  Erasmus 
himself  was  present  at  the  audience. 

Immediately  after  his  arrival  at  Cologne,  Aleander, 
acting  in  concert  with  Carracioli,  made  it  the  object 
of  his  most  strenuous  efforts,  that  the  heretical  writ- 
ings of  Luther  should  be  publicly  burned  in  every  part 
of  the  empire,  but  more  particularly  under  the  eyes  of 
the  German  princes  assembled  in  that  city.  Charles 
the  Fifth  had  already  given  his  consent,  so  far  as  con- 
cerned his  hereditary  dominions.  The  agitation  of 
men's  minds,  in  this  juncture,  was  extreme.  The  mi- 
nisters of  Charles,  arid  the  nuncios  themselves,  were 
solemnly  warned  that  measures  like  these,  instead  of 
healing  the  wound,  would  inflame  it.  "  Do  you  ima- 
gine," they  were  asked,  "  that  the  doctrine  taught  by 
Luther  exists  only  in  those  books,  which  you  are  now 
condemning  to  the  flames  1  It  is  deeply  engraven 
where  you  cannot  obliterate  it — in  the  hearts  of  the 
German  nation,  t  If  you  mean  to  employ  force,  you 
must  give  the  word  for  myriads  of  swords  to  be  uu- 
sheathed,  and  a  countless  multitude  of  victims  to  be 
slaughtered.  Piling  a  few  faggots  together,  to  burn  a 
few  sheets  of  paper,  will  be  of  no  avail.  Nor  does  it 
beseem  the  dignity  of  the  emperor,  or  that  of  the  so- 
vereign pontiff,  to  employ  suoh  weapons. v|  The  nun- 
cio clung  to  his  faggots,  notwithstanding,  "  These 
flames  that  we  shall  kindle,"  said  he,  "  are  a  sentence 
of  condemnation,  written  in  giant  characters,  conspi- 
cuous far  and  wide — to  the  learned  and  the  unlearned 
. — legible  even  to  such  as  can  read  no  others." 

But,  after  all,  the  nuncio  cared  little  about  books  or 
papers  ;  Luther  himself  was  the  mark  he  aimed  at. 
"  These  fires,"  he  remarked  again,  "  are  not  sufficient 
to  purify  the  pestilential  atmosphere  of  Germany.  $ 
Though  they  may  strike  terror  into  the  simple-minded, 
they  leave  the  authors  of  the  mischief  unpunished. 
We  must  have  an  imperial  edict,  sentencing  Luther  to 
death.HJ 

Aleander  found  the  emperor  less  compliant,  when 
the  Reformer's  life  was  demanded,  than  he  had  shown 
himself  before,  when  his  books  alone  were  attacked. 

"  Raised,  as  I  have  been,  so  recently  to  the  throne, 
I  cannot,"  said  Charles,  "  without  the  advice  of  my 
counsellors,  and  the  consent  of  the  princes  of  the  em- 
pire, strike  such  a  blow  as  this,  against  a  faction  so 
numerous  and  so  powerfully  protected.  Let  us  first 
ascertain  what  our  father,  the  Elector  of  Saxony, 
thinks  of  the  matter;  we  shall  then  be  prepared  to 
give  our  answer  to  the  pope.'T  On  the  elector,  there- 
fore, must  the  nuncios  now  exercise  their  artifices,  and 
the  power  of  their  rhetoric. 

On  the  first  Sunday  of  November,  after  Frederic  had 
attended  mass,  in  the  convent  of  the  Cordeliers,  Car- 

*  Cui  tota  sollicitudo  insisteret  nascentis  haeresis  evellendse. 
(Ibid.  i.  83.) 

t  Altiusque  insculptam  in  mentibus  universae  fere  Germa- 
nice.  (Pallavicini,  i.  83.) 

I  In  vi  innumerabilium  gladiorum  qui  infinitum  populum 
trucidarent  .  .  (Ibid.) 

^  Non  satis  ad  expurgandum  aerera  Germanise  jam  tabifi- 
cum.  (Pallavicini,  i.  89.) 

||  Cffisaris  edictum  in  caput  .  .  .  Lutheri.     (Ibid.) 

it  Audiamus  antea  hac  in  re  pattern  nostrum  Fredericum. 
(L.  Opp.lat.  ii.117.) 


racioli  and  Aleander  demanded  an  audience  of  him 
He  received  them  in  the  presence  of  the  Bishop  of 
Trent,  and  of  several  of  his  counsellors.  Carracioli 
opened  the  interview  by  presenting  to  the  elector  the 
pope's  brief.  Of  a  milder  character  than  Aleander,  he 
thought  it  expedient  to  gain  the  prince  over,  if  possi- 
ble, by  fair  speeches  ;  and,  accordingly,  began  by  com- 
plimenting him  and  his  ancestors.  "In  your  Highness," 
said  he,  "  are  reposed  all  our  hopes  for  the  salvation  of 
the  church  and  the  holy  Roman  empire." 

But  the  impetuous  Aleander,  resolved  to  come  at 
once  to  the  point,  stepped  abruptly  forward,  and  inter- 
rupted his  colleague,  who  modestly  gave  way  to  him.* 
"  It  is  to  myself,  and  to  Eck,"  said  he,  "  that  the  affair 
of  Friar  Martin  has  been  intrusted.  Consider  the  in- 
finite peril  into  which  this  man  is  plunging  the  Chris- 
tion  commonwealth.  Unless  a  remedy  be  speedily  ap- 
plied, the  fate  of  the  empire  is  sealed.  Why  has  the 
empire  of  the  Greeks  been  destroyed,  but  because  they 
fell  away  from  the  pope  ?  You  cannot  join  yourself 
to  Luther  without  being  dissevered  from  Christ.f  In 
the  name  of  his  Holiness,  I  require  of  you  two  things  : 
first,  that  you  cause  Luther's  writings  to  be  burned  ; 
secondly,  that  you  inflict  upon  tfie  heretic  himself,  the 
punishment  he  deserves,  or  else,  that  you  deliver  him, 
up  a  prisoner  to  the  pope.  The  emperor  and  all  the 
princes  of  the  empire,  have  signified  their  willingness 
to  accede  to  our  demands  ;  you  alone  demur." 

Frederic  replied  by  the  mouth  of  the  Bishops  of 
Trent  :  "  This  is  a  matter  of  too  much  importance  to 
be  decided  instantly.  Our  determination  in  regard  to 
it  shall  be  duly  communicated  to  you."t 

The  position  in  which  the  Elector  was  placed  was  a 
difficult  one.  To  which  side  shall  he  incline]  On 
the  one  side  are  arrayed  the  Emperor,  the  Princes  of 
the  Empire,  and  the  Sovereign  Pontiff,  whose  authority 
Frederic,  at  this  time,  has  no  thought  of  shaking  off; 
on  the  other  stands  a  monk,  a  poor  monk,  for  against 
Luther  alone  is  this  assault  levelled.  The  reign  of 
Charles  has  but  just  begun.  Shall  Frederic,  the  oldest, 
the  wisest  of  the  sovereign  princes  of  Germany,  be  the 
first  to  kindle  discord  in  the  Empire  1  And,  besides, 
how  shall  he  forfeit  the  praise  of  that  devotion  which 
led  him  in  earlier  days  on  his  long  pilgrimage  to  the 
sepulchre  of  Christl 

But  there  were  voices  raised  to  plead  on  the  oppo- 
site part  also.  A  youthful  Prince,  who  afterwards 
wore  the  electoral  diadem,  and  whose  reign  was  sig- 
nalized by  great  calamities — John  Frederic,  the  son  of 
Duke  John,  and  nephew  of  the  Elector,  having  been 
educated  by  Spalatin,  and  having  now  attained  the  age 
of  seventeen,  had  had  his  heart  deeply  imbued  with  a 
love  of  the  truth,  and  was  ardently  attached  to  Luther.^ 
When  he  saw  him  pursued  by  the  anathemas  of  Rome, 
he  embraced  his  cause  with  the  fervour  of  a  young 
Christian,  and  the  spirit  of  a  young  Prince.  He  wrote 
to  the  Reformer,  and  also  to  his  uncle,  and  with  dig- 
nified earnestness  besought  the  latter  to  protect  Luther 
against  his  enemies.  On  the  other  hand,  Spalatin — 
often,  it  must  be  confessed,  in  too  timid  a  strain — as 
well  as  Pontanus,  and  the  other  counsellors  who  were 
with  the  Elector  at  Cologne,  represented  to  the  Prince 
that  he  could  not  abandon  the  Reformer.  || 

Amidst  this  general  agitation  one  man  remained  un- 

*  Qui  ita  loquenti  de  improvise  sese  addit  Aleander  .... 

{  Non  posse  cum  Luthero  conjungi  quinsejungeretur  a 
Christo.  (Pallavicini,  i.  86.) 

j  Ut  de  eo  supplicium  sumeret,  vel  captum  pontifici  trans- 
mitterot.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  ii.  117.)  \ 

§  Sonderliche  Gunst  und  Gnade  zu  mir  unwurdiglich  und 
den  grossen  Willen  und  Lust  zu  derheiligen  gottlichen  Wah- 
rheit  .  . .  (L.  Epp.  548,  to  John  Frederic,  30tb  October,  1520.) 

||  Assiduo  flabello  ministrorum  illi  jugiter  suadentium  ne 
Lutherum  desereret.  (Pallavicini,  i.  86.) 


156 


THE  ELECTOR  PROTECTS  LUTHER— ERASMUS  IN  COLOGNE. 


moved  :  it  was  Luther  himself.  While  his  friends 
•were  invoking  the  assistance  of  the  great  to  save  hifn 
from  destruction,  the  monk,  in  hi»  cloister  at  Wittena- 
berg,  had  come  to  the  conclusion,  that  it  was  his  part, 
lather,  to  rescue  the  great  of  this  world  from  their  im- 
minent peril.  '*  If  the  Gospel,"  he  wrote  to  Spalatin, 
"  were  of  such  a  nature  that  it  must  be  propagated  or 
supported  by  earthly  potentates,  God  would  not  have 
committed  it  to  the  hands  of  a  few  fishermen.*  It  is 
not  to  princes  or  to  Pontiffs  that  the  task  is  assigned 
of  defending  God's  word.  Enough  for  them,  if  they 
can  themselves  escape  the  judgments  of  the  Lord  and 
his  Anointed.  I  speak  thus  boldly,  that  they  may  be  led 
to  acquaint  themselves  with  the  divine  Word,  and  may 
find  salvation  there." 

What  Luther  desired  was  about  to  be  accomplished. 
The  same  faith,  that  worked  unseen  in  the  convent  of 
Wittemberg,  was  to  display  its  power  in  the  princely 
halls  of  Cologne.  Frederic's  courage,  which  for  a 
while,  perhaps,  had  faltered,  soon  rose  again  to  its 
wonted  pitch.  He  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  deliver- 
ing an  honest  man  into  the  hands  of  his  implacable 
enemies.  "  Justice  must  have  precedence  even  of 
the  Pope:"  by  this  principle  would  he  regulate  his 
conduct. 

On  the  4th  of  November,  his  counsellors  intimated 
in  his  name,  to  the  papal  Nuncios,  who  had  again  met 
in  the  presence  of  the  Bishop  of  Trent  in  the  Elector's 
palace,  that  his  highness  had  seen,  with  great  concern, 
the  advantage  which  Doctor  Eck  had  taken  of  his 
absence,  to  involve  many  persons  in  the  sentence  of 
condemnation,  who  were  not  particularized  in  the  bull  : 
that  since  his  departure  from  Saxony,  multitudes,  very 
probably,  of  every  class,  the  learned  as  well  as  the 
unlearned,  the  clergy  as  well  as  the  laity,  had  joined 
themselves  to  Luther,  and  become  parties  to  his  ap- 
peal ;J  that  neither  his  Imperial  Majesty,  nor  any  one 
else,  had  yet  made  it  appear  to  him  that  Luther's  writ- 
ings had  been  refuted,  or  demonstrated  to  be  fit  only 
for  the  flames;  that  hedemanded,  therefore,  that  Doctor 
Luther  should  be  furnished  with  a  safe-conduct,  and 
permitted  to  answer  for  himself  before  a  tribunal,  com- 
posed of  learned,  pious,  and  impartial  judges." 

After  this  announcement,  Aleander,  Carracioli,  and 
their  followers,  withdrew  for  a  while,  to  hold  a  consul- 
tation.}: This  was  the  first  occasion  on  which  the 
Elector  had  publicly  declared  his  intentions  in  regard 
to  the  Reformer.  The  Nuncios  had  expected  him  to 
adopt  a  very  different  course.  The  affair  having  been 
brought  to  that  stage  in  which  his  continued  neutrality 
would  expose  him  to  dangers,  the  full  extent  of  which 
no  foresight  could  measure — they  thought  that  he  would 
no  longer  hesitate  to  give  up  the  obnoxious  monk.  So 
Rome  had  reasoned.  But  her  machinations  were  now 
to  be  baffled  by  a  power  which  her  calculations  had  left 
wholly  out  of  view ; — the  love  of  justice  and  truth. 

On  the  re-admission  of  the  Nuncios  into  the  audi- 
ence chamber,  "  I  should  like  to  know,"  said  the  arro- 
gant Aleander,  "  what  would  the  Elector  thinkr  if  one 
of  his  subjects  were  to  appeal  from  his  judgment  to 
that  of  the  king  of  France,  or  some  other  foreign  sove- 
reign." But  perceiving  at  last,  that  the  Saxon  coun- 
sellors were  not  to  be  wrought  upon  :  "We  will  exe- 
cute the  bull,"  said  he,  "  we  will  pursue  and  burn  the 
writings  of  Luther.  As  for  his  person,"  he  added, 
affecting  a  tone  of  disdainful  indifference,  "the  Pope 


*  Evangelium  si  tale  esset  quod  potentatibus  mundi  aut  pro- 
pagaretur  aut  servaretur,  non  illud  piscatoribus  Deus  deman- 
dasset.  (L.  Epp.  i.  521.) 

|  Ut  ingens  vis  populi  dpctorum  et  rudium,  sacrorum  et 
profanorum,  sese  conjunxerint ...  (L.  Opp,  lat.  ii.  116.) 

J  Quo  audito  Marinus  et  Aleander  seoraim  cum  guis  locuti 
aunt  (Ib.  117.) 


bas  little  inclination  to  imbrue  his  hands  in  the  blood 
of  the  unhappy  wretch." 

When  the  tidings  reached  Wittemberg,  of  the  reply 
given  by  the  Elector  of  the  Nuncios,  Luther's  friends 
were  transported  with  joy.  Melancthon  and  Amsdorff, 
n  particular,  conceived  the  most  sanguine  hopes  of  the 
'uture.  "  The  German  nobles,"  said  Melanethon, 
'  will  follow  the  guidance  of  the  Prince,  whom  they 
revere  as  their  Nestor.  If  Homer  styled  his  aged  hero- 
he  bulwark  of  the  Greeks,  why  may  not  our  Frederic 
>e  surnamed  the  bulwark  of  Germany  ?"* 

Erasmus,  the  oracle  of  courts-,  the  arbiter  of  schools, 
he  luminary  of  the  age,  was  then  at  Cologne.  He  had 
seen  summoned  thither  by  several  princesr  desirous  to 
profit  by  his  counsels.  Erasmus,  at  the  epoch  of  the 
Reformation,  was  the  leader  of  that  party  which  held 
he  just  mean  between  the  other  two ;  such  at  least 
was  his  own  persuasion — a  mistaken  one,  however — 
"or  when  truth  and  error  stand  in  hostile  opposition, 
ustice  halts  not  on  the  middle  ground.  He  was  the 
chief  of  that  philosophical  and  academic  party,  which, 
or  centuries,  had  been  attempting  to  correct  the  abuses 
of  the  Romish  Church,  but  still  without  success.  He 
was  the  representative  of  human  wisdom — a  wisdom 
ar  too  weak  to  chastise  the  pride  of  Popery.  The 
task  could  be  achieved  only  by  the  wisdom  of  God, 
which  men  often  deem  foolishness,  but  at  the  voice  of 
which  the  mountains  crumble  into  dust.  Erasmus- 
would  neither  throw  himself  into  the  arms  of  Lutherr 
nor  yet  would  he  crouch  at  the  footstool  of  the  Pope. 
He  wavered,  and  sometimes  lost  his  balance  between 
the  two  opposing  influences  ;  ever  and  anon  attracted 
towards  the  Reformer,  and  then  again  suddenly  drawn 
back  into  the  sphere  of  Romish  delusion.  In  a  letter 
addressed  to  Albert,  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  he  had 
declared  himself  in  Luthei's  favour,  "  It  seems,"  said 
he,  "  as  though  the  last  spark  of  Christian  piety  were 
about  to  be  extinguished  ;  and  this  it  is  that  bas  stirred 
up  the  heart  of  Luther  ; — his  aim  is  not  distinction, 
nor  is  he  seeking  wealth."!  Bat  this  letter,  which 
Ulrich  Von  Hiitten  imprudently  published,  was  the 
cause  of  so  much  annoyance  to  Erasmus,  that  he  de- 
termined to  observe  more  caution  for  the  future.  More- 
over, though  he  lay  under  the  charge  of  connivance 
with  Luther,  the  unmeasured  language  employed  by  the 
latter  gave  him  serious-  umbrage:  "Almost  all  good 
people  lean  towards  Luther,"}  he  observed,  "but  I 
perceive  that  the  affair  will  end  in  rebellion  ....  I  do 
not  wish  my  name  to  be  coupled  with  his.$  It  injures 
me,  and  does  him  no  service."!!  "  Be  it  so,''  replied 
Luther,  "  if  that  displeases  you,  I  promise  you  that  I 
will  never  make  mention  of  you,  or  any  of  your  friends." 
Such  was  the  man  to  whom  the  favourers  and  the  ene- 
mies of  the  Reformer  alike  addressed  themselves 

The  Elector,  knowing  that  the  opinion  of  a  man  so 
highly  respected  as  Erasmus  would  carry  great  weight 
with  it,  requested  a  visit  from  the  illustrious  Hollander. 
Erasmus  obeyed  the  invitation  on  the  5th  of  Decem- 
ber. The  friends  of  Luther  regarded  the  interview 
with  some  measure  of  secret  alarm.  The  Elector 
was  standing  before  the  fire,  with  Spalatin  by  hi* 
side,  when  Erasmus  was  ushered  into  the  chamber. 
"  What  think  you  of  Luther?"  asked  Frederic  imme- 
diately. The  prudent  Erasmus,  surprised  by  the  ques- 

*  Homerica  appellations  murnm  Germanise.    (Corp.  Ref.  i. 

272.) 
f  Et  futurum  erat . . .  tit  tandem  prorsus  extingueretur  ilia 

scintilla  Christianas  pietatis  ;  haec  moverunt  animum  Lutheri 

.  . .  qui  nee  honores  amdit  nee  pecuniam  cupit.     (Erasm.  Epp, 

Lond.  1942,  p.  598.) 

I  Favent  vero  ferme  boni  omnes.  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  205.) 
^  Er  will  von  mir  ungenennt  seyn.  (L.  Epp.  i.  255.) 
||  Nam  ea  res  me  gravat  et  Lutherum  non  subleyat.  (Corp. 

Ref.  i,  206.) 


ERASMUS'S  DECLARATION— HIS  ADVICE— THE  CONFESSIONAL. 


157 


tion  so  suddenly  put  to  him,  endeavoured  at  first  to 
evade  a  reply.  He  screwed  up  his  mouth,  bit  his  lips, 
and  remained  silent.  Hereupon  the  Elector  raised  his 
tiye-brows,*  (as  was  his  custom,  Spalatin,  tells  us, 
when  he  meant  to  force  an  explicit  answer  from  the 
person  with  whom  he  was  conversing,)  and  looked 
Erasmus  steadfastly  in  the  face.  The  latter,  at  a  loss 
how  to  extricate  himself  from  the  difficulty,  replied  at 
last,  in  a  half-jocular  tone  ;  "  Luther  has  committed 
two  grievous  sins  ;  he  has  attacked  the  Pope's  crown 
and  the  monks'  bellies." t  The  Elector  smiled,  but 
intimated  to  his  visitor  that  he  was  in  earnest  Eras- 
mus then,  casting  off  his  reserve,  replied  as  follows  : 
"  The  origin  of  all  these  dissensions  is  the  hatred  the 
monks  bear  to  learning,  and  the  fear  that  besets  them 
of  seeing  their  tyranny  brought  to  an  end.  What  are 
the  weapons  of  their  warfare  against  Luther !  clamour, 
cabal,  malice,  and  slander.  The  more  virtuous  a  man 
is,  and  the  more  strongly  attached  to  the  doctrines  of 
the  Gospel,  the  less  does  he  find  to  censure  in  Luther's 
proceedings.^  The  severity  of  the  bull  has  roused  the 
indignation  of  all  good  men  ;  for  they  find  in  it  none 
of  the  gentleness  that  befits  the  Vicar  of  Christ. § 
Two  universities  only,  out  of  the  whole  number,  have 
condemned  Luther ;  and  even  they  have  condemned 
without  having  convicted  him.  Let  them  not  deceive 
themselves  ;  the  danger  is  greater  than  some  persons 
imagine.  There  are  difficulties  in  their  way  which 
will  not  easily  be  surmounted.il  To  begin  the  reign 
of  Charles  by  so  unpopular  an  act  as  Luther's  impri- 
sonment, would  be  an  evil  omen  for  the  future.  The 
world  is  thirsting  for  gospel  truth  :1f  let  us  beware  how 
we  resist  so  holy  a  desire.  Let  the  whole  question  be 
examined  by  dispassionate  and  competent  judges  ;  it 
is  the  only  course  that  can  be  followed,  consistently 
with  the  dignity  of  the  Pope  himself." 

Such  was  the  language  of  Erasmus  to  the  Elector. 
Its  frankness  may  perhaps  astonish  us ;  but  Erasmus 
well  knew  to  whom  he  was  speaking.  Spalatin  listened 
to  it  with  delight.  When  Erasmus  took  his  leave,  he 
accompanied  him  the  whole  way  to  the  house  of  Count 
von  Nuenar,  the  provost  of  Cologne,  where  the  illus- 
trious scholar  resided.  The  latter,  obeying  the  im- 
pulse of  the  moment,  when  he  found  himself  at  home, 
sat  down,  committed  to  writing  the  substance  of  what 
he  had  said  to  the  Elector,  and  gave  the  paper  into 
Spalatin's  hands.  The  fear  of  Aleander,  however, 
soon  took  possession  of  his  mind  ;  the  courage  he  had 
felt  in  the  presence  of  the  Elector  and  his  chaplain 
forsook  him,  and  he  entreated  Spalatin  to  let  him  have 
that  unguarded  paper  back  again,  lest  it  should  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  terrible  Nuncio.  But  it  was  al- 
ready too  late. 

The  Elector,  feeling  himself  strengthened  by  the 
opinion  of  Erasmus,  assumed  a  more  decided  tone  in 
his  communications  with  the  Emperor.  Erasmus  him- 
self, in  several  conferences,  which  (like  those  granted 
to  Nicodemus  of  old,)  were  held  at  night,**  laboured 
hard  to  persuade  the  Imperial  counsellors  that  the 
whole  affair  might  be  referred  to  the  judgment  of  an 
impartial  tribunal.  He  probably  hoped  that  he  himself 
might  be  chosen  to  decide  the  controversy  which 

*  Da  sperret  accep  wahrlich  mein  gnadigst  Herr  seine  Au- 
gen  nur  wohl  auf  .  .  .  (Spalatin  Hist.  MS.  in  Seckendorf,  p. 
291.) 

t  Lutherus  peccavit  in  dnobus,  nempe  quod  tetigit  coronam 
pontificis  et  venires  monachorum.  (See  the  first  volume.) 

J  Cum  optimus  qui'sque  et  evangelica;  doctrinae  proximus 
dicatur  minime  offensus  Luthero.  (Axiomata  Erasmi  in  L. 
Opp.lat.ii.  115.) 

{)  Bullai  sevitia  probos  omnes  offend-it  ut  indigna  mitissimo 
Christi  vicario.  (Ibid.)  ||  Urgent  ardua  negotia. 

IT  Mundus  sitit  veritatem  evangelicam .    (Ibid.) 

**  Sollicitatis  per  nocturnos  congressus  .  .  .  (Pallavicini, 
p.  87.) 


threatened  to  divide  the  Christian  world.  His  vanity 
would  have  found  ample  gratification  in  such  an  office. 
But,  at  the  same  time,  that  he  might  not  lose  his  credit 
at  Rome,  he  wrote  to  Leo  X.  in  the  most  submissive 
terms,  and  Leo  answered  his  letters  graciously  ;  a  cir- 
cumstance which  was  the  source  of  deep  mortification 
to  Aleander.*  In  his  devotion  to  the  Pope's  cause, 
the  Nuncio  would  willingly  have  administered  a  severe 
reproof  to  the  Pope  himself;  for  Erasmus  gave  pub- 
licity to  the  Pontiff's  letters,  and  made  them  subservi- 
ent to  the  confirmation  of  his  own  credit.  Aleander 
forwarded  a  remonstrance  on  this  head  to  the  Vatican. 
The  reply  he  received  was  to  this  effect  :  "  Do  not 
appear  to  perceive  the  evil  intentions  of  the  man. 
Prudence  forbids  it.  We  must  not  close  the  door  of 
repentance  against  him."t 

Charles  himself  adopted  a  system  of  equipoise, 
which  consisted  in  flattering  both  the  Pope  and  the 
Elector,  and  manifesting  a  disposition  to  lean  alter- 
nately to  the  one  side  or  the  other,  according  to  the 
shifting  exigency  of  the  moment.  His  ministers  ob- 
scurely intimated  to  Aleander  the  plan  which  their 
master  was  inclined  to  follow.  "  The  Emperor,"  said 
they,  "  will  be  regulated  in  his  conduct  toward  the 
Pope,  by  the  tenor  of  the  Pope's  conduct  toward  him- 
self :  he  does  not  choose  to  increase  the  power  of  his 
rivals,  particularly  that  of  the  king  of  France."!  At 
these  words,  the  arrogant  Nuncio  gave  vent  to  his  in- 
dignation :  "  What,"  he  replied,  "  even  though  the 
Pope  should  relinquish  his  alliance  with  the  Emperor, 
must  the  Emperor  on  that  account  relinquish  his  creed  ? 
If  that  be  the  way  in  which  he  means  to  avenge  him- 
self, bid  him  tremble — his  faithlessness  will  be  visited 
on  his  own  head  !"  But  the  Imperial  diplomatists 
were  not  to  be  intimidated  by  the  Nuncio's  threats. 

Yet,  though  the  Roman  legates  had  failed  to  bend 
the  great  ones  of  this  world  to  their  will,  the  inferior 
agents  of  the  Papacy  succeeded  in  making  some  im- 
pression on  the  lower  ranks  of  men.  The  myrmidbns 
of  Rome  had  heard  the  command  given  by  their  chief. 
Many  fanatical  priests  gladly  took  advantage  of  the 
bull  to  alarm  the  consciences  of  their  hearers,  arid  many 
well-meaning  but  ill-instructed  ecclesiastics  deemed  it 
a  sacred  duty  to  obey  the  injunctions  of  the  Pope.  It 
was  in  the  confessional  that  the  struggle  against  Rome 
had  been  begun  by  Luther  ;§  it  was  in  the  confessional 
that  Rome  now  put  forth  her  strength  against  the  ad- 
herents of  the  Reformer.  Denied  all  public  recognition 
of  its  validity,  the  bull,  nevertheless,  became  power- 
fully operative  in  these  solitary  tribunals.  "  Have  you 
read  the  writings  of  Luther  t"  was  the  question  put 
by  the  confessor:  "  have  you  them  in  your posession  * 
do  you  regard  them  as  true  or  heretical  !"  And  if 
the  penitent  hesitated  to  pronounce  the  prescribed  ana- 
thema, the  priest  refused  him  absolution.  The  con- 
sciences of  many  were  disturbed.  Great  agitation 
prevailed  among  the  people.  This  dexterous  expedi- 
ent promised  fair  to  bring  multitudes  once  more  under 
the  papal  yoke,  who  had  but  now  been  won  over  to 
the  gospel.  Well  might  Rome  rejoice  that  six  centu- 
ries beforell  she  had  created  a  tribunal  so  admirably 
adapted  to  secure  to  the  priesthood  a  despotic  sway 
over  the  conscience  of  every  Christian.  So  long  as 
that  tribunal  stands,  her  empire  shall  not  be  overthrown. 

Luther  was  speedily  informed  of  what  was  going  on. 
With  none  to  aid  him  in  baffling  this  device,  how  shall 
he  act?  The  Word,  the  testimony  of  holy  Writ, 

*  Qua  male  torquebant  Aleandrum.     (Ibid.) 

t  Prudentis  erat  consilii  hominis  pravitatem  dissimularc. 
(Pallavicini,  p.  88.) 

|  Csesarem  ita  ce  gesturum  erga  Pontificem  uti  se  Fontifex 
erge  Caesarem  gereret  .  .  .  (Ibid.  91.)  (>  See  Vol.  I.  288. 

||  In  1215,  by  the  fourth  Lateran  Council,  under  Innocent 
the  Third. 


158 


ON  CONFESSION— ANTI-CHRIST— LUTHER'S  CAUSE  GAINS  GROUND. 


loudly  and  fearlessly  proclaimed — this  shall  be  his 
weapon  of  defence.  The  Word  shall  find  access  to 
those  troubled  consciences,  those  dismayed  hearts — 
and  they  shall  be  strengthened.  A  powerful  impulse 
was  needed,  and  powerfully  was  the  voice  of  Luther 
lifted  up.  He  addressed  the  penitents  in  a  tone  of 
intrepid  dignity,  and  high  minded  contempt,  for  all 
secondary  considerations.  "  When  you  are  asked," 
said  he,  "  whether  or  not  you  approve  of  my  books, 
let  your  answer  be — '  You  are  a  confessor,  not  an  in- 
quisitor, nor  a  gaoler.  It  is  my  duty  to  confess 
whatsoever  my  conscience  prompts  me  to  disclose,  it 
is  yours  to  abstain  from  prying  into  the  secrets  of  my 
heart.  Give  me  absolution  first,  and  then  dispute  with 
Luther — with  the  pope — with  whomsoever  you  please  ; 
but  beware  of  turning  the  sacrament  of  penance  into 
an  instrument  of  strife  and  debate.'  And  if  the  con- 
fessor should  refuse  to  yield,"  said  Luther,  "  I  would 
dispense  with  his  absolution.  Be  not  disquieted  ;  if 
man  absolves  you  not,  God  will  absolve  you.  Rejoice, 
therefore,  that  you  are  absolved  of  God  himself,  and 
come  forward  fearlessly  to  the  sacrament  of  the  altar. 
The  priest  will  have  to  answer  at  the  last  day  for  the 
absolution  he  has  withheld.  They  may  deny  us  the 
sacrament,  but  they  cannot  deprive  us  of  the  strength 
and  grace  which  God  has  attached  to  it.  It  is  not 
their  will,  nor  any  power  of  theirs,  but  our  own  faith, 
that  the  Lord  has  made  essential  to  our  salvation. 
The  sacrament — the  altar — the  priest — the  church — 
we  may  pass  them  all  by  ;  that  word  of  God  which 
the  bull  condemned  is  more  than  all  these  things  ! 
The  soul  may  dispense  with  the  sacrament,  but  it 
cannot  live  without  the  Word.  Christ,  the  true  Bishop, 
will  himself  supply  your  spiritual  feast."* 

Such  was  the  strain  of  Luther's  exhortation.  That 
animating  voice  pierced  the  recesses  of  every  dwelling 
— of  every  troubled  bosom — and  courage  and  faith 
were  everywhere  awakened  by  its  echoes.  But  it 
was  not  enough  for  him  to  stand  on  the  defensive — he 
felt  that  he  must  become  the  assailant,  and  return  blow 
for  blow.  A  book  had  been  written  against  him  by  a 
Roman  theologian,  named  Ambrosius  Catharinus.  "  I 
will  rouse  the  choler  of  that  Italian  beast,  f  said  Lu- 
ther. He  kept  his  word.  In  his  answer,  he  proved 
by  the  revelations  of  Daniel  and  St.  John,  by  the 
epistles  of  St.  Paul,  St.  Peter,  and  St.  Jude,  that  the 
kingdom  of  Anti-Christ,  predicted  and  described  in  the 
Bible,  was  no  other  than  the  Papacy.  "  I  know  for 
certain,"  said  he,  in  conclusion,  "  that  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  liveth  and  reigneth.  In  the  strength  of  that 
assurance,  I  could  face  ten  thousand  popes,  and  never 
shrink.  May  God  visit  us  at  length  according  to  his 
infinite  power,  and  hasten  the  day  of  the  glorious 
coming  of  his  Son,  in  which  he  shall  destroy  that  man 
of  sin.  And  let  all  the  people  say,  Amen."J 

And  all  the  people  did  say,  Amen  !  A  sacred  dread 
took  possession  of  every  mind.  The  image  of  Anti- 
Christ,  seated  on  the  Pontifical  throne,  was  present  to 
every  imagination.  This  new  idea,  so  startingly  dis- 
played by  Luther  to  his  contemporaries  in  the  glowing 
colours  of  prophetic  delineation,  gave  a  fearful  shock 
to  the  power  of  Rome.  Faith  in  the  divine  Word 
succeeded  to  that  unqualified  submission  which  had 
hitherto  been  rendered  to  the  Church  ;  and  the  pope's 
authority,  so  long  regarded  with  the  deepest  reverence, 
was  now  the  object  of  general  detestation  and  terror. 

Germany  replied  to  the  papal  bull  by  saluting  Lu- 
ther with  redoubled  acclamations.  The  plague  had 
made  its  appearance  in  Wittemberg,  yet  new  students 

*  Und  wird  dich  der  rechte  Bischopp  Christus  selber  speisen 
(L.  Opp.  Ixvii.,  563.) 

t  Italics  bestir  bilem  movebo.    (L.  Epp.  ii.  570 ) 

j  Ostendat  ilium  diem  adventus  glorise  Filii  sui  quo  destru- 
atur  iniquus  1st.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  ii.  162.) 


were  continually  flocking  to  the  university,  and  from 
five  to  six  hundred  disciples  were  statedly  assembled 
to  listen  to  the  lectures  of  Luther  and  Melancthon. 
The  convent  chapel,  and  the  city  church,  were  both 
too  small  for  the  eager  crowd  that  hung  on  the  lips  of 
the  reformer.  The  prior  of  the  Augustines  was  in 
constant  alarm,  lest  the  buildings  should  give  way 
under  the  weight  of  the  throngs  that  filled  them.* 
Nor  was  this  excitement  confined  within  the  walls  of 
Wittemberg  —  all  Germany  partook  of  it.  From 
princes,  nobles,  and  scholars,  in  every  quarter — Lu- 
ther received  letters  that  spoke  the  language  of  en- 
couragement and  of  faith.  More  than  thirty  such 
letters  were  shown  by  him  to  Spalatin.f 

On  one  occasion  the  Margrave  of  Brandenburg,  ac- 
companied by  several  other  princes,  came  to  Wittem- 
berg, to  pay  Luther  a  visit.  "  They  wanted  to  see  the 
man,"J  as  he  expresses  it.  And  of  a  truth,  all  wanted 
to  see  the  man  whose  voice  stirred  the  nations,  and 
caused  the  pontiff  of  the  west  to  totter  on  his  throne. 

The  enthusiasm  of  Luther's  friends  grew  stronger 
e"ery  day.  "  Oh,  the  unheard  of  folly  of  Emser  !" 
cried  Melancthon,  "  that  he  should  presume  to  measure 
his  strength  with  our  Hercules,  overlooking  the  finger 
of  God  in  what  has  been  done  by  Luther,^  even  as  the 
king  of  Egypt  overlooked  it  in  the  acts  of  Moses." 
The  mild  Melancthon  employed  the  most  energetic 
language  to  urge  forward  such  as  appeared  to  him  to 
be  falling  back,  or  pausing  in  their  course.  "  Luther 
has  arisen  to  defend  the  truth,"  said  he,  addressing 
John  Hesse,  "  and  dost  thou  keep  silence  ?  He 
breathes  still — aye,  and  prospers — in  spite  of  all  the 
wrath  and  fury  of  Pope  Leo.  Remember  that  it  is 
impossible  for  Romish  impiety  to  give  a  sanction  to 
the  gospel.  [1  In  this  unhappy  age  how  can  we  hope 
that  a  Judas,  or  a  Caiaphas — a  Pilate,  or  a  Herod,  will 
ever  be  wanting  to  uphold  the  evil  cause  I  Stand  forth, 
then,  to  resist  such  adversaries,  in  the  might  of  God's 
holy  word." 

Besides  this,  caustic  satires  against  the  most  con- 
spicuous of  the  Italian  agents  of  the  pope  were  circu- 
lated through  all  the  provinces  of  the  empire.  Ulrich 
Von  Hvitten,  was  indefatigible  in  his  exertions.  He 
addressed  letters  to  Luther,  to  the  Legates,  to  all  the 
most  considerable  personages  of  Germany.  "  I  tell 
thee — once  and  again  I  tell  thee,  0  Marinus  !"  said 
he,  in  an  epistle  to  the  legate,  Carraciola,  "  that  those 
deceitful  mists,  with  which  you  blinded  our  eyes,  are 
scattered  for  ever  ;  the  gospel  is  preached,  the  truth  is 
made  known,  the  absurdities  of  Rome  are  given  up  to 
contempt — your  decrees  are  unheeded,  and  null — our 
deliverance  is  at  hand."1T 

Not  content  with  the  use  of  prose,  Hiitten  had  re- 
course also  to  verse.  He  published  his  "  Outcry  on 
the  Fire  raised  by  Luther."**  Appealing  in  his  poem 

*  Es  mochte  noch  gar  die  Kirche  uud  Capelle  urn  der  menge 
willen  einfallen.     (Spalatin  in  Seckend.  p.  205.) 
f  Mehr  als  dreyssig  Briefe  von  Ftirsten.     (Ibid.) 
J  Videre  enim  hominem  voluerunt.  (L.  Epp.  i.  544.    16  Jan. 
1521.) 

§  .  .  Dei  digitum  esse  quse  a  Martino  fiant.  (Corp.  Ref.  i 
282.) 

||  Non  posse  Evangelium  Romanae  impictati  probari.  (Corp 
Ref.  i.  280.) 

IT  Ablata  ilia  est  a  vobis  inducta  olim  nostris  oculis  caligi 
.  .  .  praedicatur  Evangelium  .  .  .  spes  est  libertatis.     (Ulric 
ab  Hiitten  Eques.  Mar.  Carrac.  M.  Opp.  lat.  ii.  176. 
**  . . .  Quo  tu  oculos,  pie  Christe,  tuos,  frontisque  severe 
Tende  supercilium,  teque  esse  ostende  neganti. 
Qui  te  contemnunt  igitur  mediumque  tonanti 
Ostendunt  dignitum,  tandem  iis  te  ostende  potentem 
Te  videat  ferus  ille  Leo,  te  tota  malorum 
Sentiat  illuvies,  scelerataqueRomatremiscat 
Ultorem  scelerum  discant  te  vivere  saltern 
Qui  regnare  negant. 

(In  Incendium  Lntheranum  Exclamatio  Ulrichi 
Hiitten  Equitis  Ibid.) 


VON  HUTTEN— CARNIVAL  AT  WITTEMBERG— STAUPITZ  ALARMED. 


159 


to  Christ  himself,  he  besought  him  to  rebuke  in  his 
fiery  displeasure  all  who  dared  to  deny  his  authority. 
Hu'tten  was  not  inclined  to  stop  at  words — he  was 
eager  to  draw  his  sword  in  the  struggle.  Luther  re- 
proved his  rash  designs.  "  I  would  not  have  the  gospel 
supported  by  violence  and  carnage,"  said  he  :  "I  have 
written  to  Hu'tten  to  tell  him  so."* 

The  celebrated  painter,  Lucas  Cranach,  published  a 
set  of  prints  under  tlie  title  of  Christ's  Passion  and 
Anti-Christ:  representing  on  one  side  the  glory  and 
magnificence  of  the  pope  ;  on  the  other,  the  humilia- 
tion and  sufferings  of  the  Redeemer.  Luther  com- 
posed the  inscriptions  for  these  prints.  They  produced 
an  unexampled  effect.  The  people  renounced  their 
attachment  to  a  church  which  appeared  in  every  parti- 
cular so  directly  opposed  to  the  example  of  its  founder. 
"  It  is  an  excellent  work,"  said  Luther,  "  for  the 
laily."t 

In  some  instances  those  who  attacked  the  papacy 
employed  weapons  ill  suited  to  the  sanctity  of  the 
Christian  character.  Emser  had  answered  Luther's 
work,  addressed  "  To  the  Goat  of  Leipsic  ;"  by  an- 
other, inscribed  "To  the  Bull  of  Wittemberg ;"  the 
appellation  was  not  ill  chosen.  But  at  Magdeburgh, 
Etnser's  book  was  hung  to  the  gallows,  with  this  in- 
scription, "  The  Book  is  worthy  of  its  place,"  and  a 
rod  was  hung  under  it  to  denote  the  punishment  due  to 
the  author.t  At  Doeblin  there  was  written  under  the 
pope's  bull,  in  derision  of  its  impotent  fury,  'The  nest 
is  here,  but  the  birds  are  flown. "§ 

The  Students  of  Wittemberg,  taking  advantage  of 
the  carnival,  dressed  up  one  of  their  own  number  in 
garments  resembling  those  worn  by  the  pope,  and 
carried  him  in  pompous  procession,  though  in  a  manner 
somewhat  too  ludicrous,  as  Luther  remarks, ||  through 
the  streets  of  the  city.  When  they  reached  the  great 
square  beside  the  river,  some  of  them,  feigning  a 
mutiny,  made  a  sudden  attempt  to  throw  the  pope  into 
the  water.  His  holiness,  unwilling  to  submit  to  the 
immersion,  took  to  his  heels  ;  his  cardinals,  his  bishops, 
and  familiars  of  every  degree,  did  the  same  ;  the 
students  chased  them  from  street  to  street,  and  every 
corner  of  Wittemberg  enjoyed  the  spectacle  of  some 
Romish  dignitary  pursued  by  the  jeers  and  shouts  of 
the  excited  populace. ^  "  The  enemy  of  Christ,"  says 
Luther,  "  who  mocks  at  kings,  and  at  Christ  himself, 
meets  but  a  just  requital,  when  he  also  is  turned  into 
mockery."  Here,  in  our  judgment,  he  errs  ;  the 
spotless  dignity  of  truth  ought  not  to  be  so  profaned. 
In  the  conflicts  she  is  called  upon  to  wage,  she  needs 
not  such  auxiliaries  as  songs,  or  the  caricatures,  or 
mummeries  of  a  carnival.  It  may  be,  indeed,  that, 
without  these  popular  demonstrations,  her  success 
would  be  less  apparent :  but  it  would  be  purer,  and, 
consequently,  more  durable. 

It  was  not  all  exultation,  and  defiance,  however, 
with  the  reformer.  Behind  his  triumphal  chariot, 
drawn  joyously  along  by  enthusiastic  and  devoted  ad- 
herents, there  stood  the  slave,  to  remind  him  of  im- 
pending evil.  Some  of  his  friends,  at  this  time,  seemed 
disposed  to  retrace  their  steps.  Staupitz,  whom  he 
called  his  father,  appeared  to  be  wavering.  The  pope 
had  accused  him,  and  Staupitz  had  declared  himself 
ready  to  submit  to  the  judgment  of  his  holiness.  "  I 
fear,"  said  Luther,  "  that,  by  accepting  the  pope  as  your 

*  Nollem  vi  et  ccede  pro  Evangelio  certari ;  ita  scrips!  ad 

hominum.     (L.  Epp.  i.  243  ) 
f  Bonus  et  pro  laicis  liber.    (Ibid.  571.) 
j  In  publico  infamise  loco  affixus.     (Ibid.  560.) 
§  Das  Nest  is  hie  .  die  Vogel  sind  ausgeflogen.    (Ibid  570.) 
||  Nimis  ludicre  Papam  personatum  circumvenerunt  subli- 

mem  et  pompaticum.  .  .  .  (Ibid.  561.) 
1T  .  .  .  Fugitivum  cum  Cardinalibus,  Episcopis,  famulisque 

suis  in  diversas  partes  oppidi  disperserunt  et  insecuti  sunt. 

(L.  Epp.  i.  561.  17  Feb.  1521.; 


judge,  you  will  seem  to  renounce  me  and  the  doctrines 
which  I  have  maintained.  If  Christ  loves  you,  he 
will  constrain  you  to  retract  your  letter.  Christ  is 
rejected,  stripped,  blasphemed  :  this  is  not  the  time  to 
shrink  back,  but  to  sound  the  onset.*  You  exhort 
me  to  be  humble  :  I,  on  the  other  hand,  exhort  you 
to  be  firm  :  for  you  have  too  much  humility,  as  I  have 
too  much  pride.  I  shall  be  called  a  proud  man — I. 
know — a  covetous  man,  an  adulterer,  a  homicide,  an 
anti-pope,  a  wretch  guilty  of  every  crime.  It  matters 
little,  so  that  no  one  can  charge  me  with  having  impi- 
ously kept  silence,  while  the  Lord  was  complaining : 
"  /  looked  on  my  right  hand,  and  beheld  ;  but  there  was 
no  man  that  would  know  me."  The  word  of  Christ  is 
a  word,  not  of  peace,  but  of  the  sword.  If  you  will 
not  follow  Christ,  let  me  advance  alone.  I  will  press 
forward,  and  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  shall  be 
mine."t 

Luther  thus,  like  a  consummate  general,  kept  a 
watchful  eye  on  the  face  of  the  battle  ;  and,  while 
fresh  combatants  were  continually  rushing  forward  at 
his  bidding,  into  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  he  failed  not 
to  mark  where  any  of  his  followers  were  beginning 
to  give  ground  ;  nor  was  he  slow  to  rally  them  again, 
beneath  their  adopted  standard.  His  warning  voice 
resounded  far  and  wide.  Letter  followed  letter  in 
rapid  succession.  Three  printing  presses  were  in- 
cessantly employed  in  multiplying  the  copies  of  his 
various  writings.}:  His  discourses  passed  from  hand 
to  hand  through  the  whole  nation — supporting  the 
agitated  penitent  in  the  confessional — giving  courage 
to  the  faltering  convert  in  the  cloister,  and  asserting 
the  claims  of  evangelic  truth,  even  in  the  abodes  of 
princes. 

"  Amid  the  storms  that  assailed  me,"  he  wrote  to 
the  elector,  "  I  always  hoped  that  I  should  be  permit- 
ted to  enjoy  repose  at  last.  But  I  now  see  that  this  was 
o-ne  of  the  thoughts  of  man.  Day  after  day  the  waves 
are  rolling  higher,  and  on  every  side  the  ocean  hems 
me  in.  Fiercely,  indeed,  is  the  tempest  raging,^  ye 
I  still  grasp  the  sword  with  one  hand,  while  with  the 
other  I  build  up  the  walls  of  Zion."ll  His  former 
ties  are  now  broken  ;  the  arm  that  levelled  the  thun- 
ders of  excommunication  against  him,  has  severed  them 
for  ever.  "  Being  excommunicated  by  the  bull,"  said 
he,  "  I  am  released  from  the  authority  of  the  pope, 
and  the  monastic  laws.  I  embrace  my  deliverance 
with  joy.  Yet  I  relinquish  not  the  habit  of  my  order ; 
nor  do  I  leave  the  convent."1T  And  still,  in  the  midst 
of  all  this  commotion,  he  recalls  to  mind  the  dangers 
to  which  his  own  soul  is  exposed  in  the  struggle.  He 
feels  the  necessity  of  watching  over  himself.  "  Thou 
dost  well  to  pray  for  me,"  he  wrote  to  Pellican,  who 
was  residing  at  Basle  ;  "  I  cannot  give  myself  up  as  I 
ought  to  holy  exercises  ;  life  is  a  cross  to  rne.  Thou 
dost  well  in  exhorting  me  to  moderation ;  I  feel  the 
need  of  it ;  but  I  am  not  master  of  myself :  an  im- 
pulse of,  I  know  not  what  nature,  hurries  me  away.  I 
bear  enmity  to  no  man  ;**  but  I  am  so  beset  with 
enemies,  myself,  that  I  cannot  be  sufficiently  on  my 
guard  against  the  seductions  of  Satan.  Pray  for  me, 
then.  .  .  ." 

Thus  it  was,  that  both  the  reformer  and  the  reform- 

*  Non  enira  hie  tempus  timendi  sed  clamandi.     (Ibid.  557.) 

f  Quod  si  tu  non  vis  sequi,  sine  me  ire  et  rapi.  (L.  Epp.  i. 
553.) 

|  Cum  tria  praelia  solus  ego  occupare  cogar.    (Ibid) 

k  Videns  rem  tumultuosissimo  tumultu  tumultuantem. 
(Ibid.  546.) 

||  Unna  manii  gladium  apprehenderis  et  altera  murum  sedi- 
ficaturus.  (Ib.  565.) 

U  Ab  ordinis  et  Papae  legibus  solutus  .  .  quod  gaudeo  et 
amplector.  (L.  Epp.  i.  568.) 

**..'.'.  Compos  mei  non  sum,  rapior  nescio  quo  spiritu, 
cum  nemini  me  male  veile  conscius  sim.  (Ibid.  555.) 


160 


PROGRESS  OF  THE  REFORMATION— DIFFICULTIES. 


ation  were  led  forward  on  the  way  which  God  had 
marked  out  for  them.  The  agitation  was  still  spread- 
ing more  widely.  Persons,  who  might  have  been  ex- 
pected to  prove  the  stanchest  adherents  of  the  hierar- 
chy, began  now  to  share  in  the  general  movement. 
"  Those,  even,"  says  Eck,  with  considerable  candour, 
"  on  whom  the  pope  has  conferred  the  best  benefices, 
and  the  richest  prebends,  are  as  mute  as  so  many 
senseless  stocks.  There  are  many  of  them,  even,  who 
extol  Luther,  as  a  man  filled  with  the  spirit  of  God, 
and  call  the  defenders  of  the  pope  sophists  and  flatter- 
ers."* The  church,  apparently  in  full  vigour,  supported 
by  the  treasures,  the  power,  the  armed  array  of  the 
world — but,  in  reality,  exhausted,  enfeebled,  destitute 
of  the  love  of  God,  of  Christian  vitality,  of  devotion  to 
the  truth — found  herself,  in  this  condition,  opposed  to 
a  company  of  simple-minded,  but  courageous  men,  who 
had  learned  that  God  is  with  them  who  contend  for 
his  word,  and,  therefore,  never  doubted  of  their  victory. 
In  all  ages  it  has  been  seen  how  great  is  the  power  of 
any  predominant  idea  to  work  upon  the  inert  mass  of 


mankind,  to  rouse  the  spirit  of  a  nation,  and  to  urge 
its  votaries  by  thousands,  if  need  be,  into  the  field  of 
battle,  and  the  very  jaws  of  death.  But  if  an  idea, 
whose  origin  is  earthly,  has  a  potency  so  great — what 
limit  shall  we  set  to  the  power  of  one  communicated 
from  above,  when  God,  himself,  has  opened  men's 
hearts  to  receive  it  1  Not  often,  indeed,  in  the  world's 
history,  has  such  a  power  been  exerted  ;  it  was  dis- 
played, however,  in  the  infancy  of  Christianity — at  the 
period  of  the  reformation  it  was  exhibited  again — and 
it  shall  be  witnessed  once  more  in  the  latter  days.  Men 
who  despised  the  riches  and  the  grandeur  of  the  world, 
and  were  content  to  lead  a  life  of  poverty  and  privation, 
began  now  to  bestir  themselves  for  the  sake  of  that 
most  precious  of  all  treasures,  the  doctrine  of  truth  and 
grace.  All  the  elements  of  religious  feelings  were  fer- 
menting in  the  agitated  bosom  of  society,  and  a  glow- 
ing enthusiasm  was  kindled  in  men's  souls,  which 
forced  them  by  an  irresistible  impulse,  into  that  glori- 
ous career  opened  by  the  providence  of  God  for  the 
moral  renovation  of  their  race. 


BOOK  VII. 


THE  DIET  OF  WORMS— 1521— JANUARY  TO  MAY. 


THE  Reformation  engendered  by  the  solitary  strug 
gles  of  a  broken  and  contrite  spirit,  in  a  celi  of  the 
convent  at  Erfurth,  had  been  gaining  strength  from 
the  moment  of  its  birth.  A  man  of  humble  station, 
holding  in  his  hand  the  word  of  life,  had  stood  erect 
in  the  presence  of  earthly  dignities,  and  they  had 
quailed  before  him.  Armed  with  that  word  alone,  he 
had  encountered  first  Tetzel  and  his  numerous  host, 
and,  after  brief  resistance,  those  greedy  traffickers  had 
been  driven  from  the  field — then  the  Roman  leagate  at 
Augsburg,  and  the  legate,  in  confusion,  had  suffered 
his  prey  to  escape — then,  again,  the  learned  divines 
in  the  halls  of  Leipsic,  and  the  astonished  theologians, 
had  seen  the  weapons  of  their  scholastic  logic  shivered 
in  their  hands — lastly,  when  the  pope,  himself,  had 
started  from  his  slumbers,  to  launch  his  fiercest  light- 
nings at  the  head  of  the  offending  monk — that  same 
"word  had  again  been  the  safeguard  of  him  who  trusted 
in  it,  and  the  arm  of  the  spiritual  despot  had  been 
stricken  with  palsy.  One  struggle  more  was  yet  to 
be  endured ;  for  the  word  was  destined  to  triumph 
over  the  emperor  of  the  west,  over  the  kings  and 
princes  of  many  lands,  and  at  length,  having  humbled 
all  earthly  opposition,  to  be  exalted  in  the  church,  and 
there  to  reign  supreme  as  the  very  word  of  the  living 
God. 

A  solemn  diet  was  about  to  be  convened — the  first 
assembly  of  the  German  states  since  the  accession  of 
Charles.  Nuremberg,  the  city  in  which,  by  virtue  of 
the  golden  bull,  it  ought  to  have  been  held,  was  at  this 
time  afflicted  by  the  plague ;  it  was  therefore  sum- 
moned to  meet  at  Worms,  on  the  6th  of  January, 
1521.f  Never,  before,  had  so  many  princes  been 
present  at  the  Diet ;  on  this  occasion  all  were  de- 
sirous of  taking  a  part  in  the  first  act  of  the  young  em- 
peror's government ;  all  were  ambitious  of  displaying 
their  own  grandeur.  Among  the  rest  the  young  Land- 

*  Reynald,  Epist.  J.  Eckii  ad  Cardinal  Contarenum. 
t  Sleiden,  vol.  i.  80. 


grave,  Philip,  of  Hesse,  who  was  afterward  to  play  so 
important  a  part  in  the  Reformation,  arrived  at  Worms 
about  the  middle  of  January,  with  a  train  of  six  hun- 
dred cavaliers,  many  of  them  highly  distinguished  for 
their  military  prowess. 

A  more  powerful  motive,  however,  had  actuated  the 
electors,  the  dukes,  the  archbishops,  the  landgraves,  the 
margraves,the  bishops, the  counts,the  barons,  and  lords  of 
the  empire,  as  well  as  the  deputies  of  the  free  cities 
and  the  ambassadors  of  the  various  foreign  sovereigns, 
whose  gorgeous  retinues  were  now  pouring  from  every 
quarter  into  the  city  of  Worms.  Intimation  had  been 
given,  that  the  Diet  would  be  occupied  with  the  nomi- 
nation of  a  Council  of  Regency,  to  administer  the  go- 
vernment in  the  emperor's  absence,  with  the  question 
regarding  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Imperial  Chamber,  and 
with  other  weighty  matters  ;  but  the  public  attention 
was  chiefly  fixed  upon  a  subject  distinct  from  all  these, 
but  which  the  emperor  had  also  mentioned  in  his  letters 
of  convocation — namely,  the  Reformation.  The  great 
political  interests  of  state  faded  into  insignificance  when 
contrasted  with  the  cause  of  the  monk  of  Wittemberg. 
This  was  the  main  topic  of  discourse  among  the  dig- 
nified personages  who  were  assembled  in  Worms. 

Everything  indicated  that  the  Diet  would  be  a  diffi- 
cult and  boisterous  one.  Charles,  at  this  early  period, 
lad  not  yet  adopted  a  decided  line  of  policy  ;  his  tutor 
and  first  minister  died  while  the  assembly  was  sitting 
— many  ambitious  designs  were  on  foot — many  con- 
flicting passions  at  work — the  Spaniards  and  the  Fle- 
mings were  striving  hard,  to  exclude  each  other  from 
the  confidence  of  their  youthful  Sovereign — the  Nun- 
cios were  busily  pursuing  their  artful  schemes — the 
German  princes  had  assumed  a  tone  of  independence. 
It  was  easy  to  foresee  that  a  struggle  was  at  hand,  in 
which,  all  the  subtleties  of  party  intrigue  would  find 
ample  exercise.* 

*  Es  <neng  aber  auf  diesera  Reichstag  gar  schliipferig  zu. 
(Seckend.,  p.  326.) 


LUTHER  SUMMONED  TO  WORMS— PUBLIC  OPINION. 


161 


How  was  Charles  to  act,  between  the  papal  nuncio 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  elector,  to  whom  he  was  in 
debted  for  his  crown,  on  the  other  ?  How  avoid  giving 
offence,  either  to  Aleander  or  to  Frederic  1  The  for 
mer  was  continually  urging  the  emperor  to  execute  th< 
pope's  bull ;  the  latter  as  perseveringly  entreated  him 
to  take  no  steps  against  the  monk,  until  he  should  have 
allowed  him  a  hearing.  Desirous  of  satisfying  both 
these  contending  parties,  the  young  prince,  during 
temporary  residence  at  Oppenheirn,  had  written  to  the 
elector  to  bring  Luther  to  the  Diet,  on  the  assurance 
that  no  injustice  should  be  practised  against  him,  that 
he  should  be  protected  from  all  violence,  and  that  a  free 
conference  should  be  allowed  him,  with  men  qualified 
to  discuss  the  disputed  point. 

This  letter  from  Charles,  which  was  accompanied 
by  others  from  his  minister,  Chievres,  and  the  Count 
of  Nassau,  threw  the  elector  into  great  perplexity.  He 
well  knew  that,  at  any  moment,  an  alliance  with  the 
pope  might  become  necessary  to  the  young  and  ambi- 
tious emperor,  and  that  Luther,  in  that  case,  would  be 
lost.  If  he  carried  the  Reformer  to  Worms,  he  migh 
probably  be  conducting  him  to  the  scaffold.  And  yel 
the  emperor's  orders  were  peremptory.  The  elector 
desired  Spalatin  to  inform  Luther  of  the  directions  he 
had  received.  "  Our  enemies,"  observed  the  chaplain, 
"  are  straining  every  nerve  to  accomplish  their  design."'* 

The  friends  of  Luther  trembled,  but  he  himself  par- 
took not  of  their  fears.  His  health,  at  that  time,  was 
very  weak  ;  but  this  he  heeded  not.  "  If  I  cannot  per- 
form the  journey  to  Worms  as  a  man  in  good  health,' 
said  he,  in  his  answer  to  the  elector,  "  I  will  be  carried 
thither  in  a  litter.  For  since  the  emperor  has  sum- 
moned me,  I  can  regard  it  only  as  the  call  of  God.  If 
they  intend  to  use  violence  against  me,  as  they  proba- 
bly do,  for  assuredly  it  is  with  no  view  of  gaining  in- 
formation, that  they  require  me  to  appear  before  them  ; 
I  commit  the  matter  into  the  hands  of  God.  He  still 
lives  and  reigns,  who  preserved  the  three  Israelites  in 
the  fiery  furnace.  If  it  be  not  His  will  to  save  me,  my 
life  is  little  worth.  Let  us  only  take  care  that  the  Gos- 
pel be  not  exposed  to  the  insults  of  the  ungodly,  and 
let  us  shed  our  blood  in  its  defence,  rather  than  allow 
them  to  triumph.  Who  shall  say,  whether  my  life  or 
my  death  would  contribute  most  to  the  salvation  of  my 
brethren  !  It  is  not  for  us  to  decide.  Let  us  only  pray 
God,  that  our  young  Emperor  may  not  begin  his  reign 
by  imbruing  his  hands  in  my  blood.  I  would  rather 
perish  by  the  sword  of  Rome.  You  remember  the 
judgments  with  which  the  Emperor  Sigismund  was 
visited,  after  the  murder  of  John  Huss.  Expect  any- 
thing from  me  but  flight  or  recantation.!  Fly  I  can- 
not, still  less  can  I  recant." 

Before  Luther's  letter  reached  him,  the  elector  had 
formed  his  resolution.  This  prince,  whose  acquaint- 
ance with  the  Gospel  was  daily  increasing,  began  now 
to  adopt  a  more  decided  course.  He  was  sensible  that 
the  conference  at  Worms  could  lead  to  no  advanta- 
geous result.  •«  It  seems  to  me,"  he  wrote  to  the  em- 
peror, "  that  to  bring  Luther  with  me  to  Worms,  would 
be  an  undertaking  of  much  difficulty.  I  beg  to  be  re- 
lieved from  it.  Moreover,  it  has  never  been  my  desire 
to  favour  his  doctrines,  but  only  to  prevent  him  from 
being  condemned  unheard.  The  Legates,  without 
waiting  for  your  sanction,  took  measures  which  were 
injurious  both  to  Luther's  honour,  and  to  mine  ;  and 
I  have  reason  to  fear,  that  he  has  been  provoked  to  an 
act  of  imprudent  retaliation,  which,  in  the  event  of  his 
appearance  at  Worms,  might  place  him  in  extreme 

*  Adversaries  omnia  moliri  ad  maturandum  id  negotii.  (L. 
Epp.i.534) 

^  f  Omnia  de  me  praesumas  praeter  fugam  et  palinodiam.  (L. 
Epp.  i.  636.) 


jeopardy."     The  elector  alluded  to  the  burning  of  the 
pope's  bull. 

But  the  report  of  Luther's  intended  appearance  had 
already  been  circulated  at  Worms.  The  seekers  after 
novelty  heard  it  with  joy — the  Imperial  courtiers  with 
alarm — but  by  none  was  it  received  with  so  indignant 
a  feeling  as  by  the  Papal  Legate.  Aleander,  on  his 
way  to  the  Diet,  had  had  opportunities  of  seeing  to 
what  extent  the  Gospel,  proclaimed  by  Luther,  had 
found  acceptance  in  every  class  of  society.  Academi- 
cians, lawyers,  nobles,  the  inferior  clergy,  many  even 
of  the  monks,  and  vast  numbers  of  the  common  people, 
had  embraced  the  Reformation.*  The  adherents  of 
the  new  doctrines  showed  a  fearless  front,  their  lan- 
guage was  frank  and  firm — and,  on  the  contrary,  an 
unconquerable  terror  paralysed  the  partisans  of  Rome. 
The  Papacy  was  standing  yet,  but  those  who  were  re- 
garded as  its  pillars  began  to  stagger,  for  their  ears  had 
already  caught  the  presages  of  approaching  ruin — pre- 
sages resembling  that  faint  and  dubious  sound,  which 
alone  gives  brief  warning  when  a  mountain  totters  to  its 
fall.f  Aleander,  in  the  course  of  his  journey  to  Worms, 
was  often  subjected  to  the  severest  mortification.  When 
he  had  occasion  to  halt  in  any  spot  for  refreshment  or 
repose,  neither  collegians,  nor  nobles,  nor  priests,  even 
among  those  believed  to  be  favourable  to  the  pope's 
cause,  would  venture  to  receive  him,  and  the  haughty 
Nuncio  was  obliged  to  seek  shelter  in  the  meanest 
inns.J  Alarmed  by  these  symptoms,  Aleander  con- 
cluded that  his  life  was  in  danger.  He  arrived  at 
Worms  with  that  idea  uppermost  in  his  mind,  and  his 
Roman  fanaticism  assumed  additional  bitterness  from 
the  sense  of  personal  injury.  He  had  immediate  re- 
course to  every  means  within  his  reach  to  prevent  the 
audacious  appearance  of  the  formidable  Luther. — 

Would  it  not  be  a  scandal,"  said  he,  "  to  see  laymen 
instituting  a  fresh  enquiry  into  a  cause,  in  which  the 
pope  has  already  pronounced  a  sentence  of  condemna- 
tion 1"  To  a  Roman  courtier,  nothing  could  be  so  un- 
welcome as  an  enquiry — and,  moreover,  this  was  to 
have  taken  place  in  Germany,  not  at  Rome,  a  circum- 
stance in  itself  deeply  affronting,  even  on  the  suppo- 
sition of  Luther  being  eventually  condemned  without 
a  dissentient  voice  ;  but  such  result  of  the  trial  was 
uncertain.  iMight  it  not  be  feared  that  the  man,  whose 
powerful  eloquence  had  already  done  such  deadly  mis- 
chief, might  draw  aside  many  of  the  princes  and  lords 
nto  the  path  of  perdition  1  Aleander's  remonstrances 
with  Charles  were  of  the  most  urgent  character ;  he 
entreated,  he  threatened,  he  spoke  in  the  lofty  tone  of 
one  who  represented  the  Head  of  the  Church.*)  Charles 
gave  way,  and  wrote  to  the  elector,  that,  inasmuch  as 
.he  time  allowed  to  Luther  had  expired,  he  was  now 
n  the  condition  of  a  man  actually  excommunicated 
by  the  pope,  and  consequently,  if  he  would  not  retract 
what  he  had  written,  Frederic  must  leave  him  at  Wit- 
ernberg.  But  that  prince  had  already  commenced  his 
ourney  without  him.  "  I  beseech  the  Lord,"  said 
Melancthon,  when  the  elector  took  his  departure,  "  to 
deal  graciously  with  our  sovereign.  On  him  rest  all 
our  hopes  for  the  revival  of  Christianity.  His  enemies 

l  stop  at  nothing,  KCU  iravra  2,f&ov  KivijGO[ievoi,\\ 
but  God  will  bring  to  nought  the  devices  of  Achito- 
)hel.  As  for  us,  let  us  perform  our  part  in  the  conflict 


*  Multitude  .  .  .  turba  pauperum  nobilium  .  , 
:ci  .  .  .  causidici    .   .   .   inferiores  ecclesiastic! 


gramma. 
,  .   factio 
multorum  regularium  .  .  .  (Pallavicini.  i.  93.) 

t  Ha;  omnes  conditiones  petulantergrassantium    ..      me- 
urn  cuilibet  incutiebant.     (Ibid.) 

t  Neminem  nactus  qui  auderet  ipsum  excipere  ad  vilia  sor- 
lidaque  hospitia  asgre  divertit.  (Ibid.) 

§  Legati  Romani  nolunt  ut  audiatur  homo  hasreticug. 
lantur  multa.    (Zw.  Epp.  p.  156) 

||  They  will  not  leave  a  stone  unturned.     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  279.  24 
Jan.) 


162 


FRESH  CHARGES  AGAINST  LUTHER— HIS  MOTIVES. 


by  our  teachings  and  our  prayers."  Luther  was  much 
grieved  that  he  was  forbidden  to  appear  at  Worms.* 

It  was  not  enough  for  Aleander,  however,  that  Luther 
was  prevented  from  making  his  appearance  at  the  Diet 
— he  was  bent  on  obtaining  his  condemnation.  He 
returned  incessantly  to  the  charge  with  the  princes, 
prelates,  and  other  members  of  the  assembly;  he 
charged  the  Augustine,  not  only  with  disobedience  and 
heresy,  but  also  with  sedition,  rebellion,  impiety,  and 
blasphemy.  But  the  very  tones  of  his  voice  betrayed 
the  passions  by  which  he  was  actuated.  "  Hatred  and 
the  thirst  of  vengeance,"  an  observer  remarked,  "  are 
his  motives,  rather  than  any  true  zeal  for  religion  ;"f 
and,  in  spite  of  the  frequency  and  the  vehemence  of  his 
harangues,  he  persuaded  no  one.J  Some  reminded 
him,  that  the  pope's  bull  had  only  condemned  Luther 
conditionally  ;  others  allowed  indications  to  escape 
them,  of  the  joy  they  felt  at  seeing  the  pride  of  Rome 
brought  down.  The  emperor's  ministers  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  ecclesiastical  electors  on  the  other,  af- 
fected extreme  coldness — the  former,  in  order  that  the 
pope  might  perceive  the  necessity  of  contracting  an 
alliance  with  their  master  ;  the  latter,  that  he  might  be 
compelled  to  purchase  their  co-operation  at  a  higher 
price.  A  conviction  of  Luther's  innocence  was  the 
prevailing  sentiments  in  the  assembly,  and  Aleander 
could  not  restrain  his  indignation. 

But  the  coldness  of  the  Diet  he  could  better  have 
brooked  than  the  coldness  which  was  now  manifested 
by  Rome.  Rome,  when  at  length,  with  much  diffi- 
culty, she  had  been  induced  to  treat  the  attack  of  the 
"drunken  German"  as  a  serious  matter,  never  ima- 
gined that  a  bull,  emanating  from  the  Sovereign  Pon- 
tiff could  fail  to  reduce  him  at  once  to  complete  and 
abject  submission. — She  had  relapsed  into  her  former 
security, §  and  neither  bull  nor  coin  did  she  now  forward 
to  Germany.  Now,  without  money,  how  was  it  pos- 
sible to  manage  an  affair  like  this  111  Rome  must  be 
roused,  and  Aleander  accordingly  sounds  the  alarm. 
"  Germany,"  he  wrote  to  the  Cardinal  de  Medicis,  is 
falling  away  from  Rome — the  princes,  I  say,  are  falling 
away  from  the  pope.  A  little  more  delay — a  little  more 
compromise — and  the  case  becomes  hopeless  ! — Mo- 
ney! Money!  or  Germany  is  lost  1"1T 

At  this  cry,  Rome  awakes  ;  the  retainers  of  the  Pa- 
pacy assembled  in  the  Vatican,  cast  aside  their  torpor, 
and  hasten  to  forge  fresh  thunders  of  direful  potency. 
The  pope  issues  a  new  bull,**  and  that  excommunica- 
tion, with  which  hitherto  the  heretical  doctor  had  only 
been  threatened,  is  now  decidedly  pronounced  against 
him,  and  against  all  his  adherents.  Rome,  by  thus 
wilfully  snapping  asunder  the  last  thread  that  yet  held 
him  to  her  church,  gave  Luther  more  liberty,  and  con- 
sequently more  power.  Assailed  by  the  papal  thun- 
ders, he  cast  himself,  with  a  more  ardent  love,  into  the 
arms  of  Christ.  Driven  from  the  outward  temple,  he 
felt  more  deeply  .that  he  was  a  temple  himself,  inhabit- 
ed by  the  Holy  Spirit. 

"  It  is  a  glorious  thing  to  think  of,"  said  he,  "  that 
we  sinners,  believing  in  Christ,  and  feeding  on  his  flesh, 
should  have  him  dwelling  in  us — in  all  his  power,  his 
wisdom,  and  his  righteousness — for  it  is  written,  Who- 

*  Cum  dolorelegi  novissimas  Carol!  litteras.  (L.  Epp.  i.  542-) 

{  Magis  invidia  et  vindictae  libidine  quam  zelo  pietatis- 
Hist.  Job.  Cochlaei  de  actis  et  scriptis  Martini  Lutheri.  Par. 
1556.  p.  27.  verso. — Cochlaeus  was  one  of  Luther's  greatest  ene- 
mies. We  shall  shortly  have  to  speak  of  him. 

I  Vehementibus  suis  orationibus  parum  promovit.  Coch- 
laeus. 

6  Negligens  quaedam  securitas  Romam  pervaserat.  (Palli- 
vicini,  i.94.) 

||  Nee  pecunia  ad  varios  pro  eadem  sumptus.     (Ibid.) 

IT  Periculum  denique  amittendae  Germanise  ex  parsimonia 
monetEe  cujusdam.  (Ibid.) 

**  Decet  Romanum  pontificem,  &c.      (Roman.  Bullarium.) 


soever  believcth  in  me,  in  him  I  abide.  0  wonderful 
abode  !  marvellous  tabernacle  ;  how  far  excelling  that 
which  was  set  up  by  Moses  !  within,  how  magnificently 
adorned  with  costly  hangings,  and  purple  veils  and 
implements  of  gold  !  and  yet  without,  even  like  that 
other  tabernacle  which  God  commanded  to  be  erected 
in  the  wilderness  of  Sinai,  there  is  nothing  to  be  seen 
but  the  coarse  covering  of  ram's  skins  and  goat's  hair.* 
Often  does  the  Christian  stumble,  and  in  his  outward 
aspect  all  is  weakness  and  reproach.  But  what  mat- 
ters it  1 — beneath  that  infirmity  and  foolishness  of  his, 
a  power  lies  hid  which  the  world  cannot  know,  and 
which  yet  must  overcome  the  world  ;  for  Christ  abideth 
in  him.  I  have  sometimes  seen  Christians  halting  in 
their  walk,  and  ready  to  fall,  but  when  the  hour  came 
that  they  must  wrestle  with  the  enemy,  or  plead  their 
Master's  cause  before  the  world,  Christ  on  a  sudden, 
stirred  within  them,  and  so  strong  and  valiant  did  they 
then  become,  that  Satan  was  dismayed  and  fled  from 
their  presence."! 

Such  an  hour  as  he  spoke  of  was  soon  to  come  upon 
himself;  and  Christ,  who  "  abode"  with  him  was  then 
to  be  his  present  help.  Rome  in  the  meantime  cast 
him  off  in  scorn.  The  Reformer  and  all  who  took  part 
with  him,  of  whatsoever  rank  or  degree,  were  anathe- 
matized, and  were  declared  to  have  forfeited  for  them- 
selves and  their  descendants,  all  their  honours  and  their 
worldly  goods.  Every  faithful  Christian  was  enjoined, 
as  he  valued  his  own  soul,  to  shun  all  intercourse  with 
that  accursed  crew  ;  in  every  place  where  the  heresy 
had  gained  a  footing,  it  was  the  duty  of  the  priests  on. 
Sundays  and  holidays,  at  the  hour  of  high  mass,  so- 
lemnly to  publish  the  sentence  of  excommunication. 
The  sacred  vessels  and  ornaments  were  to  be  removed 
from  the  altar — the  cross  to  be  laid  on  the  ground — 
twelve  priests,  holding  torches  in  their  hands,  were  to 
light  them  first,  and  immediately  to  dash  them  down, 
and  extinguish  them  by  trampling  them  under  foot ; 
the  bishop  was  then  to  proclaim  the  condemnation  of 
those  ungodly  men ;  the  bells  were  to  be  tolled  ;  the 
bishop  and  the  priests  in  concert  were  to  chant  anathe- 
mas and  maledictions  ;  and  the  service  was  to  be  con- 
cluded by  a  discourse  of  unsparing  severity  against 
Luther  and  his  adherents. 

Twenty-two  days  had  elapsed  since  the  publication 
of  the  sentence  at  Rome,  though  it  probably  had  not 
yet  transpired  in  Germany,  when  Luther  having  heard 
that  it  was  again  in  contemplation  to  summon  him  to 
Worms,  addressed  a  letter  to  the  Elector,  couched  in 
such  terms  as  to  give  that  Prince  the  option  of  com- 
municating it  to  the  Diet.  Luther  was  anxious  to  cor- 
rect the  erroneous  notions  entertained  by  the  Princes 
who  composed  that  august  assembly — and  candidly  to 
explain  to  them  the  true  merits  of  a  cause  so  little 
understood.  "  I  rejoice  with  all  my  heart,  most  serene 
Prince,"  said  he,  "  that  his  Imperial  Majesty  is  disposed 
to  have  this  affair  brought  before  him.  I  call  Christ 
to  witness  that  it  is  the  cause  of  the  German  nation,  of 
the  Catholic  church,  of  the  Christian  world — of  God 
himself — not  the  causeof  a  solitary,  humble  individual. J 
I  am  ready  to  repair  to  Worms,  provided  only  that  a 
safe-conduct,  and  learned,  pious,  and  impartial  judges 
be  allowed  me.  I  am  ready  to  answer  for  myself — for 
it  is  not  in  the  spirit  of  recklessness,  nor  for  the  sake 
of  worldly  profit,  that  I  have  taught  the  doctrine  which 
is  laid  to  my  charge — I  have  taught  it  in  obedience 
to  my  conscience,  and  to  my  oath,  as  a  doctor  of  the 

*  Exodus  xxvi.  7,  14. 

f  So  regete  sich  der  Ch'ristus,  dass  sie  so  fest  wurden  dasa 
der  Tuefel  fliechen  musste.  (L.  Opp.  ix.  613,  on  John  vi.  56.) 

{  Causamquse,  Christo  teste,  Dei,  christianiorbis,  ecclesiae 
catholicae  et  totius  Germanics  nationis,  et  non  unius  et  pri- 
vati  est  hominis.  (L.  Epp.  i.  511.) 


POLITICAL  COUNCILS—THE  CONFESSOR  AND  THE  CHANCELLOR. 


163 


Holy  Scriptures — for  God's  glory  have  I  taught  it — 
for  the  salvation  of  the  Christian  Church — for  the  good 
of  the  German  people — for  the  rooting-out  of  gross 
superstition  and  grievous  ahuses — the  cure  of  innumer- 
able evils — the  wiping  away  of  foul  disgrace — the 
overthrow  of  tyranny,  blasphemy,  and  impiety,  in  count- 
less forms." 

This  declaration,  made  at  so  critical  a  moment  of 
Luther's  life,  deserves  to  be  regarded  with  deep  atten- 
tion. Here  we  see  the  motives  by  which  he  was  ac- 
tuated, here  are  the  secret  springs  which  gave  the  first 
impulse  of  revival  to  the  Christian  community.  We 
find  no  traces  here  of  monkish  emulation,  or  a  desire 
to  break  loose  from  the  restraint  of  monastic  vows. 

But  all  this  was  of  little  moment  to  mere  politicians. 
An  alliance  with  the  Pope  was  every  day  becoming 
more  necessary  to  the  success  of  Charles'  designs. 
Situated  as  he  was,  between  the  Pope  and  the  Elector, 
he  could  have  wished  either  to  separate  Frederic  from 
Luther,  or  to  satisfy  the  Pope  without  offending  Fre- 
deric. But  how  was  this  to  be  accomplished  ]  Many 
of  his  courtiers  treated  the  whole  affair  of  the  Augustine 
monk  with  that  contemptuous  indifference  which  poli- 
ticians generally  affect,  when  the  interests  of  religion 
are  discussed.  "  Let  us  avoid  all  extreme  measures," 
said  they.  "  Let  us  entangle  Luther  in  negotiations, 
and  silence  him  by  the  help  of  some  partial  concessions. 
To  stifle  the  flame,  not  fan  it — is  the  course  of  true 
policy.  If  the  monk  fall  into  the  trap,  we  have  gained 
our  object.  By  accepting  a  compromise,  he  will  fix  a 
gag  on  his  own  mouth,  and  ruin  his  cause.  To  save 
appearances,  a  few  external  reforms  must  be  granted, 
the  Elector  will  be  satisfied,  the  Pope  will  be  conciliat- 
ed, and  things  will  go  on  once  more  in  the  ordinary 
track." 

Such  was  the  plan  devised  by  the  confidants  of  the 
Emperor. 

The  doctors  of  Wittemberg  appear  to  have  discov- 
ered this  new  artifice.  "  They  are  trying  to  gain  men 
over  secretly,"  said  Melancthon,  "  and  mining  in  the 
dark."*  John  Glapio,  the  Emperor's  confessor,  a  man 
in  high  repute,  an  adroit  courtier,  and  a  wily  monk, 
was  charged  with  the  execution  of  the  scheme.  Glapio 
possessed  the  full  confidence  of  Charles,  who,  adopting 
in  this  particular  the  Spanish  custom,  abandoned  to 
him  almost  entirely  the  care  of  all  matters  relating  to 
religion.  Charles  had  no  sooner  been  elevated  to  the 
imperial  throne,  than  Leo  hastened  to  gain  the  good 
will  of  Glapio  by  marks  of  favour  which  the  confessor 
warmly  acknowledged.!  He  could  not  better  discharge 
his  debt  of  gratitude  to  the  Pontiff  than  by  silencing 
the  new-born  heresy,  and  accordingly  applied  himself 
to  the  work.J 

Among  the  counsellors  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony, 
one  who  held  a  conspicuous  place,  was  Gregory  Bruck, 
or  Pontanus,  a  man  distinguished  for  intelligence,  de- 
cision, and  courage,  whose  skill  in  divinity  might  have 
shamed  all  the  doctors  ;  while  his  wisdom  was  ade- 
quate to  baffle  the  united  craft  of  all  the  monks  in  the 
court  of  Charles  the  Fifth.  Glapio,  knowing  the  in- 
fluence which  the  chancellor  possessed,  requested  an 
interview  with  him,  and  introducing  himself,  as  though 
he  had  been  a  friend  of  the  Reformer:  "  I  was  filled 
with  joy,"  said  he,  in  a  kindly  tone,  "  when  I  read  the 
first  writtings  of  Luther ;  I  looked  upon  him  as  a  vi- 
gorous tree  that  had  shot  forth  goodly  branches,  and  gave 
promise  to  the  Church  of  the  most  precious  fruit. 

*  Blanculum  tentent  et  experiantur  . . .  (Corp.  Reform,  i. 
281,  3.  Feb.) 

t  Beniguis  officiis  recens  a  Pontifice  delinitus  . .  (Pallavici- 
ni,i.90) 

j  Et  sane  in  eo  toto  negotio  singulare  probitatis  ardorisque 
specimen  debit.  (Ibid.) 


Many  others,  it  is  true,  had  entertained  the  same  views 
as  he  :  but  none  had  so  nobly  and  undauntedly  pro- 
claimed the  truth.  But  when  I  read  his  book  on  the 
Babylonian  Captivity,  I  felt  like  a  man  stunned  and 
overwhelmed  by  a  shower  of  blows  from  head  to  foot. 
I  cannot  believe,"  added  the  monk,  "  that  brother 
Martin  will  avow  himself  the  author  of  it ;  it  is  marked 
neither  by  his  peculiar  style,  nor  by  the  learning  he 
elsewhere  evinces."  After  some  discussion,  the  Con- 
fessor continued  :  "  Conduct  me  to  the  Elector,  and 
in  your  presence  I  will  show  him  where  Luther  has 
erred." 

The  chancellor  replied,  that  the  business  of  the  Diet 
left  his  Highness  no  leisure  ;  and,  moreover,  that  he 
took  no  part  in  that  affair.  The  monk,  to  his  great  vex- 
atfon,  found  his  request  eluded.  "  Nevertheless,"  said 
the  chancellor,  "  since  you  say  there  is  no  evil  with- 
out a  remedy,  be  pleased  to  explain  yourself." 

Assuming  a  confidential  air,  the  confessor  answered  : 
"  The  emperor  earnestly  desires  to  see  a  man  like  Lu- 
ther reconciled  to  the  church ;  for  his  books  (before 
the  publication  of  the  treatise  on  the  Babylonian  Cap- 
tivity) were  by  no  means  disagreeable  to  his  Majesty.* 
That  last  work  of  Luther's  was,  doubtless,  written  un- 
der the  irritation  of  being  excited  by  the  bull.  Let  him, 
but  declare  that  he  had  no  intention  to  disturb  the 
peace  of  the  church,  and  the  learned  of  every  nation 
will  join  hands  with  him.  Procure  me  an  audience  of 
his  Highness." 

The  chancellor  waited  on  the  elector  again.  Fre- 
deric well  knew  that  any  retraction  was  impossible. 
"  Tell  the  confessor,"  said  he,  "  that  I  cannot  com- 
ply with  his  wish,  but  continue  your  conference  with 
him." 

Glapio  received  this  message  with  many  demonstra- 
tions of  respect ;  and,  shifting  his  ground,  he  said  : 
"  Let  the  elector  name  some  persons  in  whom  he  places 
confidence  to  deliberate  on  this  affair." 

THE  CHANCELLOR.  "  The  elector  does  not  profess 
to  be  Luther's  advocate."t 

THE  CONFESSOR  "  Well,  then,  you  and  I,  at  least, 
can  take  the  matter  up.  Christ  is  my  witness  that  I 
urge  this  from  love  to  the  church,  and  to  Luther  him- 
self, who  has  opened  so  many  hearts  to  the  truth." 

The  chancellor,  having  refused  to  undertake  a  task 
which  properly  belonged  to  the  Reformer  himself,  was 
about  to  withdraw. 

"  Stay  !"    said  the  monk. 

THE  CHANCELLOR.     "  What  is  your  wish  ?" 

THE  CONFESSOR.  "  Let  Luther  deny  that  he  is 
the  author  of  the  Babylonian  Captivity.'1'' 

THE  CHANCELLOR.  "But  the  pope's  bull  con- 
demns all  his  other  works." 

THE  CONFESSOR.  "  That  was  because  of  his  ob- 
stinacy. If  he  disclaims  that  book,  the  pope,  in  vir- 
tue of  his  plenary  authority,  can  easily  reverse  the  sen- 
tence of  excommunication.  What  may  we  not  hope 
for,  now  that  we  have  so  excellent  an  emperor  T" 

Perceiving  that  these  words  had  made  some  impres- 
sion on  the  chancellor,  the  monk  followed  them  up  by- 
observing  :  "  Luther  always  wants  to  argue  from  the  Bi- 
ble. The  Bible — it  is  like  wax,  you  may  stretch  and 
mould  it  any  way  that  you  please.  I  would  undertake  to 
find  authority  in  the  Bible  for  doctrines  more  extrava- 
gant, even,  than  Luther's.  He  runs  into  error  by  inter- 
preting every  word  of  Christ  into  a  command."  Wish 
ing  next  to  act  upon  the  other's  fears,  he  added  :  "What 
would  the  issue  be  if,  to-morrow,  or  the  next  day,  the 
emperor  were  to  have  recourse  to  arms  1  .  .  .  Think 
of  that." 

*  Es  haben  dessen  Bucher  Jhro  Majestat  .  .  .  urn  et  was 
gefallen.     (Archives  of  Weimar.— Seek  end.  p.  315.) 
t  Derandern  das  Hertz  zu  vielem  Guten  eroffnet  .  .  (Ibid.) 


164        UNAVAILING  MANOEUVRES— ERASMUS'S  DECLARATION— THE  BRIEFS. 


The  confessor's  artifices  were  -not  yet  exhausted 
41  A  man  might  have  lived  ten  years  in  his  company," 
says  Erasmus,  "  without  having  fathomed  him  at  last." 

"  What  an  excellent  book,"  said  he  to  the  Chan- 
cellor, on  his  next  visit,  a  few  days  afterward  ;  "  is  that 
work  of  Luther's  on  Christian  Liberty  ?  What  wis- 
dom, what  learning,  what  wit  does  it  display  ;  it  is  the 
production  of  a  scholar  indeed  !  .  .  .  .  Let  men  of 
irreproachable  character  be  chosen  on  both  sides,  and 
let  the  pope  and  Luther  agree  to  abide  by  their  judg- 
ment. In  many  articles,  it  is  past  a  doubt,  that  a  deci- 
sion would  be  in  Luther's  favour.*  ....  I  will 
speak  to  the  emperor  about  it  myself.  Believe  me,  I 
am  not  without  grounds  for  what  I  say  to  you.  I  have 
told  the  emperor  that  the  chastisements  of  God  would 
fall  upon  him,  and  the  princes  also,  unless  the  church, 
the  spouse  of  Christ,  were  cleansed  from  all  those 
stains  which  now  defile  her.  I  told  him,  too,  that  God 
had  raised  up  Luther,  and  given  him  a  commission  to 
reprove  men  for  their  sins,  using  him  as  a  rod  to  pun- 
ish the  offences  of  the  world."! 

These  words  we  may  receive  as  the  echo  of  the  po- 
pular voice  at  that  period,  and  as  testifying  the  opinion 
which  was  then  entertained  of  Luther,  even  by  his 
enemies.  The  chancellor,  roused  by  what  the  monk 
had  just  said,  could  not  help  expressing  his  surprise, 
that  his  master  should  be  treated  with  so  little  defer- 
ence. "  The  emperor  holds  daily  consultations  on  this 
affair,"  said  he,  "  and  the  elector  is  invited  to  none 
of  them.  He  thinks  it  strange  that  the  emperor,  to 
whom  be  has  rendered  some  service,  should  exclude 
him  from  his  councils." 

THE  CONFESSOR.  "  I  was  never  present  at  any  of 
those  deliberations  but  once,  and  on  that  occasion  I 
heard  the  emperor  resist  the  importunities  of  the  le- 
gates. Five  years  hence  it  will  be  seen  what  Charles 
has  done  for  the  Reformation  of  the  church." 

"  The  elector,"  replied  Pontanus,  "  knows  nothing 
of  Luther's  intentions.  Let  him  be  summoned  hither 
to  speak  for  himself." 

The  confessor  replied,  with  a  deep  sigh  :J  "  I  call 
God  to  witness,  how  ardently  I  desire  to  see  the  Re- 
formation of  Christendom  accomplished." 

To  slacken  the  course  of  the  affair — to  keep  Lu- 
ther's mouth  closed,  in  the  meantime — this  was  the 
sum  of  what  Glapio  aimed  at.  At  all  events,  to  pre- 
vent Luther  from  coming  to  Worms.  To  the  nuncios, 
the  monks,  and  the  rest  of  the  papal  phalanx,  a  dead 
man,  returning  from  the  other  world,  and  appearing  in 
the  midst  of  the  Diet,  would  not  have  been  so  fearful 
a  spectacle  as  the  bodily  presence  of  the  Doctor  of 
Wittemberg. 

"  How  many  days  does  it  take  to  travel  from  Wit- 
temberg to  Worms  ?"  inquired  the  confessor,  in  a  tone 
of  affected  indifference,  and  immediately  departed, 
having  first  entreated  Pontanus  to  present  his  very  re- 
spectful salutations  to  the  elector. 

Such  were  the  stratagems  practised  by  the  court- 
iers. The  firmness  of  Pontanus  disconcerted  them 
all.  That  upright  man  was  unmoved  as  a  rock  through- 
out the  whole  course  of  these  proceedings.  And,  in  the 
end,  the  monks  themselves  fell  into  the  snare  which 
they  had  laid  for  their  enemies.  "The  Christian," 
says  Luther,  in  his  figurative  language,  "  is  like  a  bird 
tethered  beside  a  trap.  Wolves  and  foxes  prowl  around 
it,  and  at  length  spring  upon  their  prey.  But  they 
fall  into  the  pit,  and  perish  there,  while  that  timorous 
bird  remains  unharmed.  Thus  it  is  that  we  are 

*  Es  sey  nicht  zu  zwoifeln  dass  Luthcrus  in  vielen  Artikeln 
werde  den  Sieg  davon  tragen  .  .  •  (Seckend.  p.  319.) 

+  Dass  Got  diesen  Mann  gesandt,  .  .  .  dass  er  eine  Geissel 
•eye  um  der  Surden  willen.  (Weimar  Archiv. — Seek.  p.  320.) 

\  Glapio  that  hierauf  einen  tiefen  Seufzer,  un  rufte  Gott  zum 
Zeugen.  (Ibid  221.) 


areserved  by  the  holy  angels,  and  those  devouring 
wolves,  the  hypocrites  and  persecutors,  are  restrained 
"rom  doing  us  any  hurt-"*  Not  only  were  the  arti- 
ices  of  the  confessor  unavailing,  but  the  admissions 
had  made,  confirmed  Frederic  in  his  opinion  that 
Luther  was  in  the  right,  and  that  it  was  his  duty  to 
protect  him. 

The  hearts  of  men  were  still  inclining  more  strongly 
:oward  the  Gospel.  A  Dominican  prior  proposed  that 
the  emperor,  the  kings  of  France,  Spain,  England,  Por- 
ugal,  Hungary,  and  Poland,  the  pope  and  the  elect- 
ors, should  name  representatives,  to  whom  the  deter- 
mination of  the  controversy  should  be  committed.  "  A 
case  like  this,"  it  was  urged,  "  has  never  been  de- 
cided by  the  pope  alone."t  Such  was  the  spirit  now 
everywhere  prevalent,  that  it  seemed  impossible  to 
condemn  Luther  without  having  heard  and  convicted 
lim.t 

Aleander,  in  the  height  of  his  alarm,  displayed  un- 
wonted energy.  It  was  no  longer  against  the  elector, 
and  Luther  alone,  that  he  had  to  contend.  The  se- 
cret negotiations  of  the  confessor,  the  plan  of  accom- 
modation proposed  by  the  Dominican,  the  acquiesence 
of  Charles's  ministers,  the  coldness  of  Romish  piety, 
even  among  the  most  devoted  friends  of  the  pontiff — 

coldness  which  Pallavicini  likens  to  that  produced 
by  the  gush  of  some  icy  stream^ — all  these  circum- 
stances Aleander  viewed  with  a  foreboding  eye.  He 
lad,  at  length,  received  from  Rome  the  money  he  had 
applied  for  ;  he  had  in  his  possession  briefs  couched 
n  the  strongest  language,  and  addressed  to  the  high- 
est authorities  in  the  Empire. ||  Fearful  lest  his  vic- 
tim should  escape  him,  he  conceived  that  now  was 
the  time  to  strike  the  decisive  blow.  He  forwarded 
the  briefs  to  the  several  parties  to  whom  they  were  di- 
rected ;  he  scattered  silver  and  gold  with  an  unspar- 
ng  hand ;  he  lavished  the  most  alluring  promises  ; 
"  and,  aided  by  his  three-fold  machinery,"  says  the  car- 
dinal, whose  narrative  we  follow,  "  made  a  fresh  effort 
to  draw  the  wavering  assembly  to  the  pope's  side."1T  For 
the  emperor  he  planted  his  snares  with  special  diligence. 
He  took  advantage  of  the  dissentions  between  the 
Flemish  and  Spanish  ministers.  He  laid  incessant 
siege  to  the  sovereign's  ear.  The  friends  of  Rome, 
waking  at  his  call  from  their  torpor,  pressed  the 
youthful  Charles  with  their  united  solicitations.  "Not 
a  day  passes,"  wrote  the  elector,  to  his  brother  John, 
"  but  measures  hostile  to  Luther  are  brought  forward  ; 
his  enemies  now  demand  that  he  should  be  placed  un- 
der the  ban  of  the  pope  and  the  emperor  jointly  ;  to 
injure  him,  by  every  possible  method,  is  their  single 
aim.  The  men  who  parade  their  red  hats  before  us — 
the  Romans  and  their  followers — pursue  this  work 
with  an  unwearied  zeal."** 

Aleander  did,  in  reality,  urge  the  condemnation  of 
the  Reformer,  with  an  impetuosity  which  Luther  him- 
self designates  as  "  incredible  fury. "ft  The  Apostate 
nuncio,tl  as  Luther  calls  him,  was,  on  one  occasion, 
transported  by  his  anger  so  far  beyond  the  bounds  of 
caution,  that  he  cried  aloud  :  "  If  ye  seek  to  shake  off 
your  allegiance  to  Rome,  ye  Germans,  we  will  bring 
things  to  such  a  pass  that  ye  shall  unsheath  the  sword 

*  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  1655. 

f  Und  niemals  dem  Papst  allein  geglaubt.    (Seek.  p.  323.) 

|  Spalatinus  scribit  tantum  favoris  Evangelic  esse  istie  ut 

me  inauditum  et  inconvictum  damnari  non  speret.     (L.  Epp. 

i.  556.  9.  Feb.) 
(j  Hinc  aqua  manabat,  quae  succensas  pietatis  aestum  restin- 

guebat.     (Pallavicini,  i.  96.) 
||  Mandata,  pcauniae  et  diplomata.     (Ibid.  95.) 
IF  Triplici  hac  industria  nunc  Aleander  .  .  .  (Ibid.) 
*T  Das  thun  die  in  rothen  Huten  prangen.    (Seek.  364.) 
tj-  Miro  furore  'Papist®  moliunter  mini  mala.     (L.  Epp.  i. 

556.) 
H  Nuntius  apostaticus  (playing  on  the  word  "  apostolical,") 

agitsum  mis  viribus.    (Ibid.  569.) 


THE  THREATS— THE  AUDIENCE— SPEECH  OF  ALEANDER. 


165 


of  extermination  against  each  other,  and  perish  in  your 
own  blood  !"*  "It  is  in  this  way  that  the  pope  feeds 
Christ's  sheep,"  observes  the  Reformer. 

But  much  unlike  this  was  the  language  he  used 
himself.  For  his  own  sake  he  asked  nothing.  "Lu- 
ther," said  Melancthon,  "  is  ready  to  purchase  the 
glory  and  advancement  of  the  Gospel  at  the  cost  of 
his  own  life."t  But  he  trembled  when  he  thought  of 
the  calamities  of  which  his  death  might  be  the  signal. 
He  saw  a  misguided  people  avenging  his  martyrdom, 
probably  by  shedding  the  blood  of  his  adversaries,  arid 
especially  that  of  the  priests.  He  deprecated  so  ter- 
rible a  responsibility.  "  God,"  said  he,  "  is  restrain- 
ing the  fury  of  his  enemies,  but  if  it  break  loose  .  .  . 
then  shall  we  see  a  storm  bursting  on  the  heads  of  the 
priests,  like  that  which  formerly  swept  over  Bohemia  and 
laid  it  waste.  I  shall  not  have  to  answer  for  this,  for 
I  have  made  it  my  earnest  prayer  that  the  German 
princes  would  oppose  the  Romans  by  the  wisdom  of 
their  counsel,  not  by  the  sword.\  To  war  against 
priests,  a  timid  and  helpless  tribe,  is  to  war  against 
women  and  childern." 

Charles  the  Fifth  did  not  long  hold  out  against  the 
solicitations  of  the  nuncio.  The  bigotry  he  inherited 
from  his  Flemish  and  Spanish  ancestors,  had  been 
successfully  fostered  by  his  preceptor,  Adrian,  who,  at 
a  later  period,  ascended  the  pontifical  throne.  But  it 
was  necessary  to  obtain  the  concurrence  of  the  state. 
"  Convince  the  Diet,11  said  the  youthful  monarch. 
This  was  exactly  what  Aleander  desired  ;  it  was  agreed 
that  he  should  be  introduced  to  the  assembly  on  the 
13th  of  February. 

The  nuncio  duly  prepared  himself  for  that  solemn 
audience.  It  was  a  weighty  task  that  had  been  im- 
posed upon  him  ;  but  Aleander  was  worthy  to  sustain 
it.  He  was  not  merely  the  legate,  and  representative 
of  the  sovereign  pontiff,  invested  with  all  the  outward 
dignity  befitting  his  exalted  functions,  he  was  also  one 
of  the  most  eloquent  men  of  his  age.  The  friends  of 
the  Reformation  waited  the  result  in  some  anxiety. 
The  elector,  under  the  pretext  of  indisposition,  absent- 
ed himself  from  the  sitting;  but  he  instructed  some  of 
his  counsellors  to  attend,  and  to  take  notes  of  the  nun- 
cio's discourse. 

On  the  appointed  day,  Aleander  proceeded  to  the 
imperial  asssembly.  The  feelings  of  the  people  were 
strongly  excited  ;  many  called  to  mind  how  Annas  and 
Caiaphas  had  gone  to  the  judgment-hall  of  Pilate,  to 
demand  the  death  of  him  "  who  perverted  the  nation." 
At  the  moment  when  the  nuncio  had  his  foot  upon  the 
threshold,  the  usher  of  the  Diet,  says  Pallavicini,  rude- 
ly stepping  up  to  him,  set  his  clenched  fist  against 
his  breast,  and  thrust  him  back.  II  "  He  was  a  Luther- 
an in  his  heart,"  adds  the  Romish  historian.  If  this 
anecdote  is  true,  it  certainly  shows  an  unseemly  ex- 
cess of  passion  in  the  individual,  but  it  also  enables 
us  to  judge  how  powerful  an  effect  had  been  produced 
by  Luther's  teaching,  even  among  those  who  kept  the 
doors  of  the  Germanic  council.  The  high-spirited  Ale- 
ander, repressing  the  officer's  insolence  by  his  digm 
fied  demeanor,  walked  forward  and  entered  the  hall 
Never  had  Rome  been  summoned  to  plead  her  cause 
before  so  august  an  assembly.  The  nuncio  placed  be- 
fore him  such  documents  as  he  thought  necessary  to 
certify  the  sentence  of  condemnation,  together  with 
the  writings  of  Luther  and  the  papal  bulls  ;  and  then 

*  Ut  mutuis  caedibus  absumpti  vestro  cruore  pereatis.  (Ibid 

t  Libenter  etiam  morte  sua  Evangelii  gloriam  et  profectum 
emerit.  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  285.) 

\  Non  ferro,  sed  consiliis  et  edictis.   (L.  Epp.  i.  56.) 

^  Luke  xxiii.  2. 

|| ...  Pugnis  ejus  pectori  admotis  repulerit.  (Pallavicini, 
112.) 


ilence  having  been  proclaimed  in  the  Diet,  he  spoke 
s  follows  : 

"Most  august  Emperor!     most   potent   Princes! 
most  excellent  Deputies  !    I  appear  before  you  to  ad- 
vocate the  cause  which  engages  the  warmest  affec- 
ions  of  my  heart.     My  office  is  to  guard  the  ever- 
allowed  tiara  that  rests  on  the  brows  of  my  master  ; 
o  uphold  that  pontifical  throne,  in  whose  defence  I 
would  gladly  deliver  my  body  to  the  flames,  were  I 
•nly  assured  that  the  newly-spawned  heresy,  which  I 
tand  forth  to  denounce,  would  perish  along  with  me.* 

"  I  deny  the  assertion,  that  the  controversy  between 
juther  and  Rome  is  one  in  which  the  pope  alone  is 
nterested.  I  have  Luther's  writings  here  before  me, 
nd  any  man,  who  has  his  eyesight,  may  see  that  they 
ttack  the  holy  doctrines  of  the  church.  He  teaches 
hat  those  alone  are  worthy  communicants,  whose  con- 
sciences are  filled  with  sorrow  and  confusion  on  ac- 
count of  their  sins,  and  that  baptism  justifies  no  one 
unless  he  hath  faith  in  that  word  of  promise  of  which 
aptism  is  the  pledge.!  He  denies  the  necessity  of 
good  works  to  qualify  us  for  everlasting  glory.  'He 
denies  that  we  have  liberty  and  power  to  obey  the  law 
of  nature  and  the  law  of  God.  He  affirms  that  we 
sin  of  necessity  in  all  our  actions.  Have  weapons  bet- 
.er  fitted  than  these  to  sever  all  the  ties  of  morality 
jver  been  drawn  from  the  arsenal  of  hell  ? 

"  He  contends  for  the  abrogation  of  religious  vows. 
What  miserable  disorder  would  the  world  behold,  if 
hose  who  were  designed  to  be  the  leaven  of  their  race, 
were  to  cast  aside  their  sacred  vestments,  forsake  the 
emples  that  once  resounded  with  their  holy  songs,  and 
)lunge  at  once  into  adultery,  incest,  and  licentious- 
ness. 

'  Why  should  I  enumerate  all  the  crimes  of  this  au- 
dacious monk  ?  He  sins  against  the  dead,  for  he  de- 
nies the  existence  of  purgatory ;  he  sins  against  heaven, 
or  he  says  that  he  would  not  believe  an  angel  sent 
rom  heaven  ;  he  sins  against  the  church,  for  he  main- 
;ains  that  all  Christians  are  priests  ;  he  sins  against 
the  saints,  for  he  treats  their  venerable  writings  with 
contempt ;  he  sins  against  councils,  for  he  calls  the 
Council  of  Constance  an  assembly  of  devils  ;  he  sins 
against  the  secular  power,  for  he  forbids  the  punish- 
ment of  death  to  be  inflcted  on  any  one  who  has  not 
committed  a  mortal  sin.J  There  are  people  who  tell 
us  he  is  a  man  of  piety.  I  will  not  impugn  his  private 
character  ;  I  will  only  remind  this  assembly,  that  it 
"s  a  common  thing  for  the  devil  to  deceive  men  under 
the  appearance  of  sanctity." 

Aleander  next  adverted  to  the  decree  of  the  Coun- 
cil of  Florence,  condemning  the  doctrine  of  purgatory, 
and  laid  the  pope's  bull,  regarding  that  council,  at  the 
emperor's  feet.  The  Archbishop  of  Mentz  took  up  the 
bull,  and  gave  it  into  the  hands  of  the  Archbishops 
of  Cologne  and  Treves,  who  received  it  reverently, 
and  handed  it  to  the  other  princes.  The  nuncio  hav- 
ing thus  preferred  his  charge  against  Luther,  proceed- 
ed in  his  second  object,  the  justification  of  Rome. 

*  Dummodo  mecum  una  monstrum  nascentis  haeresis  arde- 
ret.  (Pallavicini,  i.  97.)  Seckendorf,  and,  after  him,  other 
Protestant  historians,  have  asserted  that  Pallavicini  himself  is 
the  author  of  the  speech  which  he  puts  into  the  mouth  of  Ale- 
ander. It  is  true  that  the  cardinal  admits  haying  moulded  it 
into  the  shape  in  which  he  presents  it  to  his  readers  ;  but  he 
specifies  the  materials  he  has  used,  and  among  these,  Alean- 
der's  letters,  deposited  in  the  archives  of  the  Vatican.  (Acts 
Wormatise,  fol.  66  and  99.)  I  think,  therefore,  to  reject  it  al- 
together would  be  injudicious.  I  have  collected  some  addi- 
tional  passages  of  the  speech  from  other  sources,  Protestant 
and  Romish. 

\  Bapismum  neminem  justificare,  sed  fidem  in  verbum 
promissionis  cui  additur  Baptismus.  (Cochlaeus,  Act.  Luth- 
28-; 

\  Weil  er  verbiete  jemand  mit  Todes  Strafe  zu  belegen  der 
nicht  ein  Todsunde  begangen.  (Seckend.  p.  333.) 


166 


APPEAL  TO  CHARLES— FEELINGS  OF  THE  PRINCES. 


"  Luther  tells  us,  that  at  Rome  the  lips  profess  what 
the  life  belies.  If  this  be  true,  must  not  the  inference 
we  draw  from  it  be  exactly  the  opposite  of  his  ?  If 
the  ministers  of  any  religion  live  in  accordance  with 
its  precepts,  that  very  token  proves  the  religion  to  be 
false.  Such  was  the  religion  of  the  ancient  Romans. 
Such  is  that  of  Mahomet,  and  that  of  Luther  himself. 
But  such  is  not  the  religion  taught  us  by  the  Roman 
pontiffs.  No  !  the  doctrine  they  profess  condemns 
them  all,  as  having  failed  in  their  duty  ;  many  of  them 
as  highly  blame-worthy  ;  some,  I  frankly  confess  it, 
as  deeply  criminal.*  ....  By  that  doctrine  their 
actions  are  delivered  over  to  the  censure  of  men's 
tongues,  while  they  live — to  the  execration  of  history 
after  their  death. t  Now,  what  pleasure,  or  what  pro- 
fit, I  ask,  can  the  pontiffs  have  proposed  to  themselves, 
in  inventing  a  religion  like  this  ? 

"  The  church,  we  shall  be  told,  in  the  early  ages, 
was  not  governed  by  the  Roman  pontiffs  ....  and 
what  is  the  inference  here "!  If  an  argument  like  this 
is  to  have  any  weight,  we  may  next  exhort  men  to  feed 
upon  acorns,  or  princesses  of  the  royal  blood  to  go 
forth  and  wash  their  garments  by  the  river-side  ?" 

But  the  nuncio's  main  attack  was  directed  person- 
ally against  his  antagonist,  the  Reformer.  Adverting 
indignantly  to  the  opinion  expressed  by  some,  that  Lu- 
ther ought  to  be  heard  :  "  Luther,"  cried  he,  "  will  al- 
low himself  to  be  set  right  by  no  one.  Long  ago  the 
pope  summoned  him  to  Rome,  but  he  obeyed  not  the 
call  The  pope  then  required  him  to  appear  before 
his  legate,  at  Augsburg,  and  he  did  appear  there,  when 
he  had  obtained  a  safe  conduct  from  the  emperor — 
that  is  to  say,  when  the  legate's  hands  were  tied,  and 
the  use  of  his  tongue  alone  allowed  him.  J  ....  Oh," 
said  Aleander,  turning  toward  Charles,  "  I  beseech 
your  Imperial  Majesty  not  to  do  that  which  could  only 
reflect  dishonour  upon  your  name.  Meddle  not  with  an 
affair  in  which  the  laity  have  no  right  to  interpose.  Dis- 
charge the  duty  that  properly  devolves  upon  you.  Let 
Luther's  doctrines  be  proscribed,  by  your  authority, 
throughout  the  empire.  Let  his  writings  be  everywhere 
committed  to  the  flames.  Shrink  not  from  the  path 
of  justice.  There  is  enough,  in  the  writings  of  Luther, 
to  warrant  the  burning  of  a  hundred  thousand  here- 
tics.$  And  whom  have  we  to  fear"!  The  multitude  ? 
Their  insolence  makes  them  formidable,  while  the  bat- 
tle is  delayed,  but  when  it  comes  their  cowardice  will 
render  them  contemptible.  Foreign  princes  1  Nay  ! 
the  King  of  France  has  issued  an  edict,  to  prevent 
Luther's  doctrines  from  gaining  an  entrance  into  his 
dominions.  The  King  of  England  is  preparing  to  com- 
bat him  with  his  own  royal  pen.  The  opinion  of  Hun- 
gary, Italy,  and  Spain,  it  is  for  yourselves  to  declare, 
and  there  is  not  one  of  your  neighbours,  how  great  so- 
ever their  hatred  against  you,  who  would  wish  you  so 
much  mischief,  as  this  heresy  must  entail  upon  you. 
For  if  our  enemy  dwells  close  beside  us,  we  may,  per- 
haps, desire  that  the  ague  should  enter  his  house,  but 
not  the  plague.  What  are  all  these  Lutherans  ?  A 
motley  rabble  of  insolent  grammarians,  licentious 
priests,  disorderly  monks,  ignorant  advocates,  degraded 
nobles,  misled  and  perverted  plebeians.  How  greatly 
superior  is  the  Catholic  party,  in  numbers,  in  intelli- 
gence, in  power  ?  An  unanimous  decree  of  this  illus- 
trious assembly,  will  open  the  eyes  of  the  simple,  show 
the  unwary  their  danger,  determine  the  wavering,  and 

*  ....  Multos  ut  quadantenus  reos,  nonnullos  (dicam  in- 
genue) ut  scelestos.  (Pallavicini,  i.  101.) 

t  Linguarum  vitupe  ration!  dum  vivunt,  historiarum  infa- 
mise post  mortem.  (Ibid.) 

J  Quod  idem  erat  ac  revinctis  legati  brachiis  et  lingua  so- 
lum  soluta.  (Ibid.  109.) 

§  Das  100,000  Ketzer  ihrenthalben  verbrannt  werden. 
(Seek.  p.  332.) 


strengthen  the  weak-hearted.  But  if  the  axe  be  rot 
laid  to  the  root  of  this  venomous  plant — if  the  deaih- 
blow  be  not  dealt  against  it — then  I  behold  it  covering 
Christ's  heritage  with  its  branches,  changing  the  vine- 
yard of  the  Lord  into  a  howling  wilderness,  convert- 
ing God's  kingdom  into  a  haunt  of  wild  beasts,  plung- 
ing Germany  into  the  same  wretched  condition  of  bar- 
barism and  desolation  to  which  Asia  has  been  reduced 
by  the  superstition  of  Mahomet." 

The  nuncio  concluded  his  address.  He  had  spoken 
for  three  hours.  His  impetuous  eloquence  had  pro- 
duced a  strong  sensation  in  the  assembly.  The  princes 
looked  at  each  other,  Cochlseus  tells  us,  with  counte- 
lances  that  betrayed  excitement  and  alarm,  and  mur- 
murs were  soon  heard  to  arise,  from  various  quarters, 
against  Luther,  and  those  who  supported  him.*  If  the 
energetic  Luther  had  been  present  to  reply  to  this  ad- 
dress— if,  taking  advantage  of  those  admissions  which 
the  remembrance  of  the  infamous  Borgia,  his  former 
master,  had  wrung  from  the  Roman  orator,  lie  had 
shown,  that  the  very  arguments  by  which  the  nuncio 
attempted  to  defend  Rome,  were  sufficient  to  condemn 
her.  If  he  had  demonstrated  that  the  doctrine  which 
bore  witness  to  her  iniquity  was  not  that  invented  by 
her,  as  the  orator  had  said,  but  was  that  pure  religion 
which  Christ  had  given  to  the  world,  and  which  it  was 
the  aim  of  the  Reformation  to  re-establish  in  its  primi- 
tive lustre ;  if  he  had  drawn  a  faithful  and  vivid  pic- 
ture of  the  errors  and  abuses  of  the  papacy,  and  point- 
ed out  how  it  converted  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ 
into  an  engine  of  self-aggrandisement  and  spoliation,  the 
effect  of  the  nuncio's  harangue  would  have  been  utterly 
and  at  once  destroyed — but  no  one  rose  to  speak.  The 
assembly  continued  under  the  influence  of  the  address, 
and,  in  the  first  moments  of  agitation  and  excitement, 
it  manifested  a  strong  desire  to  root  out  the  Lutheran 
heresy  from  the  soil  of  the  empire. t 

Nevertheless,  this  victory  was  won  in  appearance 
only.  It  was  the  will  of  God  that  Rome  should  have 
an  opportunity  of  displaying  the  utmost  strength  of 
her  cause  with  her  utmost  skill.  The  greatest  of  her 
orators  had  spoken  in  this  assembly  of  princes  ;  he 
had  said  all  that  Rome  had  to  say  in  her  own  behalf; 
but  to  many  of  those  who  heard  him,  this  last  effort  of 
the  papacy  was  destined  to  serve  as  a  sign  of  its  abase- 
ment. If  the  open  confession  of  truth  be  required  to 
secure  its  triumph,  so  also  the  unreserved  exhibition 
of  error,  is  the  necessary  prelude  of  its  overthrow. 
Neither  of  them  can  accomplish  its  course  in  secret. 
The  light  brings  all  things  to  the  test. 

A  few  days  were  sufficient  to  efface  the  impression 
produced  by  the  speech — as  is  always  the  case,  when 
an  orator  has  recourse  to  high-sounding  words,  to  cover 
the  hollowness  of  his  reasoning.  The  majority  of  the 
princes  were  ready  to  sacrifice  Luther,  but  none  were 
disposed  to  abandon  the  rights  of  the  empire,  or  to  sup- 
press the  grievances  of  the  Germanic  nation.  They 
were  willing  enough  to  give  up  the  insolent  monk,  who 
had  dared  to  speak  out  so  plainly  ;  but  their  cornpli 
ance  in  this  particular,  entitled  them,  as  they  thought, 
to  represent  to  the  pope,  more  urgently,  the  justice  of 
a  reform,  demanded  by  the  concurrent  voice  of  the 
chiefs  of  the  nation.  And,  accordingly,  it  was  the 
most  determined  of  Luther's  personal  enemies,  Duke 
George,  of  Saxony,  who  spoke  with  the  greatest  ear- 
nestness against  the  encroachments  of  Rome.  This 
prince,  the  grandson  of  Podiebrad,  King  of  Bohemia, 
though  offended  by  the  doctrine  of  grace,  taught  by 
the  Reformer,  still  looked  forward  with  hope  to  a  Re- 

*  Vehementer  exterriti  atqne  commoti  alter  alterum  intue- 
bantur  atque  in  Lutherum  ejusque  fautores  murmurare  per- 
gunt.  (Cochlfeus,  p.  28.) 

t  Luthernam  haeresin  esse  funditis  evellendam.  (Pallavi- 
cini ;  also  Eoscoe's  Life  of  Leo  X.  vol.  iv.) 


DUKE  GEORGE'S  SPEECH— CHARACTER  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


167 


formation,  moral  and  ecclesiastical.  The  chief  cause 
of  his  irritation  against  the  Monk  of  Wittemberg  was 
that,  by  those  obnoxious  doctrines  of  his,  he  was  spoil- 
ing the  whole  affair.  But  now,  when  he  found  the 
nuncio  studiously  involving  Luther  and  the  Reforma- 
tion of  the  church  in  one  and  the  same  sentence  of 
condemnation,  Duke  George  suddenly  stood  up  to 
speak  in  the  assembly  of  the  princes,  to  the  great  as- 
tonishment of  those  who  knew  his  hostility  to  the  Re- 
former. "  The  Diet,"  said  he,  must  not  lose  sight  o 
the  grievances  of  which  it  has  to  claim  redress  from 
the  court  of  Rome.  How  numerous  are  the  abuses 
that  have  crept  into  our  dominions  !  The  annats,  which 
the  emperor  granted  of  his  free-will,  for  the  good  of  re- 
ligion, are  now  exacted  as  a  due  ;  the  Roman  courtiers, 
daily  inventing  new  regulations  to  favour  the  mono- 
poly, the  sale,  the  leasing  out  of  ecclesiastical  bene- 
fices ;  a  multitude  of  offences  connived  at;  a  scanda- 
lous toleration  granted  to  rich  offenders,  while  those 
who  have  not  wherewithal  to  purchase  impunity,  are 
severely  punished  ;  the  popes  continually  bestowing 
reversions  and  rent-charges  on  the  officers  of  their  pa- 
lace, to  the  prejudice  of  those  to  whom  the  benefices 
rightfully  belong ;  the  abbeys  and  convents  of  Rome, 
given  in  commendam  to  cardinals,  bishops,  and  pre- 
lates, who  apply  their  revenues  to  their  own  use — so 
that  in  many  convents,  where  there  ought  to  be  twenty 
or  thirty  monks,  not  one  is  to  be  found  ;  stations  mul- 
tiplied to  excess ;  shops  for  indulgences  opened  in 
every  street  and  square  of  our  cities  ;  shops  of  Saint 
Anthony,  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  of  Saint  Hubert,  of  Saint 
Vincent,  and  I  know  not  how  many  more  ;  societies, 
contracting  at  Rome  for  the  privilege  of  setting  up  this 
trade,  then  purchasing  from  their  bishop  the  right  of 
exposing  their  merchandise  to  sale ;  and,  finally,  to 
meet  all  this  outlay  of  money,  squeezing  and  draining 
the  last  coin  out  of  the  poor  man's  purse ;  indulgences, 
which  ought  to  be  granted  only  withavjew  to  the  sal- 
vation of  souls,  and  procured  only  by  prayer,  and  fast- 
ing, and  works  of  charity — sold  for  a  price ;  the  offi- 
cials of  the  bishop,  oppressing  men  of  low  degree,  with 
penances  for  blasphemy,  or  adultery,  or  drunkenness, 
or  profanation  of  this  or  that  festival — but  never  address- 
ing so  much  as  a  rebuke  to  ecclesiastics  who  are 
guilty  of  the  same  crimes  ;  penances,  so  devised  as 
To  betray  the  penitent  into  a  repetition  of  his  offence, 
in  order  that  more  money  may  be  exacted  from  him  ;* 
these  are  but  a  few  of  the  abuses  which  cry  out  on 
Rome  for  redress.  All  shame  is  laid  aside,  and  one 
object  alone  incessantly  pursued — money  !  evermore, 
money  ! — so  that  the  very  men,  whose  duty  it  is  to  dis- 
seminate the  truth,  are  engaged  in  nothing  but  the  pro- 
pagation of  falsehood  ;  and  yet,  they  are  not  merely 
tolerated,  but  rewarded — because  the  more  they  lie,  the 
larger  are  their  gains.  This  is  the  foul  source  from 
which  so  many  corrupted  streams  flow  out  on  every  side. 
Profligacy  and  avarice  go  hand  in  hand.  The  offici- 
als summon  women  to  their  houses,  on  various  pre- 
tences, and  endeavour,  either  by  threats  or  by  presents, 
to  seduce  them — and,  if  the  attempt  fails,  they  ruin 
their  reputation. t  Oh !  it  is  the  scandal  occasioned 
by  the  clergy,  that  plunges  so  many  poor  souls  into 
everlasting  perdition.  A  thorough  reform  must  be  ef- 
fected. To  accomplish  that  reform  a  general  council 
must  be  assembled.  Wherefore,  most  excellent  princes 
and  lords,  I  respectfully  beseech  you  to  give  this  mat- 
ter your  immediate  attention."  Duke  George  then 
presented  a  written  catalogue  of  the  grievances  he  had 

*  Sondern  dass  er  es  bald  wieder  begehe  und  mehr  Geld 
erlegen  miisse.  (Archives  of  Weimar.— Seckend.  p  328.) 

f  Das  sie  Weisbesbildor  untcr  mancherley  Schein  besch- 
iken  selbige  sodann  mit  Drohugen  un  Gheschenken  zu  fallen 
suchen,  oder  in  einen  besen  Verdacht  bringen.  (Weimar. 
Archiv.-Seck.  p.  330.) 


enumerated.  This  happened  a  few  days  after  Alean- 
dcr's  address.  The  important  document  has  been  pre- 
served in  the  archives  of  Weimar. 

Luther  himself  had  not  spoken  with  greater  energy 
against  the  abuses  of  Home,  but  he  had  done  something 
more.  The  Duke  pointed  out  the  evil — Luther  alone, 
with  the  evil,  had  pointed  out  also  its  cause  and  its 
cure.  He  had  shown  that  the  sinner  receives  the  true 
indulgence — that  remission  of  sins  which  comes  from 
God — solely  by  faith  in  the  grace  and  merits  of  Christ ; 
and  by  this  simple  yet  powerful  truth  he  had  overthrown 
all  the  traffic  which  had  been  established  by  the  priests. 
"  How  shall  a  man  become  holy  T'  said  he  one  day. 
"  A  cordelier  will  reply  :  Put  on  a  grey  hood,  and  tie  a 
cord  round  your  middle.  A  Roman  will  answer: 
Hear  mass,  and  fast.  But  a  Christian  will  say  :  Faith 
in  Christ — and  that  alone — justifies  and  saves.  We 
must  have  eternal  life  before  good  works.  But  when 
we  are  born  anew  and  made  children  of  God  by  the 
word  of  grace — then  we  perform  good  works."* 

The  Duke's  language  was  that  of  a  secular  prince  ; 
Luther's  that  of  a  true  Reformer.  The  great  sin  of 
the  Church  was,  that  she  had  thrown  down  the  barriers 
that  separated  her  from  the  world — that  she  had  con- 
verted all  her  operations  and  all  her  benefits  into  external 
and  material  things.  In  the  last  stage  of  her  contami- 
nation, she  had  embraced  the  scheme  of  indulgences, 
and  the  most  spiritual  blessing  that  belongs  to  Christi- 
anity— pardon  was  now  to  be  bought  at  a  stall  like 
food  or  drink  !  Luther's  great  achievement  consisted 
in  this — that  he  took  advantage  of  that  extremity  of 
degradation  into  which  Christianity  had  sunk,  to  lead 
back  individuals  and  the  Church  to  the  original  foun- 
tain of  life — and  to  re-establish  the  supremacy  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  in  the  sanctuary  of  the  believer's  heart. 
The  remedy  in  this  case,  as  in  many  others,  arose  out 
of  the  evil  itself,  and  the  two  extremes  touched  each 
other.  Henceforward  the  Church,  which  for  so  many 
ages  had  been  content  with  an  external  manifestation 
by  ceremonies,  and  observances,  and  practices  of  human 
authority,  began  once  more  to  seek  her  development 
within,  in  faith,  hope,  and  charity. 

The  Duke's  speech  produced  the  greater  effect,  on 
account  of  his  well-known  opposition  to  Luther.  Other 
members  of  the  Diet  brought  forward  other  grievances. 
Even  the  ecclesiastical  princes  supported  these  com- 
Dlaints.t  "  We  have  a  Pontiff,"  said  they,  "  who  is 
occupied  only  with  pleasure  and  the  chase  ;  the  church 
sreferment  of  Germany  is  bestowed  at  Rome  on  gun- 
ners, falconers,  valets,  ass-drivers,  grooms,  guardsmen, 
and  other  people  of  the  same  stamp,  ignorant,  inexpe- 
rienced, and  strangers  to  our  nation."! 

The  Diet  nominated  a  Committee  to  draw  up  a  list 
of  grievances  ;  the  enumeration  extended  to  a  hundred 
and  one.  A  deputation  composed  of  secular  and  ec- 
clesiastical princes  presented  this  report  to  the  Empe- 
ror, with  an  earnest  request  that  he  would  do  them 
right  in  the  matter — conformably  to  the  engagement 
le  had  contracted  on  his  elevation  to  the  throne. 
'  What  a  loss  of  Christian  souls,"  said  they  to  Charles, 
'  what  injustice,  what  extortion  are  the  daily  fruits  of 
hose  scandalous  practices  to  which  the  spiritual  head 
of  Christendom  affords  his  countenance.  The  ruin  and 
dishonour  of  our  nation  must  be  averted.  We,  there- 
ore,  very  humbly,  but  very  urgently,  beseech  you  to 
ianction  a  general  Reformation,  to  undertake  the  work, 
ind  to  carry  it  through."*)  The  Christian  community 

*  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.748,  752. 

JSeckend.    Vorrede  von  Frick, 
Bucksenmeistern,  Falknern,  Pfistern,  Eseltreibern,  Stall- 
cnechsen,  Trabanten  . . .  Kapps  Nachlese  niitzl.     (Ref,  Urk- 
inden,  iii.  262.) 

Dass  eine  Besserung  undgemeine  Reformation  geschehe. 
(16.  275.) 


168 


PUBLIC  OPINION— LUTHER'S  SERENITY. 


at  this  period  was  operated  upon  by  an  unknown  power, 
which  descended  alike  on  princes  and  people — a  wisdom 
from  above,  which  exerted  its  influence  even  on  the 
adversaries  of  reform,  and  prepared  the  way  for  that 
great  deliverance  whose  appointed  hour  was  now  at 
hand. 

Charles  could  not  be  insensible  to  the  remonstrances 
of  the  Imperial  Diet.  Neither  the  Nuncio  nor  the 
Emperor  had  anticipated  them.  The  letter  immediately 
withdrew  the  edict  which  commanded  Luther's  writings 
to  be  committed  to  the  flames  in  every  part  of  the 
Empire,  and  issued  in  its  stead  a  provisional  order,  that 
all  copies  of  those  writings  should  be  delivered  into 
the  hands  of  the  magistrate. 

This  did  not  satisfy  the  assembly  ;  it  demanded 
Luther's  appearance.  It  is  unjust,  said  his  friends,  to 
condemn  Luther  without  having  heard  him,  and  with- 
out having  ascertained  from  his  own  lips  that  he  is  the 
author  of  those  books  which  it  is  proposed  to  burn. 
His  doctrine,  said  his  adversaries,  has  taken  so  fast  a 
hold  on  men's  minds,  that  it  is  impossible  to  check  its 
progress,  unless  we  allow  him  a  hearing.  There  shall 
be  no  disputing  with  him  ;  and  in  the  event  of  his  ac- 
knowledging his  writings,  and  refusing  to  retract  them, 
we  will,  with  one  accord,  Electors,  Princes,  and  States 
of  the  holy  Empire,  in  firm  adherence  to  the  faith  of 
our  ancestors,  give  your  Majesty  our  unsparing  aid  to 
carry  your  decrees  into  full  effect.* 

Aleander,  disturbed  by  this  proposal,  and  dreading 
everything  from  Luther's  intrepidity,  and  the  ignorance 
of  the  Princes  before  whom  he  would  have  to  plead, 
made  strenuous  efforts  to  prevent  his  being  summoned. 
After  conferring  with  Charles'  ministers,  he  went  to 
those  Princes  who  were  best  disposed  towards  the 
Pope,  and  from  them  to  the  Emperor  himself.t  "  It 
is  not  permitted,"  said  he,  "  to  question  what  the  So- 
vereign Pontiff  has  decreed.  There  shall  be  no  disput- 
ing with  Luther,  you  say  ;  but  how  can  we  be  sure," 
he  continued,  "  that  the  genius  of  this  audacious  man, 
the  fire  that  flashes  from  his  eyes,  the  eloquence  of  his 
speech,  the  mysterious  spirit  that  animates  him,  will 
not  suffice  to  excite  a  tumult.:}:  Already  there  are  many 
who  revere  him  as  a  saint,  and  his  image  is  everywhere 
to  be  seen  encircled  with  rays  of  glory,  like  those  which 
surround  the  heads  of  the  blessed.  If  he  must  needs 
be  cited  to  appear,  beware,  at  all  events,  of  pledging 
the  public  faith  for  his  safety. "<J  These  last  words 
were  calculated  to  intimidate  Luther,  or  to  pave  the 
way  for  his  destruction. 

The  Nuncio  found  it  easy  to  influence  the  grandees 
of  Spain.  In  the  intensity  of  their  fanatic  zeal,  they 
panted  for  the  annihilation  of  the  new  heresy.  Frede- 
ric, Duke  of  Alva,  in  particular,  was  thrown  into  a  fit 
of  rage,  as  often  as  the  Reformation  was  mentioned. || 
It  would  have  delighted  him  to  wade  knee-deep  in  the 
blood  of  its  proselytes.  The  summons  for  Luther's 
appearance  was  yet  suspended,  but  his  name  had  be- 
come a  watchword  of  startling  interest  in  the  ears  of 
all  the  magnates  of  Christendom  then  assembled  at 
Worms. 

The  man  by  whom  the  powers  of  the  earth  were 
thus  shaken  seemed  alone  to  enjoy  peace.  The  tidings 
from  Worms  were  alarming ;  even  Luther's  friends 
were  dismayed.  "  Nothing  is  left  to  us  but  your  good 
will  and  your  prayers,"  wrote  Melancthon  to  Spalatin. 

*  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xxii.  567. 

f  Quam  ob  rem  seduld  contestatus  est  apud  Caesaris  admin- 
istros  (Pallav.  i.  113.) 

t  Lingua  promptus,  adore  vultus  et  oris  spiritu  ad  concitan- 
dam  seditionem.  (Ibid.) 

&  Hand  certe  fidem  publicam  illi  prsebendam.  (Pallavicini, 
i.  113.) 

II  Albse  dux  videbatur  aliquando  furentibus  modis  agitari. 
(Ibid.) 


"  Oh  that  God  would  vouchsafe  to  make  our  blood  the 
price  of  the  Christan  world's  deliverance  !"*  But  Lu- 
ther, a  stranger  to  all  fear,  shutting  himself  up  in  his 
quiet  cell,  fixed  his  meditations,  with  an  immediate 
reference  to  his  own  case,  on  these  ecstatic  words  of 
Mary,  the  mother  of  Jesus  :  "  My  soul  doth  magnify 
the  Lord,  and  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God  my  Sa- 
viour. .  .  For  he  that  is  mighty  hath  done  to  me  great 
things  ;  and  holy  is  his  name.  .  .  He  hath  showed 
strength  with  his  arm.  .  .  He  hath  put  down  the  mighty 
from  their  seats,  and  exalted  them  of  low  degree.'1"'^ 
Let  us  review  some  of  the  thoughts  which  passed 
through  Luther's  heart.  "He  that  is  mighty.  .  .  saith 
Mary.  Oh  what  boldness  of  speech  in  this  young  virgin  ! 
By  a  single  word  she  brands  all  the  strong  with  weak- 
ness— all  the  mighty  with  faintness — all  the  wise  with 
folly — and  all  those  whose  name  is  glorious  on  the 
earth  with  disgrace  ; — and  casts  all  strength,  all  might, 
all  wisdom,  all  glory,  at  the  feet  of  God  alone. t  .  .  . 
His  arm,  she  says  again — signifying  the  power  by  which 
he  acts  of  himself,  without  the  aid  of  any  of  his  crea- 
tures— that  mysterious  power  which  operates  in  secret 
and  in  silence,  until  it  has  accomplished  all  his  will .  .  . 
Destruction  comes  when  none  has  marked  its  approach 
— deliverance  comes  when  none  has  dared  to  look  for 
it.  He  leaves  his  children  in  oppression  and  misery, 
so  that  every  one  says,  within  himself,  They  are  past 
all  hope  !  But  even  then  is  He  strongest ;  for  when 
man's  strength  ends,  God's  strength  begins.  Only  let 
faith  wait  upon  him  .  .  .  And  at  another  time  he  suf- 
fers his  enemies  to  exalt  themselves  in  their  pomp  and 
vain  glory.  He  withdraws  from  them  the  succour  of 
his  strength,  and  leaves  them  to  be  puffed  up  with 
their  own.§  He  empties  them  of  his  eternal  wisdom, 
and  permits  them  to  be  inflated  with  their  own  wisdom, 
which  is  but  for  a  day  ;  and  then,  when  the  eyes  of 
their  fellow  men  are  dazzled  with  their  greatness,  God's 
arm  is  lifted  up,  and  lo  !  the  fabric  they  have  been, 
rearing  disappears  in  a  moment,  like  a  bubble  bursting 
in  the  air  !" 

It  was  on  the  10th  of  March,  while  the  imperial  city 
was  trembling  at  his  name,  that  Luther  concluded  his 
commentary  on  the  Magnificat. 

He  was  not  long  to  be  left  undisturbed  in  his  retreat. 
Spalatin,  in  obedience  to  the  orders  of  the  elector,  sent 
him  a  note  of  the  articles  which  he  would  be  called  on 
to  retract.  A  retraction  after  his  refusal  at  Augsburg  ! 
'•  Never  fear,"  he  wrote  to  Spalatin,  "  that  I  will  re- 
tract a  single  syllable,  since  the  only  argument  they 
have  to  urge  against  me  is,  that  rny  writings  are  at 
variance  with  the  observances  of  what  they  call  the 
Church.  If  our  Emperor,  Charles,  sends  for  me,  only 
to  retract,  my  answer  shall  be,  that  I  will  remain  here, 
and  it  will  be  all  the  same  as  though  I  had  been  at 
Worms,  and  returned  again.  But  if  the  emperor 
chooses  then  to  send  for  me,  to  put  me  to  death  as  an 
enemy  to  the  Empire,  I  shall  be  ready  to  obey  his 
summons  :|i  for,  by  Christ's  help,  I  will  never  abandon 
his  word  in  the  hour  of  battle.  I  know  that  these 
blood-thirsty  men  will  never  rest  till  they  have  taken 
my  life.  God  grant,  that  my  death  may  be  laid  to  the 
charge  of  the  Papists  alone  !" 

The  emperor,  at  length,  had  formed  his  resolution. 
Luther's  appearance  before  the  Diet  seemed  the  only 
probable  method  of  settling  the  affair  which  engrossed 
the  attention  of  the  Empire.  Charles  accordingly  re- 
solved to  cite  him  to  Worms,  but  without  giving  him 

*  UtinamDeus  redimat  nostro  sanguine  salutem  Christian! 
populi  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  362.)  f  Luke  i.  46—55 

*  Magnificat.    L.  Opp.  Wittemb.  Deutsch.  Ausg.  iii.  11,  te. 
§  Er  7,ie'ht  seine  Kraft  heraus  und  lasst  sie  von  eigener  Kraft 

sicaufblasen.     (Ibid.) 

]|  Si  ad  me  occidendum  deinceps  vocare  velit  .  .  offeram 
me  venturum.  (L.  Epp.  i.  674.) 


SUMMONS— SAFE-CONDUCT— HOLY  THURSDAY  AT  ROME. 


169 


&  safe-conduct.  It  now  became  necessary  for  Frederic 
once  more  to  assume  the  part  of  his  protector.  The 
danger  which  threatened  the  Reformer  was  obvious  to 
every  one.  The  friends  of  Luther,  Cochlaaus  remarks, 
•were  afraid  that  he  would  be  delivered  up  to  the  pope, 
or  that  the  emperor  would  himself  cause  him  to  be  put 
to  death  as  an  obstinate  heretic,  who  had  forfeited 
every  claim  to  be  treated  with  good  faith.*  There 
was  a  long  and  earnest  debate  on  this  point  in  the  Diet.t 
Overawed,  at  last,  by  the  agitation  that  prevailed  in 
almost  every  part  of  Germany,  and  fearing  lest  some 
sudden  tumult,  or  some  dangerous  insurrection^  (in  fa- 
vour of  the  Reformer,  doubtless,)  should  break  out  in 
the  course  of  Luther's  journey,  the  princes  decided  that 
it  was  expedient  to  quiet  men's  minds  in  regard  to  his 
personal  safety,  and  not  only  the  Emperor,  but  also  the 
Elector  of  Saxony,  Duke  George,  and  the  Landgrave 
of  Hesse,  through  whose  territories  he  had  to  pass,  gave 
him  severally  a  safe-conduct. 

On  the  6th  of  March,  1521,  Charles  the  Fifth  affixed 
his  signature  to  the  following  summons,  addressed  to 
Luther : — 

"  Charles,  by  the  grace  of  God,  Emperor  elect  of 
the  Romans,  always  August,  &c.  &c. 

"  Worshipful,  well-beloved,  and  godly  !  Whereas 
we,  and  the  States  of  the  holy  Empire  here  assembled, 
have  resolved  to  institute  an  enquiry  touching  the  doc- 
trine and  writings  which  thou  hast  lately  put  forth,  we 
have,  on  our  own  behalf,  and  on  behalf  of  the  Empire, 
issued  our  safe-conduct,  hereunto  annexed,  for  thy 
journey  hither,  and  return  to  a  place  of  security.  Our 
hearty  desire  is,  that  thou  shouldest  prepare  thyself  to 
set  out  immediately,  so  that,  within  the  space  of  twen- 
ty-one days,  fixed  by  our  safe-conduct,  thou  mayest 
without  fail  present  thyself  before  us.  Fear  no  injus- 
tice or  violence.  We  will  steadily  abide  by  our  safe- 
conduct  aforesaid,  and  we  expect  that  thou  wilt  pav 
obedience  to  our  summons.  Such  is  our  earnest  in- 
junction. 

"  Given  in  our  imperial  city  of  Worms,  this  6th  day 
of  the  month  of  March,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  1521, 
and  the  second  of  our  reign, 

"  CHARLES 

"  By  order  of  my  Lord,  the  Emperor,  under  his  sign 
manual,  ALBERT,  Cardinal  of  Mentz,  Arch-Chancel- 
lor. 

"  Nicolas  Zwyl." 

The  safe-conduct  enclosed  in  this  writ  was  directed 
"  To  the  worshipful,  our  well-beloved  and  godly  Doctor 
Martin  Luther,  of  the  order  of  the  Augustines." 

It  began  thus : 

"  We,  Charles,  the  fifth  of  that  name,  by  the  grace 
of  God,  Emperor  elect  of  the  Romans,  always  August, 
King  of  Spain,  of  the  Two  Sicilies,  of  Jerusalem,  of 
Hungary,  of  Dalmatia,  of  Croatia,  &c.  Archduke  of 
Austria,  Duke  of  Burgundy,  Count  of  Hapsburg,  of 
Flanders,  of  the  Tyrol,"  &c.  &c. 

And  then  this  sovereign  of  so  many  states,  intimat- 
ing that  he  has  cited  a  certain  Augustine  monk,  named 
Luther,  to  appear  in  his  presence,  requires  all  princes, 
lords,  magistrates,  and  others,  to  respect  the  safe-con- 
duct which  he  granted  to  him,  under  pain  of  being  dealt 
with  as  offenders  against  the  Emperor  and  the  Em- 
pire.^ 

Thus  did  the  emperor  bestow  the  appellations  of 

*  Tanquam  perfido  haeretico  nulla  sit  servanda  fides.  (Coch- 
laeus,  p,  28.) 

t  Longa  consultatio  difficilisque  disceptatio.     (Ibid.) 

\  Cum  autem  grandis  ubique  per  Germanism  fere  totam 
cxcitata  esset  .  .  .  animorum  commotio.  (Ibid.) 

§  Lucas  Cranachs  Stambuchs,  &c.  herausgegebenv.  Chr.  v. 
Mecheln.  p.  12. 


"  well-beloved,  worshipful,  and  godly,"  on  a  man  whom 
the  head  of  the  Church  had  visited  with  excommunica- 
tion. The  phraseology  of  the  instrument  was  designed 
to  remove  all  mistrust  from  the  mind  of  Luther  and 
his  friends.  Gaspar  Sturm  was  appointed  to  deliver 
this  missive  to  the  Reformer,  and  to  escort  him  to 
Worms.  The  elector,  fearing  some  outbreak  of  the 
popular  feeling,  wrote,  on  the  12th  of  March,  to  the 
magistrates  of  Wittemberg,  desiring  them  to  adopt 
measures  for  the  safety  of  the  emperor's  officer,  and, 
if  necessary,  to  furnish  him  with  a  guard.  The  herald 
took  his  departure. 

Thus  was  the  purpose  of  God  fulfilled.  It  was  his 
will  that  this  light,  which  he  had  kindled  in  the  world, 
should  be  set  upon  a  hill ;  and  emperor,  kings,  and 
princes,  were  all  busily  employed — though  they  knew 
it  not — in  executing  what  He  had  appointed.  It  is  an 
easy  thing  with  Him  to  raise  the  meanest  to  dignity. 
An  act  of  His  power,  operating  through  successive 
years,  suffices  to  lead  the  offspring  of  a  Saxon  peasant 
from  the  lowly  cottage  of  his  childhood,  to  that  impe- 
rial hall,  in  which  assembled  sovereigns  awaited  his 
coming.  In  His  presence,  none  are  either  small  or 
great,  and  when  He  wills  it,  Charles  and  Luther  meet 
on  the  same  level. 

But  will  Luther  obey  the  summons  1  His  best  friends 
were  in  uncertainty  on  this  point.  "Dr.  Martin,"  wrote 
the  elector  to  his  brother,  on  the  21st  of  March,  "is 
cited  to  appear  here  ;  but  I  know  not  whether  he  will 
come.  I  augur  nothing  but  mischief."  Three  weeks 
later,  on  the  16th  of  April,  this  excellent  prince,  per- 
ceiving the  danger  was  increasing,  wrote  again  to  Duke 
John  as  follows  :• — "  A  proclamation  has  been  issued 
against  Luther.  The  cardinals  and  the  bishops  are 
very  hard  upon  him.*  God  grant  that  thi-s  may  end 
well !  Would  to  God,  that  I  could  ensure  him  a  fa- 
vourable hearing  !" 

While  these  things  were  passing  at  Worms  and 
Wittemberg,  the  papacy  was  renewing  its  assaults. 
On  the  28th  of  March,  which  was  the  Thursday  before 
Easter,  all  Rome  resounded  with  a  solemn  sentence 
of  excommunication.  It  is  the  custom  at  this  season 
to  publish  the  terrible  bull  in  cana.  Domini,  which  is 
nothing  but  a  long  string  of  imprecations.  On  the  day 
of  which  we  speak,  the  approaches  to  the  church,  in 
which  the  Sovereign  Pontiff  was  to  officiate  in  person, 
were  filled  at  an  early  hour  by  the  Papal  guard,  and 
by  a  vast  multitude  that  had  flocked  together  from  all 
parts  of  Italy,  to  receive  the  benediction  of  the  Holy 
Father.  The  square  before  the  Basilica  was  decorated 
with  laurel  and  myrtle,  wax  candles  were  burning  on 
the  balcony  of  the  church,  and  beside  them  was  elevated 
the  sacred  receptacle  of  the  host.  On  a  sudden  the 
deep  sound  of  bells  reverberates  through  the  air  ; — the 
Pope,  arrayed  in  his  pontifical  robes,  and  borne  in  an 
arm-chair,  makes  his  appearance  on  the  balcony ;  the 
people  fall  on  their  knees  ;  all  heads  are  uncovered ; 
the  flags  that  were  waving  in  the  winds  are  lowered  ; 
the  troops  ground  their  arms ;  and  a  solemn  silence 
ensues.  After  a  pause  of  some  moments,  the  Pope 
slowly  stretches  out  his  hands,  lifts  them  up  towards 
heaven,  and  than,  making  the  sign  of  the  cross,  lets 
them  gradually  fall  towards  the  earth.  He  repeats 
these  gestures  three  times.  And  now  again  the  peal- 
ing bells  are  heard,  giving  notice,  far  and  wide,  of  the 
Pontiff's  benediction  ;  and  next  a  train  of  priests  is 
seen  advancing,  each  with  a  lighted  torch  in  his  hand  : 
as  they  rush  hurriedly  along,  they  swing  their  torches 
downwards,  they  brandish  them  aloft,  they  toss  them 
wildly  to  and  fro,  like  so  many  fires  of  hell ;  the  mul- 


*  Die  Cardinale  und  Bischofe  sind  ihm  hart  zuwider,  (Seek- 
end.  p,  365.) 


no 


THE  POPE  AND  LUTHER. 


titude  are  thrilled  with  awe  and  terror;  and  the  words 
of  malediction  roll  heavily  above  their  heads.* 

When  Luther  was  apprised  of  this  excommunication, 
be  published  the  form  of  it,  with  some  remarks  in  that 
caustic  style  which  he  knew  so  well  how  to  assume. 
Although  this  publication  did  not  appear  till  some  time 
afterwards,  we  shall  present  some  extracts  from  it  here. 
Let  us  listen  to  the  high-priest  of  Christendom,  as  he 
speaks  from  the  balcony  of  his  Basilica — and  to  the 
monk  of  Wittemberg,  who  answers  him  out  of  the  heart 
of  Germany.! 

There  is  something  characteristic  in  the  contrast  of 
the  two  voices  . 

THE  POPE.     "  Leo,  bishop." 

LUTHER.  "  Bishop !  as  much  as  a  wolf  is  a  shep- 
herd ;  for  a  bishop's  duty  is  to  give  godly  exhortations, 
not  to  vomit  forth  imprecations  and  curses." 

THE  POPE.  "  Servant  of  all  the  servants  of  God " 

LUTHER.  "  In  the  evening  when  we  are  drunk ; 
but  next  morning  we  call  ourselves  Leo,  lord  of  all 
lords." 

THE  POPE.  "  The  bishops  of  Rome,  our  predeces- 
sors, have  been  wont  on  this  festival  to  employ  the 
arms  of  justice " 

LUTHER.  "  Which,  according  to  your  account,  are 
excommunication  and  anathema :  but,  according  to  St. 
Paul,  long-suffering,  kindness,  love  unfeigned." — (2 
Cor.  vi.  6,  7.) 

THE  POPE.  "  According  to  the  duty  of  the  Apos- 
tolic charge,  and  to  maintain  the  purity  of  the  Chris- 
tian faith " 

LUTHER.  "  That  is  to  say,  the  temporal  possessions 
of  the  Pope." 

THE  POPE.  "  And  the  unity  thereof,  which  con- 
sists in  the  union  of  the  members  with  Christ  their 
head,  ....  and  with  his  Vicar " 

LUTHER.  "  For  Christ  is  not  sufficient,  we  must 
have  another  besides." 

THE  POPE.  "  To  preserve  the  holy  communion  of 
the  faithful,  we  follow  the  ancient  rule,  and  accordingly 
do  excommunicate  and  curse,  in  the  name  of  God  Al- 
mighty, the  Father " 

LUTHER.  "  Of  whom  it  is  said  :  '  God,  sent  not  his 
Son  into  the  world  to  condemn  the  world.''  " — (John 
lii.  17.) 

THE  POPE.  "  The  Son  and  the  Holy  Ghost — and 
by  the  authority  of  the  Apostles,  Peter  and  Paul,  .  .  . 
.  .  and  by  our  own.  ..." 

LUTHER.  "  OUR  OWN,  says  the  ravenous  wolf,  as 
though  God's  might  were  too  weak  without  him." 

THE  POPE.  "  We  curse  all  heretics — the  Garasi.t 
the  Patarini,  « the  poor  men'  of  Lyons,  the  Arnoldists, 
the  Speronists.  the  Passageni,  the  Wicklifites,  the 
Hussites,  the  Fraticelli.  .  .  ." 

LUTHER.  *l  Because  they  have  sought  to  possess 
themselves  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  admonished 
the  Pope  to  be  modest,  and  preach  the  Word  of  God." 

THE  POPE.  "And  Martin  Luther,  recently  con- 
demned by  us  for  a  like  heresy,  together  with  all  his 
adherents,  and  all  persons,  whosoever  they  may  be, 
who  aid  or  abet  him." 

LUTHER.  "  I  thank  thee,  most  gracious  Pontiff,  that 
thou  hist  proclaimed  me  in  company  with  all  these 
Christians.  It  is  an  honour  for  me  to  have  my  name 
proclaimed  at  Rome  at  the  time  of  the  festival,  in  so 
glorious  a  manner,  and  to  have  it  circulated  through- 


*  This  ceremony  is  described  in  several  works,  and  amongst 
Others  in  the  "  Tagebuch  einer  Reise  durch  Deutschland  und 
Italien."  (Berlin,  1817,  iv.  94.)  Its  principal  features  are  of 
a  higher  antiquity  than  the  times  of  which  we  treat. 

t  See,  for  the  Pope's  bull  and  Luther's  commentary,  "  Die 
Bulla  vom  Abendfressen."  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xviii.  1.) 

\  This  is  a  corrupt  orthography  :  read  Gazari  or  Cathari, 


out  the  world  with  the  names  of  all  those  humble  con- 
fessors of  Christ." 

THE  POPE.  "  In  like  manner,  we  excommunicate 
and  curse  all  pirates  and  corsairs " 

LUTHER.  "  And  who  is  the  greatest  of  all  pirates 
and  corsairs,  if  it  be  not  he  who  takes  souls  captive, 
and  binds  them  in  chains,  and  delivers  them  to  death  1" 

THE  POPE.  "...  especially  such  as  infest  our 
seas.  .  .  ." 

LUTHER.  "OuR  seas?  St.  Peter,  our  predecessor, 
said  :  '  Silver  and  gold  have  I  none,"1  (Acts  iii.  6.) 
Jesus  Christ  said,  '  The  kings  of  the  Gentiles  exercise 
lordship  over  them;  but  ye  shall  not  be  so.'  (Luke 
xxii.  25.)  But  if  a  wagon  laden  with  hay  must  give 
way  to  a  drunken  man,  how  much  more  fitting  is  it 
that  St.  Peter,  and  Christ  himself,  should  give  way  to 
the  Pope  !" 

THE  POPE.  "  In  like  manner  we  excommunicate 
and  curse  all  those  who  falsify  our  bulls  and  letters 
apostolical " 

LUTHER.  "  But  God's  letters — God's  Holy  Scrip- 
tures— any  one  may  condemn  and  burn  them." 

THE  POPE.  "  In  like  manner  we  excommunicate 
and  curse  all  those  who  intercept  any  provisions  on 
their  passage  to  our  city  of  Rome  .  .  .  ." 

LUTHER.  "  He  snarls'  and  bites  like  a  dog  that  is 
battling  for  his  bone."* 

THE  POPE.  "  In  like  manner  we  condemn,  and  we 
curse  all  those  who  withhold  any  privileges,  dues,  tithes, 
or  revenues  belonging  to  the  clergy." 

LUTHER.  "  Forasmuch  as  Christ  hath  said,  '  If 
any  man  will  sue  thee  at  the  law,  and  take  away  thy 
coat,  let  him  have  thy  cloak  also ;'  (Matt.  v.  40,)  and 
ye  have  now  heard  our  commentary  thereon  .  .  ." 

THE  POPE.  "  Whatever  be  their  station,  dignity, 
order,  authority,  or  rank,  be  they  even  bishops  or 
kings." 

LUTHER.  "  '  For  there  shall  be  false  teachers  among 
you,  who  shall  despise  dominion,  and  speak  evil  of 
dignities,1  saith  the  Scripture."  (Jude  8.) 

THE  POPE.  "  In  like  manner  we  condemn  and  curse 
all  who  in  any  manner  whatsoever  shall  molest  the  city 
of  Rome,  the  kingdom  of  Sicily,  the  islands  of  Sar- 
dinia and  Corsica,  the  patrimony  of  St.  Peter  in  Trs- 
cany,  the  duchy  of  Spoleto,  the  marquisate  of  Ancona, 
the  Campagna,  the  cities  of  Ferrara  and  Benevento,  or 
any  other  city  or  territory  belonging  to  the  Church  of 
Rome." 

LUTHER.  "  0,  Peter,  thou  poor  fisherman  !  how 
hast  thou  become  ma-ster  of  Rome,  and  so  many  king- 
doms besides  ?  I  bid  thee  all  hail !  Peter,  king  of 
Sicily  !  .  .  .  and  fisherman  of  Bethsaida." 

THE  POPE.  "  We  excommunicate  and  curse  all 
chancellors,  counsellors,  parliaments,  procurators,  gov- 
ernors, officials,  bishops,  and  others, who  shall  resist  any 
of  our  letters  admonitory,  permissive,  prohibitory, 
mediatory,  or  executive." 

LUTHER.  "  For  the  Holy  See  seeks  only  to  live  in 
idleness,  pomp  and  debauchery — to  rule  and  intimi- 
date— to  lie  and  deceive,  to  dishonour  and  seduce,  and 
commit  all  kinds  of  evil  in  peace  and  security  .  .  . 

"  O  Lord,  arise  !  it  is  not  so  with  us  as  the  papists 
pretend  ;  thou  hast  not  forsaken  us,  neither  are  thine 
eyes  turned  away  from  us." 

Such  was  the  dialogue  between  Leo  the  Tenth,  at 
Rome,  and  Martin  Luther,  at  Wittemberg. 

The  pontiff  having  concluded  his  anathemas,  the 
parchment  on  which  they  were  written  was  torn  up,  and 
its  fragments  scattered  among  the  people.  The  crowd 
was  instantly  thrown  into  violent  commotion,  every  one 
rushed  forward,  eager  to  sieze  a  scrap  of  the  terrible 

*  Gleichwie  ein  Hund  urns  Beines  willen.  (L.  Opp.  (L.) 
xviii.  12.) 


LUTHER'S  COURAGE— BUGENHAGEN— PERSECUTION  IN  POMERANIA.         171 


bull.  These  were  the  holy  relics  that  the  papacy  of- 
fered to  its  followers,  on  the  eve  of  the  great  day  of 
grace  and  expiation.  The  multitude  soon  dispersed, 
and  ihe  neighborhood  of  the  Basilica  resumed  its  ac- 
customed stillness.  Let  us  return  to  Wittemberg. 

It  was  now  on  the  24th  of  March,  Gaspar  Sturm, 
the  imperial  herald,  had  passed  through  the  gates  of 
the  city  in  which  Luther  resided.  He  presented  him- 
self before  the  doctor,  and  delivered  into  his  hands  the 
emperor's  writ  of  summons.  It  was  an  anxious  and 
solemn  moment  for  the  Reformer.  His  friends  were 
all  panic-struck.  Hitherto,  not  one  of  the  princes, 
not  even  Frederic  the  Wise,  had  openly  espoused  his 
cause.  The  knights,  it  is  true,  had  begun  to  use 
threatening  language  ;  but  Charles,  in  the  plenitude 
of  his  power,  paid  small  regard  to  it.  Luther,  how- 
ever, preserved  his  composure.  "  The  papists,"  said 
he,  observing  the  distress  of  his  friends,  "  have  little 
desire  to  see  me  at  Worms,  but  they  long  for  my  con- 
demnation and  death.*  No  matter  !  Pray  not  for  me, 
but  for  the  Word  of  God.  My  blood  will  scarcely  be 
cold  before  thousands,  and  tens  of  thousands,  in  every 
land,  will  be  made  to  answer  for  the  shedding  of  it. 
The  '  Most  Holy  '  adversary  of  Christ,  the  father,  and 
master,  and  chief  of  man-slayers,  is  resolved  that  it 
shall  be  spilt.  Amen  !  The  will  of  God  be  done  ! 
Christ  will  give  me  his  Spirit,  to  overcome  these  mi- 
nisters of  Satan.  I  despise  them  while  Hive;  I  will  tri- 
umph over  them  in  death.!  They  are  striving  hard,  at 
Worms,  to  force  me  to  recant.  My  recantation  shall 
be  this  :  I  said  formerly  that  the  pope  was  Christ's  vicar, 
now  I  say,  that  he  is  the  adversary  of  the  Lord,  and 
the  apostle  of  the  devil."  And  when  he  was  told  that 
all  the  pulpits  of  the  Franciscans  and  Dominicans  were 
ringing  with  imprecations  and  maledictions  against 
him  :%  "  Oh,  how  it  delights  me  to  hear  it!"  ex- 
claimed he.  He  knew  that  he  had  obeyed  the  will  of 
God,  and  that  God  was  with  him.  Why  then  should  he 
fear  to  set  out  1  Purity  of  intention,  and  a  conscience 
void  of  offence,  impart  to  the  servantof  God  a  hidden  yet 
incalculable  strength,  which  never  fails  him  ;  a  strength 
in  which  he  goes  forth  against  his  enemies  with  that 
.assurance  of  victory,  which  no  adamantine  breastplate, 
no  phalanx  of  trusty  spears,  can  ever  afford. 

Luther  was  at  this  time  unexpectedly  called  on  to 
welcome  a  man  who,  like  Melancthon,  was  destined  to 
be  his  friend  through  life,  as  well  as  to  give  him  pre- 
sent comfort,  in  the  hour  of  his  departure. §  This  was 
,a  priest,  named  Bugenhagen,  in  the  thirty-sixth  year  of 
4iis  age,  who  had  fled  from  the  rigorous  persecution 
.exercised  by  the  Bishop  of  Camin,  and  Prince  Bogis- 
las,  of  Pomerania,  against  all,  whether  ecclesiastics, 
citizens,  or  scholars,  who  embraced  the  Gospel. II 
Bom  at  Wollen,  in  Pomerania,  (whence  he  is  com- 
monly called  Pomeranus,)  of  a  family  holding  senato- 
rial rank,  Bugenhagen,  from  the  age  of  twenty,  had 
been  teaching  at  Treptow.  The  young  listened  eagerly 
to  his  instructions  ;  the  noble  and  the  learned  vied  with 
-each  other  in  courting  his  society.  He  was  a  diligent  stu- 
dent in  the  sacred  literature,  and  one  who  prayed  to  God 
sto  enlighten  and  direct  him.f  One  evening,  (it  was  to- 
ward the  end  of  December,  1520,)  as  he  sat  at  supper, 
with  some  friends,  a.eopy  of  Luther's  book,  on  the  Baby- 
lonian Captivity,  was  put  into  his  hands.  "  Since 
Christ's  death,"  said  he,  after  having  glanced  it  over, 

*  Damnatum  et  perditum.     (L.  Epp.  i.  556.) 

t  .  .  .  ut  hos  Satanae  minislros  et  coiitemnam  vivens  et 
vicatn  moriens.  (L.  Epp.  i.  679.) 

"...  Quod  mire  qtiam  gaudeam.    (Ibid  567.) 
Venit  Wittembergam  paulo  ante  iter  Lutheri  ad  comitia 

rbrmatiae  indicta.    (Melch.  Adam,  vita  Bugenhagii,  p.  314.) 

II  Sacerdotes  cives  et  sckolasticos  in  vincula  conjecit.  (Ibid, 
p.  313.) 

ff  Preoesque  adjunxit  quibus  divinitus  se  re  hac  doceri  pe- 
tivit.  (Melch.  Adam,  vita  Bugenhagii,  p.  312.) 


rjw 

J 


"  there  have  been  many  heretics  to  vex  the  church  ; 
but  never  yet  has  there  risen  up  such  a  pest  as  the  au- 
thor of  this  book."  Having  taken  the  book  home  with 
him,  however,  and  read  it  once  and  again,  his  thoughts 
underwent  a  total  change.  Truths  of  which  he  had  never 
dreamed,  became  palpable  to  his  mind;  and  returning, a 
few  days  afterward,  to  his  companions,  he  said  ;  "  The 
whole  world  has  been  lying  in  thick  darkness.  This 
man — and  none  but  he — has  discerned  the  truth."* 
Several  priests,  a  deacon,  and  even  the  abbot  himself, 
received  the  pure  doctrine  of  salvation,  arid,  in  a  short 
time,  by  their  powerful  preaching,  they  turned  their 
hearers,  says  an  historian,  from  human  superstitions,  to 
put  their  sole  trust  in  the  availing  righteousnesss  of 
Jesus  Chrst.f  Then  burst  forth  the  persecution.  Many 
were  already  groaning  in  dungeons.  Bugenhagen  es- 
caped from  his  enemies,  and  arrived,  as  we  have  seen, 
at  Wittemberg.  "  He  is  suffering  for  the  Gospel's 
sake,"  said  Melancthon,  writing,  on  this  occasion,  to 
the  elector's  chaplain,  "where  could  he  seek  refuge, 
but  in  this  asylum  of  ours,  under  the  protection  of  our 
prince  ?"t 

But  by  none  was  Bugenhagen  received  so  joyfully 
as  by  Luther.  It  was  agreed  between  them,  that  im- 
mediately after  the  Reformer's  departure,  Bugenhagen 
should  begin  to  expound  the  Psalms.  Thus  did  Pro- 
vidence raise  up  that  gifted  man,  to  supply,  in  part  at 
least,  the  loss  of  him  whom  Wittemberg  was  about  to 
lose.  A  year  later,  Bugenhagen  was  placed  at  the 
head  of  the  church  of  that  city,  and  he  continued  to 
preside  over  it  for  six  and  thirty  years.  Luther  be- 
stowed upon  him  the  emphatic  appellation  of  the  Pastor. 

Luther  was  now  ready  to  set  out.  His  dejected  friends 
believed  that,  unless  God  should  interpose  by  a  mira- 
cle, he  was  going  to  meet  his  death.  Melancthon,  far 
removed  from  his  native  soil,  had  attached  himself  to 
Luther  with  the  strong  affection  of  an  ardent  mind. 
"  Luther,"  said  he,  "  makes  up  to  me  for  the  loss  of  all 
my  friends.  He  is,  in  my  estimation,  greater  and  more 
wonderful  than  I  know  how  to  express.  You  remem- 
ber how  Socrates  was  revered  by  Alcibiades  ;$  but 
my  admiration  of  Luther  is  of  a  higher  kind,  for  it  is  a 
Christian  feeling.  And  he  adds  the  beautiful,  though 
simple  phrase  :  "  As  often  as  I  contemplate  him,  he 
seems  to  me,  every  time,  to  have  grown  greater  than 
himself."||  Melancthon  wished  to  bear  Luther  com- 
pany in  his  perils.  But  their  common  friends,  and 
doubtless  the  Reformer  himself,  opposed  his  desire. 
Was  not  Philip  to  fill  his  friend's  place  ?  And  if  the 
latter  should  never  return,  who  would  then  carry  on 
the  work  of  reformation  ?  "  Would  to  God,"  said 
Melancthon,  as  he  reluctantly  submitted,  "  I  were  al- 
lowed to  set  out  with  him."f 

The  vehement  Amsdorff  at  once  declared  his  inten- 
tion to  accompany  the  doctor.  His  bold  heart  de- 
lighted in  danger — and  his  lofty  spirit  did  not  shrink 
from  appearing  before  an  assembly  of  kings.  The 
elector  had  invited  to  Wittemberg  a  professor  of  law, 
the  celebrated  John  Schurff,  son  of  a  physician  at  St. 
Gall ;  a  man  of  remarkably  mild  disposition,  who  lived 
in  intimacy  with  Luther.  "  He  could  never  find  the 
heart  to  pass  sentence  of  death  upon  any  crimi- 
nal,"** said  Luther,  speaking  of  Schurff.  Yet  this  timid 

In  Cimmeriis  tenebris  versator :  hie  vir  unus  et  solus  re- 
rum  videt.  (Ibid.  313.) 

f  A  superstition  ibus  ad  unicum  Christ!  merittim  traducere. 
(Ibid.) 

Corp.  Ref.  i.  861. 

Alcibiades  was  persuaded  that  the  society  of  Socrates 
was  granted  him  by  the  special  favour  of  the  gods,  for  his 
guidance  and  protection.  (Plutarch,  in  his  Life  of  Alcibiades.) 
||  Quern  quotiescontemplor.se  ipso  subinde  majorem  judi. 
cio.     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  264.) 

IT  Utinam  licuisset  mihi  una  proficisci.   (Ibid.  365.) 
**  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  2067.  1819. 


172 


HUTTEN  TO  CHARLES  THE  FIFTH— LUTHER'S  FAREWELL. 


man  desired  to  be  present  with  the  doctor,  as  his  advis- 
er, in  the  course  of  his  hazardous  journey.  Peter  Sua- 
ven,  a  young  Danish  student,  who  lodged  in  Melanc- 
thon's  house,  and  was  afterward  famous  for  his  preach- 
ing of  the  Gospel  in  Pomerania  and  Denmark,  also  an- 
nounced that  he  would  accompany  his  '  father.'  It 
was  fit  that  the  youth  of  these  schools  should  have 
some  one  to  represent  it,  at  the  side  of  the  champion 
of  truth. 

All  Germany  was  moved  at  the  thought  of  the  dan- 
gers which  threatened  one  who  was  the  people's  re- 
presentative. She  found  a  voice  that  was  worthy  of 
her  to  express  her  alarms.  Ulrich  Hutten,  trembling 
at  the  thought  of  the  blow  the  country  was  on  the  eve 
of  sustaining,  wrote,  on  the  1st  of  April,  to  Charles  V. 
himself:  "  Most  excellent  Emperor,  you  are  about  to 
involve  yourself  and  us  in  one  common  ruin.  What 
is  the  object  of  this  procedure  against  Luther,  unless 
it  be  the  destruction  of  our  liberty  and  the  downfall  of 
your  power.  Throughout  the  empire  there  is  no  man 
but  takes  a  lively  interest  in  this  matter.*  The  priests 
alone  are  opposed  to  Luther,  because  he  has  stood 
forth  against  their  overgrown  power,  shameful  luxury, 
and  depraved  conduct,  and  pleaded  for  the  Christian 
doctrine,  the  national  liberties,  and  purity  of  morals. 

"  0  Emperor,  no  longer  countenance  those  Romish 
advocates,  those  bishops  and  cardinals  who  would  hin- 
der all  reformation.  Have  you  not  noticed  the  sadness 
of  the  people  when  they  beheld  your  arrival,  approach- 
ing the  Rhine,  surrounded  with  those  red  hats — a  troop 
of  priests,  instead  of  a  cohort  of  valiant  warriors  ? 

"  Give  not  up  your  sovereign  majesty  to  those  who 
would  trample  it  under  their  feet.  Take  pity  on  us, 
and  do  not  involve  the  whole  nation  in  your  own  ruin. 
Lead  us  into  the  midst  of  dangers — against  sword  and 
cannonf — let  all  nations  conspire,  and  their  armies 
come  against  us,  so  that  we  may  prove  our  courage  in 
the  face  of  day,  and  not  be  conquered  and  enslaved, 
darkly  and  secretly,  as  if  we  were  women  unarmed  and 
unresisting  ....  Alas,  we  hoped  that  you  would 
deliver  us  from  the  Roman  yoke,  and  dethrone  the 
Pontiffs  tyranny.  God  grant  that  the  future  may  be 
happier  than  these  beginnings. 

"All  Germany  is  at  your  feet,+  imploring  your  help, 
your  compassion,  your  fidelity  ;  appealing  to  those  Ger- 
man heroes,  who  stood  erect  before  the  proud  city, 
when  the  whole  world  beside  were  its  subjects,  and 
conjuring  you  to  save  her — to  restore  her  to  what  she 
once  was — to  deliver  her  from  slavery,  and  avenge  her 
on  her  tyrants. 

Thus  spake  the  German  nation  to  Charles  the  Fifth, 
by  the  mouth  of  Ulrich  Hutten.  The  emperor  paid  no 
attention  to  this  appeal,  and,  it  is  probable,  threw  the 
letter  contemptuously  to  one  of  his  secretaries.  He 
was  a  Fleming,  not  a  German.  His  personal  power, 
and  not  the  liberty  or  glory  of  the  empire,  was  the  ob- 
ject of  his  desire. 

It  was  the  2d  of  April.  Luther  was  to  take  leave 
of  his  friends.  After  having  apprized  Lange,  by  letter, 
that  he  would  spend  the  Thursday  or  Friday  following 
at  Erfurth,§  he  bade  adieu  to  his  colleagues.  Turn- 
ing to  Melancthon,  he  said,  with  deep  emotion  : — "  If 
I  never  return,  and  my  enemies  should  take  my  life, 
cease  not,  dear  brother,  to  teach  and  stand  fast  in  the 
truth.  Labour  in  my  stead,  since  I  can  no  longer  work. 
If  thy  life  be  spared,  my  death  will  matter  little."  Then 
committing  his  soul  to  him  who  is  faithful,  Luther  step- 

*  Neque  enim  quam  lata  est  Germania,  ulli  boni  sunt    .  . 
(L.  Opp.  lat.  ii.  182.) 

f  Due  nos  in  manifestum  potius  periculum,  due  in  ferrum 
due  in  ignes.  (Ibid.  183.) 

i  Omnem  nunc  Germanium  quasi  ad  genua  provolutam  tib 
.  .  .  (L.  Opp.  lat.  ii.  694.) 

§  L.  Epp.  i.  580. 


d  into  the  wagon,  and  quitted  Wittemberg.  The 
own-council  had  furnished  him  with  a  plain  carriage, 
covered  with  an  awning,  which  the  travellers  might 
hrovv  back  or  draw  over  them  at  pleasure.  The  Im- 
aerial  herald,  in  full  costume,  and  wearing  the  imperial 
eagle,  went  before,  on  horseback,  and  was  followed  by 
lis  servant.  Then  came  Luther,  Schurff,  AmsdorfT,  and 
Suaven,  in  their  open  wagon.  The  burghers  of  Wit- 
emberg,  to  whom  the  Gospel  was  precious,  sorrowing 
and  in  tears,  invoked  the  blessing  of  God  upon  his 
ourney.  Luther  set  forth. 

He  soon  had  occasion  to  observe,  that  gloomy  pre- 
sentiments filled  the  hearts  of  those  he  met.  At  Leip- 
sic  no  honours  were  paid  him,  beyond  the  customary 
offering  of  wine.  At  Naumburg  he  met  a  priest,  pro- 
bably J.  Langer,  a  man  of  stern  zeal,  who  kept  hung 
up  in  his  study  a  portrait  of  the  celebrated  Jerome 
Savonarola,  of  Ferrara,  who  perished  in  the  flames  at 
Florence,  in  the  year  1498,  by  order  of  Pope  Alexan- 
der the  Sixth — a  martyr  to  liberty  and  morals,  rather 
than  a  confessor  of  the  Gospel.  Taking  down  the  por- 
trait of  the  Italian  martyr,  the  priest  held  it  forth  in  si- 
lence, as  he  approached  Luther.  The  latter  well  un- 
derstood the  import  of  this  silent  action,  but  his  intre- 
pid spirit  was  unmoved.  "  It  is  Satan,"  he  remarked, 
"  who  seeks,  by  these  terrors,  to  hinder  the  confession 
of  the  truth  in  the  assembly  of  the  princes,  for  he  fore- 
sees the  effect  it  will  have  upon  his  kingdom."* 
"  Stand  fast  in  the  truth  thou  hast  professed,"  replied 
the  priest,  gravely,  "  and  thy  God  will  never  forsake 
thee  !"t 

Having  passed  one  night  at  Naumburg,  where  the 
burgomaster  had  received  him  hospitably,  Luther  ar- 
rived on  the  following  evening  at  Weimar.  He  had 
scarcely  alighted,  when  he  heard  the  voices  of  the  criers 
on  all  sides.  They  were  proclaiming  his  sentence. 
Look  there,"  said  the  herald.  He  turned  his  eyes,  and 
beheld  with  astonishment  the  emperor's  messengers 
passing  from  street  to  street,  everywhere  placarding  the 
imperial  edict,  enjoining  all  men  to  bring  in  his  writings 
to  the  magistrates.  Luther  saw  clearly  that  these  vigor- 
ous proceedings  were  designed  to  stay  his  further  pro- 
gress— by  working  upon  his  apprehensions — and,  after 
that,  to  condemn  him  as  having  refused  to  appear. 
"  Well,  doctor,  will  you  go  any  further  ?"  asked  the  he- 
rald, in  alarm.  "  Yes,"  replied  Luther,  "  though  I  should 
be  put  under  interdict  in  every  town,  I  will  go  on.  I 
rely  on  the  emperor's  safe-conduct." 

At  Weimar,  Luther  had  an  audience  of  Duke  John, 
brother  to  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  who  was  then  residing 
in  that  city.  The  prince  requested  him  to  preach,  and 
he  consented.  Words  of  life-giving  power  flowed  forth 
from  his  swelling  heart.  A  Franciscan  monk,  John 
Voit,  a  friend  of  Frederic  Myconius,  was  on  that  oc- 
casion converted  to  the  Gospel.  Two  years  afterward 
he  left  the  convent,  and  became,  subsequently,  profes- 
sor of  theology  at  Wittemberg.  The  Duke  assisted 
Luther  with  money  for  his  journey. 

From  Weimar  the  Reformer  repaired  to  Erfurth.  It 
was  the  town  in  which  his  youth  had  been  passed.  He 
expected  to  find  there  his  friend  Lange  ;  if,  as  he  had 
written  word,  there  was  no  risk  incurred  by  entering  the 
town.J  As  he  came  within  three  or  four  leagues  of 
the  place,  nigh  the  village  of  Nora,  he  saw  at  a  dis- 
tance a  troop  of  horsemen.  Were  they  friends  or  foes  1 
Rapidly  Crotus,  rector  of  the  university,  Eobanus 
Esse,  the  friend  of  Melancthon,  (styled  by  Luther  the 
prince  of  poets,)  Euricius  Cordus,  John  Draco,  and 
others,  to  the  number  of  forty,  senators,  students,  and 

*  Terrorem  hunc  a  Sathana  sibi  dixit  adferri  .  .  .  (Melch. 
Adam.  p.  117.) 

f  Er  wolle  bey  der  erkandten  Wahreyt  mit  breytem  Fuss 
aushalten  .  .  .  (Mathesius,  p.  23— first  edition,  1566.) 

J  Nisi  periculum  sit  Erfordiam  ingredi.    (L.  Epp.  i.  680.)    , 


JUSTUS  JONAS— LUTHER  PREACHES  AT  ERFURTH— FAITH  AND  WORKS.         173 


burghers,  welcomed  him  with  joyful  acclamations.  A 
crowd  of  the  population  of  Erfurth  met  him  in  the 
road,  and  cheered  him  as  he  drew  nigh,  eager  to  be- 
nold  the  mighty  monk  who  had  dared  to  give  battle 
to  the  pope. 

A  young  man,  of  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  named 
Justus  Jonas,  preceded  the  party.*  Jonas,  after  study- 
ing the  law,  at  Erfurth,  had  been  elected  rector  of 
the  university,  in  1519.  Receiving  the  light  of  the 
Gospel,  which  was  then  beaming  forth  in  all  directions, 
he  had  conceived  the  wish  to  devote  himself  to  sacred 
learning.  "  I  think,"  said  Erasmus,  in  writing  to  him, 
"  that  God  has  chosen  you  as  his  instrument  to  make 
known  to  others  the  glory  of  his  Son  Jesus."f  The 
thoughts  of  Jonas  were  all  turned  toward  Luther  at 
Witternberg.  Some  years  before,  when  he  was  yet  a 
student  of  law,  his  enterprising  spirit  had  led  him,  in 
company  with  a  few  friends,  to  make  a  journey  on 
foot,  through  forests  infested  by  thieves,  and  across  a 
country  ravaged  by  the  plague,  in  order  to  visit  Eras- 
mus, who  was  then  at  Brussels.  And  shall  he  not 
brave  dangers  of  another  kind,  to  accompany  the  Re- 
former to  Worms  ?  He  entreated  Luther  to  allow  him 
to  join  him,  and  Luther  consented.  This  was  the  first 
meeting  of  the  two  doctors,  who  were  destined  to  pass 
their  whole  lives  in  labouring  together  for  the  revival 
of  the  church.  Divine  Providence  was  assembling 
around  Luther  men  who  were  destined  to  be  the  lights 
of  Germany  :  Melancthon,  Amsdorff,  Bugenhagen, 
Jonas.  After  his  return  from  Worms,  Jonas  was  elect- 
ed provost  of  the  church  of  Wittemberg,  and  Doctor 
of  Divinity.  "  Jonas,"  continued  Luther,  "  is  a  man 
whose  continued  life  on  this  earth  is  worth  any  pur- 
chase, "t  No  preacher  had  more  power  of  captivating 
his  hearers.  "  Pomeranus  is  exegetical,"  said  iMelanc- 
thon  ;  "  I  am  a  logician ;  Jonas  is  the  preacher. 
Words  flow  beautifully  from  his  lips,  and  his  elocuence  is 
full  of  energy.  But  Luther  excels  in  all."$  It  appears 
that,  about  this  time,  a  friend  of  Luther's  childhood, 
and  also  one  of  his  brothers,  joined  him  in  his  route. 

The  deputation  from  Erfurth  had  turned  their  horses' 
heads.  They  entered  its  walls,  on  horseback  and  on 
foot,  surrounding  Luther's  wagon.  At  the  city  gate, 
in  the  public  squares,  and  in  those  streets  where  the 
poor  monk  had  so  often  begged  a  morsel  of  bread,  a 
crowd  of  spectators  was  assembled.  Luther  alighted 
at  the  convent  of  the  Augustines.  Lange  welcomed 
him  with  joy.  Usingen,  and  some  of  the  more  aged 
friars,  manifested  considerable  coolness.  He  was  re- 
quested to  preach.  Preaching  had  been  forbidden  him ; 
but  the  herald  himself,  carried  away  by  the  feelings  of 
those  about  him,  gave  his  consent. 

On  the  Sunday  after  Easter,  the  church  of  the  Au- 
gustines, of  Erfurth,  was  crowded  to  excess.  The  bro- 
ther, whose  duty  it  once  was  to  unclose  the  gates,  and 
sweep  out  the  aisles,  ascended  the  pulpit,  and,  open- 
ing the  Bible,  read  these  words:  "PEACE  be  unto 
you :  and  when  Jesus  had  so  said,  he  showed  unto  them 
his  hands  and  his  side,"  John  xx.  19,  20.  "Philoso- 
phers, learned  doctors,  and  writers,"  said  he,  "  have  all 
laboured  to  show  how  man  can  attain  to  eternal  life,  and 
they  have  all  failed.  I  am  now  to  tell  you  the  way." 

In  every  age  this  has  been  the  great  question ;  ac- 
cordingly, his  hearers  were  all  attention. 

"  There  are  two  kinds  of  works,"  continued  the  Re- 

*  Hos  inter,  qui  nos  praevenerant,  ibat  Jonas,  Ille  decus  nos- 
tri,  primaque  fama  Chori.  (Eob.  Hessi.  Elegia  secunda.) 

t  Velut  organum  quoddam  electum  ad  illustrandam  filii  stii 
Jesu  gloriam.  (Erasmi  Epp.  v.  27.) 

J  Vir  est  quern  oportuit  multo  pretio  emptum  etservatum  in 
terra.  (Weismann.  i.  1436.) 

5)  Pomeranus  est  grammaticus,  ego  sum  dialecticus,  Jonas 
est  orator.  Lutherus  vero  nobit  omnibus  antecellit.  (Knapp 
JNarrat.  de  J.  Joua.  p.  581.) 


former :  "  works  not  of  ourselves,  and  these  are  good 
works ;  and  our  own  works,  and  they  are  but  little 
worth.  One  builds  a  church ;  another  goes  a  pilgrim- 
age to  St.  James's,  or  St.  Peter's  ;  a  third  fasts, 
prays,  assumes  the  cowl,  and  goes  barefoot ;  another 
does  something  else.  All  these  are  of  no  value,  and 
will  pass  away  ;  for  our  own  works  are  powerless. 
But  I  am  about  to  declare  to  you  what  is  work  indeed. 
God  has  raised  up  a  Man,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that 
He  might  destroy  death,  finish  transgression,  and  close 
the  gates  of  hell.  This  is  the  work  of  salvation.  The  de- 
vil thought  he  had  the  Lord  in  his  grasp,  when  he  saw 
him  between  two  thieves,  suffering  a  shameful  death, 
under  the  curse  of  God  and  men.  But  the  Godhead  dis- 
played its  power,  destroying  Death,  Sin,  and  Hell.  .  .  ." 

"  Christ  has  overcome  ! — this  is  the  great  news  ! — 
and  we  are  saved  by  his  work,  not  by  our  own.  The 
pope  teaches  a  different  doctrine.  But  I  affirm,  that 
even  the  holy  mother  of  God  is  saved  neither  by  her 
virginity,  nor  by  her  maternity  ;  nor  yet  by  her  purity 
or  her  works — but  solely  by  means  of  faith,  and  by  the 
operation  of  God.  .  ." 

While  Luther  was  preaching,  a  noise  was  suddenly 
heard  in  one  of  the  galleries,  and  it  was  thought,  it  was 
giving  way,  from  the  weight  of  the  crowd.  This 
caused  much  confusion  in  the  auditory.  Some  rushed 
from  their  places,  others  were  motionless  from  fear. 
The  preacher  stopped  for  a  moment — then,  stretch- 
ing forth  his  hand,  he  exclaimed  aloud,  "  Fear  not 
— there  is  no  danger — the  devil  is  seeking  to  throw 
hinderances  in  the  way  of  my  preaching  the  Gospel — 
but  he  shall  not  gain  his  point."*  At  his  bidding,  those 
that  were  leaving  the  place  stopped,  astonished  and 
constrained.  The  assembly  resumed  its  calmness,  and 
Luther  proceeded,  not  regarding  the  temptations  of 
the  devil.  "  Some,  perhaps,  will  say,  you  talk  to  us 
much  about  Faith,  teach  us,  then,  how  to  obtain  it. 
Well,  agreed  !  I  will  show  you  how.  Our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  said,  '  Peace  be  unto  you ."  '  Behold  my  hands  /' 
That  is  to  say,  Look,  O  man  !  it  is  I,  I  alone,  who 
have  taken  away  thy  sin,  and  redeemed  thee,  and  now 
thou  hast  peace,  saith  the  Lord. 

"  I,"  continued  Luther,  "  ate  not  the  fruit  of  the 
tree — no  more  did  you  ;  but  we  have  received  the  sin 
transmitted  to  us  by  Adam,  and  we  have  sinned.  In 
like  manner,  I  suffered  not  on  the  cross — no  more  did 
you  ;  but  Christ  suffered  for  ns.  We  are  justified  by 
the  work  of  God,  and  not  by  our  own.  I  myself,  saith 
the  Lord,  am  thy  righteousness  and  thy  Redeemer. 

"  Believe  the  Gospel — believe  St.  Paul — and  not 
the  letters  and  decretals  of  the  popes." 

Luther,  after  preaching  faith,  as  justifying  the  sinner, 
proceeds  to  preach  works,  as  the  fruits  and  evidence  of 
our  being  saved. 

"  Since  God  has  saved  us,  let  us  so  order  our  works 
that  he  may  take  pleasure  in  them.  Art  thou  rich  ? — 
let  thy  riches  be  the  supply  of  other  men's  poverty. 
Art  thou  poor  1 — let  thy  service  minister  to  the  rich. 
If  thy  labour  is  for  thyself  alone,  the  service  thou  of- 
ferest  to  God  is  a  mere  pretence."! 

Not  a  word  concerning  himself  did  Luther  find  place 
for  in  this  sermon  ;  nor  yet  for  any  allusion  to  the  cir- 
cumstances in  which  he  stood.  Not  a  word  concern- 
ing Worms,  the  emperor,  or  the  nuncios  ;  he  preached 
Christ,  and  Him  alone.  In  a  moment  when  the  eyes 
of  all  the  world  were  turned  on  him,  he  had  no  thought 
uppermost  for  himself — it  is  a  mark  of  the  faithful  ser- 
vant of  God. 

Luther  took  his  departure  from  Erfurth,  and  passed 
through  Gotha,  where  he  again  preached.  Myconius 
adds,  that  after  the  sermon,  when  the  congregation 

*  Agnosco  insidias,  hostis  acerbe,  tuas.  (Hessi.  Eleg.  tertia.) 
t  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xii.  485. 


174       THE  PEOPLE  AND  LUTHER— LUTHER  TO  SPALATIN— A  STRATAGEM 


Were  leaving,  the  devil  detached  from  the  pediment  of 
the  church  some  stones  that  had  not  moved  for  two 
hundred  years.  The  doctor  took  a  night's  rest  in  the 
convent  of  the  Benedictines,  at  Reinhardsbrunn,  and 
proceeded  from  thence  to  Eisenach,  where  he  was  sud- 
denly taken  ill.  Amsdorff,  Jonas,  Schurff,  and  all  his 
friends,  were  alarmed.  They  bled  him,  and  were  unre- 
mitting in  their  attentions.  The  Schulthess  of  the  town, 
John  Oswald,  brought  him  a  cordial ;  Luther  having 
taken  it,  had  some  sleep,  and,  refreshed  by  rest,  was 
enabled  to  resume  his  journey  on  the  following  morning. 

Everywhere,  as  he  passed,  the  people  of  the  coun- 
try flocked  round  him.*  His  progress  resembled  a 
triumph.  Men  contemplated  with  interest  the  bold  man 
who  was  going  to  present  himself,  bare-headed,  before 
the  emperor  and  the  empire,  f  A  dense  crowd  accom- 
panied his  steps,  discoursing  with  him.  "  Ah  !"  said 
some,  "  there  are  plenty  of  cardinals  and  bishops  at 
"Worms !  .  .  .  .  i  ou  will  be  burnt  alive,  and  your 
body  reduced  to  ashes,  as  they  did  with  John  Huss." 
But  nothing  daunted  the  monk.  "  Though  they  should 
kindle  a  fire  whose  flame  should  reach  from  Worms 
to  Wittemberg,  and  rise  up  to  heaven,  I  would  go 
through  it  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  stand  before 
them — I  would  enter  the  jaws  of  the  behemoth,  break 
his  teeth,  and  confess  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  "J 

One  day,  when  he  had  entered  into  an  inn,  and  the 
crowd  was,  as  usual,  pressing  about  him,  an  officer 
made  his  way  through,  and  thus  addressed  him  :  "  Are 
you  the  man  who  has  taken  in  hand  to  reform  the  pa- 
pacy 1  ...  How  can  you  expect  to  succeed  ?"  "  Yes," 
answered  Luther,  "  I  am  the  man.  I  place  my  depend- 
ence upon  that  Almighty  God,  whose  word  and  com- 
mandment is  before  me."  The  officer,  deeply  affected, 
gazed  on  him  with  a  mild  expression,  and  said  :  "Dear 
friend,  there  is  much  in  what  you  say  ;  I  am  a  ser- 
vant of  Charles,  but  your  Master  is  greater  than  mine. 
He  will  help  and  protect  you."$  Such  was  the  im- 
pression that  Luther  produced.  Even  his  enemies 
were  awed  by  the  sight  of  the  crowd  that  surrounded 
him  ;  but  they  have  depicted  his  progress  in  very  dif- 
ferent colours. ||  At  length  the  doctor  reached  Frank- 
fort, on  Sunday,  the  14th  of  April. 

Accounts  of  Luther's  progress  had,  before  this, 
reached  Worms.  The  pope's  partizans  had  not  ex- 
pected that  he  would  obey  the  emperor's  summons. 
Albert,  Cardinal-Archbishop  of  Mentz,  would  have 
given  the  world  to  stop  him  on  his  journey  ;  new  ex- 
pedients were  resorted  to  for  this  purpose. 

Luther  rested-  a  short  time  at  Frankfort ;  from 
thence  he  wrote  to  Spalatin,  who  was  then  with  the 
elector,  at  Worms,  announcing  his  approach.  It  is  the 
only  letter  he  wrote  during  the  journey.  "  I  am  ar- 
rived here," said  he,  "although  Satan  has  sought  to  stop 
me  in  my  way  by  sickness.  From  Eisenach  to  this 
place,  I  have  been  suffering,  and  I  am,  at  this  moment, 
in  worse  condition  than  ever.  I  find  that  Charles  has 
issued  an  edict  to  terrify  me  ;  but  Christ  lives,  and 
we  shall  enter  Worms  in  spite  of  all  the  councils  of 
hell,  and  all  the  powers  of  the  air.lT  Therefore,  en- 
gage a  lodging  for  me." 

Next  day  Luther  visited  the  learned  school  of  Wil- 

*  Iter  facenti  occurrebant  populi.  (Pallavioini.  Hist  C.  Tr- 
i.  H4.) 

t  Quacunque  iter  faciebant,  frequens  erat  concursus  homi- 
num,  vidend.  LiUtheri  studio.  (Cochlseus,  p.  29.) 

t  Ein  Feuer  das  bis  an  den  Himtnel  reichte  .  .  .  (Keil.  i.  90.) 

^  Nun  habt  Ihr  einen  grossern  Herrn,  denn  Ich.  (Keil  i 
90.) 

||  In  diversorris  multa  propinatio,  laata  compotatio,  musices 
quoque  gaudia  :  adeo  ut  Lutherus  ipse  alicubi  sonora  testu- 
dine  ludens,  omnium  in  se  oculos  converteret,  velut  Orpheus 
quidem,  sed  rasus  adhuc  et  cuculatus  eoque  miribilior.  (Coch- 
laeus, p.  29.) 

IT  Intrabimus  Wormatiam,  invitis  omnibus  portis  inferni  et 
potentatibus  ajris.  (L.  Epp.  i.  987.) 


Ham  Nesse,  the  celebrated  geographer  of  that  age.  "  Ap« 
ply  yourselves,"  said  he,  "  to  the  reading  of  the  Bible, 
and'the  investigation  of  truth."  Then,  laying  bis  right 
hand  on  one,  and  his  left  c-n  another,  he  pronounced 
his  blessing  on  all  the  scholars. 

If  Luther  was  thus  engaged  in  blessing  children,  he 
was  not  less  the  hope  of  aged  Christians.  A  widow 
of  great  age,  who  served  God  with  her  heart,  Cather- 
ne  of  Holzhausen,  came  to  him  with  these  words  : 
'  My  father  and  mother  predicted  to  me,  that  God 
would  one  day  raise  up  a  man  who  should  oppose  the 
vanities  of  the  pope,  and  rescue  the  Word  of  God.  I 
lope  you  are  that  man ;  and  I  wish  you  the  grace  and 
Holy  Spirit  of  God  for  your  help.''* 

These  feelings  were  very  far  from  being  general  at 
Frankfort.  John  Cochlaeus,  dean  of  the  Church  of  our 
Lady,  was  a  devoted  adherent  of  the  Roman  Church. 
He  could  not  repress  his  fears,  at  sight  of  Luther,  in 
lis  passage  through  Frankfort,  on  his  way  to  Worms. 
He  felt  that  the  church  had  need  of  zealous  defenders, 
[t  mattered  little  that  he  had  not  been  called  upon. 
Scarcely  had  Luther  left  the  city,  when  Cochlseus  set 
out  after  him,  ready,  as  he  said,  to  lay  down  his  life 
in  defence  of  the  honour  of  his  church,  t 

The  panic  was  great  among  the  partisans  of  the 
pope.  The  heresiarch  was  approaching ;  every  day, 
every  hour,  brought  him  nearer.  Once  at  Worms,  and 
all  might  be  ruined.  The  archbishop,  Albert,  the  con- 
fessor, Glapio,  and  all  the  political  advisers  of  the  em- 
peror, were  in  dismay.  How  to  stop  the  monk,  was 
he  question.  To  seize  and  carry  him  off,  was  not  to  be 
thought  of,  for  he  was  furnished  with  Charles's  safe-con- 
duct. Artifice  alone  could  compass  the  end.  Instantly 
they  devise  the  following  plan.  The  emperor's  confes- 
sor, and  his  grand  chamberlain,  Paul,  of  Amsdorff,  set 
out  in  haste  from  Worms.}:  They  direct  their  course 
toward  the  chateau  of  Ebernburg,  distant  about  ten 
leagues,  and  the  residence  of  Francis  Sickengen,  the 
knight  who  had  offered  Luther  an  asylum.  Bucer,  a 
young  Dominican,  and  chaplain  to  the  elector  palatine, 
converted  to  the  Gospel  at  the  period  of  the  confer- 
ence at  Heidelberg,  had  sought  refuge,  and  was  then 
residing  in  this  "abode  of  the  righteous."  The  knight, 
who  was  not  well  versed  in  matters  of  religion,  was 
easily  imposed  upon  ;  and  the  character  of  the  former 
chaplain  to  the  palatine,  favoured  the  views  of  the  con- 
fessor. In  fact,  Bucer  was  disposed  for  peace.  Distin- 
guishing fundamental  from  secondary  truths,  he  thought 
he  might  sacrifice  the  latter,  for  the  sake  of  peace  and 
unity.  § 

The  chamberlain,  and  Charles's  confessor,  opened  the 
business.  They  gave  Sickingen  and  Bucer  to  under- 
stand, that  if  Luther  were  once  in  Worms,  it  would  be 
all  over  with  him.  They  declared  that  the  emperor 
was  ready  to  send  certain  learned  men  to  Ebernburg, 
there  to  talk  over  matters  with  the  Doctor.  "  Both 
parties,"  said  they  to  the  knight,  "  will  put  themselves 
under  your  protection."  And  to  Bucer,  they  said,"  We 
agree  with  Luther  on  all  essential  things — the  only 
questions  between  us  relate  to  some  secondary  points. 
You  will  act  as  mediator  between  us."  The  knight 
and  the  doctor  were  shaken.  The  confessor  and  the 
chamberlain  continued — "  The  invitation  must  come 
from  you,"  said  they  to  Sickingen,  "  and  Bucer  must 
be  the  bearer  of  it."!!  The  whole  project  was  agreed 
to,  according  to  their  wish.  Only  let  Luther  credulously 

*  Ich  hoffe  dass  du  der  Verheissenu  .  .  .  (Cypt.  Hilar.  Ev. 
p.  608.) 

|  Lutherum  iliac  transeuntem  subsequutus,  ut  pro  honore 
ecclesiaa  vitam  suam  .  .  .  exponeret.  (Cochlaeus,  p.  36.) 

|  Dass  der  Keyser  seinen  Beichtvater  und  Ihrer  Majest. 
Ober  Kammerling,  zu  Sickengen  schickt.  (L.  Opp.  xvii.  687.) 

§  Condoce  faciebat  ra  ava^Kaia  a  probabilius  distinguere, 
ut  scirent  qune  retinenda  .  .  .  (.M.  Adam.  Vit.  Buceri,  p.  223.) 

j Dass  er  solitedeu  Luther  ?u  sich  fodern.  (L.  Opp.  xvii.  537.) 


LUTHER'S  RESOLUTION— ENTERS  WORMS— DEATH  SONG. 


176 


obey  their  invitation  to  Ebernburg,  and  the  term  of  his 
safe-conduct  will  soon  expire  : — then  who  can  protect 
him] 

Luther  had  reached  Oppenheim.  In  three  days  his 
safe-conduct  would  be  void.  A  troop  of  horsemen 
were  seen  approaching,  and  soon  he  recognized  the 
same  Bucer  with  whom  he  had  held  such  intimate  con- 
versations at  Heidelberg.*  "  These  horsemen  belong 
to  Francis  Sickingen,"  said  Bucer,  after  the  first  greet- 
ings. "  He  has  sent  me  to  conduct  you  to  his  fortress,  t 
The  emporor's  confessor  desires  a  conference  with 
you.  His  influence  with  Charles  is  unbounded : — 
everything  may  yet  be  arranged  ;  but  have  nothing  to 
do  with  Aleander  !"  Jonas,  Amsdorff,  Schurff,  knew 
not  what  to  think.  Bucer  urged  him : — but  Luther 
never  faltered.  "  I  shall  go  on,"  answered  he,  "  and 
if  the  emperor's  confessor  has  anything  to  say  to  me, 
he  will  find  me  at  Worms.  I  repair  to  the  place  of 
summons." 

In  the  meanwhile,  Spalatin  himself  began  to  be  dis- 
turbed with  apprehensions.  Situate  in  the  midst  of 
enemies  of  the  Reformation,  he  heard  it  said  on  all 
sides  that  the  heretic's  safe-conduct  would  be  disre- 
garded. His  friendship  took  the  alarm.  At  the  mo- 
ment when  Luther  was  approaching  the  city,  a  servant 
met  him,  and  delivered  him  a  message  from  the  chap- 
lain :  "Abstain  from  entering  Worms."  And  this 
from  Spalatin  himself,  the  elector's  confidential  adviser ! 
Luther,  still  unshaken,  turned  his  eyes  on  the  messen- 
ger, and  answered,  "  Go  tell  your  master,  that  though 
there  should  be  as  many  devils  at  Worms,  as  there  are 
tiles  on  its  roofs,  I  would  enter  i'£."t  At  no  time  had 
the  grandeur  of  Luther's  spirit  been  more  evidenced. 
The  messenger  re-entered  Worms,  and  delivered  the 
astounding  declaration.  "  I  was  then  intrepid,"  (a  few 
days  before  his  death,)  "  I  feared  nothing.  God  can 

five  this  boldness  to  man.     I  know  not  whether  now 
should  have  so  much  liberty  and  joy."    "  When  our 
cause  is  good,"  adds  his  disciple,  Mathesius,  "the  heart 
expands  and  gives  courage  and  energy  to  the  evangelist 
and  the  soldier."^ 

At  last,  on  the  morning  of  the  16th  of  April,  Luther  dis- 
covered the  walls  of  the  ancient  city.  All  were  expect- 
ing him.  But  one  subject  occupied  the  thoughts  of  the 
citizens.  Some  young  nobles,  Bernard,  of  Kirschfeld, 
Albert.  Lindenau,  with  six  mounted  cavaliers,  and  other 
gentlemen  of  the  prince's  retinue,  to  the  number  in  all 
of  a  hundred,  (according  to  Pallavicini,)  in  their  impa- 
tience, rode  out  of  the  city  to  meet  him,  and  surround- 
ing his  travelling  car,  escorted  him  to  the  gates.  He 
went  forward.  The  Imperial  herald  galloped  before, 
attired  in  the  vestments  of  his  office.  Luther  came 
next,  in  his  modest  vehicle.  Jonas  followed  on  horse- 
back, and  the  party  of  horsemen  surrounded  him.  A 
vast  crowd  was  awaiting  his  arrival  at  the  gales.  At 
ten  o'clock  he  entered  within  those  walls,  whence  so 
many  had  predicted  to  him  that  he  would  never  again 
depart.  Behold  him  in  Worms  ! 

Two  thousand  persons  accompanied  the  famed  monk 
of  Witternberg  through  the  streets  of  the  city.  Peo- 
ple ran  to  their  doors  to  see  him.  The  crowd  was 
increasing  every  moment — and  was  even  greater  than 
at  the  public  entry  of  the  emperor  himself.  Of  a  sud- 
den, says  an  historian,  a  man  clothed  in  grotesque  ha- 
biliments, and  bearing  before  him  a  lofty  cross,  as  is 
customary  at  funerals,  penetrated  through  the  crowd, 
and  advanced  toward  Luther  : — then,  with  the  shrill  and 
plaintive  cadence  in  which  the  priests  perform  masses 

*  Da  kam  Bucer  zu,  mit  etliehen  Reuturn.    (Ibid.) 

|  Und  wollte  mir  uberreden  zu  Sickingen  gen  Ebernburg 
zu  kommen  (L.  Opp.  xvii.  577.) 

£  Wenn  so  viel  Teufel  zu  Wormn  waren,  als  Zlegel  auf  den 
Dachern  noch  wollt  Ich  hinein  !  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  587.) 

$  So  wachst  das  Herz  im  Leibe  .   .  •  (Math.  p.  24.) 


for  the  repose  of  the  dead,  he  chanted  these  words, 
as  if  he  were  uttering  them  from  the  abode  of  departed 
spirits — 

Advenisti,  O  desiderabilis ! 
Quern  expectabamus  in  tenebris  !* 

Thus  was  Luther's  arrival  celebrated  by  a  requiem. 
It  was  the  court  fool  of  one  of  the  Dukes  of  Bavaria, 
who,  (if  the  account  may  be  depended  upon,)  thus  gave 
to  Luther  one  of  those  warnings,  replete  at  once  with 
solemn  instruction  and  irony,  of  which  so  many  in- 
stances are  on  record.  But  the  shouts  of  the  crowd 
soon  drowned  the  de  profundis  of  the  cross-bearer. 
The  procession  made  its  way  witn  difficulty  through 
the  people.  At  last,  the  herald  of  the  Empire  stopped 
before  the  hotel  of  the  Knights  of  Rhodes.  It  was 
there  that  Frederic  of  Thun,  and  Philip  Feilitsch,  two 
counsellors  of  the  elector,  and  Ulric  Pappenheim,  the 
Marshal  of  the  Empire,  had  taken  up  their  abode. 
Luther  alighted  from  his  wagon,  and,  as  he  set  foot  on 
the  ground,  exclaimed,  "  God  will  be  my  defence."! 
"  I  entered  Worms  "  said  he,  at  a  later  period,"  in  an 
open  cart  and  in  a  monk's  frock.  And  every  one  came 
out  into  the  streets,  desiring  to  see  friar  Martin. "t 

The  intelligence  of  his  arrival  was  received  with  alarm 
by  the  Elector  of  Saxony  and  Aleander.  Albert,  tho 
young  and  accomplished  Archbishop,  whose  mind  was 
in  a  middle  position,  was  dismayed  at  this  daring  step. 
"  If  I  had  no  more  courage  than  the  Archbishop,"  said 
Luther,  "  true  it  is,  they  would  never  have  seen  me  at 
Worms." 

Charles  V.  instantly  convoked  his  council.  The 
confidential  adviser  of  the  emperor  repaired  in  haste 
to  the  palace — for  the  fear  had  communicated  to  them. 
"  Luther  is  come,"  said  Charles,"  what  must  be  done  1" 

Modo,  Bishop  of  Palermo,  arid  Chancellor  of  Flan- 
ders, answered,  according  to  the  testimony  of  Luther : 
— "  We  have  long  thought  of  this  matter.  Let  your 
Majesty  rid  yourself  at  once  of  this  man.  Did  not 
Sigismund  bring  John  Huss  to  the  stake  1  One  is  un- 
der no  obligation,  either  to  give  or  to  observe  a  safe- 
conduct  in  the  case  of  heretics. "$  "  Not  so,"  said 
Charles,  "  what  we  promise  we  should  observe  and 
keep."  It  was,  therefore,  agreed,  that  the  Reformer 
should  be  heard. 

While  the  great  were  thus  planning  how  to  deal  with 
Luther,  there  were  not  a  few  in  Worms  rejoicing  in 
the  opportunity  of  at  last  beholding  this  distinguished 
servant  of  God.  Capito,  chaplain  and  counsellor  of 
the  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  was  of  their  number.  This 
remarkable  man,  who,  a  little  while  before,  had  preach- 
ed the  Gospel  in  Switzerland  with  much  libertyll — 
though  he  then  owed  it  to  the  station  he  filled,  to  pur- 
sue a  course  which  exposed  him  to  the  charge  of  cow- 
ardice from  the  Evangelical  preachers,  and  of  dissi- 
mulation from  the  Romanists. IT  Yet  at  Mentz,  he  had 
preached  the  doctrine  of  faith  with  great  clearness. 
When  he  was  leaving  that  city,  he  had  arranged  for 
his  place  being  supplied  by  a  young  and  zealous  preach- 
er, named  Hedion.  The  word  of  God  was  not  bound 
in  that  ancient  seat  of  the  German  primacy.  The 
Gospel  was  eagerly  listened  to  ;  in  vain  did  the  monks 
attempt  to  preach  from  the  Scriptures  after  their  man- 
ner ;  in  vain  did  they  make  every  effort  to  arrest  the 
impulsion  given  to  men's  minds.  Their  failure  was 

*  Thou  art  come  whom  we  desired— whom  we  waited  for 
in  the  regions  of  darkness  ! 

t  Deus  stabit  pro  me.    (Pallavicini,  i.  114  ) 

i  L.  Opp.  xvii.  686. 

$  .  .  .  Dass  Ihre  Majestat  den  Luther  aufs  erste  beyseit 
thate  und  umbringen  liess.  .  .  (Ibid.) 

||  Book  VIII. 

IT  Astutia  plusquam  vulpina  vehementer  callidum  .  .  ej 
Lutheruni  versutissime  dissimulabat.    (Cochlseus.  p.  36.) 


176 


CAPITO  AND  THE  TEMPORISERS— CITATION— LUTHER'S  PRAYER. 


complete.*  But  while  preaching  the  new  doctrine, 
Capito  sought  to  maintain  friendly  relations  with  its 
persecutors — with  a  few  of  the  same  opinions,  he 
flattered  himself  that  he  might,  in  this  way,  render 
great  service  to  the  Church.  To  hear  them  talk,  one 
might  have  thought  that  if  Luther  was  not  burnt,  and 
his  followers  excommunicated,  it  was  only  owing  to 
the  influence  that  Capito  possessed  with  the  Arch- 
bishop t  Cochlseus,  dean  of  Frankfort,  arriving  at 
Worms  at  the  same  time  as  Luther,  repaired  direct  to 
Capito's  residence.  The  latter,  who  at  least  was  out- 
wardly on  very  friendly  terms  with  Aleander,  introduced 
Cochlaeus  to  him,  becoming  thus  a  connecting  link 
between  the  Reformer's  two  great  enemies.^  Doubt- 
less Capito  imagined  that  he  did  service  to  the  cause 
of  Christ,  by  keeping  up  these  appearances ;  but  it 
would  be  impossible  to  show  any  good  effect  flowing 
from  them.  The  event  almost  always  disconcerts  such 
calculations  of  human  policy,  proving  that  a  decided 
course,  while  it  is  the  most  frank,  is  also  most  wise. 

Meanwhile  crowds  continued  to  gather  outside  the 
hotel  of  Rhodes  where  Luther  had  alighted.  Some 
had  conceived  an  ide-a  of  him  as  a  prodigy  of  wisdom  ; 
others  as  a  monster  of  iniquity.  Every  one  desired  to 
see  him.$  They  left  him,  however,  a  few  hours  to 
recruit  himself  after  his  journey,  and  discourse  with  his 
most  intimate  friends.  But  as  soon  as  the  evening 
closed  in,  counts,  barons,  knights,  gentlemen,  ecclesi- 
astics, and  citizens,  flocked  about  him.  All,  even  those 
most  opposed  to  him,  were  struck  with  his  courageous 
bearing — the  joy  that  beamed  in  his  countenance — the 
power  of  his  eloquence,  and  the  solemn  elevation  and 
enthusiasm  which  gave  to  the  words  of  a  single  monk 
a  sort  of  irresistible  authority.  But  some  ascribed  this 
grandeur  to  a  something  divine  ;  while  the  partisans  of 
the  Pope  loudly  exclaimed  that  he  was  possessed  by  a 
devil,  li  Visitors  poured  in,  and  the  succession  of  the 
curious  kept  Luther  from  his  bed  till  a  late  hour. 

On  the  next  morning,  17th  of  April,  the  hereditary 
Marshal  of  the  Empire,  Ulric  Pappenheim,  cited  him 
to  appear  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  in  presence 
of  his  Imperial  Majesty  and  of  the  States  of  the  Empire. 
Luther  received  the  message  with  profound  respect. 

Thus  all  things  were  ready.  He  was  about  to  ap- 
pear for  Jesus  Christ  before  the  most  august  of  all  as- 
semblies. Encouragements  were  not  wanting.  The 
bold  knight,  Ulrich  Hutten,  was  then  in  the  castle  of 
Ebernburg.  Prevented  coming  to  Worms,  (for  Leo 
the  Tenth  had  desired  Charles  to  send  him  bound  hand 
and  foot  to  Rome,)  he  resolved  at  least  to  stretch  out 
the  hand  of  friendship  to  Luther,  and  on  the  same  day, 
17th  of  A.pril,  he  wrote  to  him,  adopting  the  words  of 
the  king  of  Israel: — "  The  Lord  hear  thee  in  the  day 
of  trouble  :  the  name  of  the  God  of  Jacob  defend  thee  : 
send  thee  help  out  of  Zion :  grant  thee  according  to 
thine  own  hearty  and  fulfil  all  thy  counsel.^  0  beloved 
Luther,  my  venerated  father  !  .  .  .  .  fear  not  and  stand 
firm.  The  counsels  of  the  wicked  have  laid  wait  for 
you,  they  have  opened  their  mouths  against  you  like 
roaring  lions.  But  the  Lord  will  arise  against  them 
and  put  them  to  flight.  Fight,  therefore,  valiantly,  the 
battle  of  Christ.  For  my  part,  I  too  will  fight  boldly. 
Would  to  God  I  might  be  allowed  to  face  their  frowns. 
But  the  Lord  will  deliver  his  Vine,  that  the  wild  boar 

»Evangelium  audiunt  avidissime,  verbum  Dei  alligatum 
non  est  .  .  *  Caspar  Hedio  Zw.  Epp.  p.  157. 

t  Lutherus  in  hoc  districtu  dudum  esset  combustus,  Lu- 
theran! uTjwuvayuyot,  nisi  Capito  aliter  persuasisset  prin- 
cipi.  (Ibid.  148.) 

J  Hie  (Capito)  ilium  (Cochlaeum)  insinuavit  Hieronymo 
Aleandro,  nuncio  Leonis  X.  (Cochlseus,  p.  36.) 

6  Eadem  die  tota  civitas  solicits  confluxit . . .  (Pallavicini, 
1.  114.) 

!|  Nescio  quid  divinum  suspicabantur  ;  ex  adverse  alii  malo 
demoae  obsessum  existimabant.  (Ibid.)  H  Psa.  xx. 


of  the  forest  has  laid  waste  ....  Christ  preserve 
you  !"*.  .  .  .  Bucer  did  what  Hutten  was  prevented 
doing  ;  he  made  the  journey  from  Ebernburg  to  Worms, 
and  never  left  his  friend  during  his  stay  there,  t 

But  Luther  looked  not  to  men  for  his  strength.  w  He 
who,  attacked  by  the  enemy,  holds  up  the  buckler  of 
Faith,"  said  he  one  day,  "  is  like  Perseus  presenting 
the  head  of  the  Gorgon.  Whoever  looks  upon  it  is 
struck  dead.  It  is  thus  that  we  should  hold  up  the 
Son  of  God  against  the  snares  of  the  devil."J  On  tho 
morning  of  this  17th  April,  he  was  for  a  few  minutes 
in  deep  exercise  of  mind.  God's  face  seemed  to  be 
veiled,  and — his  faith  forsook  him : — his  enemies  seemed 
to  multiply  before  him,  and  his  imagination  was  over- 
come by  the  aspect  of  his  dangers.  His  soul  was  like 
a  ship  driven  by  a  violent  tempest,  rocked  from  side  to 
side — one  moment  plunged  in  the  abyss,  and  the  next 
carried  up  to  heaven.  In  that  hour  of  bitter  trial — 
when  he  drank  of  the  cup  of  Christ — an  hour  which  to 
him  was  as  the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  he  threw  him- 
self with  his  face  upon  the  earth,  and  uttered  those 
broken  cries,  which  we  cannot  understand,  without 
entering,  in  thought,  into  the  anguish  of  those  deeps 
from  whence  they  rose  to  God.§  "  Oh  God,  Almighty 
God  everlasting  !  how  dreadful  is  the  world  !  behold 
how  its  mouth  opens  to  swallow  me  up,  and  how  small 
is  my  faith  in  Thee  !  .  .  Oh  !  the  weakness  of  the  flesh, 
and  the  power  of  Satan  !  If  I  am  to  depend  upon  any 
strength  of  this  world — all  is  over.  .  .  .  The  knell  IB 

struck.  .  .  .  Sentence  is  gone  forth O  God  !  O 

God  !  0  thou,  my  God  !  help  me  against  all  the  wis- 
dom of  this  world.  Do  this,  I  beseech  thee  ;  thou 

shouldst  do  this by  thy  own  mighty  power 

The  work  is  not  mine,  but  Thine.  I  have  no  business 

here I  have  nothing  to  contend  for  with  these 

great  men  of  the  world  !  I  would  gladly  pass  my  days 
in  happiness  and  peace.  But  the  cause  is  Thine,  .... 
and  it  is  righteous  and  everlasting !  O  Lord  1  help 
me  !  O  faithful  and  unchangeable  God  !  I  lean  not 
upon  man.  It  were  vain  !  Whatever  is  of  man  is  totter- 
ing, whatever  proceeds  from  him  must  fail.  My  God  ! 
my  God  !  dost  thou  not  hear  1  My  God  !  art  thou  no 
longer  living?  Nay,  thou  canst  not  diel  Thou  dost 
but  hide  Thyself.  Thou  hast  chosen  me  for  this  work. 
I  know  it !  ...  Therefore,  0  God,  accomplish  thine 
own  will !  Forsake  me  not,  for  the  sake  of  thy  well- 
beloved  Son,  Jesus  Christ,  my  defence,  my  buckler, 
and  my  strong  hold." 

After  a  moment  of  silent  struggle,  he  continued, 
"  Lord — where  art  thou  1  ...  My  God,  where  art  thou  1 
.  .  .  Come  !  I  pray  thee,  I  am  ready.  .  .  .  Behold  me 
prepared  to  lay  down  my  life  for  thy  truth  .  .  .  suffer- 
ing like  a  larnb.  For  the  cause  is  holy.  It  is  thine 
own  !  .  .  .  I  will  not  let  thee  go !  no,  nor  yet  for  all 
eternity  !  And  though  the  world  should  be  thronged 
with  devils — and  this  body,  which  is  the  work  of  thine 
hands,  should  be  cast  forth,  trodden  under  foot,  cut  in 
pieces,  ....  consumed  to  ashes,  .  .  .  my  soul  is  thine. 
Yes,  I  have  thine  own  word  to  assure  me  of  it.  My 
soul  belongs  to  thee,  and  will  abide  with  thee  for  ever  ! 
Amen  !  O  God  send  help  I ...  Amen  !"|': 

This  prayer  discloses  to  us  Luther  and  the  Refor- 
mation.lf  History  here  lifts  the  veil  of  the  sanctuary, 
and  discovers  the  secret  source  whence  strength  and 
courage  descended  to  the  humble  and  despised  man, 
who  was  God's  instrument,  to  set  at  liberty  the  soul 
and  thought  of  man,  and  open  a  new  age.  Luther  and 

*  Servet  te  Christus.     (L.  Opp.  ii.  175.) 
f  Bucerus  eodem  venit.     (M.  Adam.  Vit.  Buceri,  p.  212.) 
t  Also  sollen  wir  den  Sohn  Gottes  als  Gorgonis  Haupt .  . . 
(L.  Opp.  (W.)  xxii.  1650.) 
^  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.598. 

||  Die  Glocke  ist  schon  gegossen.     (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  539.) 
IT  Die  Seele  ist  dein.    (Ibid-> 


STRENGTH  OF  THE  REFORMATION— LUTHER  REPAIRS  TO  THE  DIET.        177 


the  Reformation  lie  open  before  us.  We  discern  their 
inmost  springs.  We  see  where  their  power  lay.  This 
effusion  of  a  soul,  offering  itself  up  in  the  cause  of  truth, 
is  found  in  the  collection  of  documents  relative  to  the 
citation  of  Luther  to  Worms,  under  number  16,  of  the 
safe-conducts,  and  other  papers  of  that  nature.  One  of 
his  friends  doubtless  overheard  and  preserved  it.  In 
our  judgment,  it  is  one  of  the  noblest  of  historical  docu- 
ments. 

Four  o'clock  arrived.  The  marshal  of  the  empire 
appeared.  Luther  prepared  to  set  out.  God  had 
heard  his  prayers  ;  he  was  calm  when  he  quitted  the 
hotel.  The  herald  walked  first.  Next  came  the 
marshal  of  the  empire  followed  by  the  reformer.  The 
crowd  that  thronged  the  streets  was  yet  more  dense 
than  on  the  preceding  evening.  It  was  not  possible 
to  advance — it  was  in  vain  that  orders  were  given  to 
make  way — the  crowd  was  increasing.  At  last  the 
hearald,  seeing  the  impossibility  of  reaching  the  town 
hall,  demanded  admission  into  some  private  houses, 
and  conducted  Luther  through  the  gardens  and  back 
ways  to  the  place  where  the  Diet  was  assembled.* 
The  people  who  witnessed  this,  rushed  into  the 
houses  after  the  monk  of  Wittemberg,  stationing 
themselves  at  the  windows  overlooking  the  gardens, 
and  many  of  them  taking  their  stand  on  the  tops  of  the 
houses.  The  roof  and  the  pavements,  above  and  be- 
neath, all  around  him,  were  covered  with  spectators.! 

Arriving  at  last  at  the  town  hall,  Luther  and  his 
companions  were  again  at  a  loss  how  to  pass  the  gate- 
way, which  was  thronged  by  the  multitude.  Make 
room  !  was  the  cry ;  but  no  one  stirred.  The  Im- 
perial soldiers  then  cleared  a  passage.  The  people 
hurrying  forward  to  enter  together  with  the  reformer, 
the  soldiers  drove  them  back  with  their  halberds. 
Luther  entered  the  interior  of  the  hall,  and  there  again 
he  beheld  the  enclosure  crowded.  In  the  ante-cham- 
bers, and  window  recesses,  there  were  more  than  five 
thousand  spectators,  German,  Italian,  Spanish,  and  of 
other  nations.  Luther  advanced  with  difficulty.  As 
he  drew  near  the  door,  which  was  to  admit  him  to  the 
presence  of  his  judges,  he  was  met  by  a  valiant  knight, 
George  Freundsberg,  who,  four  years  afterward,  attend- 
ed by  his  followers,  couched  his  lance  at  the  battle  of 
Pavia,  and,  bearing  down  the  left  of  the  French  army, 
drove  it  into  the  Tessino,  and  decided  the  captivity  of 
the  king  of  France.  This  old  general,  seeing  Luther 
pass,  touched  him  on  the  shoulder,  and  shaking  his 
head,  blanched  in  many  battles,  said,  kindly,  "My  poor 
monk,  my  poor  monk  !  thou  hast  a  march  and  a  strug- 
gle to  go  through,  such  as  neither  I  nor  many  other 
captains  have  seen  the  like  in  our  most  bloody  battles. 
But  if  thy  cause  be  just,  and  thou  art  sure  of  it,  go 
forward  in  God's  name,  and  fear  nothing  !  He  will  not 
forsake  thee  !"t  A  noble  tribute  rendered  by  martial 
spirit  to  the  courage  of  the  soul.  "  He  that  ruleth  his 
spirit,  is  greater  than  he  that  taketh  a  city,"  was  the 
word  of  a  king.§ 

And  now  the  doors  of  the  hall  were  thrown  open — 
Luther  entered,  and  many  who  formed  no  part  of  the 
Diet  gained  admission  with  him.  Never  had  any  man 
appeared  before  so  august  an  assembly.  The  emperor, 
Charles  V.,  whose  kingdom  extended  across  both 
hemispheres — his  brother,  the  archduke  Ferdinand — 
six  electors  of  the  empire,  most  of  whose  successors 
are  now  crowned  heads — twenty-four  dukes,  many  of 

*  Und  ward  also  durch  heimliche  Gange  gefuhrt.  (L.  Opp. 
(L.)  xvii.  5-14.) 

t  Doch  lief  das  Volk  haufig  zu,  und  stieg  sogar  auf  Dacher. 
(Seek  3-13) 

I  Munchlein,  Munchlein,  du  gehest  jctzt  einen  Gang,  einen 
solchen  Stand  zu  thun,  dergleichen  Ich  und  mancher  Obris- 
ter,  auch  in  unser  allerernestesten  Schlacht-Ordnung  nicht 
gcthan  hahen.  .  .  (Seek.  p.  348.) 
,  §  Proverbs  xvi.  32. 


them  territorial  sovereigns,  and  among  whom  were  some 
who  bore  a  name  in  after  times  held  in  fear  and  horror 
by  the  nations  who  accepted  the  Reformation- — (the 
duke  of  Alva,  and  his  two  sons) — eight  margraves — 
thirty  archbishops,  bishops,  and  prelates — seven  ambas- 
sadors, including  those  of  France  and  England— the 
deputies  often  free  cities — a  number  of  princes,  counts, 
and  barons  of  rank— the  pope's  nuncios — in  all  two 
hundred  persons.  Such  was  the  imposing  assemblage 
before  which  stood  Martin  Luther. 

His  appearance  there  was  of  itself  a  signal  victory 
over  the  papacy.  The  man  whom  the  pope  had  con- 
demned stood  before  a  tribunal  raised  by  that  very  fact 
above  the  pope's  authority.  Placed  under  interdict, 
and  struck  out  from  human  fellowship  by  the  pope — 
he  was  cited  in  respectful  terms,  and  received  before 
the  noblest  of  human  auditories.  The  pope  had  de- 
creed that  his  lips  should  be  closed  for  ever — and  he 
was  about  to  unclose  them  in  presence  of  thousands 
assembled  from  the  remotest  countries  of  Christendom. 
Thus  had  an  immense  revolution  been  effected  by  his 
means  ;  Rome  was  brought  down  from  her  seat,  and 
the  power  that  thus  humbled  her  was  the  word  of  a 
monk ! 

Some  princes,  who  were  near  him,  observing  the 
humble  son  of  the  miner  of  Mansfield  awed  and  af- 
fected in  this  assembly  of  sovereigns,  approached  him 
kindly.  One  of  them  whispered,  "  Fear  not  them  who 
are  able  to  kill  the  body,  and  cannot  destroy  the  soul." 
Another  whispered  to  him,  "  When  you  are  brought 
before  kings,  it  shall  be  given  to  you  by  the  Spirit  of 
your  Father  what  you  shall  say."*  Thus  was  the 
monk  strengthened  with  his  Master's  words  by  the 
great  ones  of  this  world. 

Meanwhile  the  guards  made  way  for  Luther.  He 
stepped  forward,  and  found  himself  in  front  of  the 
throne  of  Charles  V.  All  eyes  were  turned  upon  him. 
The  confusion  was  stilled,  and  there  was  a  profound 
silence.  "  Say  nothing  until  a  question  is  put  to  you,'* 
said  the  marshal  of  the  empire,  as  he  quitted  him. 

After  a  moment's  solemn  pause,  John  Eck,  the  chan- 
cellor of  the  archbishop  of  Treves,  and  the  friend  of 
Aleander,  whom  we  must  not  confound  with  the  theo- 
logian of  that  name,  rose,  and  in  a  clear  and  sonorous 
accent,  first  in  Latin,  and  then  in  German,  said  : 

"  Martin  Luther,  his  sacred  and  invincible  majesty, 
has  cited  you  before  his  throne,  acting  on  the  opinion 
and  advice  of  the  states  of  the  holy  Roman  empire, 
to  require  you  to  answer  to  these  questions :  First, 
Do  you  acknowledge  these  writings  to  have  been  com- 
posed by  you  1"  At  the  same  time  the  speaker  pointed 
with  his  fingtr  to  about  twenty  volumes,  placed  on  a 
table  in  the  centre  of  the  hall,  immediately  before 
Luther.  "  I  could  not  guess  where  they  had  obtained 
them,"  said  Luther,  relating  the  fact;  it  was  Aleander 
who  had  taken  the  trouble  to  collect  them.  "  Second- 
ly," continued  the  chancellor,  "  Are  you  prepared  to 
retract  these  works,  and  the  propositions  contained 
therein,  or  do  you  persist  in  what  you  have  therein 
advanced  ?" 

Luther,  without  faltering,  was  about  to  answer  the 
first  question  in  the  affirmative,  when  Jerome  Schurff, 
hastily  interrupting  him,  exclaimed  aloud,  "  Let  their 
titles  be  read."t 

The  Chancellor,  advancing  to  the  table,  read  the 
titles.  There  were  in  the  number  several  works  of  a 
devotional  character,  and  altogether  unconnected  with 
the  controverted  points. 

The  enumeration  being  gone  through,  Luther  spoke 
as  follows,  first  in  Latin,  then  in  German  : 

*  Einige  aus  denen  Reichs-Gliedern  sprachen  Ihm  einen 
Muth,  mit  Christ!  Worten,  ein.  .  .  (Matt.  x.  20,  28,  Secken- 
dorf,  p.  348.) 

\  Legantur  tituli  librorum.    (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  588.) 


178      LUTHER'S  ANSWER— HIS  PRUDENCE— THE  SPANIARDS— LUTHER'S  VOW. 


"  Most  gracious  emperor,  princes,  and  lords  ! 

"  His  imperial  majesty  puts  to  me  two  questions. 

"  As  to  the  first,  I  ackowledge  the  books,  the  names 
of  which  have  been  read,  to  be  of  my  writing ;  I  can- 
not deny  them. 

"  As  to  the  second,  seeing  that  it  is  a  question  which 
has  reference  to  faith,  and  the  salvation  of  souls — a 
question  which  concerns  the  word  of  God,  the  greatest 
and  most  precious  treasure  of  heaven  or  earth  * — I 
should  act  rashly  if  I  were  to  answer  without  reflec- 
tion. I  might  say  less  than  the  circumstance  demands, 
or  more  than  truth  requires,  and  so  sin  against  that 
word  of  Christ — Whosoever  shall  deny  me  before  men, 
him  will  I  deny  before  my  Father  who  is  in  heaven. 
Therefore  it  is  that  I  most  humbly  desire  his  imperial 
majesty  to  allow  rne  time,  that  I  may  answer  without 
offending  against  the  word  of  God." 

This  reply,  far  from  countenancing  the  supposition 
of  indecision  in  Luther,  was  worthy  of  the  Reformer 
and  of  the  assembly.  It  was  fit  that  he  should  act 
calmly  and  circumspectly  in  a  question  of  such  grave 
importance,  that  this  solemn  moment  of  his  life  might 
be  clear  from  the  suspicion  of  passion  or  precipitancy. 
Besides,  by  taking  reasonable  time,  the  deliberate  firm- 
ness of  his  resolution  would  be  the  more  strikingly  ap- 
parent. Many  men  in  the  history  of  the  world  have 
brought  great  evils  on  themselves,  and  their  contempo- 
raries, by  a  hasty  word.  Luther  restrained  his  own 
naturally  impetuous  temper  : — he  suppressed  the  words 
that  were  on  his  tongue  and  kept  silence,  when  all  the 
feelings  that  inspired  him  struggled  to  find  utterance. 
This  self-command  and  calmness,  so  unusual  in  such 
a  man,  increased  his  power  a  hundred-fold,  and  enabled 
him  afterwards  to  answer  with  a  prudence,  a  force,  and 
a  dignity,  which  baulked  the  expectations  of  his  ene- 
mies, and  confounded  their  pride  and  malice. 

Nevertheless,  as  his  tone  had  been  respectful,  many 
thought  he  was  wavering.  A  ray  of  hope  appeared  for 
the  Roman  courtiers.  Charles,  eager  to  know  more  of 
a  rnan  whose  teaching  disturbed  the  Empire,  had  ob- 
served him  narrowly.  Turning  to  one  of  his  courtiers, 
he  remarked,  contemptuously,  "  Certainly  that  man  will 
never  induce  me  to  turn  heretic."t  Then,  rising  from 
his  seat,  the  young  Emperor,  attended  by  his  ministers, 
withdrew  to  the  council  chamber  ; — the  Electors  as- 
sembled in  another  apartment,  together  with  the  Prin- 
ces ; — the  deputies  of  the  free  cities  in  a  third.  The 
Diet,  on  reassembling,  agreed  to  grant  the  request.  It 
was  a  notable  blunder  in  men  actuated  by  passion  and 
prejudice. 

"  Martin  Luther,"  said  the  Chancellor  of  iVeves, 
"  his  Imperial  Majesty,  acting  in  the  goodness  of  his 
nature,  consents  to  allow  you  one  day's  delay  ;  but  on 
condition  that  you  make  answer  by  word  of  mouth,  and 
not  in  writing." 

Immediately  the  Imperial  herald  came  forward,  and 
conducted  Luther  back  to  the  hotel.  Threats  and 
shouts  accompanied  him  through  the  crowd  ; — alarming 
reports  reached  his  friends.  "  The  Diet  is  displeased," 
it  was  said :  "  the  Pope's  envoys  triumph  ; — the  Re- 
former will  fall  a  victim."  Men's  passions  were  roused. 
Some  gentlemen  repaired  in  haste  to  Luther.  "  Doc- 
tor," said  they  in  agitation,  "  what  is  all  this  1  They 

say  they  are  resolved  to  bring  you  to  the  stake t 

If  they  dare  attempt  it,"  they  added,  "  it  shall  be  at  the 
peril  of  their  lives."  "  And  it  would  have  been  so," 
said  Luther,  repeating  their  words  at  Eisleben  twenty 
years  later. 

*  Weil  dies  erne  Frage  vom  Glauben  und  der  Seelen  Selig- 
keitistundGottesWortbelanget.  .  .  ([bid.  673.) 

t  Hie  certe  nunquam  efficeret  ut  haereticus  evaderem.  (Pal- 
lavicini,  i.  115) 

t  Wie  geht's  ?  man  sagt  sie  wollen  euch  verbrennen .  . . 
(L.Opp.  (L.)  xvii.583.) 


On  the  other  hand,  Luther's  enemies  were  all  con- 
fidence. "  He  has  begged  for  time,"  said  they  ;  ''  he 
is  going  to  retract.  At  a  distance  his  speech  was  arro- 
gant ; — but  now  his  courage  forsakes  him.  .  .  He  is 
conquered." 

Luther  was  perhaps  the  only  person  at  Worms  per- 
fectly undisturbed.  A  few  minutes  after  his  return 
from  the  Diet,  he  wrote  to  the  counsellor,  Cuspianus : 
"  I  am  writing  to  you  from  the  very  midst  of  a  tempest 
(perhaps  he  alluded  to  the  noise  of  the  crowd  outside 
his  hotel )  An  hour  ago  I  appeared  before  the  Empe- 
ror and  his  brother.* I  avowed  myself  the  au- 
thor of  my  books,  and  I  have  promised  to  give  my  an- 
swer to-morrow,  as  to  recantation.  By  the  help  of 
Jesus  Christ,  I  will  not  retract  a  single  letter  of  ray 
writings."! 

The  commotion  among  the  people  and  the  soldiers 
of  the  states  was  increasing  every  hour.  While  the 
two  parties  were  repairing  calmly  to  the  Diet — the 
people  and  the  soldiers  carne  to  blows  in  the  streets. 
The  Spanish  troops,  proud  and  stern,  gave  great  offence 
by  their  insolence  to  the  burghers  of  the  city.  One  of 
these  satellites  of  Charles,  finding  in  a  bookseller's  shop 
the  Pope's  Bull,  published  with  a  commentary  written 
by  the  knight,  Hiitten,  laid  hands  upon  it,  tore  it  in 
pieces,  and  trampled  it  under  foot.  Others  having  dis- 
covered several  copies  of  Luther's  tract  on  the  Captivity 
of  Babylon,  carried  them  off  and  tore  them  up  The 
common  people,  roused  to  resistance,  fell  upon  the  sol- 
diers, and  compelled  them  to  retire.  Another  time  a 
mounted  Spaniard  pursued,  sword  in  hand,  through  the 
public  streets  of  Worms,  a  German,  who  fled  from  him 
— and  the  people  in  their  fright  made  no  attempt  to 
top  the  pursuer.^ 

Some  politic  persons  thought  they  had  hit  upon  an 
expedient  to  rescue  Luther.  "  Retract,"  said  they, 
"  your  errors  in  doctrine,  but  adhere  to  all  you  have 
said  concerning  the  Pope  and  his  court,  and  you  will 
be  safe."  Aleander  trembled  at  the  suggestion.  But 
Luther,  not  to  be  moved  from  his  purpose,  declared 
that  he  cared  little  for  a  political  reformation,  if  it  were 
not  based  upon  faith. 

On  the  18th  of  April,  Father  Glapio,  the  Chancellor 
Eck,  andAleander,  met  early  in  the  morning  agreeably 
to  orders  from  Charles  V.,  to  settle  the  course  of  pro- 
ceeding with  Luther. 

Luther  composed  his  thoughts.  He  felt  that  tran- 
quillity of  soul,  without  which  man  can  do  nothing  truly 
great.  He  prayed  ; — he  read  the  Word  of  God  ; — he 
glanced  over  his  own  writings,  and  endeavoured  to  give 
a  suitable  form  to  his  answer.  The  thought  that  he 
was  about  to  bear  testimony  for  Jesus  Christ,  and  his 
word  in  the  face  of  the  Emperor,  and  of  the  whole  Em- 
pire, dilated  his  heart  with  joy  !  The  moment  when 
he  was  to  make  his  appearance  was  approaching  He 
drew  near  the  table  on  which  the  volume  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures  lay  open,  placed  his  left  hand  upon  if,  and 
raising  the  other  towards  heaven,  he  vowed  to  adhere 
constantly  to  the  Gospel,  and  to  confess  his  faith  freely, 
even  though  he  should  be  called  to  seal  his  confession 
with  his  blood.  This  done,  he  felt  the  peace  of  his  soul 
increased. 

At  four  o'clock  the  herald  presented  himself,  and 
conducted  Luther  to  the  hall  of  the  Diet.  The  general 
curiosity  was  extreme,  for  the  answer  was  to  be  deci- 
sive. The  Diet  being  engaged  in  deliberation,  Luther 
was  obliged  to  wait  in  the  court,  surrounded  by  a  dense 
crowd,  eagerly  moving  to  and  fro,  and  resembling  a  sea 
of  heads.  For  two  hours,  the  Reformer  was  hemmed 

*  Hac  hora  coram  Cajsare  et  fratre  Romano  constiti.  (L. 
Epp.  i.  537.) 

f  Verum  ego  ne  apicem  quidem  revocabo,     (Ibid.) 
I  Happens  Ref.  Urkunden,  ii.  448. 


LUTHER  AGAIN  BEFORE  THE  DIET— LUTHER'S  SPEECH. 


179 


in  by  the  multitude  pressing  to  see  him.  "  I  was  no 
used,"  said  he,  "  to  such  ways  and  noises."*  To  an 
ordinary  man  this  would  have  been  a  grievous  hinderanc 
to  preparedness  of  mind.  But  Luther  was  walking  with 
God.  His  look  was  serene ;  his  features  unruffled 
The  Eternal  was  placing  him  on  a  rock.  Evening 
began  to  close  in,  and  the  torches  were  lighted  in  the 
hall.  Their  light  gleamed  through  the  ancient  paintec 
glass  to  the  court  beyond,  and  the  whole  scene  wore 
an  aspect  of  more  than  common  solemnity.  At  length 
the  Doctor  was  admitted.  Many  persons  obtained 
admission  with  him,  for  every  one  was  desirous  to  hear 
his  answer.  The  Princes  having  taken  their  seats,  and 
Luther  being  again  in  presence  of  Charles  V.,  the 
Chancellor  of  the  Elector  of  Treves  broke  silence,  and 
said: 

"  Martin  Luther,  you  requested  yesterday  a  defray, 
which  is  now  expired.  Certainly  the  Diet  was  not 
bound  in  justice  to  accede  to  your  desire,  since  every 
man  should  be  so  grounded  in  his  faith  as  to  be  able  at 
all  times  to  give  an  answer  to  those  who  ask  him  ;  much 
more  one  who  is  an  eminent  and  learned  doctor  in  the 
Scriptures  ....  Now,  therefore,  answer  the  enquiry  of 
his  Majesty,  who  has  manifested  so  much  indulgence. 
Are  you  prepared  to  defend  all  that  your  writings  con- 
tain, or  do  you  wish  to  retract  any  part  of  them  1" 

After  having  spoken  these  words,  the  Chancellor 
repeated  them  in  German. 

"Hereupon,"  say  the  Acts  of  Worms,  "Doctor 
Martin  Luther  made  answer  in  a  low  and  humble  tone, 
without  any  vehemence  or  violence,  but  with  gentleness 
and  mildness,  and  in  a  manner  full  of  respect  and 
diffidence,  yet  with  much  joy  and  Christian  firmness."! 

"  Most  Serene  Emperor,  and  you,  illustrious  Princes 
and  gracious  Lords,"  said  Luther,  turning  toward 
Charles,  and  looking  round  the  assembly  ;  "  I  this  day 
appear  before  you  in  all  humility,  according  to  your 
command,  and  I  implore  your  Majesty,  and  your  au- 
gust Highnesses,  by  the  mercies  of  God,  to  listen 
with  favour  to  the  defence  of  a  cause  which  I  am  well 
assured  is  just  and  right.  I  ask  pardon,  if  by  reason 
of  my  ignorance,  I  am  wanting  in  the  manners  that 
befit  a  court ;  for  I  have  not  been  brought  up  in  king's 
palaces — but  in  the  seclusion  of  a  cloister. 

"  Two  questions  were  yesterday  put  to  me  by  his 
Imperial  Majesty  ;  the  first,  whether  I  was  the  author  of 
the  books  whose  titles  were  read  :  the  second,  whether 
I  wiohed  to  revoke  or  defend  the  doctrine  I  have 
taught.  I  answered  the  first,  and  I  adhere  to  that 
answer. 

"  As  to  the  second,  I  have  composed  writings  on 
very  different  subjects.  In  some  I  have  discussed 
Faith  and  Good  Works,  in  a  spirit  at  once  so  pure, 
clear,  and  Christian,  that  even  my  adversaries  them- 
selves, far  from  finding  anything  to  censure,  confess 
that  these  writings  are  profitable,  and  deserve  to  be 
perused  by  devout  persons.  The  Pope's  bull,  vio- 
lent as  it  is — ackowledges  this.  What  then  should 
I  be  doing  if  I  were  now  to  retract  these  writings  1 
Wretched  man  !  I  alone,  of  all  men  living,  should 
be  abandoning  truths  approved  by  the  unanimous  voice 
of  friends  and  enemies,  and  opposing  doctrines  that 
the  whole  world  glories  in  confessing. 

"  I  have  composed,  secondly,  certain  works  against 
Popery,  wherein  1  have  attacked  such  as  by  false  doc- 
trines, irregular  lives,  and  scandalous  examples,  afflict 
the  Christian  world,  and  ruin  the  bodies  and  souls  of 
men.  And  is  not  this  confirmed  by  the  grief  of  all 
who  fear  God  ]  Is  it  not  manifest  that  the  laws  and 

*  DCS  Getlimmels  und  Wesens  war  Ich  gar  nicht  gewohnt. 
(L.  Opp.  xvii.  588,  535.) 

t  Schreyt  nicht  sehr  noch  heftig,  sondern  redet  fein,  sittich, 
xiichtig  und  bcscheiden  . .  .  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  576.) 


human  doctrines  of  the  Popes  entangle,  vex,  and  dis- 
tress the  consciences  of  the  faithful,  while  the  crying 
and  endless  extortions  of  Rome  ingulf  the  property 
and  wealth  of  Christendom,  and  more  particularly  of 
this  illustrious  nation  1 

"  If  I  were  to  revoke  what  I  have  written  on  that 
subject,  what  should  I  do  ...  but  strengthen  this 
tyranny,  and  open  a  wider  door  to  so  many  and  flagrant 
impieties'?*  Bearing  down  all  resistance  with  fresh 
fury,  we  should  behold  these  proud  men  swell,  foam, 
and  rage  more  than  ever  1  And  not  merely  would 
the  yoke  which  now  weighs  down  Christians  be  made 
more  grinding  by  my  retraction — it  would  thereby 
become,  so  to  speak,  lawful — for,  by  my  retraction, 
it  would  receive  confirmation  from  your  most  Serene 
Majesty,  and  all  the  States  of  the  Empire.  Great 
God  !  I  should  thus  be  like  to  an  infamous  cloak, 
used  to  hide  and  cover  over  every  kind  of  malice  and 
tyranny. 

"  In  the  third  and  last  place — I  have  written  some 
books  against  private  individuals,  who  had  undertaken 
to  defend  the  tyranny  of  Rome  by  destroying  the 
faith.  I  freely  confess  that  I  may  have  attacked  such 
persons  with  more  violence  than  was  consistent  with 
my  profession  as  an  ecclesiastic  :  I  do  not  think  of  my- 
self as  a  saint ;  but  neither  can  I  retract  these  books, 
because  I  should,  by  so  doing,  sanction  the  impieties 
of  my  opponents  ;  and  they  would  thence  take  occa- 
sion to  crush  God's  people  with  still  more  cruelty. 

"  Yet,  as  I  a-m  a  mere  man,  and  not  God,  I  will 
defend  myself  after  the  example  of  Jesus  Christ,  who 
said  :  '  If  I  have  spoken  evil,  bear  witness  against  me.* 
(John  xviii.  23.)  How  much  more  should  I,  who  am 
but  dust  and  ashes,  and  so  prone  to  error,  desire  that 
every  one  should  bring  forward  what  he  can  against 
my  doctrine. 

'  Therefore,  most  Serene  Emperor,  and  you,  illus- 
trious Princes,  and  all,  whether  high  or  low,  who  hear 
me,  I  implore  you  by  the  mercies  of  God  to  prove  to 
me,  by  the  writings  of  the  prophets  and  apostles,  that  I 
im  in  error.  As  soon  as  I  shall  be  convinced,  I  will 
nstantly  retract  all  my  errors,  and  will  myself  be  the 
irst  to  seize  my  writings,  and  commit  them  to  the 
lames. 

'  What  I  have  just  said  I  think  will  clearly  show, 
that  I  have  well  considered  and  weighed  the  dangers 
to  which  I  am  exposing  myself;  but  far  from  being 
dismayed  by  them,  I  rejoice  exceedingly  to  see  the 
Gospel  this  day,  as  of  old,  a  cause  of  disturbance  and 
disagreement.  It  is  the  character  and  destiny  of  God's 
word.  '  I  came  not  to  send  peace  unto  the  earth,  but 
a  sword,'  said  Jesus  Christ.  God  is  wonderful  and 
awful  in  his  counsels.  Let  us  have  a  care,  lest,  in  our 
endeavours  to  arrest  discords,  we  be  found  to  'fight 
against  the  holy  word  of  God,  and  bring  down  upon 
our  heads  a  frightful  deluge  of  inextricable  dangers, 
)resent  disasters,  and  everlasting  desolations  .... 
Let  us  have  a  care  lest  the  reign  of  the  young  and 
noble  Prince,  the  Emperor  Charles,  on  whom,  next 
,o  God,  we  build  so  many  hopes,  should  not  only  com* 
mence,  but  continue  and  terminate  its  course  under 
he  most  fatal  auspices.  I  might  cite  examples  drawn 
'rom  the  oracles  of  God,"  continued  Luther,  speaking 
with  noble  courage  in  the  presence  of  the  mightiest 
monarch  of  the  world — "  I  might  speak  of  Pharaohs 
— of  kings  of  Babylon,  or  of  Israel,  who  were  never 
more  contributing  to  their  own  ruin,  than  when,  by 
measures  in  appearance  most  prudent,  they  thought  to 
establish  their  authority  !  God  removeth  the  rnoun- 
ains,  and  they  know  not.  (Job  ix.  5.) 
"  In  speaking  thus,  I  do  not  suppose  that  such  noble 

*  Nicht  allein  die  Fenster  sondern  auch  Thur  und  Thor 
aufthate.    (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  573.) 


180 


LUTHER  REPEATS  HIS  SPEECH  IN  LATIN— HIS  CALMNESS. 


Princes  have  need  of  my  poor  judgment ;  but  I  wish 
to  acquit  myself  of  a  duty  that  Germany  has  a  right 
to  expect  from  her  children.  And  so  commending 
myself  to  your  August  Majesty,  and  your  most  Serene 
Highnesses,  I  beseech  you,  in  all  humility,  not  to  per- 
mit the  hatred  of  my  enemies  to  rain  upon  me  an  in- 
dignation I  have  not  deserved."* 

Luther  had  pronounced  these  words  in  German, 
with  modesty,  and  yet  with  much  earnestness  and  re- 
solution ;t  he  was  desired  to  repeat  them  in  Latin  : 
(the  Emperor  was  not  fond  of  German.)  The  splen- 
did assembly  which  surrounded  the  Reformer,  its  noise 
and  excitement  had  exhausted  him.  "  I  was  bathed 
in  sweat,"  said  he  "  and  standing  in  the  centre  of  the 
Princes."  Frederic  of  Thun,  confidential  counsellor 
of  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  who,  by  his  master's  orders, 
had  taken  his  stand  at  the  Reformer's  side,  to  guard 
him  against  surprise  or  violence,  seeing  the  exhaustion 
of  the  poor  monk,  said,  "  If  you  are  not  equal  to  the 
exertion  of  repeating  your  speech,  what  you  have  said 
will  suffice."  But  Luther,  having  taken  a  moment's 
breathing  time,  began  again,  and  repeated  his  address 
in  Latin  with  undiminished  power.t 

"  The  Elector  was  quite  pleased  with  that,"  said 
the  Reformer,  when  relating  the  circumstance. 

As  soon  as  he  stopped  speaking,  the  Chancellor  of 
Treves,  spokesman  of  the  Diet,  said,  angrily  : — 

"  You  have  not  given  any  answer  to  the  inquiry  put 
to  you.  You  are  riot  to  question  the  decisions  of  the 
Councils — you  are  required  to  return  a  clear  and  dis- 
tinct answer.  Will  you,  or  will  you  not,  retract  1" 
Luther  then  answered,  unhesitatingly  :  "  Since  your 
most  Serene  Majesty  and  your  High  Mightinesses  re- 
quire of  me  a  simple,  clear;  and  direct  answer,  I  will 
give  one,§  and  it  is  this  :  I  cannot  submit  my  faith 
either  to  the  Pope  or  to  the  Councils — because  it  is  as 
clear  as  noon-day  that  they  have  often  fallen  into  error, 
and  even  into  glaring  inconsistency  with  themselves. 
If  then  I  am  not  convinced  by  proof  from  Holy  Scrip- 
ture, or  by  cogent  reasons  ;  if  I  am  not  satisfied  by  the 
very  texts  that  I  have  cited  ;  and  if  my  judgment  is  not 
in  this  way  brought  into  subjection  to  God's  word,  I 
neither  can  nor  will  retract  anything  :  for  it  cannot  be 
right  for  a  Christian  to  speak  against  his  conscience." 
Then  turning  a  look  on  that  assembly  before  whom  he 
stood,  and  which  held  in  its  hands  his  life  or  death  : 
"  I  stand  here,  and  can  say  no  more  :  God  help  me. 
Amen. "|| 

Thus  did  Luther,  constrained  to  act  upon  his  Faith, 
led  by  his  conscience  to  the  surrender  of  his  life, 
bound  by  the  noblest  of  all  necessity — the  servant  of 
the  truth  he  believed,  and  in  that  service  most  free ; 
like  a  vessel  freighted  with  treasure  more  precious  than 
itself,  that  the  pilot  runs  upon  the  rocks  ;  pronounce 
the  sublime  words  that  at  the  distance  of  three  centu- 
ries still  make  our  hearts  bound  within  us.  Thus 
spake,  in  presence  of  the  Emperor,  and  the  chiefs  of 
the  nation,  a  single  monk  !  "and  that  weak  and  poor 
man  standing  alone,  but  depending  on  the  grace  of  the 
Most  High,  shone  forth  grander  and  mightier  than  them 
all.  His  words  came  with  a  power  against  which  the 
great  of  this  world  could  do  nothing.  This  is  that 
weakness  of  God  which  is  stronger  than  men.  The 
Empire  and  the  Church  on  the  one  hand — an  obscure 
individual  on  the  other,  have  looked  upon  each  other  ! 

*  This  speech,  as  well  as  most  of  the  documents  we  cite,  are 
taken  word  for  word  from  authentic  doccuments.  (See  L. 
Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  776—780.) 

t  Non  clamose  at  modeste,  non  tamen  sine  Christiana  ani- 
mositate  et  constantia.     (Ibid.  165.) 
See  L.  Opp.  lat.  ii.  165—167. 

Dabo  illud  neque  dentatum,  neque  cornutum.   'Ibid.  166.) 
ii  Hier  stehe  ich  ;  Ich  kan  nicht  anders ;  Gott  helfe  mir  ! 
Amen.    (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  530.) 


God  had  gathered  together  these  kings  and  prelates, 
to  bring  publicly  to  naught  their  wisdom.  The  battle 
is  lost  ;  and  the  consequences  of  this  defeat  of  the 
powers  of  this  world  will  be  felt  among  all  nations, 
and  in  all  ages  to  come. 

The  assembly  was  motionless  with  astonishment. 
Several  of  the  princes  present  could  scarcely  conceal 
their  admiration.  The  emperor,  recovering  from  first 
impressions,  exclaimed  ;  "  The  monk  speaks  with  an 
intrepid  heart  and  unshaken  courage."*  The  Spaniards 
and  Italians  alone  were  confounded,  and  soon  began 
to  ridicule  a  moral  grandeur,  which  they  could  not 
comprehend. 

"  If  you  do  not  retract,"  resumed  the  Chancellor,  as 
soon  as  the  assembly  had  recovered  from  the  impres- 
sion produced  by  Luther's  speech — "  the  emperor  and 
the  States  of  the  Empire  will  proceed  to  consider  how 
to  deal  with  an  obstinate  heretic."  At  these  words 
Luther's  friends  trembled — but  the  monk  repeated  : 
"  May  God  be  my  helper !  for  I  can  retract  nothing."t 

This  said,  Luther  withdrew,  and  the  princes  deli- 
berated. Every  one  saw  clearly  that  the  moment  was 
critical  for  Christendom.  On  the  yea  or  nay  of  this 
monk,  perhaps,  depended  the  repose  of  the  Church  and 
of  the  world  for  ages  to  come.  In  the  desire  to  over- 
awe him,  he  had  been  raised  on  a  platform,  in  sight  of 
a  whole  nation  ;  the  attempt  to  give  publicity  to  his 
defeat  had  only  served  to  enhance  his  victory  over  his 
enemies.  The  partisans  of  Rome  could  not  patiently 
submit  to  this  humiliation.  Luther  was  again  called 
in,  and  the  speaker  thus  addressed  him : — "  Martin, 
you  have  not  spoken  with  that  humility  which  befits 
your  condition.  The  distinction  you  have  drawn  as 
to  your  works  was  needless,  for  if  you  retracted  such 
as  contain  errors,  the  emperor  would  not  allow  the  rest 
to  be  burned.  It  is  absurd  to  require  to  be  refuted  by 
Scripture,  when  you  are  reviving  heresies  condemned 
by  the  general  Council  of  Constance.  The  emperor, 
therefore,  commands  you  to  say,  simply,  yes  or  no  ; 
whether  you  mean  to  affirm  what  you  have  advanced, 
or  whether  you  desire  to  retract  any  part  thereof." — 
"  I  have  no  other  answer  to  give  than  that  I  have  al- 
ready given,"  said  Luther,  quietly.  They  understood 
him. — Firm  as  a  rock — the  billows  of  the  powers  of 
the  world  had  broken  harmlessly  at  his  feet.  The  sim- 
ple energy  of  his  words,  his  erect  countenance,  the 
glance  of  his  eye,  the  inflexible  firmness  that  might  be 
traced  in  his  rude  German  features,  had  indeed  left  a 
deep  impression  on  the  assembly.  All  hope  of  quel- 
ling his  spirit  had  vanished.  The  Spaniards,  the  Bel- 
gians, and  even  the  Italians  were  silent.  The  monk 
had  triumphed  over  these  powers  of  this  world.  He 
had  said.TVb  /  to  the  Church  and  to  the  Empire.  Charles 
the  Fifth  arose  from  his  seat,  and  the  whole  assembly 
rose  at  the  same  instant.  "  The  Diet  will  meet  again 
to-morrow  morning  to  hear  the  emperor's  decision," 
said  the  Chancellor,  aloud. 

It  was  night : — each  repaired  home  in  the  dark. 
Two  of  the  Imperial  officers  were  appointed  to  ac- 
company Luther.  Some  persons  took  it  into  their 
heads  that  his  doom  had  been  decided,  that  they  were 
conducting  him  to  prison,  which  he  would  only  leave 
to  mount  the  scaffold.  Then  a  tumult  spread.  Seve- 
ral gentlemen  demanded,  aloud  :  "  Are  they  leading 
him  to  prison1!"  "No  !"  answed  Luther,  "  they  are 
conducting  me  to  my  hotel."  On  hearing  this,  the 
commotion  subsided.  Then  certain  Spaniards  of  the 
emperor's  household  followed  the  bold  man  through  the 
streets  that  led  to  the  hotel,  with  shouts  and  mockery,:}: 

*  Der  moach  redet  unerschroken,  mit  getrostem  Muth  ! 
(Seckendorf,  p.  350.)  f  L.  Opp.  (W.)  xv.  2235. 

t  Subsannationc  hominem  Die  et  longo  rugitu,  prosecuti 
sunt.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  ii  166.) 


DUKE  ERIC'S  OFFERING -THE  EMPEROR'S  MESSAGE 


181 


while  others  poured  forth  the  cries  of  a  wild  beast  be- 
reft of  his  prey.  But  Luther  maintained  his  firmness 
and  assurance. 

Such  was  the  scene  of  Worms.  The  intrepid  monk, 
who  had  hitherto  boldly  braved  all  his  enemies,  spoke, 
on  that  occasion,  to  those  who  thirsted  for  his  blood, 
with  calm  dignity  and  humility.  With  no  exaggera- 
tion, no  enthusiasm  of  the  flesh,  no  irascibility  ;  he  was 
in  peace  in  the  liveliest  emotion  ;  unpresumptuous, 
though  withstanding  the  powers  of  this  world,  and  full  of 
grandeur  in  presence  of  the  great  ones  of  the  earth. 
Behold  an  indubitable  sign  that  Luther  was  then  acting 
in  obedience  to  God,  and  not  the  suggestions  of  his 
own  pride.  In  the  hall  at  Worms  was  one  greater 
than  Luther,  or  than  Charles.  "  When  ye  shall  be 
brought  before  governors  and  kings  for  my  sake,  take 
no  thought  how  or  what  ye  shall  speak,  for  it  shall  be 

fiven  you,  in  that  same  hour,  what  ye  shall  speak. 
or  it  is  not  ye  that  speak,  but  the  Spirit  of  your  Fa- 
ther which  speaketh  in  you."*  Never,  perhaps,  has 
this  promise  been  more  signally  fulfilled. 

A  powerful  impression  had  been  produced  on  the 
chiefs  of  the  empire.  Luther  had  remarked  this  ;  arid 
it  had  given  him  new  courage.  The  pope's  adherents 
were  provoked,  because  Eck  had  not  earlier  interrupt- 
ed the  speech  of  the  guilty  monk.  Several  princes 
and  lords  were  won  over  to  his  cause  by  the  tone  of 
deep  conviction  with  which  he  had  defended  it.  It  is 
true,  with  some  the  effect  was  transient ;  but  some, 
who  then  concealed  their  thoughts,  at  a  later  period, 
declared  themselves  with  great  boldness. 

Luther  had  returned  to  his  hotel,  and  was  seeking 
in  repose  to  recruit  his  strength,  exhausted  in  the  stern 
and  trying  events  of  the  day.  Spalatin,  and  others  of 
his  friends,  surrounded  him,  giving  thanks  to  God.  As 
they  were  discoursing*  a  servant  entered  bearing  a  sil- 
ver vase,  filled  with  Eimbek  beer.  "  My  master,"  said 
he,  as  he  offered  it  to  Luther,  "  desires  you  to  refresh 
yourself  with  this  beverage."  "  What  prince  is  it," 
said  the  Wittemberg  Doctor,  "  who  has  me  in  such 
gracious  remembrance1?"  It  was  the  aged  Duke  Eric, 
of  Brunswick.  The  Reformer  was  moved  by  this  of- 
fering from  a  powerful  lord  belonging  to  the  pope's 
party.  "  His  Highness  himself,"  continued  the  mes- 
senger, "  drank  of  the  cup  before  sending  it  to  you," 
Hereupon  Luther,  being  thirsty,  poured  out  some  of 
the  Duke's  beer,  and,  after  having  drunk,  he  said  : 
"  As,  on  this  day,  Duko  Eric  has  remembred  me,  may 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  remember  him  in  the  hour  of 
his  last  struggle."!  The  gift  was  a  trifling  one  ;  but 
Luther,  desiring  to  show  his  gratitude  to  a  prince  who 
thought  of  him  at  such  a  moment,  gave  him  of  such  as 
he  had — a  prayer !  The  servant  bore  his  message  to 
his  master.  The  aged  duke  called  to  mind  these  words 
at  the  moment  of  his  death,  and,  addressing  a  young 
page,  Francis  Kram,  who  was  standing  at  his  bedside  : 
— "  Take  the  Bible,"  said  he,  "  and  read  to  me."  The 
youth  read  the  words  of  Christ,  and  the  soul  of  the 
dying  man  took  comfort.  "  Whosoever  shall  give  you 
a  cup  of  water  to  drink  in  my  name,  because  ye  belong 
to  Christ"  said  the  Saviour,  "verily,  I  say  unto  you, 
he  shall  not  lose  his  reward." 

The  servant  of  the  Duke  of  Brunswick  had  scarcely 
left  him,  when  a  messenger  from  the  Elector  of  Saxony 
brought  orders  to  Spalatin  to  come  to  him  immediate- 
ly. Frederic  had  attended  the  diet  with  many  appre- 
hensions. He  had  expected  that  Luther's  courage 
would  have  failed  him  in  the  Emperor's  presence. 
Hence  he  had  been  deeply  affected  by  the  Reformer's 
firmness.  He  felt  proud  of  having  taken  such  a  man 

*  Matt.  x.  18,  20. 

t  Also  gendencke  seiner  unser  Herr  Christus  in  seinem  letz- 
ten  Lampff,  ( Seek.  p.  354.) 


under  his  protection.  When  the  chaplain  arrived,  the 
table  was  spread.  The  elector  was  just  sitting  down 
to  supper  with  his  court,  and  already  the  servant  in 
waiting  had  taken  away  the  vase,  in  which  it  was  the 
custom  to  wash  before  eating.  On  seeing  Spalatin 
enter,  Frederic  instantly  made  a  sign  to  him  to  follow 
him  ;  and,  as  soon  as  he  found  himself  alone  with  him 
in  his  bedchamber,  he  said,  with  strong  emotion : 
"  Oh !  how  Luther  spoke  before  the  emperor  and  all 
the  States  of  the  Empire :— all  I  feared  was,  that  he 
might  go  too  far  !"*  From  that  time,  Frederic  formed 
a  resolution  to  protect  the  Doctor  more  openly. 

Aleander  saw  the  effect  that  Luther  had  produced  ; 
there  was  no  time  to  lose.  It  was  necessary  to  urge 
the  young  emperor  to  adopt  vigorous  measures.  The 
moment  was  favourable  ;  a  war  with  France  was  im- 
pending. Leo  X.,  eager  to  aggrandise  his  states,  and 
caring  little  for  the  peace  of  Christendom,  was,  at  the 
same  time,  secretly  negociating  two  treaties — one  with 
Charles,  against  Francis  ;  and  the  other  with  Francis, 
against  Charles,  t  By  the  former,  he  stipulated  with 
the  emperor  for  the  possession  of  Parma,  Placentia, 
and  Ferrara  ;  by  the  latter,  he  claimed  from  the  king 
a  district  of  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  which  should  be 
conquered  from  Charles.  The  latter  felt  the  import- 
ance of  gaining  Leo  to  his  side,  that  he  might  be 
strengthened  by  his  alliance  in  the  war  with  his  rival 
of  France.  The  mighty  pontiffs  friendship  seemed  to 
be  cheaply  purchased  by  the  sacrifice  of  Luther. 

The  day  following  Luther's  appearance  being  Fri- 
day, the  19th  of  April,  the  emperor  caused  to  be  read 
aloud  to  the  Diet,  a  message,  written  in  Flemish,  by 
his  own  hand  :t 

"Descended  from  the  Christian  Emperors  of  Germa- 
ny, from  the  Catholic  Kings  of  Spain,  from  the  Arch- 
dukes of  Austria,  and  Dukes  of  Burgundy,  who  have 
all  distinguished  themselves  as  defenders  of  the  faith 
of  Rome,  I  am  firmly  resolved  to  tread  in  the  footsteps 
of  my  ancestors.  A  single  monk,  led  astray  by  his 
own  madness,  erects  himself  against  the  faith  of  Chris- 
tendom. I  will  sacrifice  my  kingdoms,  my  power, 
my  friends,  my  treasure,  my  body  and  blood,  my 
thoughts  and  my  life,  to  stay  the  further  progress  of 
this  impiety. §  I  am  about  to  dismiss  the  Augustine, 
Luther,  forbidding  him  to  cause  the  least  disturbance 
among  the  people.  I  will  then  take  measures  against 
him,  and  his  adherents,  as  open  heretics,  by  excommu- 
nication, interdict,  and  every  means  necessary  to  their 
destruction.il  I  call  on  the  members  of  the  states  to 
comport  themselves  like  faithful  Christians." 

This  address  was  not  well  received  by  all  to  whom 
it  was  addressed.  Charles,  young  and  hasty,  had  not 
observed  the  customary  form,  which  obliged  him  first 
to  ask  the  opinion  of  the  Diet.  Immediately,  two  di- 
rectly opposite  parties  began  to  show  themselves.  The 
creatures  of  the  pope,  the  elector  of  Brandenburg,  and 
several  dignitaries  of  the  church,  demanded  that  Lu- 
ther's safe-conduct  should  not  be  respected. IT  "His 
ashes  ought  to  be  thrown  into  the  Rhine,"  said  they, 
"  as  was  the  fate  of  John  Huss."  Charles,  if  we  may 
believe  one  historian,  subsequently  repented  bitterly 
that  he  did  not  adopt  this  cowardly  suggestion.  "  I 

*  O  wie  schon  hat  Pater  Martinus  geredet.     (Seek.  p.  355.) 

t  Ouicciardini,  L.  xiv.  175.  DumontCorp  Dipl.  torn.  iv.  96. 
Dicesi  del  papa  Leone,  che  quando  1'aveva  fatto  lega  con  alcu- 
no,  prima  soleva  dir  che  pero  non  si  dovea  restar  de  tretar  cum 
lo  altro  principe  opposto.  (Suriano,  Venetian  Ambassador  at 
Rome,  MS.  Archives  of  Venice.) 

t  Autographum  in  lingua  BurgundicS.  ab  ipsomet  exaratum. 
(Cochlamsjp.  32.) 

(j  Regna,  thesauros,  amicus,  corpus,  sanguinem,  vitam,  spi« 
ritumque  profundere.  (Pallavicini,  i.  113.) 

H  Und  audern  Wegen  sie  zu  vertilgen.  (L.  Opp.  (L  )  xvii. 
581.) 

IT  Dass  Luthero  das  sichere  Geleit  nicht  mochte  gehalten 
werden  (Seckend.  p.  357.) 


182 


THE  SAFE-CONDUCT  IN  DANGER— ENTHUSIASM  FOR  LUTHER. 


acknowledge,"  said  he,  toward  the  close  of  life,  "  that 
I  committed  a  great  mistake,  in  not  punishing  Luther 
with  death.  I  was  not  bound  to  keep  my  promise  ; 
that  heretic  had  offended  a  Master  greater  than  I.  I 
might,  and  I  ought  to,  have  forgotten  my  pledge,  and 
avenged  the  offence  he  committed  against  God.  It  is 
because  I  did  not  have  him  put  to  death,  that  heresy 
has  ever  since  been  spreading.  His  death  would  have 
stifled  it  in  its  cradle."* 

This  frightful  proposal  filled  the  elector  and  all  the 
Reformer's  friends  with  alarm.  "  The  death  of  John 
Huss,"  said  the  elector  palatine,  "  has  brought  too 
many  calmaties  on  Germany,  for  us  to  think  of  again 
erecting  a  like  scaffold."  Even  Duke  George  exclaimed, 
"  The  German  princes  will  not  endure  the  violation  of 
a  safe-conduct.  This  first  Diet,  presided  over  by  our 
new  emperor,  will  not  be  guilty  of  so  shameful  an  ac- 
tion. Such  perfidy  befits  not  the  ancient  good  faith 
of  the  Germans."  The  Bavarian  princes,  though  at- 
tached to  the  Roman  church,  supported  this  protest ; 
and  the  prospect  of  his  death,  that  Luther's  friends  had 
before  them,  gradually  disappeared. 

The  report  of  these  discussions,  which  lasted  for 
two  days,  circulated  in  the  city.  Party  spirit  was 
roused.  Certain  gentlemen,  who  had  espoused  the 
new  opinions,  began  to  speak  their  minds  boldly,  on 
the  act  of  treachery  that  Aleander  solicited.  "The 
emperor,"  said  they,  "  is  young,  and  is  led  away  by 
the  cajoleries  of  papists  and  bishops."!  Pallavicini 
mentions  four  hundred  nobles,  all  ready,  with  their 
swords,  to  enforce  respect  to  Luther's  safe-conduct. 
On  the  morning  of  Saturday,  placards  were  seen  posted 
on  the  doors  of  the  houses,  and  in  the  public  squares, 
some  against  Luther,  and  others  in  his  favour.  In  one 
was  read  the  strong  and  simple  words  of  Ecclesiastes, 
"  Woe  to  thee,  0  land,  when  thy  king  is  a  child  /"  It 
was  rumoured  that  Sickengen  had  assembled,  at  a  dis- 
tance of  a  few  leagues  from  Worms,  within  the  im- 
pregnable walls  of  his  fortress,  a  number  of  knights 
and  soldiers,  and  waited  only  the  issue  of  the  affair, 
to  know  how  to  act.  The  popular  enthusiasm,  not 
merely  in  Worms,  but  even  in  the  remotest  towns  of 
the  empiret — the  intrepid  courage  of  the  knights — 
the  devotion  of  several  princes  to  the  cause  of  the  Re- 
formation— all  together,  gave  clear  intimation  to 
Charles  and  to  the  Diet,  that  the  course  of  proceeding 
urged  by  the  Romanists,  might  place  in  jeopardy  the 
supreme  authority,  give  birth  to  popular  commotions, 
and  endanger  the  very  stability  of  the  empire  itself  $ 
It  was  but  a  question  whether  a  single  monk  should  be 
brought  to  the  stake  ;  but  the  princes  and  partisans  of 
Rome,  could  not  muster,  among  them  aU,  either  the 
strength  or  the  courage  necessary  for  the  act.  Doubt- 
less, also,  Charles  V.,  yet  in  his  youth,  feared  to  in- 
cur the  guilt  of  perjury.  We  might  infer  this  from  a 
saying  which,  if  report  be  true,  he  uttered  at  this 
juncture:  "  Though  honour  and  good  faith  should  be 
banished  from  the  earth,  they  should  find  an  asylum 
in  the  breasts  of  princes."  It  is  a  melancholy  reflec- 
tion, that  he  appears  to  have  forgotten  this  maxim  be- 
fore his  death.  But  the  emperor  may  have  been  actu- 
ated by  other  motives.  The  Florentine,  Vettori,  the 
friend  of  Leo  X.  and  of  Machiavelli  affirms,  that  Charles 

*  Sandoval,  Hist,  de  Carlos  V.,  quoted  by  Llorente  in  his 
History  of  the  Inquisition,  ii.  27.  According  to  Llorente,  the 
supposition  that  Charles,  toward  the  end  of  liis  life,  leaned  to 
evangelical  opinions,  is  an  invention  of  the  Protestants,  and 
of  the  enemies  of  Philip  II.  The  question  is  a  problem  in  his- 
tory, which  the  numerous  citations  of  Llorente  seem,  unhap 
pily,  to  solve  conformably  to  his  statement. 

t  Eum  esse  puerum,  qui  nutu  et  blanditiis  Papistarura  et 
Episcoporum  trahaturquocunque  velint.  (Cochlseus,  p.  33.) 

\  Verum  etiam  in  longinquis  Germanise  civitatibus,  motus 
et  murmura  plebium.  (Ibid.) 

§  Es  ware  ein  Aufruhr  daraua  worden,  says  Luther. 


spared  Luther,  that  he  might  hold  the  pope  in  check.* 
— In  the  sitting  of  Saturday,  the  violent  propositions 
of  Aleander  were  rejected.  Luther  was  the  object  of 
much  affection,  and  a  desire  was  general  to  rescue 
this  simple  man,  whose  confidence  in  God  was  so  af- 
ecting ;  but  it  was  wished,  at  the  same  time,  to  save 
the  church  Men  trembled  at  the  foreseen  conse- 
quences of  either  the  triumph  or  the  punishment  of 
the  Reformer.  Plans  of  conciliation  were  started,  and 
it  was  proposed  to  make  a  new  effort  with  the  Doctor 
of  Wittemberg.  The  Archbishop,  Elector  of  Mentz 
himself,  the  young  and  prodigal  Albert,  "  more  devout 
than  bold,"  says  Pallavicini,t  had  caught  the  alarm,  at 
witnessing  the  interest  evinced  by  the  people  and  the 
nobility  in  the  fate  of  the  monk  of  Saxony.  His  chap- 
lain, Capito,  who,  during  his  residence  at  Bale,  had 
contracted  acquaintance  with  the  evangelical  priest  of 
Zurich,  Zwingle,  a  courageous  confessor  of  the  truth, 
of  whom  we  have  before  had  occasion  to  speak,  there 
can  be  little  doubt,  also  represented  to  Albert  the  jus- 
tice of  the  Reformer's  cause.  The  wordly  archbishop  ex- 
perienced one  of  those  transient  recurrences  of  Chris- 
tian feelings  which  we  sometimes  trace  in  the  lives  of 
men,  and  consented  to  wait  on  the  emperor,  and  re- 
quest him  to  give  time  for  a  fresh  attempt.  But  Charles 
would  not  hear  of  anything  of  the  kind.  On  Monday, 
the  22d  of  April,  the  princes  came  in  a  body  to  repeat 
the  request  of  Albert.  "  I  will  not  go  from  what  I 
have  laid  down,"  replied  the  emperor.  "  I  will  author- 
ise no  one  to  have  any  official  communication  with 
Luther.  But,"  added  he,  (much  to  the  indignation  of 
Aleander,)  "  I  will  allow  that  man  three  days  consi- 
deration, during  which  time  any  one  may  exhort  him 
privately,  as  he  may  think  fit."|  It  was  all  his  friends 
asked.  The  Reformer,  thought  they,  elevated  by  the 
solemnity  of  his  public  trial,  would  perhaps  give  way 
in  more  friendly  conference,  and  by  this  means,  it 
might  be  possible  to  save  him  from  the  gulf  that 
yawned  before  him, 

The  Elector  of  Saxony  knew  the  very  contrary  : 
hence  he  was  full  of  anxiety.  "  If  it  were  in  my 
power,"  he  wrote  on  the  next  day,  to  his  brother,  Duke 
John,  "I  would  be  ready  to  undertake  the  defence  of 
Luther.  You  can  hardly  imagine  how  I  am  beset  by 
the  partisans  of  Rome.  If  I  were  to  tell  you  all,  you 
would  hear  strange  things. $  They  are  bent  upon  his 
ruin  ;  and  if  any  one  evinces  the  least  interest  in  his 
safety,  he  is  instantly  cried  down  as  a  heretic.  May 
God,  who  forsaketh  not  the  cause  of  the  righteous, 
bring  the  struggle  to  a  happy  issue"  Frederic,  with- 
out betraying  his  warm  affection  for  the  Reformer,  con- 
tented himself  with  keeping  a  constant  eye  upon  all 
his  movements. 

Not  so  men  of  all  ranks  at  Worms.  Their  sympa- 
thy broke  forth  without  fear  or  disguise.  On  the  Fri- 
day, a  train  of  princes,  counts,  barons,  knights,  gen- 
tlemen, ecclesiastics,  laity,  and  common  people,  sur- 
round the  Reformer's  lodging,  entering  and  departing, 
as  if  never  satisfied  with  gazing  on  him.)|  He  was 
become  the  man  of  Germany.  Even  those  who  did 
not  question  his  being  in  error,  were  affected  by  the 
nobility  of  soul  which  led  him  to  peril  his  life  at  the 
call  of  his  conscience. 

Luther  had  the  happiness  of  holding,  with  many  per- 

*  Carlo  si  excuso  di  non  poter  procedere  piu  oltre,  rispetlo 
al  salvocondotto,  ma  la  verita  fu  che  conoscendo  che  il  Papa 
temeva  molto  di  questa  doctrina  di  Luthero,  lo  voile  tenere 
con  questo  freno.  (Vettori,  Istoria  d'ltalia  MSC.  Biblioth. 
Corsini  at  Rome,  extracted  by  Ranke  ) 

f  Qui  pio  magis  animo  eret  quam  forti.   (Pallavicini,  p.  118.) 

|  Quibus  privatim  exhortari  hominem  possent.  (Pallavici- 
ni. i.  119.) 

\  Wander  horen  werden.    (Seckend.  365.) 

!j  Und  konnten  nicht  salt  werden  ihn  zu  sehen.  (L.  Opp. 
xvii,581.) 


PHILIP  OF  HESSE— CONFERENCE  AT  ARCHBISHOP  OF  TREVES. 


183 


sons  at  Worms,  and  those  some  of  the  most  intelli 
gent  of  the  nation,  conversations  abounding  in  that 
salt  with  which  all  his  words  were  seasoned.  All,  on 
leaving  him,  carryed  away  a  sentiment  of  generous  en- 
thusiasm for  truth.  "  How  many  things  have  I  to 
tell  you,"  wrote  George  Vogler,  private  secretary  to 
the  margrave,  Casimir  Von  Brandenburg.  "  What 
conversations,  overflowing  with  piety  and  kindness, 
Luther  has  had  with  rne  and  others.  0  !  how  rich  in 
grace  is  that  man  !"* 

One  day,  a  young  prince,  of  seventeen  years  of  age, 
galloped  into  the  court  of  the  inn.  It  was  Philip,  who 
for  two  years  had  governed  Hesse.  The  young  land- 
grave was  of  decided  and  enterprising  character  ;  wise 
above  his  years,  warlike,  impetuous,  and  little  accus- 
tomed to  be  guided  by  anything  but  his  own  will. 
Struck  by  Luther's  speech,  he  wished  to  have  a  nearer 
view  of  him.  "  He,  however,  was  not  on  my  side  in 
the  matter,"t  said  Luther,  in  relating  it.  He  threw 
himself  from  his  horse,  ran  up  the  stairs,  without  ce- 
remony, to  Luther's  apartment,  and,  addressing  him, 
said  :  "  Well,  Doctor,  how  are  you  going  on  ?"  "  My 
noble  lord,"  answered  Luther,  "  I  think  all  will  end 
well."  "  I  hear," replied  the  landgrave,  laughing,  "that 
you,  Doctor,  teach  that  a  woman  may  leave  her  hus- 
band and  take  another,  when  the  first  is  proved  to  be 
too  old."  The  courtiers  of  the  imperial  court  had  in- 
vented this  story.  The  enemies  of  truth  never  fail  to 
circulate  inventions,  as  pretended  doctrines  of  Chris- 
tian teachers.  "  No,  my  lord,"  replied  Luther,  with 
gravity,  "  do  not  talk  thus,  I  beg  of  your  Highness." 
On  this,  the  prince  thrust  out  his  hand  to  the  doctor, 
cordially  grasping  Luther's,  with  the  words  :  "  Dear 
Doctor,  if  you  are  in  the  right,  may  God  be  your  help- 
er !"  and  then,  leaving  the  room,  jumped  into  his  sad- 
dle, and  rode  off.  It  was  the  first  interview  of  these 
two  men,  who  were  destined  subsequently  to  stand  in 
the  van  of  the  Reformation,  defending  it — the  one  by 
the  sword  of  the  Word,  and  the  other  by  that  of  kingly 
power. 

The  Archbishop  of  Treves,  Richard  von  Greiffenk- 
lau,  by  permission  of  Charles,  had  undertaken  the 
office  of  mediator.  Richard,  who  was  intimate  with 
the  Elector  of  Saxony,  and  a  staunch  Roman  Catholic, 
wished,  by  acommodating  this  affair,  to  render  a  service 
to  his  friend  as  well  as  to  the  Church.  In  the  even- 
ing of  Monday,  22d  April,  just  as  Luther  was  sitting 
down  to  table,  a  messenger  from  this  prelate  brought 
him  word  that  the  Archbishop  wished  to  see  him  on 
the  day  after  the  morrow,  Wednesday,  at  six  in  the 
morning. 

The  chaplain,  attended  by  Sturm,  the  Imperial 
herald,  was  at  Luther's  door  before  six  in  the  morn- 
ing of  that  day.  But  already,  and  as  early  as  four 
o'clock,  Aleander  had  summoned  Cochlaeus  to  his 
side.  The  Nuncio  had  quickly  discerned  in  the  man 
whom  Capito  had  introduced  to  him  a  devoted  instru- 
ment of  the  Roman  Court,  and  one  on  whom  he  could 
rely  as  upon  himself.  Not  being  himself  able  to  at- 
tend the  interview,  Aleander  wished  much  to  have  some 
one  in  place  of  himself.  "  Do  you  go  direct  to  the 
Archbishop  of  Treves,"  said  he  to  the  Dean  of  Frank- 
fort, "  take  no  part  in  the  discussion,  but  merely  pay 
attention  to  all  that  is  said,  so  as  to  be  able  to  bring 
me  an  exact  report.''^  The  Reformer  repaired,  ac- 
companied by  some  of  his  friends,  to  the  Archbishop's 
residence.  He  found  the  Prelate  surrounded  by  the 
Margrave  Joachim  of  Brandenburg,  Duke  George,  of 
Saxony,  the  Bishops  of  Brandenburg  and  Augsburg, 

*  Wie  eineholdselige  Person  erist.  (Meuzel  Magaz.  i.  207.) 
f  War  noch  uich  auf  meiner  Seitc.    (L.  Opp.  xvii.  589.) 
\  Aleander,  mane  hora  quarta  vocaverit  ad  se  Cochlffium, 
jubens  ut . . .  audiret  solum  . . .  (Cochlaeus,  p  36.) 


some  nobles  and  deputies  of  the  free  cities,  and  other 
civilians  and  divines,  among  whom  were  Cochlasus 
and  Jerome  Weche,  chancellor  of  Baden.  The  latter, 
a  learned  civilian,  was  anxious  to  see  a  reformation  of 
general  morals  and  discipline ;  he  went  even  further, 
in  his  wishes.  "  What  we  want,"  said  he,  "  is 
that  the  word  of  God,  so  long  hidden  under  a  bushel, 
should  be  brought  forward  in  all  its  brightness."* 
This  friend  to  conciliation  was  appointed  to  conduct 
the  conference.  Turning  kindly  to  Luther,  he  said, 
"  the  object  in  summoning  you  hither  is  not  to  dispute 
with  you — but  to  urge  upon  you  brotherly  exhortations. 
You  know  how  carefully  Scripture  enjoins  us  to  be- 
ware of  the  '  arrow  that  flieth  by  day,  and  the  destruc- 
tion that  wastethat  noon-day.'  The  adversary  of  the 
human  race  has  impelled  you  to  the  publishing  of 
certain  things  contrary  to  the  faith.  Consider  your 
own  eternal  interest  and  that  of  the  Empire.  Have 
a  care,  lest  those  whom  Christ  hath  redeemed  from 
eternal  death  by  his  blood,  should  by  you  be  led  away 
to  their  everlasting  ruin.  Cease  to  set  up  your  judg- 
ment against  that  of  holy  Councils.  Unless  we  adhere 
to  the  decrees  of  our  fathers,  there  will  be  nothing  but 
confusion  in  the  Church.  The  eminent  Princes  who 
hear  me  are  quite  intent  upon  saving  you  ;  but  if  you 
persist,  the  Emperor  will  banish  you  beyond  the 
empire,!  and  no  part  of  the  world  will  then  be  able  to 
give  you  shelter.  Consider  therefore  the  fate  that 
awaits  you." 

"  Most  serene  Princes,"  answered  Luther,  "  I  thank 
you  for  your  kind  concern,  for  I  am  but  a  poor  man — 
of  too  mean  station  to  look  to  be  advised  by  such 
great  lords  ;"t — and  he  proceeded  to  say,  "  I  have 
not  censured  all  the  Councils,  but  only  the  Council  of 
Constance,  for  their  condemnation  of  John  Huss's 
doctrine :  namely,  that  the  Christian  Church  is  the 
assembly  of  those  who  are  predestinated  to  salvation.^ 
It  condemned  that  article  of  our  faith,  /  believe  in  the 
holy  universal  Church,  and  even  the  word  of  God." 
He  added  :  "  I  am  told  that  my  preaching  gives  occa- 
sion of  stumbling.  I  answer,  that  it  is  impossible  to 
preach  the  Gospel  of  Christ  without  offence.  Why 
then  should  any  such  fear  separate  me  from  the  Lord, 
and  that  divine  word  which  alone  is  truth  1  No,  rather 
will  I  give  up  body,  blood,  and  life  itself!  .  .  ." 

The  Princes  and  Doctors  having  deliberated,  Luther 
was  called  in,  and  Wehe  resumed  with  mildness  : — 
"  We  must  honour  the  powers  that  be,  even  when 
they  err  :  and  sacrifice  much  for  the  sake  of  charity." 
Then  with  more  earnestness  he  added  : — "  Submit  to 
the  judgment  of  the  Emperor,  and  fear  nothing." 

LUTHER.  "  I  consent  with  all  my  heart  to  the 
Emperor,  the  Princes,  and  even  the  humblest  Chris- 
tian's examining  and  judging  of  my  writings,  but  on 
one  single  condition,  namely,  that  they  take  God's 
word  for  their  guide.  Men  have  nothing  to  do,  but  to 
render  obedience  to  that.  My  conscience  is  in  depend- 
ance  upon  that  word,  and  I  am  the  bounden  subject 
of  its  authority."!! 

THE  ELECTOR  OF  BRANDENBURG.  "  If  I  under- 
stand you,  Doctor,  you  will  acknowledge  no  other 
judge  than  the  Holy  Scripture  1" 

LUTHER.  "Yes,  my  lord,  exactly  so — that  is  my 
resolve. "T  On  this  the  Princes  and  Doctors  with- 

*  Bass  das  Wort  Gottes,  welches  so  lange  unter  dem  Schef- 
rel  verborgen  gasteckt,  heller  scheme  .  .  .  (Seckend.  364.) 

j  Und  aus  dem  Reich  verstossen.  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  532. 
Sleidari,  i.  97.) 

J  Agnosco  enim  me  homuncioneir.,  longe  viliorem  esse, 
quam  ut  a  tantis  Principibus  ...  (L.  Opp.  lat.  p.  167.) 

§  Ecclesia  Christi  estuniversitasprajdestinatorum.    (Ibid.)  > 

||  Sie  wollten  sein  Gewissen,  das  mit  Gottes  Wort  und  hei 
iger  Schrifft  ebunden  und  gefangen  ware,  nicht  dringen. 
vMath.p.  57.) 

T  Ja  darauf  stehe  Ich.    (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  553.) 


184 


COCHL^EUS'S  PROPOSAL— CONFERENCE  AT  THE  HOTEL, 


drew,  but  the  excellent  Archbishop  of  Treves  was 
still  loath  to  forego  his  undertaking.  "  Come  with 
me,"  said  he  to  Luther,  passing  into  his  private  apart- 
ment, and  at  the  same  time,  he  desired  John  Eck  and 
Cochlaeus  of  the  one  side,  and  Schurff  and  Amsdorff, 
of  the  other  party,  to  follow.  "  Why,"  asked  Eck, 
with  warmth,  "  continually  appeal  to  the  Holy  Scrip- 
ture t — it  is  from  thence  come  all  heresies."  But 
Luther,  says  his  friend  Mathesius,  was  unmoved  as  a 
rock,  backed  by  the  true  rock,  th.e  word  of  the  Lord. 
"  The  Pope,"  said  he,  "  is  no  judge  in  things  pertain- 
ing to  the  word  of  the  Lord.  It  is  the  duty  of  every 
Christian  to  see  and  understand  how  to  live  and  die."* 
They  separated.  The  partisans  of  the  Papacy  felt 
Luther's  superiority,  and  ascribed  it  to  the  circumstance 
of  there  being  no  one  at  hand  capable  of  answering  him. 
"  If  the  Emperor  had  managed  well,"  says  Cochlaeus, 
"  when  he  cited  Luther  to  Worms,  he  would  have 
summoned  theologians  capable  of  refuting  his  errors." 
The  Archbishop  of  Treves  repaired  to  the  Diet,  and 
communicated  the  failure  of  his  negotiation.  The 
surprise  of  the  young  Emperor  was  only  equalled  by 
his  indignation.  "  It  is  high  time,"  said  he,  "  to  put  an 
end  to  this  business."  The  Archbishop,  requesting  a 
delay  of  two  days,  and  all  the  Diet  joining  in  the  re- 
quest, Charles  V.  gave  consent.  Aleander,  losing 
patience,  broke  forth  in  complaints.! 

While  these  things  were  passing  in  the  Diet,  Coch- 
laeus burned  with  desire  to  bear  off  the  victory  denied 
to  prelates  and  kings.  Thongh  he  had  ever  and  anon 
thrown  out  a  word,  in  the  presence  of  the  Archbishop 
of  Treves,  the  injunction  of  Aleander  to  maintain 
silence  had  restrained  him.  He  resolved  to  make 
amends  for  this  restraint,  and  lost  no  time,  after  giving 
the  Pope's  Nuncio  an  account  of  his  mission,  to 
present  himself  at  Luther's  lodging.  Advancing  to 
him  in  a  friendly  manner,  he  expressed  his  regret  at 
the  Emperor's  resolution.  After  they  had  dined  to- 
gether, the  conversation  grew  more  animated.  J  Coch- 
Iseus  urged  Luther  to  retract.  The  latter  shook  his 
head.  Several  persons  who  sat  at  table  could  with 
difficulty  control  their  feelings.  They  expressed  their 
indignation  that  the  Papists,  instead  of  convincing, 
should  seek  to  restrain  the  Reformer  by  force. 
"  Well,"  said  Cochlasus  to  Luther,  growing  impatient 
of  these  reproaches,  "  I  offer  to  dispute  publicly  with 
you  if  you  will  forego  your  safe-conduct. "9  Of  all 
things  what  Luther  most  wished  was  a  public  discus- 
sion. What  was  he  to  do  1  To  throw  aside  his 
safe-conduct  would  be  to  risk  destruction  :  to  decline 
Cochlaeus's  challenge  would  be  casting  doubt  upon  his 
cause.  The  guests  saw  in  this  proposal  an  act  of  perfidy 
planned  with  Aleander,  whom  the  Dean  had  just  left. 
Vollrat  von  Watzdorf  relieved  Luther  from  the  em- 
barrassment of  a  decision.  Warm  in  his  temper,  and 
roused  to  indignation  at  the  thought  of  a  stratagem 
devised  for  delivering  Luther  into  the  hands  of  the 
executioner,||  he  rose  with  great  warmth,  and,  seizing 
the  terrified  priest,  turned  him  out  of  doors ;  and  blood 
might  have  flowed  had  not  the  guests  interposed  be- 
-;  «  tween  the  angry  knight  and  the  trembling  Cochlseus.H 
y.  The  latter  withdrew  in  confusion  from  the  hotel  of  the 
Knights  of  Rhodes.  Doubtless  it  was  nothing  but  the 
warmth  of  argument  that  had  drawn  forth  the  words 
let  slip  by  the  Dean  :  doubtless  there  was  no  design 

*  Ein  Christenmensch  muss  zusehen  und  richten  .  .  [L. 
Epp.  i.  604.) 

t  De  iis  Aleander  acerrime  conquestus  est.  (Pallavicini, 
i.  120.) 

J  Peracto  prandio.     (Gochlffius,  p.  36.) 

^  Und  wollte  mitmir  disputiren,  ich  sollte  allein  das  Geloit 
aufsagen.  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  589.) 

||  Atque  ita  traderat  eum  carnificinae.     (Cochlaeus.  p.  36.) 

fl  Das  Ihm  das  Blut  iiber  den  Kppff  gelaufen  ware,  wo  man 
nicht  gewehret  hatte.  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  589.) 


concocted  with  Aleander  to  draw  Luther  into  the  toils. 
Cochlaeus  denies  it,  and  we  prefer  to  believe  his  as- 
surance. Yet,  true  it  is,  he  had  but  just  quitted  the 
Nuncio  to  present  himself  at  Luther's  lodging 

That  same  evening,  the  Archbishop  of  Treves  as- 
sembled, at  supper,  the  persons  who  had  been  present 
in  the  morning's  conference.  He  sought  thus  to  un- 
bend the  minds  of  the  parties,  and  dispose  them  in  fa- 
vour of  reconciliation.  Luther,  with  all  his  intrepid 
firmness  in  presence  of  arbiters  or  judges,  was  remark- 
able, in  private  intercourse,  for  a  good  nature  and  a 
cheerfulness,  which  gave  ground  to  hope  almost  any- 
thing from  him.  The  Archbishop's  Chancsllor,  who 
had  displayed  so  much  stiffness  in  his  official  bearing, 
concurred  in  this  plan,  and,  toward  the  end  of  the  re- 
past, gave  Luther's  health.  The  latter  was  about  to 
return  the  compliment — the  wine  was  poured  out,  and, 
according  to  his  custom,  he  had  made  the  sign  of  the 
cross  on  his  glass  ;  when,  all  of  a  sudden,  the  glass 
burst  in  his  hands,  and  the  wine  was  spilt  upon  the 
table.  The  guests  were  thunderstruck.  Some  of 
Luther's  friends  exclaimed,  "  It  must  have  been  poi- 
soned,"* but  the  Doctor,  without  discomposure,  an- 
swered, with  a  smile — "  Dear  friends,  either  this  wine 
was  not  destined  for  me,  or  it  would  have  disagreed 
with  me  :"  adding,  calmly — "  No  doubt  the  glass  has 
flown,  because,  in  washing,  it  was  plunged  too  suddenly 
in  cold  water."  These  simple  words  have  something 
of  grandeur  about  them,  in  his  circumstances,  and 
show  his  unruffled  peace.  We  cannot  hence  infer 
that  the  Romanists  intended  to  poison  Luther,  above 
all,  at  the  table  of  the  Archbishop  of  Treves.  This 
repast  had  no  effect  one  way  or  another.  Neither  hu- 
man applause,  nor  any  fear  of  man,  could  shake  the 
Reformer's  decision.  It  was  from  above  ! 

On  the  morning  of  Thursday,  the  25th  of  April,  the 
Chancellor,  Wehe,  and  Doctor  Peutinger,  of  Augs- 
burg, the  emperor's  counsellor,  who  had  expressed 
much  friendship  for  Luther,  on  occasion  of  his  inter- 
view with  De  Vio,  repaired  to  the  hotel  of  "  the  Knights 
of  Rhodes."  The  Elector  of  Saxony  sent  Frederic 
Von  Thun,  and  another  of  his  council,  to  be  present 
at  the  conference.  "  Rely  upon  us,"  said  Wehe  and 
Peutinger,  earnestly  desirous,  at  any  sacrifice,  to  pre- 
vent the  schism  which  was  on  the  point  of  dividing  the 
Church — "  this  business  shall  be  concluded  in  a  Chris- 
tian spirit ;  take  our  word  for  it."  "  I  answer  at  once," 
said  Luther ;  "  I  consent  to  forego  my  safe-conduct,! 
and  resign  my  person  and  my  life  to  the  emperor's  dis- 
posal ;  but,  as  to  the  word  of  God  .  .  .  Never  !" 
Frederic  Von  Thun,  in  strong  emotion,  stood  up,  and 
addressing  the  two  envoys,  said,  "Is  not  that  enough  1 
Is  not  such  a  sacrifice  sufficient  ?"  And  then  protest- 
ing he  would  hear  no  more,  he  withdrew.  On  this, 
Wehe  and  Peutinger,  hoping  to  succeed  better  with 
the  Doctor  himself,  seated  themselves  at  his  side. 
"  Submit  to  the  Diet,"  said  they  to  him.  "  No,"  an- 
swered Luther,  "  for  it  is  written,  « Cursed  is  he  who 
trusteth  in  man.'  "  (Jeremiah  xvii.)  Wehe  and  Peu- 
tinger redoubled  their  exhortations  and  instances — 
pressing  the  Reformer  more  and  more  closely  : — Lu- 
ther, worn  out,  arose,  and  made  sign  to  them  to  retire, 
saying  :  "I  will  allow  no  man  to  exalt  himself  above 
God's  word."t — "  Think  better  of  it,"  said  they,  as 
they  withdrew ;  "  we  will  call  upon  you  again  in  the 
afternoon." 

*  Es  miisse  Gift  darinnen  gewesen  seyn. — Luther  does  not 
mention  this  circumstance,  but  his  friend,  Razeberg,  physi- 
cian to  the  Elector.  John  Frederic,  records  it  in  a  manuscript 
history,  ibund  in  the  library  of  Gothe,  and  says  he  received  it 
from  an  eye-witness. 

f  Er  wollte  ehe  das  Geleit'aufsagen  .  .  .  (L,  Opp.  (L.)  xvii. 

\  Er  wollte  kurtzrum  Menschen  iiber  Gottes  Wort  nicht 
erkennon,  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii.  583.) 


END  OF  THE  NEGOTIATIONS— LUTHER  ORDERED  TO  QUIT  WORMS. 


185 


They  came  according  to  appointment ;  but  aware 
that  Luther  would  not  yield  the  point,  they  brought 
with  them  a  new  proposal.  Luther  has  declined  to 
acknowledge  the  Pope,  the  Emperor,  and  the  Diet, 
there  was  yet  an  authority  which  he  himself  had  for- 
merly invoked  ;  a  General  Council.  Doubtless,  such 
a  suggestion  would  call  forth  the  anger  of  Rome,  but 
it  was  a  last  plank.  The  delegates,  therefore,  proposed 
to  Luther  an  appeal  to  a  Council.  He  had  only  to  ac- 
cede to  the  offer  without  entering  into  points  of  detail. 
Years  must  elapse  before  the  difficulties  the  Pope  would 
interpose  in  the  way  of  a  Council  could  be  removed. 
A  gain  of  some  years  was  everything  to  the  Reformation 
and  the  Reformer.  God,  in  the  progress  of  events, 
would  in  that  time  bring  about  great  changes.  But 
Luther  put  right  above  all  things  ;  he  had  no  desire  to 
deliver  himself  at  the  expense  of  the  Truth,  oven  though 
a  silent  dissimulation  of  it  should  be  all  required  of  him. 
"  I  consent — but,"  he  answered,  and  the  condition  in- 
volved an  appeal  from  the  Council  as  judge — "  on  con- 
dition that  the  Council  should  decide  according  to  Holy 
Scripture.1'* 

Peutinger  and  Wehe,  who  had  no  idea  of  a  Council 
deciding  otherwise,  hastened  overjoyed  to  the  Arch- 
bishop. "  Doctor  Martin,"  said  they,  "  will  submit  his 
writings  to  the  judgment  of  a  Council."  The  Arch- 
bishop was  preparing  to  communicate  the  intelligence 
to  the  Emperor,  when  a  doubt  crossed  his  mind ;  he 
sent  for  Luther. 

Richard  Von  Greiffenklau  was  alone  when  the  Doc- 
tor arrived.  "Dear  Doctor,"  said  the  Archbishop, 
with  much  kindness  of  manner,!  "  my  doctors  assure 
me  that  you  consent  to  submit  your  cause  without  re- 
serve to  the  decision  of  a  Council." — "  My  Lord," 
answered  Luther,  "  I  can  endure  anything,  except  to 
abandon  the  Holy  Scripture.  The  Archbishop  saw  at 
once  that  Wehe  and  Peutinger  had  not  fully  explained 
the  facts.  Never  could  Rome  give  her  consent  to  a 
Council  which  should  take  Scripture  alone  for  its  guide. 
"  It  was  requiring,"  says  Pallavicini,  "  that  one  of  weak 
sight  should  read  very  small  writing,  and  at  the  same 
moment  refusing  him  the  use  of  glasses."!  The  good 
Archbishop  sighed.  "  It  was  of  little  use,"  said  he, 
"my  sending  for  you.  What  would  have  been  the 
consequence  if  I  had  gone  direct  to  bear  the  message 
to  the  Emperor!" 

The  unshaken  firmness  and  uprightness  of  Luther 
may  well  astonish  us.  They  will,  however,  be  com- 
prehended and  honoured  by  all  who  know  the  right- 
eousness of  God.  Seldom  has  a  nobler  testimony  been 
borne  to  the  unchangeable  word  of  the  Lord  at  the 
peril  of  the  liberty  and  life  of  the  man  who  thus  bore 
witness. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  venerable  Prelate,  addressing 
Luther,  "  let  me  hear  your  own  remedy  for  the  evil." 

LUTHER  was  silent  for  an  instant.  "My  lord,  I 
know  of  none  but  what  is  found  in  that  word  of  Ga- 
maliel :  '  if  this  work  be  of  men,  it  will  come  to  nought. 
But  if  it  be  of  God,  ye  cannot  overthrow  it,  lest  haply 
ye  be  found  even  to  fight  against  God.'  Let  the  Em- 
peror, the  Electors,  and  the  States  of  the  Empire,  return 
that  answer  to  the  Pope." 

THE  ARCHBISHOP.  "  At  least  retract  some  articles." 

LUTHER.  "  Provided  they  be  not  those  which  the 
Council  of  Constance  has  condemned." 

THE  ARCHBISHOP.  "Alas,  I  fear  it  is  precisely 
those." 

LUTHER.    "Then  far  sooner  tak«  my  life;  rather 

*  Das  daruber  aus  der  heiligen  Schriftt  gesprochen.     (Ibid. 

684.) 

f  Ganz  gut  und  mehr  denn  gnaedig.     (L.  Epp.  i.  604.) 

j   Simulque  conspiciliorum  omnium  usum  negare.      (L. 

Epp.  i.  110.) 

z 


would  I  be  deprived  of  my  limbs,  than  give  up  the  plain 
and  sincere  word  of  God."* 

The  Archbishop  at  length  understood  Luther.  "  Re- 
tire," said  he,  still  in  a  tone  of  much  mildness.  "  My 
lord,"  resumed  Luther,  "  may  I  beg  you  to  request  his 
Majesty  to  send  me  the  safe-conduct  necessary  for  my 
return  whence  I  came." — "  I  will  attend  to  it,"  replied 
the  worthy  Archbishop — and  they  parted. 

Thus  terminated  these  negotiations.  The  attention 
of  the  whole  Empire  had  been  engaged  by  this  man,t 
and  its  urgent  entreaties  and  direful  threats  had  not 
caused  him  to  stumble.  His  erect  bearing  under  the 
iron  hand  of  the  Pope  was  the  means  of  emancipating 
the  Church — and  the  commencement  of  a  new  era. 
The  interposition  of  Providence  was  manifest.  It  was 
one  of  those  grand  scenes  in  history  above  which  the 
majesty  of  God  seemed  to  rise  and  hover.  Lather 
retired  in  company  with  Spalatin,  who  had  joined  them 
during  his  conversation  with  the  Archbishop.  John 
von  Minkwitz,  counsellor  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  had 
been  taken  ill  at  Worms.  The  two  friends  visited  him. 
Luther  comforted  the  sick  man  in  the  tenderest  man- 
ner. "  Farewell,"  said  he,  as  he  left  the  room,  "  to- 
morrow I  leave  Worms." 

Luther  was  not  mistaken.  Scarcely  three  hours  had 
elapsed  from  his  return  to  his  hotel,  when  the  Chan- 
cellor Eck,  attended  by  the  Chancellor  of  the  Empire, 
and  a  notary,  presented  themselves. 

The  Chancellor  addressed  him  as  follows  :— "  Martin 
Luther,  his  Imperial  Majesty,  the  Electors,  Princes, 
and  States  of  the  Empire,  having  repeatedly  and  in 
various  ways — but  in  vain — exhorted  you  to  submission 
— the  Emperor,  in  his  character  of  defender  of  the 
Catholic  faith,  finds  himself  compelled  to  resort  to  other 
measures.  He,  therefore,  orders  you  to  return  to 
whence  you  came,  within  the  space  of  twenty-one  days, 
and  prohibits  you  from  disturbing  the  public  peace  on 
your  journey,  either  by  preaching  or  writing." 

Luther  was  well  aware  that  this  message  was  the 
precursor  of  his  condemnation.  "  It  has  happened 
unto  me,"  answered  he  mildly,  "  according  to  the  will 
of  the  Eternal.  Blessed  be  his  name  !"  He  then  pro- 
ceeded— "  And  first,  I  humbly,  and  from  the  bottom 
of  my  heart,  thank  his  Majesty,  the  Electors,  Princes, 
and  States  of  the  Empire,  that  they  have  given  me  so 
gracious  a  hearing.  I  neither  have,  nor  ever  have  had, 
a  wish  but  for  one  thing  :  to  wit,  a  reformation  of  the 
Church  according  to  the  Holy  Scripture.  I  am  ready 
to  do  or  to  suffer  all  things  for  obedience  to  the  Em- 
peror's will.  Life  or  death,  honour  or  dishonour,  I 
will  bear.  I  make  but  one  reservation — the  preaching 
of  the  Gospel ;  for,  says  St.  Paul,  the  Word  of  God  is 
not  to  be  bound."  The  deputies  retired. 

On  Friday  morning,  the  26th  of  April,  the  Reformer's 
friends  and  several  nobles  assembled  at  Luther's  lodg- 
ings, t  Men  took  delight  in  recognizing  in  the  Chris- 
tian constancy  he  had  opposed  to  Charles  and  to  the 
Empire,  the  features  of  the  celebrated  character  of 
tiquity  : 


Justum  ac  tenacem  propositi  virom, 
Non  civium  ardor  prava  jubentium 

Non  vuitus  instantis  tyranni, 

Mente  quatit  golida  ...  § 


All  were  eager  once  more,  and  perhaps  for  the  last 
time,  to  say  farewell  to  the  intrepid  monk.  Luther 
partook  of  a  simple  repast.  And  now  he  must  bid 

»  Ehe  Stumpf  und  Stiel  fahren  lassen.  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvii. 
584.) 

f  Totum  imperium  ad  se conversum  spectabat.  (Pallavicini, 
i.  120.) 

I  Salutatis  patronis  et  amicis  qui  eum  frcquentissimi  con- 
venerunt.  (L.  Opp.  lat.  ii.  163.) 

§  Horat.  Od.  lib.  3. 


^1 

fa 


186          LUTHER'S  DEPARTURE  FROM  WORMS— THE  CURATE  OF  EISENACH. 


adieu  to  his  friends,  and  depart  far  from  them  under  a 
«ky  overhung  with  storms.  He  resolved  to  spend  this 
•  solemn  moment  in  the  presence  of  God.  He  fortified 
his  soul,  and  gave  his  blessing  to  those  around  him.* 
It  was  ten  o'clock.  Luther  left  the  hotel,  attended 
by  his  friends  who  had  accompanied  him  to  Worms. 
Twenty  gentlemen  on  horseback  surrounded  the  wa- 
gon. A  crowd  accompanied  him  outsido  the  city. 
Sturm,  the  Imperial  herald,  joined  him  shortly  after  at 
Oppenheim,  and  on  the  following  day  the  party  arrived 
at  Frankfort. 

Thus  did  Luther  leave  those  walla  which  seemed 
destined  to  become  hia  tomb.  His  heart  overflowed 
•with  praise  to  God.  "  Satan  himself,"  said  he,  "  kept 
the  Pope's  citadel,  but  Christ  has  made  a  wide  breach 
in  it,  and  the  devil  has  been  compelled  to  confess  that 
Christ  is  mightier  than  he."f 

"  The  day  of  the  Diet  of  Worms,"  says  the  devout 
Mathesius,  the  disciple  and  friend  of  Luther,  "  is  one 
of  the  most  glorious  given  to  the  earth  before  its  great 
catastrophe.''^  The  conflict  at  Worms  resounded  far 
and  near,  and  as  the  report  of  it  traversed  Europe  from 
the  northern  countries  to  the  mountains  of  Switzerland, 
and  the  towns  of  England,  France,  and  Italy,  many 
seized  with  eagerness  the  mighty  weapons  of  the  word 
of  God. 

Arriving  at  Frankfort  on  the  evening  of  Saturday, 
the  27th  of  April,  Luther,  on  the  following  morning, 
took  advantage  of  a  moment  of  leisure,  the  first  he  had 
enjoyed  for  a  long  time  past,  to  despatch  a  short  letter, 
replete  at  once  with  familiarity  and  energy,  to  his  friend, 
Lucas  Cranach,  the  celebrated  painter  at  Wittemberg : 
"  My  service  to  you,  dear  master  Lucas,"  said  he :  ."  I 
sexpected  his  Majesty  would  assemble  fifty  learned  doc- 
tors to  convict  the  monk  outright.  But  not  at  all. 
Are  these  books  of  your  writing  ?  Yes.  Will  you 
retract  them  ?  No  !  Well,  begone !  There's  the 
whole  history.  Deluded  Germans.  .  .  .  how  childishly 
•we  act ! — how  we  are  duped  and  defrauded  by  Rome  ! 
Let  the  Jews  sing  their  Yo  !  Yo !  Yo  !  But  a  pass- 
over  is  coming  for  us  also,  and  then  we  will  sing  halle- 
lujah !§  We  must  keep  silence  and  endure  for  a  short 
time.  '  A  little  while  and  ye  shall  not  see  me,  and 
again  a  little  while  and  ye  shall  see  me,'  said  Jesus 
Christ.  I  trust  I  may  say  the  same.  Farewell. — I 
command  you  all  to  the  Eternal.  May  He  preserve  in 
Christ  your  understanding  and  your  faith,  from  the  at- 
tacks of  the  wolves  and  dragons  of  Rome.  Amen." 

After  writing  this  rather  mysterious  letter,  Luther 
immediately  set  out  for  Friedberg,  six  leagues  from 
Frankfort.  Time,  in  fact,  pressed.  On  the  following 
morning  he  again  collected  his  thoughts,  and  resolved 
once  more  to  address  Charles  the  Fifth.  He  was  un- 
willing to  appear  in  the  light  of  a  guilty  rebel.  In  his 
letter  he  explained  clearly  the  obedience  the  Christian 
owes  to  the  king — and  that  which  is  due  to  God — and 
the  point  at  which  the  former  must  give  place  to  the  lat- 
ter. As  we  read  Luther's  letter,  we  are  involuntarily  re- 
minded of  the  saying  of  the  greatest  autocrat  of  modern 
times  :  "  My  dominion  ends  where  that  of  conscience 
commences."!! 

"  God  is  my  witness,  who  knoweth  the  thoughts," 
said  Luther,  4<  that  I  am  ready  with  all  my  heart  to 

*  Seine  Freunde  gesegnet.     (Mathesius,  p.  27.) 

t  Aber  Christus  macht  eia  Loch  derein.  (L.  Opp.  (L.) 
xvii.  5S9.) 

\  Diss  1st  der  herrlichen  grossest  Tag  einer  vorm  Ende  der 
welt.  (p.  28.) 

t)  Es  miissen  die  Juden  einmal  singen  lo,  lo,  lo  !  ...  (L. 
Epp.  i.  589.)  The  shouts  of  the  Jews  at  the  crucifixion  are 
here  taken  to  represent  the  triumphant  songs  of  the  partisans 
of  Popery  on  the  downfall  of  Luther  ;  but  the  Reformer  hears 
at  a  distance  the  hallelujahs  of  deliverance. 

||  Napoleon  to  the  Protestant  deputies  after  his  accession  to 
the  Empire. 


obey  your  Majesty  through  good  or  evil  report,  in  life 
or  in  death,  with  no  one  exception,  save  the  word  of 
God,  by  which  man  liveth.  In  all  the  affairs  of  this 
life  my  fidelity  shall  be  unshaken,  for,  in  these,  loss  or 
gain  has  nothing  to  do  with  salvation.  But  it  is  con- 
trary to  the  will  of  God,  that  man  should  be  subject  to 
man  in  that  which  pertains  to  eternal  life.  Subjection 
in  spirituals  is  a  real  worship,  and  should  be  rendered 
only  to  the  Creator."* 

Luther  also  wrote  in  German  a  letter  to  the  States. 
It  was  nearly  to  the  same  effect,  and  recapitulated 
what  had  taken  place  at  Worms.  This  letter  was 
several  times  transcribed  and  circulated  throughout  the 
Empire,  exciting  everywhere,  says  Cochlaeus,  the  feel- 
ings of  the  people  against  the  Emperor,  and  the  upper 
ranks  of  the  clergy. t 

Early  the  following  morning,  Luther  wrote  a  note  to 
Spalatin,  enclosing  in  it  the  two  letters  he  had  written 
on  the  previous  evening.  He  sent  back  to  Worms  the 
herald,  Sturm,  who  had  been  gained  to  the  cause  of  the 
Gospel.  Embracing  him,  he  parted  from  him,  and  set 
out  for  Grunberg. 

On  the  Tuesday,  when  he  was  within  two  leagues 
distance  from  Hirschfeld,  he  was  met  by  the  chancel- 
lor to  the  prince-abbot  of  the  city,  who  had  come  out 
to  welcome  him.  Soon  after  appeared  a  troop  of  horse- 
men, headed  by  the  abbot.  The  latter  dismounted, 
Luther  stepped  from  his  wagon.  The  prince  and  the 
Reformer  embraced,  and  entered  Hirschfeld  together. 
The  senate  received  them  at  the  gates.}  Thus,  digni- 
taries of  the  church  opened  their  arms  to  a  monk  whom 
the  pope  had  anathematised,  and  the  higher  classes  did 
honour  to  a  man  whom  the  emperor  had  placed  under 
ban  of  the  empire. 

"  To-morrow  morning,  at  five  o'clock,  we  shall  be 
at  church,"  said  the  prince,  rising  from  the  repast  to 
which  he  had  invited  the  Reformer.  He  insisted  on 
his  occupying  his  own  apartment.  The  following  day 
Luther  preached,  and  the  prince-abbot  and  his  suite  at- 
tended the  sermon. 

In  the  evening  of  that  day  Luther  reached  Eisenach, 
the  scene  of  his  childhood.  All  his  acquaintance  in  the 
place  came  round  him,  and  entreated  him  to  preach ; 
and  the  following  day  they  escorted  him  to  church.  Up- 
on this  the  curate  appeared,  attended  by  a  notary  and 
witnesses.  He  stepped  forward,  trembling  between 
fear  of  losing  his  appointment,  and  of  opposing  the 
energetic  man  before  him.  "  I  must  protest,"  said  he, 
at  last,  with  embarrassment,  "  against  the  liberty  you 
are  about  to  take."  Luther  ascended  the  pulpit,  and 
a  voice  which,  three-and-twenty  years  before  had  sung 
in  the  streets  of  that  same  town  for  a  morsel  of  bread, 
proclaimed  through  the  vaulted  roofs  of  its  venerable 
church,  the  word  which  was  beginning  to  agitate  the 
world.  The  sermon  being  over,  the  curate  stepped  up 
to  Luther.  He  held  in  his  hand  the  record  drawn  up 
by  the  notary,  and  regularly  witnessed,  to  protect  the 
curate  from  dismissal.  "  I  ask  your  pardon,"  said  he, 
aumbly  ;  "  I  take  this  course  from  fear  of  the  tyrants 
that  oppress  the  church.  "§ 

And  truly  there  was  ground  for  apprehension.  Af- 
airs  at  Worms  had  changed  their  aspect,  and  Alean- 
der  reigned  paramount.  "  The  only  prospect  for  Lu- 
ther is  banishment,"  wrote  Frederic  to  his  brother, 
Duke  John,  "  nothing  can  save  him.  If  God  permits 
me  to  see  you  again,  I  shall  have  strange  things  to 

Nam  ea  fides  et  submissio  proprie  est  vera  ilia  latria  et 

adoratio  Dei.  . . .  (L.  Epp.i.  692.) 
|  Per  chalconraphos  multiplicata  et  in  populos  dispersa  est 

;a  epistoia.  .  . .  Caesari  autem  et  clericis  odium  populare,  &c. 

'Cochlaeus,  p.  38.) 

J  Senatus  intra  portas  nos  excepit.    (L.  Epp.  ii.  6.) 
^Humilitertamenexcusante  .  .  ob  metum  tyrannorum  su 

orum.    (L.  Epp.  ii.  6) 


CHARLES  SIGNS  THE  DECREE  AGAINST  LUTHER— THE  EDICT  OF  WORMS.    187 


tell  you.  Not  only  Annas  and  Caiaphas,  but  Pilate 
and  Herod  have  conspired  against  him."  Frederic 
had  no  desire  to  prolong  his  stay,  and,  accordingly 
quitted  Worms,  as  did  the  elector  palatine.  The  Elec- 
tor-Archbishop of  Cologne  also  took  his  departure  from 
the  Diet,  and  the  inferior  princes  followed  the  exam 
pie.  Deeming  it  impossible  to  avert  the  blow,  they 
preferred,  perhaps  unwisely,  to  quit  the  place.  The 
Spaniards,  Italians,  and  the  most  ultra-nionta,ne  of  the 
German  princes,  alone  remained. 

Thus  Aleander  was  master  of  the  field.  He  pre- 
sented to  Charles  a  rough  draught  of  an  edict,  intend- 
to  serve  as  a  model  for  that  the  Diet  was  about  to  pub- 
lish against  the  monk.  The  production  of  the  nuncio 
pleased  the  incensed  emperor.  He  assembled  the 
members  of  the  Diet,  still  at  Worms,  in  his  council- 
chamber,  and  read  to  them  Aleander's  paper,  which,  as 
Pallavicini  informs  us,  was  approved  by  all  pjresent. 

On  the  following  day,  which  was  a  public  festival, 
the  emperor  repaired  to  the  cathedral,  attended  by  the 
nobles  of  his  court.  The  service  being  gone  through, 
a  crowd  of  persons  thronged  the  interior,  when  Alean- 
der, clothed  in  the  insignia  of  his  order,  approached 
Charles.*  He  held  in  his  hand  two  copies  of  the  edict 
against  Luther,  one  in  Latin,  the  other  in  German, 
and,  kneeling  before  his  Imperial  Majesty,  he  peti- 
tioned Charles  to  affix  to  it  his  signature,  and  the  seal 
of  the  empire.  It  was  a:  the  moment  when  sacrifice 
had  just  been  offered,  when  the  incense  filled  the  tem- 
ple, and  the  hymn  was  reverberating  in  the  vaulted 
roofs,  and,  as  it  were,  in  the  immediate  presence  of  God, 
that  the  seal  was  to  be  set  to  the  destruction  of  the 
enemy  of  Rome.  The  emperor,  in  the  most  gracious 
manner,t  took  a  pen,  and  attached  his  signature  to 
the  edict.  Ateander  withdrew  in  triumph,  and  instant- 
ly sent  the  decree  to  the  printer,  and  thence  to  every 
part  of  Christendom. t  This  result  of  Roman  Diplo- 
macy had  cost  no  small  pains  to  the  papacy.  We  learn 
from  Pallavicini  himself,  that  the  edict,  though  dated 
the  8th  of  May,  was  written  and  signed  some  days 
later,  but  ante-dated,  in  order  that  it  might  appear 
sanctioned  by  the  presence  of  the  whole  Diet. 

"  We,  Charles  the  Fifth,"  &c.,  said  the  emperor, 
"  to  the  Electors,  Princes,  Prelates,  and  all  to  whom 
these  presents  shall  come. 

The  Almighty  having  confided  to  us,  for  the  defence 
of  our  holy  faith,  more  extensive  dominion  and  rule 
than  He  hath  given  to  any  of  our  predecessors,  we  pur- 
pose to  employ  all  our  powers  to  preserve  our  holy  em- 
pire from  being  polluted  by  any  heresy. 

"  The  Augustine  monk,  Martin  Luther,  regardless 
of  our  exhortations,  has  madly  attacked  the  holy  church, 
and  attempted  to  destroy  it  by  writings  full  of  blas- 
phemy. He  has  shamefully  villified  the  unalterable 
law  of  holy  marriage ;  he  has  laboured  to  incite  the 
laity  to  imbrue  their  hands  in  the  blood  of  their  priests,$ 
and,  defying  all  authority,  has  incessantly  excited  the 
people  to  revolt,  schism,  war,  murder,  theft,  incendi- 
arism, and  the  utter  destruction  of  the  Christian  faith 
.  .  .  In  a  word,  and  passing  over  many  other  evil  in- 
tentions, this  being,  who  is  no  man,  but  Satan  himself, 
under  the  semblance  of  a  man  in  a  monk's  hood, II  has 
collected,  in  one  offensive  mass,  all  the  worst  heresies 
of  former  ages,  adding  his  own  to  the  number. 

u  We  have,  therefore,  dismissed  from  our  presence 
this  Luther,  whom  all  reasonable  men  count  a  mad- 

•  Cum  Caesar  in  templo  adesset  .  .  .  processit  illi  obviam 
Aleander.  (Pallavicini,  i.  122.) 

t  FestiviRsimo  vultu.    (Pallavicini,  i.  122.) 

J  Et  undique  pervulgata.    (Ibid.) 

§  Ihre  Hande  in  der  Priester  Blut  zu  waschen.  L.  Opp.  (L.) 
xvii.  698. 

||  Nicht  ein  Mensch,  sondern  als  der  bose  Feind  in  Gestalt 
ienes  Menschen  mit  angenommener  Monchiitten  .  .  .  (Ibid.) 


man,  or  possessed  by  the  devil ;  and  it  is  our  inten- 
tion that  so  soon  as  the  term  of  his  safe-conduct  is  ex- 
pired, effectual  measures  be  forthwith  taken  to  put  a 
stop  to  his  fury. 

"  For  this  end,  and  on  pain  of  incurring  the  penalty 
of  treason,  we  hereby  forbid  you  to  receive  the  said 
Luther  from  the  moment  when  the  said  term  is  expired, 
or  to  harbour,  or  to  give  him  meat  or  drink,  or  by  word 
or  act,  publicly  or  in  private,  to  aid  or  abet  him.  We 
further  enjoin  you  to  seize,  or  cause  him  to  be  seized, 
wherever  he  may  be,  and  to  bring  him  before  us  with- 
out delay,  or  hold  him  in  durance  until  you  shall  be 
informed  how  to  deal  with  him,  and  have  received  the 
reward  due  to  your  co-operation  in  this  holy  work. 

"  As  to  his  adherents,  you  are  enjoined  to  seize  upon 
them,  putting  them  down  and  confiscating  their  pro- 
perty. 

"  Touching  his  writings,  seeing  that  the  best  of  food 
is  held  in  horror,  by  all  men,  when  the  least  poison  is 
mixed  therewith,  how  much  more  should  such  writings, 
wherein  the  main  object  is  a  mortal  venom,  be  not 
merely  rejected,  but  destroyed  ?  You  will,  therefore, 
burn,  or  in  other  ways  utterly  destroy  them. 

"As  to  the  authors,  poets,  printers,  painters,  vend- 
ers, or  purchasers,  of  caricatures  or  placards  against 
the  pope  or  the  church,  you  are  enjoined  to  seize  on 
their  persons  and  property,  and  deal  with  them  as  may 
seem  fit. 

"  And  if  any  one,  whatever  may  be  his  rank,  should 
dare  to  act  contrary  to  this  decree  of  our  Imperial 
Majesty,  we  command  that  he  be  placed  under  the 
ban  of  the  empire. 

"  Let  each  one  observe  this  decree." 

Such  was  the  edict  signed  in  the  cathedral  of 
Worms.  It  was  more  than  a  Roman  bull,  which, 
though  issued  in  Italy,  might  not  be  carried  into  cxe- 
ution  in  Germany.  The  emperor  himself  had  spoken> 
and  the  Diet  had  ratified  the  decree.  The  whole  body 
of  Romanists  shouted  for  joy.  "  The  tragedy  is  over," 
exclaimed  they.  "  For  my  part,"  said  Alphonso  Val- 
dez,  a  Spaniard  of  Charles's  court,  "  I  am  persuaded 
"t  is  not  the  last  act,  but  the  beginning."*  Valdez 
clearly  perceived  that  the  movement  was  in  the  church, 
the  people,  the  age  ;  and  that  were  Luther  to  fall,  las 
cause  would  not  perish  with  him.  But  none  could 
iclp  seeing  the  imminent  and  inevitable  danger  in  which 
the  Reformer  was  placed,  and  the  superstitious  mul- 
titude were  impressed  by  a  feeling  of  horror  at  the 
hought  of  that  incarnate  Satan,  whom  the  emperor 
pointed  to  as  clothed  with  a  monk's  habit. 

The  man  against  whom  the  mighty  ones  of  this  earth 
were  thus  forging  their  thunderbolts — on  leaving  the 
aulpit  of  Eisenach,  endeavoured  to  muster  resolution 
,o  take  leave  of  some  of  his  dearest  friends.  He  de- 
cided not  to  take  the  road  to  Gotha  and  Erfurth.  but  to 
jroceed  by  way  of  the  village  of  Mora,  the  birth-place 
of  his  father,  in  order  once  more  to  see  his  grandmo- 
ther  (who  died  four  months  afterward,)  and  to  visit  his 
uncle,  Henry  Luther,  and  some  other  relations, 
Schurff,  Jonas,  and  Suaven  set  out  for  Wittembergj 
Luther  entered  his  wagon,  accompanied  by  Amsdorifj 
and  plunged  into  the  forest  of  Thuringen.t 

That  same  evening  Jie  arrived  in  the  village  of  his 
athers.  The  aged  peasant  pressed  to  her  heart  that 
rrandson  who  had  dared  to  confront  the  emperor  and 
,he  pope.  Luther  passed  the  following  day  with  his 
relations,  joyfully  contrasting  its  sweet  tranquillity  with 
he  turmoil  of  Worms.  The  next  day  he  again  set  out 
n  company  with  Amsdorff  and  his  brother  James.  It 
was  in  these  secluded  spots  that  the  Reformer's  fate 
was  on  the  point  of  being  decided.  They  skirted  the 

¥  Non  finem  sed  initium.    (P.  Marty ris  Epp.  p.  412.) 

\  Ad  carnem  meam  trans  sylvam  profectus.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  7.) 


188 


THE  WAYS  OF  GOD— THE  REFORMATION  UNDER  A  CLOUD. 


woods  of  Thuringen,  taking  the  path  that  leads  to 
Waltershausen.  As  the  wagon  was  passing  a  narrow 
defile  near  the  ruined  church  of  Glisbach,  a  short  dis- 
tance from  the  castle  of  Altenstein,  suddenly  a  noise 
was  heard,  and  in  a  moment,  five  horsemen,  masked 
and  armed  from  head  to  foot,  fell  upon  them.  His 
brother  James,  as  soon  as  he  caught  sight  of  the  assail- 
ants, jumped  from  the  wagon,  and  fled  as  fast  as  he 
could  without  uttering  a  word.  The  driver  would 
have  resisted.  "  Stop,"  cried  a  hoarse  voice,  and  in- 
stantly one  of  the  attacking  party  threw  him  to  the 
earth.*  Another  of  the  masks  grasped  AmsdorrT,  and 
held  him  fast.  While  this  was  doing,  the  three  horse- 
men laid  hold  on  Luther,  maintaining  profound  silence. 
They  forced  him  to  alight,  and  throwing  a  knight's 
cloak  over  his  shoulders,  set  him  on  a  led  horse  that 
they  had  with  them.  This  done,  the  two  other  masks 
let  go  AmsdorrT  and  the  wagoner,  and  the  whole  five 
sprang  into  their  saddles.  One  dropped  his  cap,  but 
they  did  not  stop  to  recover  it ;  and  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye,  the  party  and  their  prisoner  were  lost  in  the 
thick  gloom  of  the  forest.  At  firs-t  they  took  the  di- 
rection of  Broderode  ;  but  they  rapidly  changed  their 
route,  and,  without  quitting  the  forest,  rode  first  in  one 
direction,  and  then  in  another,  turning  their  horses'  feet 
to  baffle  any  attempt  to  track  their  course.  Luther, 
little  used  to  riding,  was  soon  overcome  with  fatigue. -f 
His  guides  permitted  him  to  stop  for  a  few  instants. 
He  rested  on  the  earth  beside  a  beech  tree,  and  drank 
some  water  from  a  spring  which  still  bears  his  name. 
His  brother  James,  continuing  his  flight  from  the  scene 
of  the  rencounter,  reached  Waltershausen  that  evening. 
The  driver,  hastily  throwing  himself  into  the  wagon, 
in  which  AmsdorrT  had  already  mounted,  galloped  his 
horse  at  full  speed,  and  conducted  Luther's  friend  to 
Wittemberg.  At  Waltershausen,  at  Wittemberg,  in 
the  open  country,  the  villages  and  towns  on  the  route, 
the  news  spread  that  Luther  was  carried  off.  Some 
rejoiced  at  the  report,  but  the  greater  number  were 
struck  with  astonishment  and  indignation — and  soon  a 
cry  of  grief  resounded  throughout  Germany — "  Luther 
has  fallen  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies  !" 

After  the  stirring  conflict  that  Luther  had  been  cal- 
led to  sustain,  it  had  pleased  God  that  he  should  be 
transferred  to  a  place  of  repose  and  peace.  After 
raising  him  on  the  dazzling  stage  of  Worms,  where  all 
the  energies  of  the  Reformer's  soul  had  been  roused 
to  their  highest  pitch,  God  had  prepared  for  him  the 
obscure  and  lowly  refuge  of  a  prison.  He  draws  from 
the  deepest  obscurity  the  frail  instruments  by  which 
He  designs  to  bring  mighty  things  to  pass  ;  and  then 
when  He  had  suffered  them  to  shine  for  a  while  on  an 
illumined  stage,  He  dismisses  them  again  to  obscu- 
rity. The  Reformation  was  to  be  brought  about  by 
Other  steps  than  violent  struggles  or  public  tribunals. 
Not  thus  does  the  leaven  penetrate  the  body  of  the 
people — the  spirit  of  God  seeks  stiller  channels. 
The  man  whom  the  champions  of  Rome  were  piteously 
persecuting,  was  to  disappear  for  a  time  from  the 
world.  It  was  needful  that  his  personal  greatness 
should  be  hidden  in  shade,  that  the  revolution  then  ac- 
complishing might  not  bear  the  impress  of  one  man. 
It  was  fit  that  the  man  should  be  put  aside  that  God 
alone  might  remain,  to  move  by  his  spirit  over  the 

*  Dqectoque  in  solum  auriga  et  verberato.  (Pallav.  i.  122.) 
t  Longo  itinere,  novus  eques,  fessus.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  3,) 


abyss,  wherein  the  darkness  of  the  middle  ages  was 
sinking,  and  to  say,  "Let  there  be  light  !"  in  order 
that  there  might  be  light. 

The  shades  of  evening  closing  in,  and  no  one  being 
able  to  observe  their  track,  Luther's  escort  changed 
their  route.  It  was  nearly  eleven  o'clock  at  night 
when  they  arrived  at  the  foot  of  a  hill.*  The  horses 
slowly  climbed  the  steep  ascent.  On  the  summit  stood 
an  ancient  fortress,  on  every  side  but  that  by  which 
they  approached  it,  surrounded  by  the  black  forests 
which  clothe  the  mountains  of  Thuringen. 

It  was  to  the  lofty  and  isolated  castle  of  Wartbnrg, 
where  the  ancient  Landgraves  in  earlier  times  had 
fixed  their  retreat,  that  Luther  was  thus  led.  The 
bolts  were  drawn  back,  the  iron  bars  fell,  the  gates  un- 
closed, the  Reformer  passed  the  threshold,  and  the 
doors  were  closed  upon  him.  He  dismounted  in  an 
inner  court.  One  of  the  horsemen,  Burkard  von  Hund, 
lord  of  Aftenstein,  then  left  him.  Another,  John  von 
Berlepsch,  provost  of  Wartburg,  conducted  him  to  his 
apartment,  where  he  found  a  knight's  garment  and 
sword.  The  three  others  followed,  and  took  away  his 
ecclesiastical  habit,  attiring  him  in  the  knightly  dress 
prepared  for  him,  and  enjoining  him  to  let  his  beard 
and  hair  grow,*  that  no  one  in  the  castle  might  know 
who  he  was.  The  attendants  of  the  castle  of  Wart- 
burg,  were  to  know  the  prisoner  only  by  the  name  of 
knight  George.  Luther  scarcely  recognized  himself 
under  his  singular  metamorphosis. t  Left  at  length  to 
his  meditations,  he  had  leisure  to  revolve  the  extraor- 
dinary events  that  had  befallen  him  at  Worms,  the  un- 
certain future  that  awaited  him,  and  his  new  and  strange 
abode.  From  the  narrow  windows  of  his  turret,  his 
eye  discovered  the  dark,  untrodden,  and  boundless 
forest  which  surrounded  him.  "  It  was  there,"  says 
Mathesius,  his  friend  and  biographer,  "  that  Luther  was 
shut  in,  like  St.  Paul  in  his  prison  at  Rome." 

Frederic  von  Thun,  Philip  Feilitsch,  and  Spalatin,  in 
a  confidential  conversation  with  Luther,  by  order  of 
the  Elector,  had  not  disguised  from  him  that  his  liberty 
would  be  sacrificed  to  the  anger  of  Charles,  and  of  the 
pope.§  Yet  this  forced  abduction  was  so  involved  in 
mystery,  that  Frederic  himself  was  for  a  long  time  ig- 
norant of  the  place  where  Luther  was  concealed.  The 
grief  of  those  who  were  favourable  to  the  Reformation 
continued.  Spring  passed  away  ;  summer,  autumn, 
winter,  succeeded — the  sun  had  run  its  annual  course, 
and  the  walls  of  the  Wartburg  still  held  their  prisoner. 
Truth  had  been  placed  under  interdict  by  the  German 
diet ;  and  its  defender,  immured  in  a  fortress,  was  no 
longer  on  the  stage  of  events  ;  and  even  the  fate  that 
had  overtaken  him  was  unknown.  Aleander  was  all 
confidence,  and  the  Reformation  appeared  lost  .  .  .  but 
God  reigns !  and  the  blow  which  seemed  to  bring  to 
nothing  the  cause  of  the  gospel,  will  but  serve  to 
rescue  its  undaunted  servant,  and  diffuse  far  and  wide 
the  radiance  of  faith. 

Let  us  leave  Luther  a  captive  in  Germany,  on  the 
heights  of  the  Wartburg,  and  let  us  see  what  God  was 
then  bringing  to  pass  in  other  countries  of  Christen- 
dom. 

*  Hora  ferme  undecima  ad  mansionem  noptis  pelveni  in  te- 
nebris.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  3.) 

t  Exutus  vestibus  mcis  et  equestribus  indutns,  comam  et 
barbam  nutriens  ...  (L.  Epp.  ii.  7.) 

\  Cum  ipse  me  jam  Judum  non  uoverim.     (Ibid.) 

§  Seckendorf,  p.  365. 


189 

BOOK  VIII. 

THE  SWISS.— 1484— 1522. 


AT  the  period  when  the  decree  of  the  diet  of  Worms 
was  announced,  a  steadily  progressive  movement  was 
beginning  to  manifest  itself  in  the  quiet  valleys  of 
Switzerland.  To  the  voices  which  were  raised  in  the 
plains  of  Upper  and  Lower  Saxony,  responded  from 
the  mountains  of  Switzerland  the  bold  voices  of  its 
priests  and  herdsmen,  or  of  the  inhabitants  of  its  mar- 
tial cities.  The  partizans  of  Rome,  in  their  sudden 
alarm,  exclaimed  aloud  that  a  vast  and  formidable  con- 
spiracy was  everywhere  forming  against  the  church. 
The  friends  of  the  gospel  joyfully  replied,  that  as  in 
spring-time  the  breath  of  life  is  felt  from  the  sea  shore 
to  the  mountain  top,  so  the  spirit  of  God  was  now 
melting  the  ice  of  a  long  winter  in  every  part  of  Chris- 
tendom, and  clothing  with  verdure  and  flowers  ihe 
most  secluded  valleys,  and  the  most  steep  and  barren 
rocks.  Germany  did  not  communicate  the  light  of 
truth  to  Switzerland — Switzerland  to  France — France 
to  England  ;  all  these  lands  received  it  from  God  : 
just  as  no  one  region  transmits  the  light  to  another, 
but  the  same  orb  of  splendour  dispenses  it  direct  to 
the  earth.  Raised  far  above  men,  Christ,  the  Day-Star 
from  on  high,  was,  at  the  period  of  the  Reformation, 
as  at  the  first  introduction  of  the  gospel,  the  divine 
source  whence  came  the  light  of  the  world.  One  and 
the  same  doctrine  suddenly  established  itself  in  the 
16th  century,  at  the  domestic  hearths,  and  in  the  places 
of  worship  of  nations  the  most  distant  and  dissimilar. 
It  was  because  the  same  spirit  was  everywhere  present, 
producing  the  same  faith. 

The  Reformation  in  Germany,  and  that  in  Switzer- 
land, demonstrate  this  truth.  Zwingle  did  not  com- 
municate with  Luther.  Doubtless  there  was  a  bond 
of  union  between  both  these  men  ;  but  we  must  seek 
it  above  this  earth.  He  who  gave  the  truth  from  hea- 
ven to  Luther,  gave  it  to  Zwingle.  Their  communion 
was  in  God.  "  I  began,"  said  Zwingle,  "  to  preach 
the  gospel  in  the  year  of  grace,  1516 — that  is,  at  a 
time  when  the  name  of  Luther  had  never  been  heard 
among  these  countries.  It  was  not  from  Luther  that 
I  learned  the  doctrine  of  Christ — it  was  from  God's 
word.  If  Luther  preached  Christ,  he  does  as  I  do : 
that  is  all."* 

But  while  the  several  Reformations  derived  from 
the  same  spirit  a  comprehensive  unity — they  also  bore 
various  peculiar  features  derived  from  the  different 
populations  in  the  midst  of  which  they  were  wrought. 

We  have  already  lightly  sketched  the  state  of  Swit- 
zerland at  the  period  of  the  Reformation.  We  will 
add  but  a  few  words.  In  Germany  the  principle  of 
monarchy  prevailed.  In  Switzerland  the  democratic 
principle  prevailed.  In  Germany  the  Reformation  had 
to  struggle  against  the  authority  of  princes — in  Swit- 
zerland against  the  will  of  the  people.  A  popular 
assembly,  more  readily  swayed  than  a  single  individual, 
is  more  hasty  in  its  decisions.  The  victory  over  papal 
rule,  which,  beyond  the  Rhine,  had  cost  years,  required, 
on  the  Swiss  bank,  but  a  few  months,  or  even  days, 

In  Germany  the  person  of  Luther  rises  majestically 
amid  the  Saxon  population  ;  he  seems  almost  alone  in 
his  attacks  on  the  Roman  Colossus  ;  and  wherever 

'  *  .  .  .  1516,  eo  scilicet  tempore,  quum  Lutheri  nomen  in 
nostris  regionibus  inauditum  adhuc  erat .  . .  doctrinam  Christi 
non  a  Luthero,  sed  ex  verbo  Dei  didici.  (Zwinglii  Opera 
currant  Schulero  et  Schultessio,  Turici  vol.  i,  273,  276.) 


the  battle  rages,  we  distinguish  his  lofty  figure  on  the 
field  of  conflict.  Luther  is,  as  it  were,  the  monarch  of 
the  change  which  is  effected — In  Switzerland  the  con- 
test is  begun,  at  one  and  the  same  lime  in  several 
cantons  ;  there  is  a  confederation  of  reformers  ;  their 
very  number  surprises  us.  Doubtless  one  head  is  seen 
above  the  rest — but  no  one  commands — it  is  a  repub- 
lican magistracy,  to  which  all  come,  bearing  the  pecu-^ 
liar  features  of  their  origin.  We  have  Wittembach,' 
Zwingle,  Capito,  Heller,  CEcolampadius,  Oswald  My- 
conius,  Leo  Juda,  Farell,  Calvin  ;  it  is  at  Claris,  at 
Bale,  at  Zurich,  at  Berne,  at  Neufchatel,  at  Geneva, 
at  Lucerne,  at  Schaffhausen,  at  Appenzel,  at  Saint 
Gall,  and  in  the  country  of  the  Grisons.  In  the  Ger- 
man Reformation  but  one  stage  is  seen,  and  that 
uniform  and  level,  like  the  face  of  the  land  ;  but  in 
Switzerland  the  Reformation  appears  broken,  like  the 
country  itself,  by  its  thousand  hills.  Every  valley  has 
its  own  hour  of  awakening,  and  every  mountain  top 
its  own  radiance. 

A  calamitous  period  had  ensued  to  the  Swiss  people 
since  their  exploits  against  the  Dukes  of  Burgundy. 
Europe,  having  learned  the  strength  of  their  arms,  had 
drawn  them  from  their  fastnesses,  and  deprived  them 
of  their  independence,  by  making  them  arbiters  in  the 
field  of  battle  of  the  fortunes  of  her  states.  The  hand 
of  the  Swiss  peasant  turned  a  sword  against  the  breast 
of  his  countryman  in  the  plains  of  Italy  and  France, 
while  foreign  intrigues  were  spreading  discord  and  en- 
vy in  those  Alpine  meadows,  so  long  the  abode  of  sim- 
plicity and  peace.  Tempted  by  golden  bribes,  sons, 
workmen,  and  servants,  quitted,  by  stealth,  the  chalets 
of  the  mountain  pastures  to  tread  the  banks  of  the 
Rhone,  or  of  the  Po.  Swiss  unity  had  yielded  to  the 
gradual  progress  of  mules  laden  with  gold.  The  Re- 
formation— for,  in  Switzerland,  the  Reformation  had 
its'political  aspect — proposed  to  re-establish  the  unity 
and  primitive  virtue  of  the  cantons.  Its  first  call  was, 
that  the  people  should  tear  in  pieces  the  nets  of  foreign 
lures,  and,  with  one  heart,  embrace  each  other  at  the 
foot  of  the  Cross.  But  its  generous  desire  was  un- 
heeded ;  Rome,  long  used  to  recruit  in  the  Swiss  val- 
leys, the  blood  she  lavished  in  the  strife  for  power, 
arose  indignantly.  She  excited  the  Swiss  against  their 
own  contrymen ;  and  passions,  till  then  unknown,  la- 
cerated the  bosom  of  the  nation. 

Switzerland  stood  in  need  of  a  reformation.  The 
Swiss  were,  it  is  true,  remarkable  for  a  simplicity  and 
credulity  which  were  subjects  of  ridicule  to  the  cunning 
Italians ;  but  they  were  also  considered  to  be,  of  all 
nations,  the  most  stained  by  incontinency.  Astrolo- 
gers ascribed  this  to  the  constellations* — philosophers 
to  the  temperament  of  these  indomitable  people — mo- 
ralists to  the  principles  of  the  Swiss,  who  counted  de- 
ceit, unkindness,  and  calumny,  sins  of  deeper  dye  than 
unchastity.f  Marriage  was  forbidden  to  the  priests  ; 
but  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  find  one  who  lived 
in  true  celibacy.  Often  they  were  enjoined  to  behave 
themselves,  not  chastely — but  prudently.  This  was 
one  of  the  first  disorders  which  the  Reformation  op- 
posed. It  is  time  to  take  a  view  of  the  glimmerings 
of  the  new  light  that  was  dawning  in  the  Alps. 

*  Wirz,  Helvetische  Kirchen  Geschichte,  iii.  201. 
t  Sodomitis  melius  erit  in  die  judicii,  quam  rernm  ve!  hono- 
ris ablatoribus.     (Hemmerlin,  de  anno  jubilseo.) 


190 


THE  HERDSMAN'S  FAMILY— YOUNG  ULRICH. 


Toward  the  middle  of  the  eleventh  century,  two  pil- 
grims penetrated  from  St.  Gall,  in  the  direction  of  the 
mountains  southward  of  that  ancient  monastery,  and 
reached  an  uninhabited  valley,  ten  leagues  in  extent.* 
This  valley  is,  on  the  north,  separated  from  the  canton 
of  Appenzel  by  the  lofty  mountains  of  the  Sentis,  the 
Sommerigkopf,  and  the  Old  Man.  Southward,  the 
Kuhfirsten,  with  its  seven  peaks,  rises  between  it  and 
the  Wallenses,  Sargans,  and  the  Grisons.  Toward 
the  east,  the  valley  lies  open  to  the  rays  of  the  rising 
sun,  displaying  in  the  distance  the  magnificent  prospect 
of  the  Tyrolese  Alps.  The  two  pilgrims,  arriving  at 
the  source  of  a  small  stream,  the  Thur,  erected  there 
two  cells.  By  slow  degrees,  thinly-scattered  habita- 
tions appeared:  and,  on  the  most  elevated  site,  2010 
/eel  above  the  lake  of  Zurich,  there  arose,  around  a 
little  church,  a  village,  called  Wildhaus,  or  the  Wild- 
house,  on  which  now  depend  two  hamlets,  Lisighaus, 
Or  Elizabeth's  house,  and  Shonenboden.  On  those 
elevated  spots,  the  earth  does  not  yield  its  fruits.  A 
green  sward  of  Alpine  freshness  clothes  the  whole  val- 
ley, ascending  the  sides  of  mountains,  above  which, 
enormous  rocks  rise,  in  savage  grandeur,  toward  hea- 
ven. 

A  quarter  of  a  league  from  the  church,  near  Lisig- 
haus, beside  a  footway  leading  to  the  pastures  beyond 
the  river,  there  still  stands  a  solitary  house.  Tradition 
informs  us,  that  the  wood  required  for  the  building  was 
felled  on  the  very  spot  it  occupies.!  It  has  every  ap- 
pearance of  remote  antiquity.  The  walls  are  thin — 
the  windows  are  composed  of  small  round  panes — the 
roof  is  formed  of  shingles,  loaded  with  stones  to  pre- 
vent the  wind  carrying  them  away.  In  front  gushes  a 
limpid  stream. 

There  lived  in  this  house,  toward  the  close  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  a  man  named  Zwingle,  amman  or 
bailiff  of  the  village.  The  family  of  Zwingle  or  Zwin- 
gli  was  ancient,  and  in  great  esteem  among  the  dwel- 
lers on  these  mountains. %  Bartholomew,  the  bailiffs 
brother,  first  curate  of  the  parish,  and,  in  1487,  dean 
of  Wesen,  enjoyed  a  sort  of  reputation  in  the  district.  $ 
The  wife  of  the  amman  of  Wildhaus,  Margaret  Meili, 
whose  brother,  John,  was  afterward  abbot  of  the  con- 
vent of  Fischingen,  in  Thurgovia,  had  already  borne 
him  two  sons,  Henry  and  Klaus,  when,  on  new  year's 
day,  1484,  just  seven  weeks  from  the  birth  of  Luther, 
a  third  son,  who  was  afterward  named  Ulrich,  saw  the 
light  in  this  solitary  chalet.  II  Five  other  sons,  John, 
Wolfgang,  Bartholomew,  James,  and  Andrew,  and  one 
daughter,  added  to  the  strength  of  this  Alpine  family. 
Not  a  man  in  the  neighbouring  country  was  more  re- 
spected than  the  bailiff,  Zwingle.T  His  character,  his 
office,  and  his  numerous  progeny,  made  him  the  patri- 
arch of  these  hills.  He,  as  well  as  his  sons,  led  a  shep- 
herd's life.  Soon  as  the  early  days  of  May  arrived  to 
cheer  the  mountains,  the  father  and  his  sons  set  out 
with  tKeir  flocks  for  the  pastures ;  ascending,  as  the 
season  advanced,  from  station  to  station,  and  attaining 
the  loftiest  summits  of  the  Alps  toward  the  end  of  July. 
Then  they  began  again  to  descend  gradually  toward  the 
valley,  and,  in  this  way,  the  people  of  Wildhaus  were 
accustomed  to  return  in  autumn  to  their  lowly  cottages. 

*  Tockenburg. 

f  Schuler's,  Zwingli's  Bildungs  Gesch.  p.  290. 

\  Diss  Geschlacht,  der  Zwinglinen,  wass  in  guter  Achtung 
diesser  Landen,  als  ein  gut  alt  ehrlich  Geschlacht.  (H.  Bui- 
linger  Hist.  Beschreibung  der  Eidg.  Geschichten,)  This  pre- 
cious work  exists  only  in  manuscript.  I  am  indebted  for  the 
communication  of  it  to  the  kindness  of  M.  J.  G.  Hess.  The 
orthography  of  the  manuscript  is  preserved. 

^  Ein  Verrumbter  Mann.     (Ibid.) 

|j  "Quadragessimum  octavum  agimus."  Swingle  to  Va- 
dian,  17th  Sept.  1531. 

V  Clarus  fuit  pater  ob  spectatam  vitae  sanctimoniam.  (Os- 
wald Myconius  Vita  Zwinglii.) 


Frequently,  in  summer,  the  young  folks,  who  had  been 
left  behind  in  their  habitations,  eager  to  breathe  the 
pure  air  of  the  mountains,  set  out  in  parties  for  the 
chalets,  accompanying,  with  their  songs,  the  sound  of 
their  rustic  music  ;  for  all  were  musical.  As  they  ar- 
rived on  the  Alps,  the  shepherds  saluted  them  from 
afar  with  their  horns  and  songs,  and  hastened  to  regale 
them  with  a  repast  of  milk :  after  which,  the  merry 
company,  by  many  a  winding  path,  descended  again 
into  the  valley,  to  the  sound  of  their  pipes.  Ulrich, 
doubtless,  sometimes  shared  these  delights  in  early 
youth.  He  grew  up  at  the  foot  of  those  rocks  which 
seemed  everlasting,  and  whose  peaks  pointed  to  the 
skies.  "  I  have  often  thought,"  said  one  of  his  friends, 
"  that,  being  brought  near  to  heaven  on  these  sublime 
heights,  he  contracted  a  something  heavenly  and  di- 
vine."* 

Many  were  the  long  winter  evenings  in  the  cottages 
of  Wildhaus.  At  such  seasons,  young  Ulrich  listened 
at  his  paternal  hearth,  to  the  conversations  of  the  bai- 
liff and  the  elderly  men  of  the  village.  When  they 
recounted  how  the  people  of  the  valley  had  formerly 
groaned  under  a  cruel  yoke,  his  heart  responded  to  the 
old  men's  joy  at  the  thoughts  of  the  independence 
achieved  by  Tockenburg,  and  secured  to  it  by  its  al- 
liance with  the  Swiss.  The  love  of  his  country  was 
kindled,  and  Switzerland  became  endeared  to  his  heart. 
If  a  word  were  uttered  against  the  confederated  can- 
tons, the  child  would  immediately  rise,  and,  with  simple 
earnestness,  undertake  their  defence,  t  Often,  too, 
would  he  sit  quietly  at  the  knee  of  his  pious  grandmo- 
ther, listening,  with  fixed  attention,  to  her  Bible  sto- 
ries and  superstitious  legends,  and  eagerly  received 
them  into  his  heart. 

The  good  bailiff  took  delight  in  observing  the  pro- 
mising disposition  of  his  son.  He  thought  he  saw  that 
Ulric  might  be  fit  for  something  better  than  tending 
his  herds  on  Mount  Sentis,  and  singing  the  Ranz  des 
Bergers.  One  day  he  took  him  in  his  hand,  and  di- 
rected his  steps  toward  Wesen.  He  crossed  the 
grassy  summits  of  the  Ammon,  avoiding  the  wild  and 
bold  rocks  which  border  the  Lake  of  Wallenstadt ;  and, 
arriving  at  the  village,  entered  the  dwelling  of  the  dean, 
his  brother,  and  gave  into  his  care  the  young  moun- 
taineer, to  be  examined  as  to  his  capacities. %  The 
dean,  in  a  short  time,  loved  his  nephew  as  if  he  were 
his  own  son.  Delighted  with  the  quickness  of  his  un- 
derstanding, he  confided  the  task  of  his  instruction  to 
a  schoolmaster,  who  soon  taught  him  all  he  himself 
knew.  When  he  was  ten  years  old,  Ulric  already 
evinced  marks  of  superior  intelligence,^  and  his  father 
and  uncle  decided  on  sending  him  to  Bale. 

When  this  child  of  the  mountains  of  Tockenburg 
arrived  in  that  celebrated  city,  a  new  world  seemed  to 
open  before  him.  The  fame  of  the  celebrated  Coun- 
cil of  Bale,  its  university,  founded  by  Pius  II.,  in  1460, 
its  printing-presses,  which  recalled  to  life  the  great 
writers  of  antiquity,  and  disseminated  through  the 
world  the  first-fruits  of  the  revival  of  learning,  and  the 
circumstances  of  its  being  the  abode  chosen  by  such 
eminent  men  as  the  Wessels  and  Wittembaehs,  and, 
above  all,  by  Erasmus,  made  Bale,  at  the  period  of 
the  Reformation,  one  of  the  great  foci  of  illumination 
in  the  west. 

Ulric  was  placed  in  St.  Theodore's  school,  at  that 
time  presided  over  by  Gregory  Binzli,  a  man  of  af- 
fectionate character,  and  of  a  gentleness,  at  that  period, 

*  Dirinitatis  nonnihil  ccelo  propriorem  contraxisse.    (Ows. 
Myc.) 

t  Schulers  Zw.  Bildung.  p.  291. 

*  Tenerimum  adhuc  ad  fratrem  sacnficum  adduxu,  ut  mge- 
nii  ejus  periculum  facerit.   (Melch.  Ad.  Zw.  p.  25 ) 

fc  Und  in  Ihm  erschinen  merkliche  Zeichen  eines  edlen  Ge- 
muths.  (Bullinger's  MS.) 


ULRICH  AT  BALE— AT  BERNE— JETZER  AND  THE  GHOST. 


191 


rarely  found  in  schoolmasters.  Young  Zwingle  made 
rapid  progress.  Learned  discussions,  much  in  vogue 
in  that  age,  among  the  doctors  of  universities,  had  de- 
scended even  to  the  children  of  the-  school.  Ulrichtook 
part  in  them,  disciplining  his  nascent  strength  against 
the  pupils  of  other  establishments,  and  invariably  com- 
ing off  victorious  from  these  contests,  which  were  as 
the  preludes  ot  those  which  were  to  overthrow  the  pa- 
pal authority  in  Switzerland.*  Such  early  successes 
roused  the  jealousy  of  his  senior  rivals.  Ere  long,  he 
outgrew  the  school  of  Bale,  as  he  had  outgrown  that 
of  Wesen. 

Lupulus,  a  distinguished  scholar,  had  shortly  be- 
fore opened  at  Berne,  the  first  learned  foundation  of 
Switzerland.  The  bailiff  of  Wildhaus,  and  the  Cu- 
rate of  Wesen,  agreed  together  to  send  the  youth  there, 
and,  in  1497,  Zwingle,  leaving  the  smiling  plains  of 
Bale,  again  approached  those  upper  Alps,  among  which 
he  had  passed  his  infancy,  and  whose  snowy  summits, 
glowing  in  the  sun,  might  be  discerned  from  Berne. 
Lupulus,  a  distinguished  poet,  introduced  his  pupil  to 
the  hidden  treasures  of  classical  learning,!  then  known 
only,  and  but  slightly,  to  a  few.  The  young  neophyte 
was  delighted  to  breathe  these  perfumes  of  antiquity. 
His  mind  opened,  his  style  took  its  form,  and  himself 
became  a  poet. 

Among  the  convents  of  Berne,  that  of  the  Domini- 
cans was  most  celebrated.  A  grave  controversy  exist- 
ed between  these  monks  and  the  Franciscans.  The 
latter  maintained  the  immaculate  conception  of  the 
Virgin,  which  the  former  denied.  Wherever  they  went 
— at  the  splendid  altar,  that  adorned  their  church — 
and  from  the  twelve  columns  which  supported  its  roof, 
the  Dominicans  thought  of  nothing  but  to  humble  their 
rivals.  The  well-toned  voice  of  Zwingle  had  drawn 
their  notice ;  they  listened  to  the  accounts  brought  them 
of  his  precocious  understanding;  and,  thinking  he  might 
do  credit  to  their  order,  sought  to  attract  him  among 
tbem,J  and  invited  him  to  take  up  his  residence  in  the 
convent,  until  the  period  when  he  might  pass  his  no- 
viciate. The  future  usefulness  of  Zwingle  was  at  stake. 
The  amman  of  Wildhaus,  on  learning  'the  baits  the 
Dominicans  held  out,  trembled  for  the  innocence  of 
his  son,  and  desired  him  to  leave  Berne  without  de- 
lay. Thus,  Zwingle  escaped  those  monastic  walls  in 
which  Luther  had  voluntarily  immured  himself.  What 
afterward  ensued,  will  show  the  greatness  of  the  dan- 
ger Zwingle  then  incurred. 

A  great  agitation  reigned  in  Berne,  in  1507.  A 
young  man  of  Zurzack,  name  John  Jetzer,  having  one 
day  presented  himself  at  the  convent  of  the  Domini- 
cans, had  been  repulsed.  The  poor  youth,  grieving  at 
his  rejection,  had  returned  to  the  charge,  holding  out 
53  florins,  and  some  silk  stuffs.  "  It  is  all  I  have  in 
the  world,"  said  he,  "  take  it,  and  receive  me  into  your 
order."  He  was  admitted  on  the  6th  of  January,  as  a 
lay  brother.  But,  on  the  very  first  night,  a  strange 
noise  in  his  cell  filled  him  with  terror.  He  fled  to  the 
convent  of  Carthusians,  but  they  sent  him  back  to  the 
Dominicans. 

The  following  night,  being  the  eve  of  the  festival 
of  St.  Matthias,  he  was  awakened  by  deep  sighs. 
Opening  his  eyes,  he  beheld  by  his  bedside,  a  tall 
phantom,  clothed  in  white.  "  I  am  a  soul  from  the 
fires  of  purgatory,"  said  a  sepulchral  voice.  The  lay 
brother  answered,  shuddering,  "  May  God  deliver  you 
— I  can  do  nothing."  On  this  the  spirit  drew  nigh, 
and,  seizing  him  by  the  throat,  reproached  him  with 
his  refusal.  The  terrified  Jetzer  cried  aloud,  "  What 

*  In  disputationibus,  quse  pro  more  tuam  erant  inter  pueros 
usitata  Victorian  semper  reportavit.  (Osw.  Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 

f  Ab  eo  in  adyta  classicorum  scriptorum  intro'ductus.  (Ibid.) 

J  Und  alss  er  wol  singen  kondt  lokten  Ihn  die  prcdiger 
Monchen  in  das  Kloster.  (Bullinger,  MSC.) 


can  I  do  for  your  deliverance  ?"  "  You  must  scourge 
yourself  to  blood  during  eight  days,  and  lie  prostrate 
on  the  earth,  in  the  chapel  of  St  John."  This  said,  the 
apparition  vanished.  The  lay  brother  confided  what 
he  had  seen  to  his  confessor,  the  convent  preacher, 
and,  by  his  advice,  submitted  to  the  discipline  en- 
joined him.  It  was  soon  reported  throughout  the  town, 
that  a  departed  soul  had  applied  to  the  Dominicans  for 
its  deliverance  out  of  purgatory.  The  multitude  desert- 
ed the  Franciscans,  and  every  one  hastened  to  the  church 
where  the  holy  man  was  seen  stretched  prostrate  on  the 
earth.  The  soul  of  the  sufferer  had  announced  that 
it  would  return  in  eight  days.  On  the  appointed  night 
it  re-appeared,  accompanied  by  two  spirits,  tormenting 
it,  and  howling  fearfully.  "  Scot .'"  said  the  voice, 
4t  Scot,  the  forger  of  the  Franciscans'  doctrine  of  the 
immaculate  conception  of  the  Virgin,  is  among  those 
who  suffer  with  me  these  horrible  torments."  At  this 
report,  which  soon  circulated  in  Berne,  the  partisans 
of  the  Franciscans  were  still  more  appalled.  But  the 
soul  had  announced  that  the  Virgin  herself  would  make 
her  appearance.  Accordingly,  on  the  day  named,  the 
astonished  brother  beheld  Mary  appear  in  his  cell.  He 
could  not  believe  his  eyes.  She  approached  him  kindly, 
delivered  to  him  three  tears  of  Jesus,  three  drops  of 
his  blood,  a  crucifix,  and  a  letter  addressed  to  Pope 
Julius  II.  "  He  is,"  said  she,  "  the  man  whom  God 
has  chosen  to  abolish  the  festival  of  the  immaculate 
conception."  Then,  coming  close  to  the  bed  in  which 
the  brother  lay,  she  announced,  in  a  solemn  tone,  that 
a  distinguished  grace  was  about  to  be  conferred  on. 
him,  and  he  felt  his  hand  pierced  with  a  nail ! — but 
Mary  wrapped  round  the  wound  a  linen  cloth,  worn, 
she  said,  by  her  son  during  the  flight  into  Egypt.  But 
this  was  not  enough  ;  that  the  glory  of  the  Dominicans 
might  equal  that  of  the  Franciscans,  Jetzer  was  to  have 
the  five  wounds  of  Christ  and  of  St.  Francis  in  his 
hands,  feet,  and  side.  The  other  four  were  inflicted, 
a  sleeping-potion  was  administered,  and  he  was  placed 
in  an  apartment  hung  with  tapestry,  representing  the 
events  of  the  Passion.  Here  he  passed  days,  his  ima- 
gination becoming  inflamed.  Then  the  doors  were 
from  time  to  time  thrown  open  to  the  people,  who 
came  in  crowds  to  gaze  on  the  brother  with  the  five 
wounds,  extending  his  arms,  with  his  head  reclined, 
and  imitating,  in  his  posture,  the  crucifixion  of  our 
Lord.  At  intervals,  losing  consciousness,  he  foamed 
at  the  mouth,  and  seemed  to  give  up  the  ghost.  "  He 
is  suffering  the  cross  of  Christ,"  whispered  those  who 
stood  round  him.  The  multitude,  eager  for  wonders, 
incessantly  thronged  the  convent.  Men  worthy  of  high 
esteem,  even  Lupulus,  the  master  of  Zwingle,  were 
awe-struck  ;  and  the  Dominicans,  from  their  pulpits, 
extolled  the  glory  with  which  God  had  covered  their 
order. 

For  some  years  that  order  had  felt  a  necessity  for 
humbling  the  Franciscans,  and  adding,  by  the  claim 
of  miracles,  to  the  devotion  and  liberality  of  the  peo- 
ple. Berne,  with  its  "  simple,  rustic,  and  ignorant  po- 
pulation," (adopting  the  description  of  it  given  by  the 
sub-prior  of  Berne,  to  the  chapter  held  at  Wempfen, 
on  the  Nccker,)  had  been  chosen  for  the  scene  of  these 
wonders.  The  prior,  the  sub-prior,  the  preacher,  and 
the  purveyor  of  the  convent,  had  taken  upon  them  the 
chief  parts;  but  they  could  not  play  them  throughout. 
Favoured  with  another  vision  of  Mary,  Jetzer  thought 
he  recognized  the  voice  of  his  confessor,  and,  having 
given  utterance  to  his  suspicion,  Mary  vanished.  Soon 
after  she  again  appeared,  to  upbraid  him  with  his  incre- 
dulity. "  This  time  it  is  the  prior !"  cried  Jetzer,  throw- 
ing himself  forward,  with  a  knife  in  his  hand.  The 
saint  hurled  a  pewter  plate  at  the  head  of  the  brother, 
and  again  disappeared. 


192 


EXPOSURE  OF  THE  DOMINICANS— WITTEMBACH— ZWINGLE. 


In  consternation  at  the  discovery  which  Jetzer  had 
made,  the  Dominicans  sought  to  rid  themselves  of  him 
by  poison.  He  detected  the  artifice,  and,  fleeing  from 
the  convent,  divulged  their  imposture.  They  put  a 
good  face  upon  the  matter,  and  despatched  deputies 
to  Rome.  The  pope  commissioned  his  legate  in  Swit- 
zerland, together  with  the  Bishops  of  Lausanne  and 
Sion,  to  investigate  the  affair.  The  four  Dominicans 
were  convicted,  and  condemned  to  be  burnt  alive,  and, 
on  the  1st  of  May,  1609,  they  perished  in  the  flames, 
in  presence  of  more  than  thirty  thousand  spectators. 
This  event  made  a  great  noise  throughout  Europe,  and, 
oy  revealing  one  great  plague  of  the  church,  was  in- 
strumental in  preparing  the  way  of  the  Reformation.* 

Such  were  the  men  from  whose  hands  young  Ulrich 
Zwingle  escaped.  He  had  studied  letters  at  Berne — 
he  was  now  to  apply  himself  to  philosophy  ;  and,  for 
this  purpose,  he  repaired  to  Vienna,  in  Austria.  Joa- 
chim Vadian,  a  young  native  of  St.  Gall,  whose  genius 
seemed  to  give  promise  of  a  distinguished  statesman 
to  Switzerland  ;  Henri  Loreti,  of  the  canton  of  Glaris, 
commonly  called  Glarianus,  and  who  showed  consider- 
able latent  for  poetry  ;  a  young  Suabian,  John  Hei- 
gerlin,  son  of  a  smith,  and  on  that  account  called  Fa- 
ber,  of  supple  character,  fond  of  distinction,  and  ma- 
nifesting the  qualities  of  a  courtier  ;  such  were  the 
companions  of  Ulric's  studies  and  amusements  in  the 
Austrian  capital. 

In  1502,  Zwingle  returned  to  Wildhaus.  While  he 
gazed  on  its  mountains,  he  felt  that  he  had  tasted  of 
the  sweets  of  learning,  and  was  no  longer  able  to  live 
amid  his  brethren's  songs,  and  the  bleatings  of  their 
flocks.  He  was  eighteen.  He  went  to  Balef  to  renew 
his  application  to  study  ;  and  there,  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  master  and  student,  he  taught  in  the  school 
of  St.  Martin,  and  pursued  his  studies  at  the  univer- 
sity. He  could  now  dispense  with  his  father's  succours. 
Shortly  after,  he  took  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts. 
A  native  of  Alsace,  named  Capito,  who  was  nine  years 
older  than  himself,  was  one  of  his  dearest  friends. 

Zwingle  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  scholastic 
theology  ;  for,  called,  as  he  was  at  a  later  period,  to 
combat  its  sophisms,  it  was  necessary  he  should  ex- 
plore its  tangled  labyrinths.  But  often  the  joyous  stu- 
dent of  the  mountains  of  the  Sentis  was  seen  suddenly 
to  shake  off  the  dust  of  the  schools,  and,  exchanging 
its  philosophic  toils  for  amusement,  take  the  lute,  harp, 
violin,  flute,  dulcimer,  or  hunting-horn,  and  pour  forth 
gladsome  sounds,  as  in  the  meadows  of  Lisighaus,  mak- 
ing his  apartment,  or  the  houses  of  his  friends,  echo 
with  the  airs  of  his  beloved  country,  and  accompany- 
ing them  with  his  own  songs.  In  his  love  of  music, 
he  was  a  true  son  of  Tockenburg,  a  master  among 
many.t  He  played  the  instruments  we  have  named, 
and  others  besides.  Enthusiastically  attached  to  the 
art,  he  diffused  a  taste  for  it  through  the  university, 
not  that  he  relished  dissipation,  but  because  he'loved 
relaxation  from  the  fatigue  of  graver  studies,  and  its 
power  of  restoring  him  with  fresh  strength  for  close 
application. §  There  was  no  one  more  cheerful  or  more 
amiable,  or  whose  discourse  had  more  charms. ||  He 
might  have  been  compared  to  a  vigorous  alpine  tree, 

*Wirz,  Helvetische  Kirchen,  Gesch.  vol.  iii.  3S7.  Ans- 
helms  Cronik,  iii.  and  iv.  N9  event  of  that  age  gave  occa- 
sion to  more  publications.  See  Haller's  Biblioth.  der  Schw. 
Gech.iii. 

f  Ne  diutius  ab  exercitio  literarum  cessaret.  (Osw  Myc. 
Vit.  Zw.) 

|  Ich  habe  auch  nie  von  Keinem  gehort,  der  in  der  Kunst 
Musica  .  .  so  erfahren  gewesen.  (B.  Weysen,  Fiisslin  Bey- 
trage  zur  Ref.  Gesch.  iv.  35.) 

^  Ut  ingenium  seriis  defatigatum  recrearetur  et  paratius  ad 
solita  studia  redderetur  .  .  .  (Melch.  Ad.  Vit.  Zw.) 

||  Ingenio  amosnus,  et  ore  jucundus.  supra  quana  dici  possit. 
erat.  (Osw.  Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 


expanding  in  all  its  grace  and  strength,  not  yet 
pruned,  and  sending  forth  its  strong  boughs  on  every 
side.  The  moment  was  destined  to  arrive,  when  these 
branches  would  shoot  upward,  with  renewed  vigour, 
toward  heaven. 

Having  made  his  way  into  scholastic  theology,  he 
returned  weary  and  disgusted  from  these  arid  sands, 
having  found  nothing  but  confused  ideas — a  vain  babble, 
emptiness,  and  barbarism,  without  any  sound  idea  of 
doctrine.  "  It  is  mere  lost  time,"  said  he — and  he 
waited  to  know  more. 

Just  at  that  crisis  (November,  1505,)  arrived  in  Bale, 
Thomas  Wittembach,  son  of  a  burgomaster  of  Bienne. 
Wittembach  had  previously  been  teaching  at  Tubingen 
at  the  same  time  with  Reuchlin.  He  was  in  the  prime 
of  life,  sincere,  pious,  versed  in  the  liberal  sciences,  in 
mathematics,  and  in  the  Holy  Scriptures.  Zwingle 
and  all  the  young  students  immediately  gathered  round 
him.  An  energy  hitherto  unknown  breathed  in  his 
discourses,  and  prophetic  words  proceeded  from  his 
lips.  "  The  time  is  not  far  distant,"  said  he,  "  when 
the  scholastic  theology  will  be  abolished,  and  the  pri- 
mitive teaching  of  the  Church  restored."*  "  The  death 
of  Christ,"  added  he,  "  is  the  only  ransom  of  our 
souls."t  The  heart  of  Zwingle  eagerly  received  those 
seeds  of  life.t 

Among  the  students  who  constantly  attended  the 
lectures  of  the  youthful  Doctor,  was  a  young  man  of 
twenty-three  years  of  age,  of  small  stature,  and  weak 
and  unhealthy  appearance,  but  whose  look  bespoke  at 
once  gentleness  and  intrepidity.  It  was  Leo  Juda,  son 
of  a  curate  of  Alsace,  and  whose  uncle  had  lost  his  life 
at  Rhodes,  under  the  standard  of  its  knights,  for  the 
defence  of  Christendom.  Leo  and  Ulrich  lived  in  the 
closest  intimacy.  Leo  played  the  dulcimer,  and  had  a 
ery  fine  voice.  Often  in  his  apartment  the  two  friends 
of  the  arts  amused  themselves  in  joyous  song.  Leo 
Juda  became  subsequently  Zwingle's  colleague,  and 
death  itself  could  not  terminate  this  sacred  friendship. 

The  situation  of  pastor  of  Glaris  became  vacant  at 
this  period.  Henry  Goldi,  a  young  courtier  in  the 
Pope's  service,  groom  of  his  Holiness's  palfrey,  and 
already  endowed  with  several  benefices,  hastened  to 
Glaris  with  the  Pope's  letter  of  appointment.  But  the 
shepherds  of  Glaris,  proud  of  the  antique  glories  of 
their  race,  and  of  their  struggles  for  liberty,  were  un- 
willing to  bow  their  heads  before  a  parchment  from 
Rome.  Wildhaus  is  not  far  from  Glaris  ;  and  Wesen, 
of  which  Zwingle's  uncle  was  curate,  is  the  place  where 
that  people  hold  their  market.  The  reputation  of  the 
young  master  of  arts  at  Bale  had  penetrated  to  these 
mountains.  The  people  of  Glaris  resolved  to  choose 
Zwingle  for  their  priest.  They  invited  him  in  1506. 
Zwingle,  after  being  ordained  at  Constance  by  the 
bishop,  preached  his  first  sermon  at  Rapper  swill.  On 
St.  Michael's  day  he  read  his  first  mass  at  Witdhaus, 
in  presence  of  all  his  relations  and  the  friends  of  his 
family,  and  toward?  the  close  of  the  year  reached 
Glaris. 

He  immediately  applied  himself  zealously  to  the 
duties  of  his  extensive  parish.  Yet  he  was  but  twenty- 
two  years  of  age,  and  at  times  he  yielded  to  dissipation 
and  the  loose  morality  of  the  age.  As  a  Rornish  priest 
he  was  like  other  priests  all  around  him.  But  even  at 
that  time,  when  as  yet  the  Gospel  had  not  changed  his 
heart,  Zwingle  never  plunged  into  those  scandals  which 
often  grieved  the  Church, $  and  he  constantly  felt  that 

*  Et  doctrinam  Ecclesiae  veterem  .  . .  instaurari  oporteat. 
(Gualterus,  Misc.  Tig.  iii.  102.) 

|  Der  Tod  Christi  sey  die  einige  Bezahlung  fur  unsere 
Sunde.  . .  .  (Fuslin  Beyr.  ii.  268.) 

}  Quum  a  tanto  viro  seminaquaadanv. .  .Zwingliano  pectori 
injecta  essent.  (Leo  Jud.  in  Prgef.  ad.  Ann.  Zw.  in  N.  T.) 

^  Sic  reverentia  pudoris,  imprimis  autem  officii  divini,  per 
petue  cavit  Osw.  Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 


SCHINNER— THE  LABYRINTH-ZWINGLE  IN  ITALY. 


193 


it  was  necessary  to  subject  his  desires  to  the  holy  rule 
of  God's  word. 

A  passion  for  war  at  that  time  disturbed  the  quiet 
valleys  of  Glaris.  There  dwelt  in  those  valleys  whole 
families  of  heroes ;  the  Tschudi,  the  Wala,  the  Aebli, 
whose  blood  had  been  shed  on  the  field  of  battle.  The 
elder  warriors  were  accustomed  to  recount  to  youths 
ever  ready  to  listen  to  such  recitals,  the  events  of  the 
wars  of  Burgundy  and  Suabia,  the  battles  of  St.  James 
and  of  Ragaz.  But,  alas,  it  was  no  longer  against  the 
enemies  of  their  liberty  that  these  martial  shepherds 
took  arms.  They  might  be  seen,  at  the  bidding  of  the 
King  of  France,  of  the  Emperor,  of  the  Duke  of  Milan, 
or  of  the  Pope,  descending  like  an  avalanche  from  the 
Alps,  and  rushing  with  the  noise  of  thunder  against  the 
trained  soldiers  of  the  plain. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century,  a  poor  boy 
named  Matthew  Schinner,  who  was  attending  the  school 
of  Sion,  in  the  Valais,  was  one  day  singing  before  the 
doors,  as  Luther  used  to  do  rather  later,  when  he  heard 
himself  called  by  an  old  man  ;  the  latter  struck  by  the 
liberty  with  which  the  child  answered  his  questions, 
said  in  that  prophetic  accent  which,  say  some,  man 
sometimes  acquires  shortly  before  his  departure  from 
this  world — "  Thou  shalt  be  a  Bishop  and  a  Prince  /"* 
The  prediction  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  young 
mendicant,  and  from  that  moment  an  ambition  the  most 
unbounded  took  possession  of  his  heart.  At  Zurich, 
and  at  Como,  his  progress  in  his  studies  amazed  his 
teachers.  He  was  appointed  curate  in  a  small  parish 
in  the  Valais  ;  rose  rapidly  in  reputation,  and  being 
subsequently  sent  to  Rome  to  solicit  the  Pope's  con- 
firmation of  a  recent  election  of  a  Bishop  of  Sion,  he 
procured  the  bishopric  for  himself,  and  encircled  his 
head  with  the  episcopal  crown.  Ambitious  and  artful, 
yet  not  unfrequently  noble  and  generous,  this  man 
never  regarded  one  dignity  as  anything  but  a  stepping- 
stone  to  a  higher.  Having  tendered  his  services  to 
Louis  XII.  for  a  stipulated  price,  the  King  remarked, 
"It  is  too  much  for  any  one  man." — "I  will  shew 
him,"  replied  the  Bishop  of  Sion,  in  a  passion,  u  that  I 
am  a  man  worth  purchasing  at  the  cost  of  many." 
Accordingly,  he  made  proposals  to  Pope  Julius  II.,  who 
received  his  advances  with  joy  ;  and  Schinner,  in  the 
year  1510,  succeeded  in  uniting  the  whole  Swiss  Con- 
federation with  the  policy  of  that  ambitious  Pontiff. 
The  Bishop  having  been  rewarded  with  a  Cardinal's 
hat,  smiled  to  see  but  a  single  step  between  him  and 
the  papal  throne  itself  ! 

Schinner's  attention  was  continually  engaged  by  the 
Swiss  cantons,  and  as  soon  as  he  discerned  any  man 
of  rising  influence,  he  hastened  to  attach  him  to  his 
interest.  The  pastor  of  Glaris  drew  his  notice  ;  and 
it  was  not  long  before  Zwingle  was  apprized  that  the 
Pope  had  granted  him  an  annual  pension  of  fifty  florins, 
to  encourage  him  in  his  studies.  His  poverty  being 
such  as  did  not  allow  his  purchasing  books,  this  money, 
so  long  as  he  received  it,  was  spent  in  procuring  clas- 
sical and  theological  works  from  Bale.f  Zwingle 
thenceforward  connected  himself  with  the  Cardinal, 
and  thus  became  attached  to  the  Romanist  party. 
Schinner,  and  Julius  II.,  at  length  laid  aside  the  mask. 
Eight  thousand  Swiss,  collected  together  by  the  elo- 
quence of  the  Cardinal  Bishop,  passed  the  Alps  ; — but 
want  of  supplies,  and  the  valour  and  bribes  of  the 
French,  obliged  them  to  retreat  ingloriously  to  their 
mountains.  They  brought  with  them  the  usual  effects 
of  their  foreign  wars — suspicion,  licentiousness,  party 
spirit,  violence,  and  every  kind  of  disorder.  The  citi- 
zens rose  against  their  magistrates,  the  children  against 

*  Helvet.  Kirch.  Oesch.  von  Wire,  iii.  214. 
f  Wellches   er  an   die   Biicher  verwandet.      (Bullinger 
M3C.) 

Aa 


their  fathers — agriculture  and  their  flocks  were  neg- 
lected— and  luxury  and  beggary  increased — the  most 
sacred  ties  were  broken,  arrd  the  Confederacy  seemed 
on  the  point  of  falling  to  pieces. 

Then  it  was  that  the  eyes  of  the  young  curate  of 
Glaris  were  opened,  and  his  indignation  was  awakened. 
His  powerful  voice  was  raised  to  show  the  people  the 
gulf  into  which  they  were  harrying.  In  the  year 
1510,  he  published  his  poem,  entitled  the  Labyrinth. 
Behind  the  mazes  of  that  mysterious  garden,  Minos 
has  concealed  the  Minotaur,  a  monster  half  man  and 
half  bull,  whom  he  feeds  with  the  blood  of  the  Athenian 
youth.  The  Minotaur,  says  Zwingle,  is  the  sin,  the 
irreligion,  and  the  foreign  service  of  the  Swiss  which 
devour  her  children. 

A  brave  man,  Theseus,  undertakes  to  deliver  his 
country  ;  but  many  obstacles  are  in  the  way  ; — first, 
a  lion  with  one  eye  ;  it  is  Spain  and  Arragon  ; — next 
a  crowned  eagle,  with  open  throat ;  it  is  the  Empire  ;— 
then  a  cock  with  crest  erect,  as  if  provoking  to  the 
onset ;  it  is  France.  The  hero,  overcoming  all  these 
obstacles,  slays  the  monster,  and  delivers  his  country. 

"  So  it  is  now,"  exclaims  the  poet,  "  the  people 
wander  in  the  labyrinth  ;  but  being  without  the  clue, 
they  never  return  to  light.  We  nowhere  see  men  fol- 
lowing the  walk  of  Christ.  For  a  breath  of  fame  we 
risk  our  lives — harrass  our  neighbours — rush  into  strifes, 
war,  and  battles  ....  as  if  the  very  furies  had  broken 
loose  from  hell.'** 

A  Thesus  was  needed — a  Reformer ; — Zwingle  saw 
this,  and  from  that  moment  he  had  an  obscure  presen- 
timent of  his  destiny.  Shortly  after  this  he  put  forth 
another  allegory,  in  which  his  meaning  was  more  clearly 
conveyed.f 

In  April,  1512,  the  confederates  again  rose  at  the 
Cardinal's  summons  to  the  rescue  of  the  Church. 
Glaris  was  foremost.  The  whole  commune  was  en- 
rolled for  the  campaign,  and  ranged  under  its  banner 
with  its  Landaman  and  Pastor.  Zwingle  was  com- 
pelled to  join  the  march.  The  army  passed  the  Alps  ; 
and  the  Cardinal  made  his  appearance  among  the  con- 
federates, with  the  Pontiffs  presents — a  ducal  cap, 
adorned  with  pearls  and  gold,  and  surmounted  with  the 
Holy  Spirit,  represented  under  the  figure  of  a  dove. 
The  Swiss  scaled  the  walls  of  the  fortified  towns,  and 
in  the  face  of  the  enemy  swam  the  rivers,  naked,  with 
their  halberds  in  their  arms.  Everywhere  the  French 
were  defeated,  the  bells  and  trumpets  sounded,  people 
flocked  from  all  sides  ;  the  nobles  sent  to  the  army 
wine  and  fruits  in  great  abundance  ;  monks  and  priests 
proclaimed  on  the  roads  that  the  confederates  were 
God's  people,  and  the  avengers  of  the  spouse  of  Christ ; 
while  the  Pope,  a  prophet  similar  to  Caiaphas,  confer- 
red on  the  confederates  the  title  of  "  Defenders  of  the 
Liberty  of  the  Church."t 

This  visit  to  Italy  was  not  without  its  consequences 
to  Zwingle  in  his  vocation  as  a  Reformer.  It  was  on 
his  return  from  this  campaign  that  he  began  to  study 
Greek — "  in  order,"  he  said,  "  to  draw  from  tho  true 
source  the  doctrine  of  Christ."^  "  I  am  resolved  to 
apply  myself  so  closely  to  Greek  (he  wrote  to  Vadian, 
Feb.  23,  1513,)  that  no  one  but  God  shall  call  me  off 
from  that  study."  "  I  do  so  from  a  love  of  divino 
learning,  and  not  for  the  sake  of  fame."  At  a  subse- 
quent period,  a  worthy  priest,  who  had  been  his  school- 

*  Dass  wir  die  hollschen  wutterinn'n 

Mogend  denken  abbrochen  syn. 
(Zw.  Opp.  ed.  Schiller  et  Schulthess,  ii.  part  ii.  250.) 
t  Fabelgedicht  vom  Ochsen  und  etlichen  Thieren,  iez  lou- 
fender  dinge  begriffenlich.     (Ibid.  257.) 

De  Gestis  inter  Gallos  et  Helvetios,  relatio  H.  Zwinglii. 
<j  Ante  decem  annos,  operam  dedi  graecis  literis,  ut  ex  fon 
tibus  doctrinam  Christi  haurire  poasem.    (Zw.  Opp.  1.  274. 
Explan.  Article,  1523.) 


194 


PRINCIPLE  OF  THE  REFORMATION— SWINGLE'S  STUDIES. 


fellow,  having  visited  him — "  Master  Ulrich,"  said  the 
visitor,  "  they  tell  me  you  have  gone  into  the  new  error, 
and  that  you  are  a  follower  of  Luther." — "  I  am  no 
Lutheran,"  said  Zwingle,  "  for  I  understood  Greek 
before  I  had  heard  the  name  of  Luther."*  To  under- 
stand Greek,  and  study  the  Gospel  in  the  original,  was, 
in  Zwingle's  judgment,  the  basis  of  the  Reformation. 

Zwingle  went  beyond  this  early  acknowledgment  of 
the  great  principle  of  Evangelic  Christianity,  namely 
the  unerring  authority  of  Holy  Scripture.  He  further 
saw  the  way  of  determining  the  sense  of  the  Divine 
Word  : — "  Those  persons  have  but  low  thoughts  of  the 
Gospel,  who  regard  whatever  they  think  incompatible 
with  their  reason  as  of  no  consequence,  unnecessary, 
or  unjust. f  Men  are  not  permitted  to  bend  the  Gospel 
according  to  their  pleasure,  to  their  own  interpreta- 
tions."! "  Zwingle  looked  to  heaven,"  says  his  best 
friend,  "  desiring  to  have  no  other  interpreter  than  the 
Holy  Ghost."$ 

Such,  from  the  very  commencement  of  his  career, 
was  the  man  who  has  been  boldly  represented  as  hav- 
ing aimed  to  subject  the  Bible  to  human  reason.  "Phi- 
losophy and  Theology,"  said  he,  "  were  constantly 
raising  difficulties  in  my  mind.  At  length,  I  was 
brought  to  say,  we  must  leave  these  things,  and  en- 
deavour to  enter  into  God's  thoughts  in  his  own  word. 
I  applied  myself,"  continues  he,  "  in  earnest  prayer  to 
the  Lord,  to  give  me  his  light ;  and  though  I  read  no- 
thing but  Scripture,  its  sense  became  clearer  to  me  than 
if  I  had  studied  many  commentators."  He  compared 
Scripture  with  Scripture,  interpreting  obscure  texts  by 
such  as  were  more  clear. II  Ere  long  he  was  tho- 
roughly acquainted  with  the  Bible,  and  especially  with 
the  New  Testament.^  When  Zwingle  thus  turned 
toward  the  Holy  Scriptures,  Switzerland  made  its  ear- 
liest advance  toward  the  Reformation.  Accordingly, 
when  he  expounded  their  meaning,  all  felt  that  his 
teaching  came  from  God,  and  not  from  man.**  "A 
work  altogether  divine  !"  exclaims  Oswald  Myconius  ; 
— "  it  was  in  this  manner  that  we  recovered  the  know- 
ledge of  heavenly  truth." 

Yet  Zwingle  did  not  despise  the  explanations  of  the 
most  celebrated  teachers ;  he  subsequently  studied 
Origen,  Ambrose,  Jerome,  Augustine,  Chrysostom,  but 
never  as  authorities.  "  I  study  the  doctors,"  said  he, 
"just  as  we  ask  a  friend,  How  do  you,  understand 
this  ?"  Holy  Scripture  was,  in  his  judgment,  the  touch- 
stone by  which  the  holiest  doctors  should  themselves 
so  be  tested. ft 

Zwingle's  advance  was  slow  and  progressive.  He 
did  not  arrive  at  truth,  as  Luther  had  done,  by  those 
tempest-shocks,  which  compel  the  soul  hastily  to  seek 
a  refuge ;  he  reached  it  by  the  gentle  influence  of 
Scripture — a  power  which  gradually  subdues  the  heart 
of  man.  Luther  attained  the  wished-for  shore,  after 
struggling  with  the  storms  of  ocean  : — Zwingle,  by 
steering  cautiously  and  slowly  along  the  shore.  They 
are  the  two  leading  methods  by  which  God  conducts 
men.  Zwingle  was  not  fully  converted  to  God  and 
his  Gospel  until  the  early  days  of  his  abode  at  Zurich  ; 

»  Ich  hab'  graecae  konnen,  ehe  ion  ni  nut  von  Luther  gehot 
Uab.  (Salat.  Chronicle,  MSC.) 

\  Nihil  subliming  de  evangelio  sentiunt,  quam  quod,  quid- 
quid  eorum  ration!  non  est  consentaneum,  hoc  iciquum, 
vanum  et  frivolum  existmant.  (Zw.  Opp.  i.  202.) 

\  Nee  posse  evangelium  ad  sensum  et  interpretationem 
hominum  redigi.  (Zvr.  Opp.  i.  215.) 

I  In  coelum  suspexit,  doctorem  quaerens  spiritual.  (Osw. 
Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 

l|  Scripta  contulit  et  obscura  Claris  elucidavit.      (Ibid.) 

IT  In  summa  er  macht  im,  die  H.  Schrifft,  Insonders  dass  N. 
T.  gantz  gemein.  (Bullinger,  MSC.) 

*»  Ut  nemo  non  yideret  Spiritum  doctorem,  non  hominem. 
(Osw.  Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 

ft  Scriptura  canonjca,  seu  Lydio  lapide  probandos.  (Osw. 
Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 


yet  the  moment  when,  in  1514  or  1515,  this  bold  man 
bowed  the  knee  before  God,  co  ask  of  Him  to  enable 
him  to  understand  His  word,  was  that  wherein  appear- 
ed the  dawn  of  the  Day-Star  which  afterward  rose  upon 
him. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  a  poem  of  Erasmus, 
wherein  that  writer  introduced  Jesus  Christ  speaking 
to  one  who  was  perishing  by  his  own  apathy,  produced 
a  deep  impression  on  Zwingle's  thoughts.  Alone  in 
his  room,  he  repeated  to  himself  the  passage  in  which 
Jesus  complained  that  men  came  not  to  him  for  all 
grace,  though  he  was  the  fountain  of  all  blessing. 
"  All  /"  said  Zwingle,  "  All  /"  and  that  word  again 
and  again  recurred  to  his  mind. — "  Are  there  then  any 
created  beings  or  saints,  from  whom  we  should  seek 
help"?  No,  Christ  is  our  only  treasure."* 

Zwingle  did  not  confine  his  reading  to  Christian 
writers.  One  of  the  accompaniments  of  the  Refor- 
mation of  the  sixteenth  century  was  an  attentive  study 
of  the  classics.  Zwingle  delighted  in  the  poerns  of 
Hesiod,  Homer,  and  Pindar,  and  has  left  commentaries 
on  the  two  latter.  He  studied  closely  Cicero  and  De- 
mosthenes, whose  writings  instructed  him  in  oratory 
and  politics.  The  child  of  the  mountains  also  loved 
the  wonders  of  nature  as  reported  by  Pliny  :  Thucy- 
dides,  Sallust,  Livy,  Caesar,  Suetonius,  Plutarch,  and 
Tacitus,  gave  him  an  insight  into  the  affairs  of  life. 
He  has  been  blamed  for  his  enthusiastic  attachment  to 
the  great  names  of  antiquity  ;  and  true  it  is,  that  some 
of  his  expressions  respecting  them  are  not  to  be  justi- 
fied. But,  in  paying  them  so  much  honour,  he  thought 
he  discerned  in  them  not  mere  human  virtues,  but  the 
influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  God's  dealings,  far  from 
being  limited  in  former  ages  to  the  Holy  Land,  ex- 
tended, as  he  thought,  to  the  whole  world. t  "  Plato, 
also,"  said  he,  "  drew  from  a  source  divine  ;  and  if  the 
Catos,  Camillus',  and  Scipios,  had  not  been  deeply 
religious,  could  they  have  acted  so  nobly  as  we  know 
they  did l"t 

Zwingle  diffused  around  him  a  love  of  letters.  Se- 
veral young  persons  of  distinction  were  brought  up  in 
his  school.  "  You  have  offered  me,  not  only  your 
books,  but  yourself,"  wrote  Valentine  Tschudi,  son  of 
one  of  the  heroes  in  the  wars  of  Burgundy  :  and  this 
youth,  who  had  already  studied  at  Vienna  and  Bale, 
under  the  first  masters,  added,  "  I  have  never  met  with 
any  one  who  explains  the  classics  with  so  much  just- 
ness of  thought,  and  depth  of  understanding,  as  your- 
self."^ Tschudi  went  to  Paris,  and  had  an  opportunity 
of  comparing  the  genius  of  its  university  with  that  he 
had  known  in  the  narrow  valley  of  the  Alps,  overlooked 
by  the  gigantic  summits  and  eternal  snows  of  the  Dodi, 
the  Glarnisch,  the  Righi,  and  the  Freyberg.  "  In  what 
trifling  do  they  educate  the  youth  of  France  !"  said 
he,  "no  poison  can  equal  the  sophistical  art  they  are 
trained  in.  It  dulls  the  faculties,  destroys  the  judg- 
ment, and  reduces  to  the  level  of  the  brutes.  It  makes 
a  man  a  mere  echo,  an  empty  sound.  Ten  women 
could  not  compete  with  one  of  such  sophists.il  Even 
in  their  prayers,  I  feel  assured  they  bring  their  sophisms 
to  God  himself,  and  would,  by  syllogisms,  oblige  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  grant  their  petitions."  Such,  at  this 
period,  was  Paris,  the  intellectual  capital  of  Christen- 
dom, contrasted  with  Glaris,  a  market-town  of  shep- 

*  Dass  Christus  unser  armen  seelen  ein  eiuziger  Schatz  sey. 
(Zw  Opp.  i.  298.)  Zwingle  speaking  in  1523,  says  he  read 
this  poem  of  Erasmus  eight  or  nine  years  before. 

t  Spiritns  ille  coelestis  non  solam  Palaestinam  vel  creaverat 
vel  fovebat,  sed  mundum  universum  . .  .  ((Ecol.  et  Zw.  Epp. 
p.  9.) 

|  Nisi  religiosi  nunquam  fuissent  magnanhni.     (Ibid.) 

5)  Nam  qui  sit  acrioris  in  enodandis  autoribus  judicii,  vidi 
neminem.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  13.) 

||  Ut  nee  decem  mulierculae  .  .  uni  sophists  adsequari 
queant.  (Ibid.  45.) 


OSWALD  MYCONIUS— (ECOLAMPADIUS. 


195 


herds  of  the  Alps.  One  gleam  of  light  from  God's 
word  gives  more  true  illumination  than  all  the  wisdom 
of  man. 

A  great  genius  of  that  age,  Erasmus,  exercised  much 
influence  on  Zwingle.  The  moment  any  of  his  writ- 
ings appeared,  Zwingle  hastened  to  procure  it.  In 
1514,  Erasmus  visited  Bale,  and  was  received  by  its 
Bishop  with  every  expression  of  esteem.  All  the 
friends  of  learning  assembled  round  him.  But  the 
monarch  of  the  schools  had  at  once  discovered  the  man 
who  promised  to  be  the  glory  of  Switzerland.  "  I  con- 
gratulate the  Swiss  people,"  said  he,  writing  to  Zwin- 
gle, "  that  you  are  doing  your  best  to  civilize  and  en- 
noble it,  by  studies  and  moral  conduct  alike  worthy  of 
admiration."*  Zwingle  longed  to  see  him.  "  Spa- 
niards and  Gauls  once  made  the  journey  to  Rome  to 
look  on  Titus  Livius,"  said  he,  and — set  out.  Arriv- 
ing at  Bale,  he  there  found  a  man  about  forty  years  of 
age,  of  small  stature,  weak  health,  and  delicate  constitu- 
tion, but  extremely  amiable  and  polite,  t  It  was  Eras- 
mus. The  charm  of  his  intimacy  banished  Zwingle's 
timidity,  and  the  power  of  his  intellect  impressed  him 
with  reverence.  "  As  poor,"  said  Ulrich,  "  as  ^Eschi- 
nes,  when  the  disciples  of  Socrates  each  brought  a  gift 
to  their  master,  I  make  you  the  present  he  made,  and 
give  you  myself" 

Among  the  men  of  learning  who  then  formed  a  kind 
of  court  of  Erasmus — Amerbach,  Rhenanus,  Froben, 
Nessenus,  Glareanus,  and  the  rest — Zwingle  took  no- 
tice of  a  young  native  of  Lucerne,  twenty-seven  years 
of  age,  named  Oswald  Geishiissler.  Erasmus,  trans- 
lating his  name  into  Greek,  had  named  him  Myconius. 
We  shall  often  speak  of  him  by  his  Christian  name, 
to  distinguish  this  friend  of  Zwingle  from  Frederic 
Myconius,  the  disciple  of  Luther.  Oswald,  after  stu- 
dying at  Rothwyl,  with  another  young  man  of  his  own 
age,  named  Berthold  Haller — then  at  Berne,  and  after- 
ward at  Bale — had  become  rector  of  St.  Theodoric's, 
and  still  later  of  St.  Peter's,  school  in  that  city.  Though 
the  humble  schoolmaster  had  but  a  slender  income,  he 
had  married  a  young  girl  of  a  simplicity  and  purity  of 
mind  that  won  all  hearts.  We  have  already  said  that 
it  was  a  time  of  trouble  in  Switzerland  ;  when  foreign 
wars  gave  rise  to  scandalous  disorders,  and  the  soldiers, 
returning  to  their  country,  brought  with  them  habits 
of  licentiousness  and  brutality.  One  winter's  day, 
gloomy  and  overcast,  some  of  these  wretches  attacked 
the  quiet  dwelling  of  Oswald,  in  his  absence.  They 
assaulted  the  door,  threw  stones,  and  with  indecent 
language  called  for  his  wife.  At  last,  they  burst  open 
the  door,  and  having  made  their  way  to  his  school,  broke 
everything  in  the  place,  and  then  retired.  Shortly 
after,  Oswald  returned.  His  son,  little  Felix,  ran  to 
meet  him  with  loud  cries ;  and  his  wife,  speechless, 
made  signs  of  horror.  In  a  moment,  he  perceived 
what  had  happened.  At  the  same  instant,  a  noise  was 
heard  in  the  street.  Unable  to  control  himself,  the 
schoolmaster  seized  a  weapon,  and  pursued  the  rioters 
to  the  cemetery.  They  took  refuge  within  it  and  pre- 
pared to  resist.  Three  of  them  rushed  upon  Myco- 
nius, and  wounded  him ;  and,  while  his  wounds  were 
being  dressed,  the  wretches  again  broke  into  his  house, 
with  horrid  cries.  Oswald  tells  no  more.t  Such  were 
the  scenes  which  took  place  in  Switzerland,  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  sixteenth  century,  before  the  Reforma- 
tion had  humanized  the  manners  of  the  people. 

The  uprightness  of  Oswald  Myconius,  and  his  de- 
sire of  learning  and  virtue,  brought  him  into  contact 

*  Tu  tuique  similes  optimis  etiam  studiis  ac  moribus  et  ex- 
polietis  et  nobilitabitis.  (Zw  Epp.  p.  10.) 

t  Et  corpusculo  hoc  tuo  minuto,  verum  minime  inconcinno, 
urbanissime  gestientem  videre  videar.  (Ibid.) 

\  Erasmi,  Laus  Stultitise,  cum  annot.    Myconti. 


with  Zwingle.  The  rector  of  the  school  of  Bale  at 
once  acknowledged  the  superior  genius  of  the  curate 
of  Glaris.  In  unaffected  humility  he  shrunk  from  the 
praises  of  Zwingle  and  Erasmus.  "  You  schoolmas- 
ters," the  latter  would  often  say,  "  are,  in  my  opinion, 
equal  to  kings."  But  the  modest  Myconius  was  of  a 
different  judgment.  "  I  do  but  creep  upon  the  earth," 
said  he  ;  "  from  my  childhood  there  has  been  a  some- 
thing low  and  small  about  me."* 

A  preacher  who  had  arrived  in  Bale,  almost  at  the 
same  time  as  Zwingle,  was  then  exciting  attention. 
Of  mild  and  peaceful  temper,  he  loved  a  tranquil  life ; 
slow  and  circumspect  in  his  actions,  he  was  most  hap- 
py in  studious  occupations,  and  in  endeavours  to  pro- 
mote good  will  among  Christians,  f  He  was  named 
John  Hansschein,  in  Greek,  (Ecolampadius,  or  "  light 
of  the  house,"  and  was  born  in  Franconia,  of  rich  pa- 
rents, one  year  before  the  birth  of  Zwingle.  His  pious 
mother  wished  to  devote  to  learning  and  to  God  him- 
self the  only  child  that  Providence  had  left  her.  His 
father  at  first  destined  him  to  commerce,  and  afterward 
to  jurisprudence  ;  but  on  OEcolampadius's  return  from 
Bologna,  (where  he  had  studied  law,)  the  Lord,  whose 
purpose  it  was  to  make  him  a  light  in  the  Church, 
called  him  to  the  study  of  Theology.}  He  was  preach- 
ing in  his  native  town,  when  Capito,  who  had  made  his 
acquaintance  at  Heidelberg,  obtained  his  election  as 
preacher  at  Bale.  He  there  proclaimed  Christ,  with 
an  eloquence  which  was  the  admiration  of  his  hearers.^ 
Erasmus  admitted  Rim  to  intimacy.  CEcolampadius 
was  charmed  with  the  hours  he  spent  in  the  society  of 
this  distinguished  genius.  "  We  must  seek,"  said  the 
prince  of  scholars,  "  we  must  seek  but  one  thing  in 
Holy  Scripture,  namely,  Jesus  Christ."||  He  present- 
ed to  the  young  preacher,  in  token  of  his  friendship,  the 
first  chapters  of  St.  John's  Gospel.  CEcolampadius 
would  often  kiss  this  pledge  of  so  valued  a  friendship, 
and  appended  it  to  his  crucifix,  "  in  order,"  said  he, 
"  that  I  may  always  remember  Erasmus  in  my  prayers." 

Zwingle  returned  to  his  mountain-home  with  his 
mind  and  heart  full  of  all  he  had  seen  and  heard  at 
Bale.  "  I  should  not  be  able  to  sleep,"  said  he,  writ- 
ing to  Erasmus,  "  without  holding  some  discourse  with 
you.  There  is  nothing  I  am  so  proud  of  as  having  seen 
Erasmus."  Zwingle  had  received  a  new  impulsion. 
Such  visits  have  at  times  great  effects  on  a  Christian's 
conduct.  The  disciples  of  Zwingle,  Valentin,  Jost, 
Louis,  Peter,  and  Egidius  Tschudi ;  his  friends,  the 
bailiff,  Aebli,  the  curate,  Binzli,  of  Wesen,  Fridolin 
Brunner,  and  the  celebrated  professor  Glareanus,  were 
delighted  to  watch  his  growth  in  wisdom  and  know- 
ledge. The  old  respected  him  as  a  courageous  defen- 
der of  his  country ; — the  faithful  pastors  as  a  zealous 
minister  of  the  Lord.  Nothing  was  transacted  in  the 
country  without  his  advice.  All  the  better  sort  looked 
to  him  as  destined  one  day  to  restore  the  ancient  virtues 
of  their  country.lT 

Francis  the  First  having  ascended  the  throne,  and 
preparing  to  avenge  on  Italy  the  honour  of  France,  the 
Pope  in  alarm,  sought  to  gain  over  the  cantons.  Thus, 
in  1515,  Ulrich  again  saw  the  plains  of  Italy  covered 
by  the  battalions  of  his  fellow-countrymen.  But  the 


*  Equidem  humi  repere  didici  hactenus,  et  estnaturanescio 
quid  humile  vel  a  cunabulis  in  me.  (Osw.  Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 

t  Ingenio  miti  et  tranquillo,  pacis  et  concordiae  studiosissi. 
mus.  (M.  Ad.  Vit.  CEc.  p.  58.) 

\  Flectente  et  vocante  Deo,  qui  eo  in  domo  sua  pro  lampade 
usurus  erat.  (Ibid.  46.) 

§  Omnium  vere  spiritualium  et  eruditorum  admirations 
Christum  predicavit.  (Ibid.) 

||  Nihil  in  sacris  literis  praeter  Christum  quaerendum.  (Eras- 
mi,  Epp.  p.  403.) 

1T  Justitiam  avitam  per  hunc  olim  restltutum  iri,  (Osw. 
Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 


196 


ZWINGLE  AT  MARIGNAN— DAWN  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


discord  which  the  intrigues  of  the  French  introduced 
among  the  army  of  the  confederates  grieved  his  spirit. 
Often  might  he  be  seen,  in  the  midst  of  the  camp,  ha- 
ranguing, in  words  of  energy  and  wisdom,  an  audience 
armed  from  head  to  foot  and  ready  for  battle.*  On  the 
8th  of  September,  five  days  before  the  battle  of  Marig- 
nan,  he  preached  in  the  square  of  Monza,  where  the 
Swiss  troops  who  adhered  to  their  standards  were  as- 
sembled. "  If  the  advice  of  Zwingle  had  then  been 
followed,"  says  Werner  Steiner,  of  Zug,  "  what  mise- 
ries would  our  country  have  been  spared !"  But  all 
ears  were  closed  against  the  accents  of  concord,  peace, 
and  submission.  The  overpowering  eloquence  of  the 
Cardinal  Schinner  electrified  the  confederates,  and  made 
them  rush  impetuously  to  the  fatal  plains  of  Marignan. 
The  flower  of  the  Swiss  youth  perished.  Zwingle, 
who  had  failed  in  his  attempts  to  avert  these  calamities, 
exposed  himself  in  the  cause  of  Rome  to  the  greatest 
danger.  His  hand  grasped  a  sword  !t  Melancholy 
mistake  of  Zwingle.  He,  a  minister  of  Christ,  more 
than  once  forgot  that  it  was  his  duty,  to  fight  only  with 
the  weapons  of  the  Spirit,  and  he  was  doomed  to  see 
accomplished  in  his  own  case  in  a  most  striking  man- 
ner, that  prophecy  of  the  Lord,  They  that  take  the  sword 
shall  perish  by  the  sword. 

Zwingle  and  the  Swiss  failed  to  save  Rome  from 
defeat.  The  Venetian  ambassador,  at  the  court  of 
Rome,  was  the  first  to  learn  the  news  of  the  defeat  at 
Marignan.  Overjoyed,  he  repaired  early  to  the  Vati- 
can. The  Pope  left  his  apartments,  though  scarcely 
attired,  to  give  him  audience.  Leo  the  Tenth,  on 
hearing  the  intelligence,  made  no  secret  of  his  fears. 
In  a  moment  of  alarm,  he  saw  nothing  but  Francis  the 
First,  and  lost  all  hope  : — "  My  lord  ambassador,"  said 
he,  tremblingly,  to  Zorsi,  "  we  must  throw  ourselves 
into  the  king's  arms,  and  cry  for  mercy."  Luther  and 
Zwingle,  when  in  circumstances  of  peril,  knew  another 
refuge,  and  invoked  another  mercy.J 

This  second  visit  to  Italy  was  not  unattended  with 
advantage  to  Zwingle.  He  took  notice  of  the  differ- 
ences between  the  Ambrosian  ritual,  in  use  at  Milan, 
and  that  of  Rome.  He  collected,  and  compared  with 
each  other,  the  most  ancient  canons  of  the  Mass. 
Thus  his  spirit  of  inquiry  found  employment  amid  the 
tumult  of  camps.  At  the  same  time,  the  sight  of  the 
children  of  his  native  land,  drawn  from  their  mountains, 
and  delivered  up  to  slaughter,  like  their  cattle,  filled 
him  with  indignation.  "  The  blood  of  the  confede- 
rates," said  he,  "  is  counted  of  less  value  than  their 
sheep  and  oxen."  The  faithlessness  and  ambition  of 
the  pope$ — the  avarice  and  ignorance  of  the  clergy — 
the  licentiousness  and  immorality  of  the  monks — the 
pride  and  luxury  of  the  prelates — the  corruption  and 
venality  that  spread  on  all  sides  among  his  countrymen 
— all  these  evils  were  forced  more  than  ever  on  his 
notice,  and  helped  to  deepen,  more  than  ever,  his  con- 
viction of  the  necessity  of  a  reformation  in  the  Church. 

Zwingle,  from  that  time,  preached  the  word  of  God 
with  more  distinctness.  He  expounded  the  portions 
of  the  Gospels  and  Epistles  chosen  for  public  worship  ; 
ever  comparing  Scripture  with  Scripture.il  He  spoke 
with  force  and  animation,!  and  pursued,  with  his  audi- 

*  In  dem  Heerlager  hat  er  Flyssig  geprediget.  (Bullinger 
MSC.) 

t  ...  In  den  Schlachten  sich  redlich  und  dapfer  gestellt 
mit  Rathen,  Worten  und  Thaten.  (Bullinger,  MSC.) 

\  Domine  orator,  vederemo  quel  fara  il  re  Christmo  semet- 
terremo  in  le  so  man  dimandando  misericordia.  (Zorsi  Re- 
latione  MS.) 

§  Bellissimo  parlador :  (Leo  X.)  prometea  assa  ma  non  aten- 
dea  .  .  .  (Relatione  MSC.  di  Gradenigo,  venuto  orator  di 
Roma.) 

l|  Non  hominum  commentis,  sed  sola  scripturarum  biblica- 
rum  collatione.  (Zw.  Opp.  i.  273.) 

IF  Sondern  auch  mit  predigen,  dorrinen  er  helftig  wass. 
(Bullinger's  MS.) 


tors,  the  same  course  that  God  was  pursuing  with 
him.  He  did  not  expose,  as  Luther  did,  the  wounds 
of  the  Church  ;  but,  according  as  his  study  of  the 
Bible  discovered  to  him  any  profitable  instruction,  he 
imparted  it  to  his  flock.  He  laboured  to  persuade  them 
to  receive  the  truth  into  their  hearts ;  and  then  de- 
pended upon  it  for  the  effect  it  was  destined  to  pro- 
duce.* "  If  the  people  see  clearly  what  is  true,'* 
thought  he,  "  they  will  at  once  discern  what  is  false." 
— This  maxim  is  good  in  the  commencement  of  a  re- 
formation, but  a  time  arrives  when  error  must  be  boldly 
denounced.  Zwingle  well  knew  this.  "  The  spring," 
said  he,  "  is  the  season  for  sowing  our  seed." — It  wa* 
then  seed  time  with  him. 

Zwingle  has  marked  this  period  as  the  dawn  of  the 
Swiss  Reformation.  Four  years  before,  he  had  bent 
over  God's  book ;  and  he  now  raised  his  head,  and 
turned  toward  the  people  to  impart  to  them  the  light 
he  had  received  from  it.  It  was  a  new  and  important 
epoch,  in  the  development  of  the  religious  revolution 
of  these  countries  ;  but  it  is  a  mistaken  conclusion  to 
infer  that  Zwingle's  reformation  preceded  Luther's. 
Zwingle  may  possibly  have  preached  the  Gospel  a 
year  previous  to  the  theses  of  Luther,  but  the  Gospel 
was  preached  by  Luther  himself,  four  years  before  those 
celebrated  propositions.  If  Luther  and  Zwingle  had 
done  nothing  but  preach,  the  Reformation  would  not 
have  so  soon  spread  through  the  Church.  The  one 
and  the  other  was  neither  the  first  monk,  nor  the  first 
priest  who  taught  a  purer  doctrine  than  the  scholastic 
teachers  :  but  Luther  was  the  first  who  boldly  and 
publicly  raised  the  standard  of  truth  against  prevailing 
error,  and  invited  general  attention  to  the  fundamental 
doctrine  of  the  Gospel,  salvation  by  grace  ;  thus  intro- 
ducing his  generation  to  that  path  of  knowledge,  faith, 
and  life,  from  which  a  new  world  has  arisen,  and  com- 
mencing a  real  and  saving  change.  The  great  battle, 
of  which  the  signal  was  given  in  the  theses  of  1517, 
was  the  true  parent  of  the  Reformation,  and  gave  to 
it  both  its  soul  and  its  form.  Luther  was  the  earliest 
of  the  Reformers. 

A  spirit  of  inquiry  was  beginning  to  breathe  on  the 
Swiss  mountains.  One  day,  the  curate  of  Glaris,  being 
in  the  lovely  country  of  Mollis,  at  the  house  of  Adam, 
the  curate  of  the  place,  in  company  with  Binzli,  the  curate 
of  Wesen,  and  Varchon,  curate  of  Kerensen,  the  party 
of  friends  found  an  old  liturgy,  in  which  they  read  these 
words — "After  the  child  is  baptized,  the  sacrament  of 
the  Lord's  Supper  and  the  cup  is  to  be  given  him."t 
— "  Then,"  remarked  Zwingle,  "  the  Supper  was,  at 
that  time,  given  under  both  kinds  !"  The  liturgy  in 
question  was  about  two  centuries  old.  This  was  a 
grand  discovery  for  the  priests  of  the  Alps. 

The  defeat  at  Marignan  produced  the  consequences 
that  were  to  be  expected  in  the  remoter  cantons.  The 
victorious  Francis  I.  lavished  gold  and  flattery  to  win 
over  the  confederates  ;  and  the  emperor  adjured  them 
by  their  honour,  by  the  tears  of  widows  and  orphans, 
and  the  blood  of  their  brethren,  not  to  sell  their  ser- 
vices to  their  murderers.  The  French  party  prevailed 
in  Glaris,  and  his  residence  in  the  country  became, 
from  that  time,  a  burden  to  Ulrich. 

At  Glaris,  Zwingle  might  have  remained  a  man  of 
his  own  age.  Party  intrigue,  political  prejudices,  the 
empire,  France,  the  duke  of  Milan,  might  have  almost 
absorbed  his  life.  God  never  leaves  in  the  tumult  of 
the  world  those  whom  he  is  training  for  the  people, 
He  leads  them  aside — he  sets  them  in  solitude,  where 
they  may  feel  themselves  in  his  presence,  and  gather 

*  Volebat  veritatem  cognitam,  in  cordibus  auditorum,  agerc 
suum  officium.  (Osw.  Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 

•f  Detur  Eucharistiae  sacramentnm,  similiter  poculum  san» 
guinis.  (Zw.  Opp.  i.  266.) 


OUR  LADY  AT  EINSIDLEN— A  LEARNED  SOCIETY. 


197 


inexhaustible  instruction.  The  Son  of  God  himself, 
the  type  in  that  particular  of  his  dealings  with  his 
servants,  passed  forty  days  in  the  desert.  The  time 
had  come  when  Zwingle  was  to  be  delivered  from  the 
turmoil  of  his  political  agitation,  which  by  constanl 
passage  through  his  soul  would  have  quenched  the 
spirit  of  God.  It  was  time  that  he  should  be  disci- 
plined for  another  stage  than  that  whereon  figured 
courtiers  and  factions,  and  on  which  he  might  have 
been  tempted  to  waste  an  energy  worthy  of  better 
aims.  His  country  stood  in  need  of  a  very  different 
service.  It  was  necessary  that  a  new  life  should  at 
this  time  descend  from  heaven,  and  that  he  who  was 
to  be  the  instrument  in  communicating  it  to  others 
should  himself  unlearn  the  things  of  time.  These  two 
spheres  are  entirely  distinct ;  a  wide  space  separates 
these  two  worlds :  and  before  passing  from  the  one  to  the 
other,  Zwingle  was  to  halt  for  a  while  on  a  neutral 
territory,  a  middle  and  preparatory  ground,  there  to  be 
taught  of  God.  God  at  this  time  took  him  from  the 
centre  of  the  factions  of  Glaris,  and  led  him,  for  his 
noviciate,  to  the  solitude  of  a  hermitage.  Thus  was 
the  hopeful  promise  of  the  Reformation,  which,  ere 
long,  was  to  be  transplanted  to  another  soil,  and  to 
cover  the  mountains  with  its  shadow,  shut  up  in  the 
narrow  enclosure  of  the  walls  of  an  abbey. 

About  the  middle  of  the  ninth  century,  a  wayfaring 
monk,  Meinrad  of  Hohenzollern,  had  passed  between 
the  lakes  of  Zurich  and  Wallstetten,  and  resting  on  a 
little  hill  in  front  of  an  amphitheatre  of  fir-trees,  had 
constructed  there  his  cell.  Outlaws  had  imbrued  their 
hands  in  the  blood  of  the  saint.  For  a  long  time  the 
blood-stained  cell  was  deserted.  But  toward  the  end 
of  the  tenth  century,  a  convent  and  church,  in  honour 
of  the  virgin,  was  built  on  this  sacred  spot.  On  the 
eve  of  the  day  appointed  for  its  consecration,  the  bishop 
of  Constance  and  his  priests  were  at  prayers  in  the 
church  —  when  a  heavenly  chant,  proceeding  from 
some  invisible  beings,  suddenly  resounded  in  the  chapel. 
They  listened  prostrate  and  amazed.  Next  day  as  the 
bishop  was  about  to  consecrate  the  chapel,  a  voice 
three  times  repeated,  u  Stop  !  Stop  !  God  himself  has 
consecrated  it."*  Christ  in  person,  it  was  said,  had 
pronounced  his  blessing  on  it  during  the  night ;  the 
hymns  heard  were  those  of  the  angels,  apostles,  and 
saints  ;  and  the  virgin  had  appeared  for  an  instant  like 
a  flash  of  lightning  on  the  altar.  A  bull  of  Leo  VIII. 
forbade  the  faithful  to  doubt  the  truth  of  this  legend- 
ary tale.  From  that  time  a  vast  crowd  of  pilgrims 
poured  incessantly  to  our  lady  of  the  Eremites  for  the 
consecration  of  the  angels.  Delphi  and  Ephesus  in 
former  ages,  and  Loretto  in  modern  times,  have  alone 
equalled  the  renown  of  Einsidlen,  It  was  in  this 
singular  scene  that  Ulrich  Zwingle  was,  in  1516,  called 
to  be  priest  and  preacher. 

Zwingle  did  not  hesitate.  "I  am  neither  swayed 
by  ambition,  nor  the  love  of  gain,"  said  he,  "  but  driven 
by  the  intrigues  of  the  French."!  Motives  of  a  higher 
kind  concur  to  decide  him.  On  the  one  hand  being 
more  retired,  having  more  quiet,  and  a  charge  of  less 
extent,  he  will  have  more  time  for  study  and  medita- 
tion. On  the  other  hand,  this  resort  of  pilgrims 
will  afford  him  opportunity  for  diffusing  to  the  most 
distant  lands  the  knowledge  of  Christ.J 

The  friends  of  the  gospel  at  Glaris  loudly  expressed 
their  grief.  "  What  worse  could  have  befallen  Glaris," 
said  Peter  Tschudi,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  citi- 

*  Cessa,  cessa  frater,  divinitus  cappella  consecrata  est. 
Hartm.  Annal.  Einsidl.  p.  61. 

t  Locum  mutavimus  non  cupidinis  aut  cupiditatis  moti  sti- 
jnulis,  verum  Gallorum  technis.  (Zw.  Epp.  24.) 

|  Christum  et  ejus  veritatem  in  regiones  et  varias  et  rcmo- 
tas  divulgari  tarn  felici  opportuniate.  (Osw.  Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 


zens  of  the  canton,  "  than  to  lose  so  valuable  a  man."* 
His  parishioners,  seeing  his  inflexibility,  resolved  to 
continue  to  him  the  name  of  pastor  of  Glaris,  with  a 
part  of  the  stipend,  and  the  power  of  returning  to 
it  whenever  he  would,  t 

Conrad,  of  Reichberg,  a  gentleman  descended  from 
an  ancient  family,  of  serious,  open-hearted  intrepid, 
and  sometimes  stern  manners,  was  one  of  the  best 
known  huntsmen  of  the  country  whither  he  was  going. 
He  had  established  on  one  of  his  estates  a  stud  for  the 
breeding  of  horses,  which  became  famous  in  Italy. 
This  man  was  the  abbot  of  our  lady  of  the  Eremites. 
Reichberg  held  in  equal  aversion  the  pretensions  of 
Rome,  and  theological  controversy.  When  one,  on 
occasion  of  a  visitation  of  the  order,  made  some  re- 
marks :  "  I  am  master  here  and  not  you,"  answered 
he  abruptly  ;  "  go  about  your  business.,'  Another 
time,  when  Leo  Juda  was  discussing  some  subject  at 
table  with  the  administrator  of  the  convent,  the  hunting 
abbot  exclaimed  :  "  Let  me  put  an  end  to  your  disput- 
ings  :  I  say,  with  David — Have  mercy  upon  me,  0  God  I 
according  to  thy  loving  kindness  :  Enter  not  into 
judgment  with  thy  servant !  and  I  want  to  know 
nothing  more."t 

The  baron  Theobald  de  Geroldsek  was  administra- 
tor of  the  monastery.  He  was  of  mild  character,  sin- 
cerely pious,  and  fond  of  learning.  His  favourite 
scheme  was  to  collect  in  his  convent  a  society  of  learn- 
ed men.  With  this  view  he  had  invited  Zwingle. 
Eager  for  instruction,  he  entreated  his  new  friend  to 
direct  his  studies.  "  Read  the  Holy  Scriptures," 
answered  Zwingle,  "  and  for  the  better  understanding 
them,  consult  St.  Jerome."  "  And  yet,"  he  continued, 
1  a  time  is  coming  (and  soon  too,  with  God's  help,) 
when  Christians  will  think  little  of  St.  Jerome  or  any 
other  teacher,  but  the  word  of  God."$  The  conduc 
of  Geroldsek  exhibited  evidence  of  his  progress  in  the 
faith.  He  gave  permission  to  the  nuns  of  a  nunnery 
attached  to  Einsidlen  to  read  the  bible  in  the  vulgar 
tongue,  and  some  years  after  he  took  up  his  abode  at 
Zurich,  in  Zwingle's  neighbourhood,  and  died  on  the 
plain  of  Cappel.  The  same  attraction  soon  united  to 
Zwingle  the  worthy  GExlin,  Lucas,  and  other  inmates 
of  the  abbey  walls.  These  studious  men,  remote  from 
the  clamours  of  party,  were  accustomed  to  read  toge- 
ther the  Sriptures,  the  fathers,  the  masterpieces  of 
antiquity,  and  the  writings  of  the  restorers  of  learning. 
It  often  happened  that  friends  from  distant  parts  joined 
their  interesting  circle.  One  day  Capito,  among 
others,  arrived  on  a  visit  to  Einsidlen.  The  two 
friends,  renewing  the  connexion  formed  at  Baden, 
together  went  round  the  convent  and  its  wild  environs, 
absorbed  in  conversation  touching  the  Scripture  and 
the  will  of  God.  On  one  point  they  were  agreed — it 
was  that  the  pope  must  fall !  Capito  was  at  that  time 
a  braver  man  than  he  was  at  a  later  date. 

In  this  quiet  retreat,  Zwingle  had  rest,  leisure,  books, 
and  friends  ;  and  he  grew  in  understanding  arid  in 
"aith.  Then  it  was  (May  1507,)  that  he  applied  him- 
self to  a  task  that  was  very  useful  to  him.  As  in 
early  times,  the  kings  of  Israel  with  their  own  hands 
transcribed  the  law  of  God,  so  Zwingle  copied  out  the 
epistles  of  St.  Paul.  There  were  then  none  but  cum- 
brous editions  of  the  New  Testament,  and  Zwingle 
wished  to  be  able  to  carry  it  always  about  him.ll  He 

*  Quid  enim  Glareanae  nostrae  tristius  accidere  poterat, 
anto  videlicit  privari  viro.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  16.) 

t  For  two  years  after  this,  Zwingle  still  signed  himself: 
Pastor  Glaronae,  Minister  Eremi.  (Ibid.) 

\  Wirz,  K.  Gesch,  Hi.  363.  Zwinelis  Bildung  v.  Schiiler.p. 
74.  Miscell.  Tigur.  iii.28. 

5)  Fore,  idque  brevi,  Deo  sic  juvante,  ut  neque  Hieronymua 
neque  cjeteri,  sed  sola  scriptura  divini  apud  Christianos  in, 
>raetio  sit  futura.  (Zw.  Opp.  i.  273.) 

"  This  manuscript  is  in  the  library  of  Zurich. 


198 


ZWINGLE  OPPOSES  ERROR— HIS  PREACHING— THE  LEGATES. 


learned  by  heart  the  whole  of  the  epistles  ;  then  the 
remaining  books  of  the  New  Testament ;  and  after  tha 
portions  of  the  Old.  Thus  did  his  heart  cleave  more 
and  more  to  the  supreme  authority  of  God's  word 
Not  satisfied  with  acknowledging  its  supremacy,  h< 
formed  the  resolution  to  subject  his  life  to  it  in  since 
rity.  Gradually  his  walk  became  in  every  thing  more 
Christian.  The  purpose  for  which  he  had  been  broughi 
into  this  wilderness  was  then  accomplishing.  Doubt- 
less it  was  not  till  his  visit  to  Zurich,  that  the  Chris- 
tian life  penetrated  his  soul  with  power  ;  but  already 
at  Einsidlen  his  progress  in  sanctification  was  evident 
At  Glaris  he  had  been  seen  to  take  part  in  worldly 
amusements  ;  at  Einsidlen  he  was  more  noticeable  for 
purity  of  manners,  and  freedom  from  every  stain,  anc 
from  every  kind  of  worldliness :  he  began  to  see  the 
great  spiritual  interests  of  the  people,  and  by  slow  d 
grees  learned  what  God  would  teach  him. 

Providence  had,  besides,  other  purposes  in  bringing 
him  to  Einsidlen.  He  was  to  have  a  nearer  view  of 
the  superstitions  and  corruptions  which  had  invaded  the 
church.  The  image  of  the  Virgin,  carefully  preserved 
in  the  monastery,  it  was  alleged,  had  the  power  of 
working  miracles.  Over  the  gate  of  the  abbey  might 
be  read  this  pompous  inscription  :  "  Here  may  be  ob- 
tained complete  remission  of  sins."  A  multitude  of 
pilgrims,  from  all  parts  of  Christendom,  flocked  to  Ein- 
sidlen, that  they  might  obtain  this  grace  for  their  pil- 
grimage. The  church,  the  abbey,  the  whole  valley 
was  crowded,  on  occasion  of  the  fete  of  the  Virgin, 
with  her  devout  worshippers.  But  it  was  especially  on 
the  grand  fete  of  the  consecration  of  the  angels,  that 
the  crowd  thronged  the  hermitage.  Long  files,  to  the 
number  of  several  thousands  of  both  sexes,  climbed  the 
steep  sides  of  the  mountain  leading  to  the  oratory,  singing 
hymns,  or  counting  the  beads  of  their  chaplets.  These< 
vout  pilgrims  forced  their  way  into  the  church,  believing 
themselves  nearer  to  God  there  than  anywhere  else. 

Zwingle's  residence  at  Einsidlen  had  similar  effects 
to  those  attending  Luther's  visit  to  Rome,  in  admit- 
ting him  to  a  closer  view  of  the  corruptions  of  the  pa- 
pacy. It  was  there  his  education,  as  a  reformer,  was 
completed.  The  seriousness  his  soul  had  acquired, 
soon  manifested  itself  in  outward  action.  Affected  at 
the  sight  of  so  many  evils,  he  resolved  to  oppose  them 
energetically.  He  did  not  falter  between  his  conscience 
and  his  interest.  He  boldly  stood  up,  and  his  powerful 
eloquence  fearlessly  attacked  the  superstition  of  the 
crowd  that  surrounded  him.  "  Think  not,"  said  he, 
speaking  from  his  pulpit,  "  that  God  is  in  this  temple 
more  than  in  any  other  part  of  creation.  Wherever 
he  has  fixed  your  dwelling  he  encompasses  you,  and 
hears  you,  as  much  as  at  our  lady  at  Einsidlen.  What 
power  can  there  be  in  unprofitable  works,  weary  pil- 
grimages, offerings,  prayers  to  the  Virgin,  and  the  saints, 
to  secure  you  the  favour  of  God  ?  What  signifies  the 
multiplying  of  words  in  prayer  ?  what  efficacy  in  the 
cowl,  or  shaven  crown,  or  priestly  garments,  falling, 
and  adorned  with  gold  ?  God  looks  upon  the  heart — 
and  our  heart  is  far  off  from  God."* 

But  Zwingle  was  resolved  to  do  more  than  resist 
superstition ;  he  sought  to  satisfy  the  ardent  desire  after 
a  reconciliation  with  God,  which  urged  on  some  of  the 
pilgrims  that  flocked  to  the  chapel  of  our  Lady  of  Ein- 
sidlen. "  Christ,"  he  cried,  like  the  Baptist  from  ano- 
ther wilderness  of  Judea,  "  Christ,  who  offered  himself 
on  the  cross,  once  for  all,  is  the  sacrifice  and  victim 
which  satisfies  for  all  eternity,  for  the  sins  of  all  be- 
lievers.''! Thus  Zwingle  went  forward.  From  the 
*  Vestis  oblonga  et  plicis  plena,  muli  auro  ornati . . .  Cor 
voro  interim  procula  a  Deo  est.  (Zw.  Opp.  i.  236.) 

t  Christus  qui  sese  semel  in  cruce  obtulit,  hostia  est  et  vie- 
lima  satisfaciens  in  seternum.  pro  peccatis  omnium  fidelium. 
(Ibid.  263.) 


hour  when  so  bold  a  style  of  preaching  was  heard  in 
the  most  venerated  sanctuary  in  Switzerland,  the  ban- 
ner of  resistance  to  Rome  was  more  distinctly  visible 
above  its  mountains  ;  and  there  was  a  kind  of  earth- 
quake of  Reformation,  which  moved  its  very  founda- 
tions. 

In  truth,  an  universal  astonishment  took  possession 
of  men's  minds,  at  the  sound  of  the  eloquent  priest's 
sermons.  Some  withdrew  with  horror  ;  others  fluctu- 
ated between  the  faith  of  their  fathers  and  the  doctrine 
that  was  to  give  them  peace.  Many  were  led  to  that 
Jesus  who  was  declared  to  be  full  of  mercy,  and  took 
away  with  them  the  tapers  they  had  brought  to  pre- 
sent to  the  Virgin.  A  crowd  of  pilgrims  returned  to 
their  native  places,  everywhere  announcing  the  tidings 
they  had  heard  at  Einsidlen.  "  Christ  alone  saves  us, 
and  he  saves  everywhere!"  It  often  happened  that 
troops  of  pilgrims,  astonished  at  what  they  thus  heard 
recounted,  turned  back  without  completing  their  pil- 
grimage. The  worshippers  of  Mary  were  every  day 
fewer.  It  was  from  their  offerings  that  the  revenue 
of  Zwingle  and  Geroldsek  was  drawn.  But  the  bold 
witness  for  the  truth  was  too  happy  to  see  himself  im- 
poverished, while  thus,  spiritually,  making  many  rich. 

On  Easter  Sunday,  1518,  among  the  numerous  hear- 
ers of  Zwingle,  was  a  learned  man,  of  gentle  charac- 
ter and  active  charity,  named  Gaspard  Hedio,  a  doctor 
of  divinity  at  Bale.  Zwingle  preached  on  the  history 
of  the  man  taken  with  palsy  (Luke  v.,)  in  which  occurs 
our  Lord's  declaration  :  "  The  Son  of  Man  hath  power 
on  earth  to  forgive  sins,"  a  passage  well  suited  to 
strike  the  crowd  assembled  in  the  church  of  the  Virgin. 
The  preacher's  discourse  moved,  delighted,  and  in- 
spired the  whole  assembly  ;  and,  in  an  especial  man- 
ner, the  Doctor  of  Bale.*  Long  afterward,  Hedio 
would  express  his  admiration  :  "  How  beautiful  and 
profound  !  how  grave  and  convincing  !  how  moving, 
and  agreeable  to  the  Scriptures,  was  that  discourse !" 
said  he.  "  How  it  reminds  one  of  the  evepyeta,  (force,) 
of  the  ancient  doctors."t  From  that  moment,  Hedio 
oved  and  admired  Zwingle.J  He  longed  to  go  to  him, 
and  open  his  heart.  He  lingered  about  the  abbey,  with- 
out daring  to  make  advances,  restrained,  as  he  tells  us, 
jy  a  sort  of  superstitious  fear.  Mounting  his  horse, 
slowly  departed  from  our  Lady's  chapel,  looking 
>ack  on  a  spot  which  held  so  great  a  treasure,  with  the 
warmest  regret.  $ 

In  this  manner  did  Zwingle  preach ;  less  powerfully, 
no  doubt,  but  with  more  moderation,  and  no  less  suc- 
cess than  Luther  ;  he  avoided  precipitation,  and  gave 
ess  offence  to  men's  minds,  than  did  the  Saxon  monk ; 
le  trusted  to  the  power  of  truth  for  results.  The  same 
>rudence  marked  his  intercourse  with  the  dignitaries  of 
he  church.  Far  from  directly  opposing  them,  like  Lu- 
.her,  he  continued  long  on  friendly  terms  with  them. 
They  treated  him  with  respect,  not  only  on  account  of 
lis  learning  and  talents,  (and  Luther  would  have  been 
entitiled  to  equal  attention  from  the  Bishops  of  Mentz 
and  Brandenburg,)  but  still  more  on  account  of  his  de- 
motion to  the  pope's  political  views,  and  the  influence 
hat  such  a  man  as  Zwingle  must  needs  possess  in  a 
epublic. 

In  fact,  several  cantons,  weary  of  the  pope's  service, 
were  on  the  point  of  a  rupture.  But  the  legates  hoped 
o  retain  many  on  their  side  by  gaining  Zwingle,  as 
hey  had  gained  over  Erasmus,  by  pensions  and  ho- 
lours.  The  legates,  Ennius  and  Pucci,  often  visited 

*  Is  sermo  ita  me  inflammavit  .  .  .  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  90.) 

t  Elegans  ille,  doctus,  gravis,  copiosus,  penetrans  et  evan- 
gelicus  .  .  .  (Ibid.  89.) 

f  Ut  inciperem  Zwinglium  arctissime  complecti,  suscipere 
t  admirari.  (Ibid.) 

^  Sicque  abequitavi,  non  sine  molestia,  quam  tamen  ipse 
mini  peperam.  (Ibid.  90.) 


ZWINGLE  AND  THE  LEGATES— ZW1NGLE  OPPOSES  INDULGENCES. 


199 


Einsidlen,  where,  from  the  proximity  of  the  democratic 
cantons,  their  negociations  with  those  states  were  most 
easy.  But  Zwingle,  far  from  sacrificing  truth  to  the 
solicitations  and  bribes  of  Rome,  allowed  no  opportu- 
nity to  pass  of  defending  the  Gospel.  The  famous 
Schinner,  who  was  then  on  ill  terms  with  his  diocese, 
spent  some  time  at  Einsidlen.  "  The  whole  papacy," 
remarked  Zwingle,  in  conversation  with  him,  4<  rests 
on  bad  foundations.*  Do  you  begin  and  clear  away 
errors  and  corruptions,  or  else  you  will  see  the  whole 
fabric  come  tumbling  to  the  ground,  with  frightful 
noise."* 

He  spoke  with  the  same  frankness  to  the  legate, 
Puccii.  Four  times  did  he  return  to  the  charge.  "  By 
God's  help,"  said  he,  "  I  mean  to  preach  the  Gospel, 
and  that  will  shake  Rome ;"  and  then  he  went  on 
to  explain  what  was  needed  in  order  to  save  the  church. 
Pucci  promised  everything,  but  did  nothing.  Zwingle 
declared  his  intention  to  throw  up  the  pope's  pension, 
but  the  legate  entreated  him  to  retain  it.  As  he  had 
no  desire  to  appear  in  open  hostility  against  the  head 
of  the  church,  Zwingle  continued  in  receipt  of  it  for 
three  years.  "  But  do  not  think,"  said  he,  "  that  for 
any  money  I  will  suppress  a  single  syllable  of  truth.":}: 
Pucci,  in  alarm,  procured  the  nomination  of  the  Re- 
former as  acolyte  of  the  pope.  It  was  a  step  to  fur- 
ther honours.  Rome  sought  to  intimidate  Luther  by 
solemn  judgments,  and  to  win  Zwingle  by  her  favours. 
Against  one  she  hurled  excommunications  ;  to  the 
other  she  cast  her  gold  and  splendours.  They  were 
two  different  methods  for  attaining  the  same  end,  and 
sealing  the  daring  lips  which  presumed,  in  opposition 
to  the  pope's  pleasure,  to  proclaim  the  Word  of  God 
in  Germany  and  Switzerland.  The  last  device  was 
the  most  skilfully  conceived,  but  neither  was  success- 
ful. The  enlarged  hearts  of  the  preachers  of  the  Gos- 
pel, were  shown  to  be  above  the  reach  of  vengeance 
or  seduction. 

About  this  time  Zwingle  conceived  great  hopes  of 
another  Swiss  prelate.  This  was  Hugo  of  Landenberg, 
Bishop  of  Constance.  Landenberg  gave  directions  for 
a  general  visitation  of  the  churches,  but  being  a  man 
of  very  feeble  character,  he  allowed  himself  to  be  over- 
ruled, sometimes  by  Faber,  his  vicar,  at  others  by  a  bad 
woman,  from  whose  influence  he  could  not  extricate 
himself.  He  sometimes  seemed  to  honour  the  Gospel, 
and  yet,  if  any  one  preached  it  boldly,  he  looked  upon 
the  preacher  as  a  disturber.  He  was  one  of  those  men 
too  often  met  with  in  the  church,  who,  preferring  truth 
to  error,  are,  nevertheless,  more  tender  of  error  than 
concerned  for  truth ;  and  are  frequently  found,  at  last, 
opposed  to  those  in  whose  ranks  they  ought  to  be  con- 
tending. Zwingle  applied  to  Hugo  ;  but  in  vain.  He 
was  doomed  to  experience,  as  Luther  had  done,  that 
it  was  useless  to  invoke  the  assistance  of  the  heads  of 
the  church  ;  and  that  the  only  way  to  revive  Chris- 
tianity, was  to  act  the  part  of  a  faithful  teacher  of 
God's  Word.  The  opportunity  for  this  was  not  long 
delayed. 

In  1518,  a  barefooted  Carmelite  arrived  on  the 
heights  of  St.  Gothard,  in  those  elevated  passes  which 
have  been  with  difficulty  opened  across  the  steep  rocks 
that  separate  Switzerland  from  Italy.  This  man  had 
been  brought  up  in  an  Italian  convent;  and  was  the 
bearer  of  papal  indulgences,  which  he  was  commis- 
sioned to  sell  to  the  good  Christian  people  of  the  Hel- 
vetic league.  Brilliant  successes,  under  two  preced- 
ing popes,  had  made  him  notorious  for  this  shameful 
traffic.  Companions  of  his  journey,  whose  business 

*Dass  das  ganz  papstum  einen  schlechten  grund  habe 
(Zw.  Opp.  ii.  pars.  i.  7.) 

t  Oder  aber  sy  werdind  mit  grosser  unriiw  umfallen.  (Ibid.) 

J  Frustra  sperari  me  vel  verbulum  de  veritate  deminutorum 
ease,  pecunise  gratia.  (Zw.  Opp.  i.  365.) 


it  was  to  puff  off  his  wares,  accompanied  his  advance 
across  snows  and  ice-fields,  as  old  as  creation  itself. 
The  caravan,  miserable  in  its  appearance,  and  a  good 
deal  resembling  a  troop  of  adventurers  in  quest  of 
booty,  went  forward  to  the  sound  of  the  dashing  streams 
that  form,  by  their  confluence,  the  rivers  Rhine,  Reuss, 
Aar,  Rhone,  Tessino,  and  others — silently  meditating 
the  spoiling  of  the  simple  Swiss.  Samson — for  that 
was  the  name  of  the  Carmelite,  attended  by  his  com- 
pany, arrived  first  at  Uri,  and  commenced  their  trade. 
They  had  soon  made  an  end  with  these  poor  country- 
folks, and  removed  thence  to  the  canton  of  Schwitz. 
It  was  there  Zwingle  was  residing  ;  and  there  it  was 
that  the  contest  between  these  servants  of  two  widely 
different  masters  was  to  begin.  "  /  am  empowered  to 
remit  all  sins  ."'  said  the  Italian  monk,  (the  Tetzel  of 
Switzerland,)  to  the  people  of  Schwitz.  "  Heaven 
and  earth  are  subject  to  my  authority  ;  arid  I  dispose 
of  Christ's  merits  to  whoever  will  purchase  them,  by 
bringing  me  their  money  for  their  indulgences." 

When  tidings  of  this  discourse  reached  Zwingle, 
his  zeal  was  kindled,  and  he  preached  vehemently. 
"  Christ,"  said  he,  "  the  son  of  God,  says,  Come  unto 
me  all  ye  who  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest.  What  audacious  folly  and  madness  is 
it  then  to  say,  contradicting  him:  '  Buy  letters  of  in- 
dulgence, apply  to  Rome,  give  your  money  to  the 
monks,  sacrifice  to  the  priests  !* — if  you  do  these 
things,  I  will  absolve  you  from  your  sins.'  Christ  is  the 
one  offering  !  Christ  is  the  only  sacrifice  !  Christ  is 
the  only  way  !"t 

Throughout  Schwitz,  people  soon  spoke  of  Samson 
as  a  cheat  and  impostor.  He  took  the  road  to  Zug  ; 
and,  for  the  moment,  the  two  champions  missed  each 
other. 

Scarcely  had  Samson  taken  his  departure  from 
Schwitz,  when  a  citizen  of  that  canton,  named  Stap- 
fer,  who  was  much  respected,  and  afterward  public  se- 
cretary, was  suddenly  reduced,  with  his  family,  to  a 
state  of  total  destitution.  "  Alas  !"  said  he,  address- 
ing himself,  in  his  perplexity,  to  Zwingle,  "  I  know 
not  how  to  satisfy  my  hunger,  and  the  wants  of  my 
poor  children. "t  Zwingle  could  give  when  Rome 
would  take  ;  and  he  was  as  ready  to  do  good  works, 
as  he  was  to  oppose  those  who  inculcated  them  as 
means  by  which  we  are  saved.  He  daily  supplied 
Stapfer  with  support. i)  "  It  is  God,"  said  he,  intent 
on  taking  no  credit  to  himself,  "  it  is  God  who  begets 
charity  in  the  believer,  and  gives  at  once  the  first 
thought,  the  resolve,  and  the  work  itself ;  it  is  God 
who  does  it  by  his  own  power,"||  Stapfer's  affection  for 
him  lasted  till  death  ;  and,  four  years  after  this,  when  he 
filled  the  post  of  Secretary  of  Schwitz,  he  turned  to 
Zwingle  under  the  feeling  of  a  higher  want,  and  with 
noble  candour,  said,  "  Since  it  was  you  who  once  sup- 
plied my  temporal  need,  how  much  more  may  I  expect 
you  may  give  me  that  which  shall  satisfy  the  famine 
of  my  soul." 

The  friends  of  Zwingle  multiplied  daily.  It  was  no 
longer  at  Glaris,  Bale,  and  Schwitz,  that  persons  were 
found  whose  hearts  were  with  him  :  at  Uri,  there  was 
Schmidt,  the  secretary  ;  at  Zug,  Colin  Muller,  and 
Werner  Steiner,  his  old  companions  in  arms  at  Ma- 
rignan  ;  at  Lucerne,  Xyloctect  and  Kilchmeyer  ;  at 
Bienne,  Wittembach ;  and  in  other  parts  not  a  few. 

*  Romam  curre  !  redimo  literas  indulgentiarum  !  da  tan- 
tumdem  monachis  !  ofler  sacerdotibus,  &c.  (Zw.  Opp.  i.  222.) 

f  Christus  una  est  oblatio,  unum  sacrificium,  una  via.  (Ibid.) 
201.) 

f  Ut  meffi,  meorumque  liberorum  inediae  corporali  snbveni- 
retis.  (Zw.Epp.  284.) 

^  Largas  mihi  quotidie  suppetias  tulistis.   (Ibid.) 

1|  Caritatem  ingenerat  Deus,  consilium,  propsitum  et  opus. 
Quidquid  boni  prastat  Justus,  hoc  Deus.  sua  virtute  praestat. 
(Zw,  Opp.  i.  226.) 


200 


THE  PREACHERSHIP— THE  CANDIDATES— ZWINGLE'S  CONFESSION. 


But  the  curate  of  Einsidlen  had  no  more  devoted  friend 
than  Oswald  Myconius.  Oswald  had  quitted  Bale  in 
1516,  to  take  the  direction  of  the  Cathedral  school  at 
Zurich.  At  this  period,  that  city  possessed  neither 
learned  men  nor  schools.  Oswald  laboured,  in  con- 
junction with  several  benevolent  persons,  to  reclaim 
the  people  of  Zurich  from  their  ignorance,  and  initiate 
them  in  ancient  learning.  He  at  the  same  time  de- 
fended the  uncompromising  truth  of  holy  Scripture, 
and  declared  that  if  the  pope  or  the  emperor  should  en- 
join what  was  contrary  to  the  Gospel,  it  was  man's 
duty  to  obey  God  alone,  who  is  above  emperor  or 
pope. 

Seven  centuries  before,  Charlemagne  had  added  a 
college  of  canons  to  that  same  cathedral,  the  school  at- 
tached to  which  was  placed  under  Oswald  Myconius. 
These  canons  having  declined  from  their  first  institution, 
and  wishing  to  enjoy  their  benefices  in  the  sweets  of  in- 
dolence, had  adopted  the  custom  of  electing  a  preach- 
er, to  whom  they  delegated  the  duty  of  preaching,  and 
the  cure  of  souls.  This  post  became  vacant  shortly 
after  the  arrival  of  Oswald,  who  immediately  thought 
of  his  friend.  What  a  blessing  it  would  be  to  Zurich  ! 
Zwingle's  manners  and  appearance  were  prepossessing 
— he  was  a  handsome  man,*  of  polite  address,  and 
pleasing  conversation,  already  remarked  for  his  elo- 
quence, and  distinguished  among  all  the  confederated 
Swiss  for  his  brilliant  genius.  Myconius  spoke  of  him 
to  the  provost  of  the  chapter,  Felix  Frey,t  who  was 
prepossessed  by  the  manners  and  talents  of  Zwingle  ; 
to  Utinger,  an  old  man  much  respected  ;  and  to  the 
canon,  Hoffman,  a  man  of  upright  and  open  character, 
who  having,  for  a  long  time,  opposed  the  foreign  ser- 
vice of  the  Swiss,  was  favourably  inclined  toward  Ul- 
rich.  Other  inhabitants  of  Zurich  had,  on  different  oc- 
casions, heard  Zwingle  at  Einsidlen,  and  had  returned 
home  full  of  admiration.  The  approaching  election  of 
a  preacher  for  the  cathedral,  ere  long  put  everybody 
in  Zurich  in  motion.  Various  interests  were  started  ; 
many  laboured  night  and  day  to  promote  the  election 
of  the  eloquent  preacher  of  our  Lady  of  the  Eremites.  J 
Myconius  apprised  his  friend  of  it.  "  On  Wednesday 
next,"  answered  Zwingle,  "  1  am  going  to  dine  at 
Zurich,  and  we  will  talk  it  over."  He  came  accord- 
ingly. Calling  on  one  of  the  canons,  the  latter  in- 
quired :  "  Could  you  not  come  among  us,  and  preach 
the  Word  of  God  !"  "  I  could,"  answered  Zwingle, 
"  but  I  will  not  come  unless  invited  ;"  and,  forthwith, 
he  returned  to  his  monastery. 

This  visit  alarmed  his  enemies.  They  persuaded 
several  priests  to  offer  themselves  as  candidates  for 
the  vacant  post.  A  Suabian,  named  Lorenzo  Fable, 
even  preached  a  sermon  in  proof  of  his  talent ;  and  a 
report  prevailed  that  he  was  chosen.  "True  it  is, 
then,"  said  Zwingle  when  he  heard  it,  "  no  prophet  is 
honoured  in  his  own  country  ;  since  a  Suabian  is  pre- 
ferred before  a  Swiss.  I  see  what  popular  applause  is 
worth."$  Immediately  afterward,  Zwingle  received 
intelligence  from  the  secretary  of  Cardinal  Schinner 
that  the  election  had  not  taken  place  ;  nevertheless  the 
false  report  that  had  reached  him  piqued  the  curate  of 
Einsidlen.  Finding  one  so  unworthy  as  Fable  aspiring 
to  fill  the  office,  he  was  the  more  bent  on  obtaining  it, 
and  wrote  to  Myconius  on  the  subject.  Oswald  an- 
swered the  following  day.  "  Fable  will  continue  Fa- 
ble :  the  good  folks  who  will  have  to  decide  the  election, 

*  Dan  Zwingli  vom  lyb  ein  hubscher  man  wass.  (Bullin- 
ger  MS.) 

f  Und  als  Imme  sein  gestalt  und  geschiklichkeit  wol  gefiel, 
gab  er  Jm  syn  stimm.  (Ibid.) 

J  Qni  dies  et  noctes  laborarent  ut  vir  illc  subrogerctur. 
(Osw.  Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 

^  Scio  vulgi  acclamationes  et  illud  blandum  Euge  !  Euge ! 
<2w.Epp.p.53.) 


have  learned  that  he  is  the  father  of  six  sons,  and  is 
besides  possessed  of,  I  can't  tell  how  many  benefices."* 

Zwingle's  opponents  were  not  discouraged  ;  true, 
all  agreed  in  extolling  his  distinguished  acquirements  ,f 
but  some  said,  "  he  is  too  passionately  fond  of  music  ;" 
others,  "  he  is  fond  of  company  and  pleasure  ;"  others 
again,  "  he  was  in  his  youth  very  intimate  with  people 
of  loose  morals."  One  man  even  charged  him  with  hav- 
ing been  guilty  of  seduction.  This  was  mere  calumny  : 
yet  Zwingle,  although  more  innocent  than  the  ecclesi- 
astics of  his  age,  had  more  than  once,  in  the  first  years 
of  his  ministry,  given  way  to  the  passions  of  youth. 
It  is  not  easy  to  estimate  the  effect  upon  the  soul  of 
the  atmosphere  in  which  it  lives.  There  existed  under 
the  Papacy,  and  among  the  clergy,  disorders  that  were 
established,  allowed,  and  recognised,  as  agreeable  to 
the  laws  of  nature.  A  saying  of  JEneas  Sylvius,  after- 
ward Pope  Pius  II.,  gives  some  notion  of  the  wretched 
state  of  public  morals  at  this  period.^  Licentious- 
ness had  become  almost  everywhere  allowed. 

Oswald  exerted  all  his  activity  in  his  friend's  favour. 
He  laboured  to  the  utmost  to  clear  his  character,  and 
happily  succeeded. §  He  visited  the  burgomaster 
Roust,  Hoffman,  Frey,  and  Utinger.  He  extolled  the 
probity,  the  frankness,  and  deportment  of  Zwingle, 
and  confirmed  the  favourable  impression  that  he  had 
made  on  the  people  of  Zurich.  But  little  credence 
was  given  to  the  assertions  of  his  adversaries.  The 
men  of  most  weight  gave  their  judgment  that  Zwingle 
should  be  the  preacher  of  Zurich.  The  canons  whis- 
pered the  same  thing.  "  You  may  hope  for  success," 
wrote  Oswald,  with  emotion,  "  for  I  have  hopes  of  it." 
At  the  same  time  he  apprized  him  of  the  charges  of 
his  enemies.  Although  Zwingle  was  not  yet  altogether 
a  new  man,  his  was  the  soul  of  one  whose  conscience 
is  awakened,  and  who  may  fall  into  sin,  but  never  with- 
out struggle  and  remorse.  Often  had  he  determined 
to  live  a  holy  life — alone  among  his  order — in  the 
world.  But  when  he  heard  himself  accused  he  would 
not  boast  of  exemption  from  sin.  Accordingly  he 
wrote  to  the  canon,  Utinger.  "  With  none  to  walk 
with  me  in  the  path  of  holiness  (many  even  of  those 
about  me  being  offended  at  it,)  I  did  alas  !  fall — and, 
as  St.  Peter  says,  turned  again,  like  a  dog,  to  my  own 
vomit.il  God  knows  with  what  shame  and  anguish  I 
have  dragged  forth  into  light  these  sins  from  the  depths 
of  my  heart,  and  spread  them  before  that  mighty  God, 
to  whom  I,  however,  confess  my  wretchedness  more 
freely  than  to  mortal  man."1T  But  while  Zwingle  ac- 
knowledged himself  a  sinner,  he  vindicated  himself 
from  the  odious  charges  brought  against  him,  and  af- 
firmed that  he  had  ever  abhorred  the  thought  of  adul- 
tery, or  the  seduction  of  the  innocent  ;**  melancholy 
excesses  !  then  too  common  :  "  I  call  to  witness,"  he 
added,  "  all  with  whom  1  ever  lived. "ft 

On  the  llth  of  December  the  election  took  place. 
Zwingle  was  chosen  by  a  majority  of  seventeen  out 
of  twenty-four  votes.  The  time  had  couie  for  the 
Reformation  to  arise  in  Switzerland.  The  chosen  in- 

*  Fabulamanebit  fabula  ;  quern  domini  mci  acceperunt  sex 
pueris  esse  patrem  .  .  .  (Ibid.) 

f  Neminem  tamen,  qui  tuam  doctrinam  non  ad  coelum  ferat 
.  .  (Ibid.) 

\  Non  esse  qui  vigesimum  annum  excessit.  nee  verginem 
tetigerit.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  57.) 

§  Reprimo  haec  pro  viribus,  imo  et  repressi.     (Ibid.  54.) 

||  Quippe  neminem  habens,  comitem  hujus  instituti,  scan- 
dalizantes  vero  non  paucos,  neu  !  cecidi  et  factus  sum  canis 
ad  vomitum.  (Ibid.  55.) 

1T  En  cum  verecundia  (Deus  novit  !)  magnahsec  er.  pecto- 
ris  specubus  depromsi,  apud  eum  scilicet  cum  quo  etiam  co- 
ram  minus  quam  cum  ullo  fermemortaliumconnterivererer. 
(Zw.  Epp.  p.  65.) 

**  Ea  ratio  nobis  perpetuo  fuit,  nee  alienum  thorum  con- 
scendere,  nee  verginem  vitiare.  (Ibid.) 

ft  Testes  invoco  cunctos,  quibuscum  vixi.    (Ibid.) 


ZWINGLE  ELECTED— LEAVES  EINSIDLEN— HIS  RECEPTION. 


201 


strument  that  Providence  had  been  for  three  years  pre- 
paring in  the  seclusion  of  Einsidlen  was  ready,  and 
was  to  be  transferred  to  another  scene.  God,  who 
had  made  choice  of  the  rising  university  of  Wittem- 
berg,  situate  in  the  heart  of  Germany,  under  the  pro- 
tection of  the  wisest  of  princes,  there  to  call  Luther 
— made  a  choice  of  Zurich,  esteemed  th"3  chief  town  of 
Helvetia,  there  to  fix  Zwingle.  At  Zurich  he  would 
be  in  communication  not  merely  with  the  most  intelli- 
gent and  simple-minded,  the  most  resolute  and  ener- 
getic, of  the  Swiss  population,  but  also  with  the  vari- 
ous cantons  that  lay  around  that  ancient  and  influential 
state.  The  hand  that  had  taken  up  a  poor  herdsman  of 
mount  Sentis,  and  placed  him  in  a  preparatory  school 
— now  established  him,  mighty  in  word  and  in  deed, 
in  the  face  of  all  his  nation,  that  he  might  become 
the  instrument  of  its  regeneration.  Zurich  was  to 
become  the  focus  of  illumination  for  the  whole  of 
Switzerland. 

To  the  inmates  of  Einsidlen,  the  day  on  which  they 
received  the  tidings  of  Zwingle's  nomination  was  a 
day  of  rejoicing  and  grief  intermingled.  The  society 
which  had  been  formed  there,  was  about  to  be  broken 
up  by  the  removal  of  its  most  valuable  member ;  and 
who  could  tell  whether  superstition  might  not  again 
assert  her  sway  over  that  ancient  haunt  of  the  pilgrim  1 
The  Council  of  Schwitz  transmitted  to  Ulric  an  ad- 
dress, expressive  of  their  sentiments,  in  which  they 
styled  him  "  their  reverend,  learned,  and  very  gracious 
master  and  worthy  friend."*  "  Choose  for  us  at  least 
a  successor  worthy  of  yourself,"  said  Geroldsek  to 
Zwingle.  "I  have  a  little  lion  for  you,"  he  replied, 
"  who  is  both  simple-hearted  and  wise  ;  a  man  conver- 
sant with  the  mysteries  of  Holy  Writ."  "  I  will  have 
him,"  said  the  administrator  immediately.  This  was 
Leo  Juda,  that  mild  yet  intrepid  man,  with  whom 
Zwingle  had  contracted  so  close  a  fellowship  at  Bale. 
Leo  Juda  accepted  a  charge  which  brought  him  nearer 
to  ius  beloved  Ulrich.  The  latter,  after  embracing  his 
friends,  bade  farewell  to  the  solitude  of  Einsidlen,  and 
pursued  his  journey  to  that  delightful  region,  where  the 
cheerful  and  goodly  city  of  Zurich  is  seated,  amid  an 
amphitheatre  of  gentle  hills,  whose  sides  are  clothed 
with  vineyards,  and  their  feet  bedecked  with  meadows 
and  orchards,  while  over  their  wooded  crests  are  des- 
cried the  lofty  summits  of  the  distant  A  Ibis.  Zu- 
rich, the  political  centre  of  Switzerland,  where  the 
leading  men  of  the  nation  were  frequently  assembled, 
was  a  point  from  which  the  Helvetic  territory  might  be 
acted  on,  and  the  seeds  of  truth  scattered  over  the 
whole  of  the  cantons.  Accordingly  the  friends  of 
literature  and  of  the  Gospel  hailed  the  election  of 
Zwingle, with  their  heartiest  acclamations.  At  Pans, 
especially,  the  Swiss  students,  who  were  a  numerous 
body  there,  were  transported  with  joy  at  the  tidings. f 
But  if  at  Zurich,  Zwingle  had  the  prospect  of  a  mighty 
victory  opened  to  him,  he  had  also  to  expect  an  ardu- 
ous conflict.  Glareanus  wrote  to  him  from  Paris  : 
"  I  foresee  that  your  learning  will  excite  a  bitter  hos- 
tility against  you  ;  but  take  courage,  and,  like  Hercu- 
les, you  will  overcome  all  the  monsters  you  have  to 
encounter.''! 

It  was  on  the  27th  of  December,  1518,  that  Zwin- 
gle arrived  at  Zurich  ;  he  alighted  at  the  hotel  of 
Einsidlen.  His  welcome  was  a  cordial  and  honourable 
one  $  The  chapter  immediately  assembled  to  receive 
him,  and  he  was  invited  to  take  his  place  among  his 

*  Reverende,  perdecte,  admodum  gratiose  domine  ac  bone 
amice.  (Zw  Epp.  p.  60 ) 

t  Omnes  adeo  quotquot  ex  Helv  etiis  adsunt  juvenes  fremere 
et  gaudere.  (Ibid.  p.  64.) 

\  Quantum  invidiae  tib:  inter  istos  eruditio  tua  conflabit. 
(Ibid.  p.  64.) 

fc  Do  er  ehrlich  uiid  wol  empfangen  ward.  (Bullinger,  MS.) 
Bb 


colleagues.  Felix  Frey  presided  ;  the  canons  whether 
friendly  or  hostile  to  Zwingle,  were  seated  indiscrimi- 
nately round  their  principal.  There  was  a  general  ex- 
citement throughout  the  assembly ;  every  one  felt, 
though  probably  he  knew  not  why,  that  this  new  appoint- 
ment was  likely  to  have  momentous  results.  As  the 
innovating  spirit  of  the  young  priest  was  regarded  with 
apprehension,  it  was  agreed  that  the  most  important  of 
the  duties  attached  to  his  new  office  should  be  dis- 
tinctly pointed  out  to  him.  "  You  will  use  your 
utmost  diligence,"  he  was  gravely  admonished,  "  in 
collecting  the  revenues  of  the  chapter — not  overlooking 
the  smallest  item.  You  will  exhort  the  faithful,  both 
from  the  pulpit  and  in  the  confessional,  to  pay  all  dues 
and  tithes,  and  to  testify  by  their  offerings  the  love 
which  they  bear  to  the  Church.  You  will  be  careful  to 
increase  the  income  that  arises  from  the  sick,  from  mas- 
ses, and  in  general  from  all  ecclesiastical  ordinances." 
The  chapter  added  :  "  As  to  the  administration  of  the 
sacraments,  preaching  and  personally  watching  over 
the  flock— these  also  are  among  the  duties  of  the  priest. 
But  for  the  performance  of  these,  you  may  employ  a 
vicar  to  act  in  your  stead — especially  in  preaching. 
You  are  to  administer  the  sacraments  only  to  persons 
of  distinction,  and  when  especially  called  upon: — you 
are  not  allowed  to  administer  them  indiscriminately  to 
people  of  all  ranks."* 

What  regulations  were  these  for  Zwingle  to  sub- 
scribe to  !  Money  !  money  !  nothing  but  money  ! 
Was  it  then  for  this  that  Christ  had  appointed  the  mi- 
nistry 1  Prudence,  however,  stepped  in  to  moderate 
his  zeal :  he  knew  that  it  is  impossible  for  the  seed  to 
be  dropped  into  the  earth,  and  the  tree  to  grow  up,  and 
the  fruit  to  be  gathered  all  at  once.  Without  offering 
any  remarks  on  the  charge  that  had  been  delivered  to 
him,  he  modestly  expressed  the  gratitude  he  felt  for 
having  been  made  the  object  of  so  honourable  a  choice, 
and  then  proceeded  to  explain  what  were  his  intentions. 
"  The  history  of  Jesus,"  said  he,  "  has  been  too  long 
kept  out  of  the  People's  view.  It  is  my  purpose  to 
lecture  upon  the  whole  of  the  Gospel  according  to  St. 
Matthew,  drawing  from  the  fountains  of  Scripture 
alone, t  sounding  all  its  depths,  compairing  text  with 
text,  and  putting  up  earnest  and  unceasing  prayers, 
that  I  may  be  permitted  to  discover  what  is  the  mind 
of  the  Holy  Spirit. t  It  is  to  the  glory  of  God,  to  the 
praise  of  his  only  Son,  to  the  salvation  of  souls,  and 
their  instruction  in  the  true  faith,  that  I  desire  to  con- 
secrate my  ministry. "§  Language  so  new  to  their 
ears  made  a  deep  impression  on  their  chapter.  Some 
heard  it  with  joy  ;  but  the  greater  part  signified  their 
disapproval  of  it.||  "  This  method  of  preaching  is  an 
innovation,"  cried  they ;  "  one  innovation  will  soon 
lead  to  another; — and  where  can  we  stop?"  The 
canon  Hoffman,  especially,  thought  it  his  duty  to  pre- 
vent the  fatal  effects  of  an  appointment  which  he  had 
himself  promoted.  "  This  expounding  of  the  Scrip- 
ture," said  he,  "  Will  do  the  people  more  harm  than 
good." — "  It  is  no  new  method,"  replied  Zwingle,  "it 
is  the  old  one.  Recollect  St.  Chrysostom's  homilies 
upon  Matthew,  and  St.  Augustine  upon  John.  Be- 
sides, I  will  be  cautious  in  all  that  I  say,  and  give  no 
one  cause  to  complain." 

In  abandoning  the  exclusive  use  of  detached  por- 
tions of  the  Gospels  merely,  Zwingle  was  departing 

*  Schuler's  Zwingli's  Bildung,  p.  227, 

f  Absque  humanis  commentationibus.ex  solis  fontibus  Scrip- 
turae  sacrae.  (Zw.  Opp.  i.  272.) 

t  Sed  mente  spiritus,  quam  diligenti  Scripturarum  collatio- 
ne,  precibusque  ex  corde  fusis,  se  nacturum.  (Osvv  Myc 
Vit  Zw.) 

§  Alles  Gott  und  seinen  einigen  Sohn  zu  Lob  und  Ehren 
und  zu  rechten  Heil  der  Seelen,  zur  Underrichtung  im  rech- 
ten  Glauben.  (Bullinger,  MS.) 

|l  Quibus  auditis,  mceror  simul  et  laetitia.    (Osw.  Myc.) 


202 


ZWINGLE  OPENS  THE  GOSPEL— EFFECT  OF  HIS  PREACHING. 


from  the  practice  that  had  prevailed  since  the  days  of 
Charlemagne,  and  restoring  the  Holy  Scriptures  to 
their  ancient  rights ;  he  was  connecting  the  Reforma- 
tion, even  in  the  beginning  of  his  ministry,  with  the 
primitive  times  of  Christianity,  and  preparing  for  fu- 
ture ages  a  deeper  study  of  the  Word  of  God.  But 
more  than  this  :  the  firm  and  independent  posture  which 
he  assumed  in  relation  to  the  Church,  gave  intimation 
that  his  aim  was  extraordinary  :  his  character  as  a  Re- 
former began  now  to  manifest  itself  distinctly  to  the 
eyes  of  his  countrymen  ;  and  the  Reformation  conse- 
quently moved  a  step  onward. 

Hoffman,  having  failed  in  the  chapter,  addressed  a 
written  request  to  the  principal,  that  he  would  prohibit 
Zwingle  from  disturbing  the  people  in  their  faith. 
The  principal  sent  for  the  new  preacher,  and  spoke  to 
him  in  a  very  affectionate  tone.  But  no  human  power 
could  seal  his  lips.  On  the  31st  of  December,  he 
wrote  to  the  Council  of  Glaris,  that  he  entirely  relin- 
quished the  cure  of  souls,  which,  by  their  favour,  he 
had  hitherto  retained ;  and,  for  the  future,  he  dedicated 
himself  entirely  to  Zurich,  and  the  work  which  God 
was  preparing  for  him  in  that  city. 

On  Saturday,  the  first  of  January,  1519,  Zwingle, 
having  on  that  day  completed  his  thirty-fifth  year,  as- 
cended the  pulpit  of  the  cathedral.  The  church  was 
filled  by  a  numerous  assemblage  of  persons  desirous 
to  see  a  man  who  had  already  acquired  celebrity,  and 
to  hear  that  new  Gospel  of  which  every  one  was  be- 
ginning to  speak.  "  It  is  to  Christ,"  said  Zwingle, 
*'  that  I  wish  to  guide  you — to  Christ,  the  true  spring 
of  salvation.  This  divine  word  is  the  only  food  that 
I  seek  to  minister  to  your  hearts  and  souls."  He  then 
announced  that,  on  the  following  day,  the  first  Sunday 
of  the  year,  he  would  begin  to  explain  the  Gospel  ac- 
cording to  Saint  Matthew.  On  the  morrow,  accord- 
ingly, the  preacher,  and  a  still  more  numerous  auditory, 
were  assembled  in  their  places.  Zwingle  opened  the 
Gospel,  the  book  that  had  so  long  been  sealed,  and 
read  ihe  first  page.  Passing  under  review  the  history 
of  the  Patriarchs  and  prophets  (from  the  first  chapter 
of  Matthew,)  he  expounded  it  in  such  a  manner,  that 
all  exclaimed,  in  astonishment  and  delight — "  We 
never  heard  the  like  of  this  before  !"* 

He  continued,  in  this  way,  to  explain  the  whole  of 
St.  Matthew,  according  to  the  Greek  original.  He 
showed  how  the  explanation  and  the  application  of  the 
Bible  were  both  to  be  found  in  the  very  nature  of  man. 
Setting  forth  the  sublimest  truths  of  the  Gospel  in  fa- 
miliar language,  his  preaching  adapted  itself  to  every 
class — to  the  wise  and  learned,  as  well  as  the  ignorant 
and  simple. f  He  magnified  the  infinite  mercies  of 
God  the  Father,  while  he  besought  his  hearers  to  put 
their  trust  in  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  only  Saviour.}  At 
the  same  time  that  he  called  them  to  repentance  by 
the  most  persuasive  appeals,  he  combated  the  errors 
which  prevailed  among  his  countrymen  by  the  most 
vigorous  reasoning.  He  raised  a  fearless  voice  against 
luxury,  intemperance,  extravagance  in  dress,  injustice 
to  the  poor,  idleness,  mercenary  service  in  war,  and 
the  acceptance  of  pensions  from  foreign  princes.  "  In 
the  pulpit,"  says  one  of  his  contemporaries,  "  he  spared 
no  one,  neither  pope,  nor  emperor,  nor  kings,  nor 
dukes,  nor  princes,  nor  lords,  not  even  the  confede- 
rates. All  the  strength,  and  all  the  joy  of  his  own 
heart  were  in  God  ;  therefore  he  exhorted  the  whole 

*  Dessgleichen  wie  jederman  redt,  nie  gehort  worden 
•war.  (B.  Weise,  a  contemporary  of  Zwingle's.  Fiisslin  Bey- 
trage,  iv.  36.) 

t  Nuin  ita  simplices  sequalitercum  prudentissimis  etacutis 
simis  quibusque  proficiebant.  (Osw.  Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 

J  In  welchem  cr  Gott  den  vater  prysset  nnd  alle  Menschcn 
allein  uff  Jcsum  Christum,  als  den  einigen  Heiland  verthrau 
wenlehrte.  (Bullinger,  MS.) 


ity  of  Zurich  to  trust  in  none  but  Him."* — "  Never 
>efore  had  any  man  been  heard  to  speak  with  so  much 
uthority,"  says  Oswald  Myconius,  who  watched  the 
abours  of  his  friend  with  joy  and  ardent  hope. 

It  was  impossible  that  the  Gospel  could  be  proclaim- 
ed in  Zurich  without  effect.  A  great  and  continually 
ncreasing  multitude  of  every  class,  but  especially  of 
he  lower  orders,  nocked  to  hear  it.t  Many  of  the 
itizens  of  Zurich  had  ceased  to  attend  public  worship. 
1 1  derive  no  benefit  from  the  discourses  of  these 
iriests,"  was  the  frequent  observation  of  Fiisslin,  a 
>oet  and  historian,  as  well  as  a  councillor  of  state ; — 
'  they  do  not  preach  the  things  pertaining  to  salvation  ; 
"or  they  understand  them  not.  Avarice  and  voluptu- 
ousness are  the  only  qualities  I  discover  in  them.'" 
ienry  Rauschlin,  the  state-treasurer,  a  diligent  reader 
if  the  Scriptures,  entertained  the  same  sentiments 
[  The  priests,"  said  he,  "  gathered  together  by  thou- 
ands,  at  the  Council  of  Constance  ....  to  burn  the 
>est  man  among  them  all."  These  distinguished  men, 
attracted  by  curiosity,  came  to  hear  Zwingle's  first 
ecture.  The  emotions,  which  the  preacher  awakened 
n  their  minds,  were  successively  depicted  in  their 
countenances.  "  Glory  be  to  God,"  said  they,  as  they 
eft  the  Church  ;  "  this  is  a  preacher  of  the  truth.  He 
will  be  our  Moses  to  lead  us  forth  from  Egypt. ''J — 
From  that  hour,  they  became  the  intimate  friends  of 
,he  Reformer.  "  Ye  rulers  of  this  world,"  said  Fus- 
slin,  "  cease  to  persecute  the  doctrine  of  Christ.  Af- 
er  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  had  been  put  to  death, 
fishermen  were  raised  up  to  publish  his  Gospel.  And 
so  now,  if  you  destroy  the  preachers  of  the  truth,  you 
rvill  see  glass  workers,  and  millers,  and  potters,  and 
bunders,  and  shoemakers,  and  tailors,  starting  up  to 
teach  in  their  stead."$ 

At  first  there  was  but  one  cry  of  admiration  through- 
out Zurich,  but  when  the  first  burst  of  enthusiasm  had 
subsided,  the  enemy  took  heart  again.  Many  well- 
meaning  men,  alarmed  by  the  thought  of  a  Reforma- 
tion, gradually  fell  away  from  Zwingle.  The  violence 
of  the  monks,  which  for  a  brief  space  had  been  sup- 
pressed, now  broke  out  anew,  and  the  college  of  the 
canons  resounded  with  complaints.  Zwingle  remained 
mmovable.  His  friends,  as  they  contemplated  his 
courage,  recognised  in  their  teacher  the  true  spirit  of 
the  apostolic  age.  II  Among  his  enemies  there  were 
some  who  jeered  and  mocked  at  him,  others  who  re- 
torted to  insulting  threats  ;  but  he  endured  all  with 
the  patience  of  a  Cb.ristian.1T  "  If  we  would  win  souls 
to  Christ,"  he  often  remarked,  "  we  must  learn  to  shut 
our  eyes  against  many  things  that  meet  us  in  our  way."** 
An  admirable  saying,  which  ought  not  to  pass  unnoted. 
His  character,  and  his  habitual  deportment  toward 
his  fellow-men,  contributed  as  much  as  his  public  mini- 
stration to  gain  all  hearts.  He  was  at  once  a  true 
Christian  and  a  true  republican.  The  equality  of 
mankind  was  with  him  no  unmeaning  phrase  ;  it  was 
inscribed  on  his  heart,  and  his  life  was  in  accordance 
with  it.  He  had  neither  that  pharisaical  pride  nor  that 
monkish  coarseness  by  which  men  of  simple  and  of 
refined  taste  are  alike  disgusted  ;  all  acknowledged  the 

*  All  sein  Trost  stuhnd  allein  mit  frolichem  Gemuth  zu 
Gott  .  .  .  .  (B.  Weise  Fiisslin  Beytr.  iv.  36.) 

|  Do  ward  bald  ein  gross  gelaiiff  von  allerley  menschen, 
Innsonders  Yon  dem  gemeinen  Mann  .  .  .  (Bulhnger,  MS.) 

i  Und  unser,  Moses  seyn  der  uns  Egypten  fiihrt.  (Bullin- 
ger, MS.) 

k  Werden  die  Glaser,  Muller,  Haffher,  Giesser,  Schubma- 
cher  und  Schneider  lehren.  (Mull.  Reliq.  iii.  186.) 

||  Nobis  apostolici  illius  saeculi  virum  represcntas.       (Zw. 


Epirpopb 


74.) 


_bganniunt  quidam,  rident,  minantur,  petulanter  inces. 
sum . .  .  at  tu  vere,  Christiana  patientia,  suffers  omnia.  (Zw. 
Epp.  p.  74.7th  May,  1519.) 

«*  Coonivendum  ad  multa  ei  qui  relit  males  Christo  lucri 
facere  .  .  .  Ibid. 


LOVE  OF  MUSIC— IMITATION  OF  CHRIST— THE  COLPORTEUR. 


203 


attraction  of  his  manner,  and  found  themselves  at  ease 
in  his  society.  Bold  and  energetic  in  the  pulpit,  he 
was  affable  to  those  whom  he  met  in  the  streets  or  pub- 
lic walks  ;  he  was  often  seen  in  the  places  where  the 
civic  companies  or  trading  bodies  held  their  meetings, 
explaining  to  the  burghers  the  leading  articles  of  the 
Christian  faith,  or  holding  familiar  conversation  with 
them.  He  accosted  peasants  and  patricians  with  the 
same  cordiality.  "  He  invited  the  country-folks  to 
dinner,"  says  one  of  his  most  violent  enemies,"  walked 
with  them  talked  to  them  about  God,  and  often  put 
the  devil  into  their  hearts,  and  his  own  writings  into 
their  pockets."  His  example  had  such  weight,  that 
even  the  town-councillors  of  Zurich  would  visit  those 
rustic  strangers,  supply  them  with  refreshment,  go 
about  the  city  with  them,  and  pay  them  all  possible 
attention." 

He  continued  to  cultivate  music,  though  "  with  mo- 
deration," as  Bullinger  assures  us ;  nevertheless,  the 
adversaries  of  the  Gospel  took  advantage  of  this,  and 
called  him  "the  evangelical  lute-player  and  piper."t 
Faber,  on  one  occasion,  reproved  him  for  indulging  in 
this  recreation.  '•  My  dear  Faber,"  replied  Zwingle, 
with  manly  frankness,  "  thou  knowest  not  what  music 
is.  I  do  not  deny  that  I  have  learned  to  play  the  lute 
and  the  violin,  and  other  instruments  ;  and,  at  worst, 
they  serve  me  to  quiet  little  children  when  they  cry  ;J 
but,  as  for  thee,  thou  art  too  holy  for  music  ! — and 
dost  thou  not  know,  then,  that  David  was  a  cunning 
player  on  the  harp,  and  how  he  chased  the  evil  spirit 
out  of  Saul  1  Oh  !  if  thy  ears  were  but  awake  to  the 
notes  of  the  celestial  lute,  the  evil  spirit  of  ambition 
and  greediness  of  wealth,  by  which  thou  art  possessed, 
would,  in  like  manner,  depart  from  thee."  Perhaps 
there  was  something  of  weakness  in  Zwingle's  attach- 
ment to  music  ;  yet,  it  was  in  a  spirit  of  open-hearted- 
ness,  and  evangelical  liberty,  that  he  cultivated  an  art 
which  religion  has  always  connected  with  her  loftiest 
exercises.  He  composed  the  music  of  several  of  his 
Christian  lyrics,  and  was  not  ashamed  sometimes  to 
touch  his  lute  for  the  amusement  of  the  little  ones  of 
his  flock.  He  displayed  the  same  kindly  disposition 
in  his  demeanour  toward  the  poor.  "  He  ate  and 
drank,"  says  one  of  his  contemporaries,  "  with  all  who 
invited  him,  he  treated  no  one  with  disdain — he  was 
full  of  compassion  for  the  poor,  and  always  composed 
and  cheerful  in  good  or  evil  fortune.  No  calamity  ever 
daunted  him,  his  speech  was  ever  hopeful — his  heart 
ever  steadfast."^  Thus  did  Zwingle  continually  enlarge 
the  sphere  of  his  influence — sitting  alternately  at  the 
poor  man's  scanty  board,  and  the  banquet-table  of  the 
great,  as  his  Master  had  done  before  him — and  never, 
in  any  situation,  omitting  an  opportunity  to  further  the 
work  with  which  God  had  entrusted  him. 

From  the  same  motive  he  was  indefatigable  in  study. 
From  sun-rise  until  the  hour  of  ten  he  employed  him- 
self in  reading,  writing,  or  translating ;  the  Hebrew, 
especially,  during  that  portion  of  the  day,  occupied 
much  of  his  attention.  After  dinner  he  gave  audience 
to  those  who  had  any  communication  to  make  to  him, 
or  stood  in  any  need  of  his  advice  ;  he  walked  out  in 
company  with  his  friends,  and  visited  his  people.  At 
two  o'clock  he  resumed  his*  walk.  He  took  a  short 
turn  after  supper,  and  then  began  writing  letters,  which 
often  engaged  him  till  midnight.  He  always  read  and 
wrote  standing,  and  never  allowed  the  customary  allot- 


*  Dass  der  Rath  gemeldete  Bruern  besucht  ....  (Salat's 
Chronik.  p.  155.) 

t  Der  Lauthenschlager  und  evangelischer  pfyffer.  (Bullin- 
ger. MS.  ) 

\  Dass  kombt  mir  ja  wol  die  kind  zu  geschweigen.     (Ibid.) 

^War  allwegen  trostlichen  Gemiiths  und  tapferer  Red. 
(B.  Weisse  Fiissl.  Beytr.  iv.  36.) 


ment  of  his  time  to  be  disturbed,  except  for  some  very 
important  cause.* 

But  the  efforts  of  one  man  were  not  enough.  He 
received  a  visit  about  this  time  from  a  stranger  named 
Lucian,  who  brought  him  some  of  the  works  of  the 
German  Reformer.  Rhenanus,  a  scholar  then  resident 
at  Bale,  and  an  unwearied  propagator  of  Luther's  writ- 
ings in  Switzerland,  had  sent  this  man  to  Zwingle.  It 
had  occurred  to  Rhenanus  that  the  hawking  of  books 
might  be  made  a  powerful  means  of  spreading  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Gospel.  "  Ascertain,"  said  Rhenanus 
to  Zwingle,  "  whether  this  Lucian  possesses  a  sufficient 
share  of  discretion  and  address  ;  if  it  shall  appear  that 
he  does,  let  him  go  from  city  to  city,  from  town  to 
town,  from  village  to  village,  nay  from  house  to  house 
— all  over  Switzerland,  carrying  with  him  the  writings 
of  Luther,  and  especially  the  exposition  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  written  for  the  laity. f  The  more  it  is  known, 
the  more  purchasers  will  it  find.  But  be  sure  to  let 
him  take  no  other  books  in  his  pack,  for  if  he  have 
none  but  Luther's,  he  will  sell  them  the  faster."  To 
this  expedient  was  many  a  Swiss  family  indebted  for 
the  gleam  of  light  that  found  an  entrance  into  their 
humble  dwelling.  There  was  one  book,  however^ 
which  Zwingle  should  have  caused  to  be  circu- 
lated before  any  of  Luther's — the  Gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

An  opportunity  of  displaying  his  zeal  in  a  new  field 
of  service  was  soon  afforded  him.  Samson,  the  famous 
dealer  in  indulgences,  was  journeying  by  slow  stages 
toward  Zurich.  This  vender  of  disreputable  wares 
had  arrived  from  Schwitz  at  Zug  on  the  20th  of  Sep- 
tember, 1518,  and  had  remained  at  Zug  three  days. 
An  immense  crowd  had  gathered  about  him  in  that 
town.  Those  of  the  poorest  class  were  the  most  eager 
of  the  throng,  and  thus  prevented  the  rich  from  making 
their  way  to  him.  This  did  not  suit  the  monk's  pur- 
pose, and  accordingly  one  of  his  attendants  kept  crying 
out  to  the  populace  : — "  Good  people  do  not  press  for- 
ward so  hard.  Clear  the  way  for  those  who  have 
money.  We  will  do  our  best  afterward  to  satisfy  those 
who  have  none."  From  Zug,  Samson  and  his  com- 
pany went  on  to  Lucerne — from  Lucerne  to  Underwal- 
den,  and  thence,  passing  through  a  cultivated  region 
of  the  Alps,  with  its  rich  interjacent  villages,  skirting 
the  everlasting  snows  of  the  Oberland,  and  displaying 
their  Romish  merchandise  for  sale  in  every  inhabited 
spot  of  the  loveliest  district  of  Switzerland,  they  arrived 
at  length  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Berne.  At  first,  the 
monk  received  an  intimation  that  he  would  not  be  al- 
lowed to  enter  the  city  ?  but  eventually,  by  the  aid  of 
some  interested  auxiliaries  within,  he  succeeded  in 
gaining  admission,  and  spread  out  his  stall  in  St.  Vin- 
cent's church.  He  there  began  to  cry  up  his  wares 
more  loudly  than  ever.  "  Here,"  said  he  to  the  rich, 
"  are  indulgences  on  parchment,  for  one  crown ! 
There,"  addressing  himself  to  the  poor,  "  are  absolu- 
tions on  common  paper,  for  two  batz  only  !"  One 
day,  a  knight  of  high  name,  Jacob  von  Stein,  presented 
himself  before  him,  mounted  on  a  prancing  dapple-grey 
charger.  "  Give  me,"  said  the  knight,  "  an  indulgence 
for  myself;  for  my  troop,  which  is  five  hundred  strong; 
for  all  the  vassals  on  my  domain  of  Belp ;  and  for  all 
my  ancestors  ;  and  I  will  give  you  in  return  this  dap- 
ple-gray horse  of  mine."  It  was  a  high  price  to  ask 
for  a  horse.  Nevertheless,  the  charger  pleased  the 
barefooted  Carmelite.  The  bargain  was  struck,  the 
beast  was  led  into  the  monk's  stable,  and  all  those 
souls  were  duly  declared  to  have  been  delivered  for 

*  Certas  studijs  vindicans  horas,  quas  etiam  non  omisit, 
nisi  seriis  coactus.  (Osw.  Myc.  Vit.  Zw .) 

t . .  .  Oppidatim,  muincipatim,  vicatim  imo  domesticatim 
per  Helvetica  circumferat.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  81.) 


204 


SAMSON  AT  BERNE— DEAN  OF  BREMGARTEN— BULLINGEK. 


ever  from  the  pains  of  hell.*  On  another  occasion,  a 
burgher  obtained  from  him  for  thirteen  florins  an  indul- 
gence, by  virtue  of  which,  his  confessor  was  authorized 
to  absolve  him,  among  other  things,  from  every  kind 
of  perjury. t  Samson  was  held  in  such  reverence,  thai 
the  counsellor  von  May,  an  old  man  of  enlightened  mind 
having  dropped  some  expressions  against  him,  was 
obliged  to  ask  pardon  of  the  haughty  monk  on  his 
knees. 

The  last  day  of  his  stay  had  now  arrived.  A  deaf- 
ening clamour  of  bells  gave  warning  to  the  inhabitants 
of  Berne  that  the  monk  was  about  to  take  his  departure. 
Samson  was  in  the  church,  standing  on  the  steps  of 
the  high  altar.  The  canon,  Henry  Lupulus,  Zwingle's 
former  master,  officiated  as  his  interpreter.  "  When 
the  wolf  and  the  fox  come  abroad  together,"  said  the 
canon  Anselm,  addressing  the  Schultheiss  von  Watte- 
ville,  "  the  wisest  plan  for  you,  worshipful  Sir,  is  to 
gather  your  sheep  and  your  geese  with  all  speed  into 
a  place  of  safety."  But  the  monk  cared  little  for  such 
remarks  as  these,  which,  moreover,  seldom  reached 
his  ears.  "  Fall  on  your  knees,"  said  he  to  the  super- 
stitious crowd  ;  "  repeat  three  pater  nostcrs,  and  three 
ave  marias,  and  your  souls  will  instantly  be  as  pure  as 
they  were  at  the  moment  of  your  baptism."  The  mul- 
titude fell  on  their  knees  forthwith.  Then  determined 
to  outdo  himself,  Samson  cried  out,  "  I  deliver  from 
the  torments  of  purgatory  and  hell  the  souls  of  all  the 
people  of  Berne  who  have  departed  this  life,  whatsoever 
may  have  been  the  manner  or  the  place  of  their  death." 
These  mountebanks,  like  those  who  perform  at  fairs, 
always  reserved  their  most  astounding  feat  for  the  last. 

Samson,  now  heavily  laden  with  coin,  directed  his 
course  toward  Zurich,  through  the  Argan  and  Baden. 
As  he  proceeded  on  his  journey  this  Carmelite,  who 
had  made  so  sorry  a  figure  when  he  first  crossed  the 
Alps,  displayed  an  increasing  pomp  and  pride  of  retinue. 
The  bishop  of  Constance,  having  taken  umbrage  be- 
cause he  had  not  applied  to  him  to  legalize  his  bulls, 
had  forbidden  all  the  curates  of  his  diocese  to  open 
their  churches  to  him.  At  Baden,  however,  the  curate 
did  not  venture  to  persevere  in  obstructing  the  holy 
traffic.  The  monk's  effrontery  rose  to  a  higher  pitch. 
Pacing  round  the  church-yard  at  the  head  of  a  proces- 
sion, he  used  to  fix  his  eyes  on  some  object  in  the  air, 
while  his  acolytes  were  chanting  the  hymn  for  the 
dead,  and  pretending  that  he  saw  the  liberated  souls 
flying  up  from  the  church-yard  toward  heaven,  to  cry 
out :  "  Ecce  volant !  Behold  !  they  fly  !"  One  day  a 
man,  residing  in  the  neighbourhood,  found  his  way  into 
the  tower  of  the  church  and  mounted  to  the  belfry  ; 
presently  a  quantity  of  white  feathers  floated  in  the  air, 
and  fell  thickly  on  the  astonished  procession  :  "  Be- 
hold !  they  fly  !"  cried  the  waggish  citizen  of  Baden, 
from  his  lofty  perch,  still  shaking  more  feathers,  out 
of  a  pillow  that  he  had  unripped.  Many  of  the  by- 
standers laughed  heartily  at  the  jest.J  Samson,  on 
the  contrary,  was  greatly  incensed — nor  could  he  be 
appeased  until  assurances  were  given  him  that  the 
man  was  at  times  disordered  in  his  intellect.  He  left 
Baden  quite  crest-fallen. 

Pursuing  his  journey,  he  arrived  about  the  end  of 
February,  1519,  at  Bremgarten,  whither  he  had  been 
invited  by  the  Schultheiss,  and  the  second  curate  of 
the  town,  both  of  whom  had  seen  him  at  Baden.  The 
dean  of  Bremgarten,  Bullinger,  was  a  man,  than  whom 
none,  in  all  that  country,  stood  higher  in  public  esti- 
mation. He  was  but  ill-informed,  it  is  true,  as  to  the 
errors  of  the  Church,  and  imperfectly  acquainted  with 

*  Urn  cinem  Kuttgrowen  Hengst.     (Anshelm,  v.  335  :  J.  J. 
Hotting.    Helv.  K.  Gesch.  iii.  29.) 
t  A  quovis  perjurio.     (Muller's  Rcliv.  iv.  403.) 
J  Dessen  viel  luth  gnug  lachten.     (Bullinger,  MS.) 


the  word  of  God  ;  but  his  frank  disposition,  his  over, 
flowing  zeal,  his  eloquence,  his  liberality  to  the  poor- 
his  willingness  to  do  kind  offices  for  his  humble  neigh- 
bours, made  him  universally  beloved.  In  his  youth  he 
had  formed  a  connection  of  a  conscientious  kind  with 
the  daughter  of  a  councillor  of  the  same  town.  Such 
was  the  custom  with  those  members  of  the  priesthood, 
who  wished  to  avoid  a  life  of  profligacy.  Anna  had 
brought  him  five  children,  and  his  numerous  family  had 
in  no  degree  diminished  the  consideration  in  which  the 
Dean  was  held.  There  was  not  in  all  Switzerland  a 
more  hospitable  house  than  his.  Being  much  addicted 
to  the  chase,  he  was  often  seen,  surrounded  by  ten  or 
a  dozen  dogs,  and  accompanied  by  the  lords  of  Hall- 
wyll,  the  abbot  of  Mury,  and  the  patricians  of  Zurich, 
scouring  the  fields  and  forests  in  his  vicinity.  He 
kept  open  house,  and  not  one  among  all  his  guests 
was  a  blither  man  than  himself.  When  the  deputies, 
who  were  sent  to  the  Diet,  passed  through  Bremgarten, 
on  their  way  to  Baden,  they  never  failed  to  take  their 
seats  at  the  Dean's  table.  "  Bullinger,"  said  they 
''keeps  court  like  some  powerful  baron." 

Strangers,  when  they  visited  the  house,  were  sure 
to  remark  a  boy  of  intelligent  aspect,  whom  they  found 
among  its  inmates.  This  was  Henry,  one  of  the 
Dean's  sons.  The  child  in  his  earliest  years  had  pass- 
ed through  many  imminent  perils.  He  had  been 
seized  with  the  plague,  and  reduced  to  such  extremity, 
that  he  was  thought  to  be  dead — and  preparations 
were  making  for  his  burial,  when,  to  the  joy  of  his  pa- 
rents, he  gave  signs  that  he  was  yet  alive.  At  another 
time,  a  vagrant  enticed  him  from  the  house,  and  was 
carrying  him  off,  when  some  passers-by  recognized  and 
rescued  him.  At  the  age  of  three  years,  he  already 
knew  the  Lord's  prayer  and  the  Apostles'  creed  ;  and 
would  often  steal  into  the  church,  mount  his  father's 
pulpit,  gravely  stand  up  there,  and  repeat  at  the  full 
pitch  of  his  voice,  "  I  believe  in  God  the  Father,"  &c. 
&c.  When  he  was  twelve  years  old,  his  parents  sent 
him  to  the  grammar  school  of  Emmeric,  not  without 
feelings  of  strong  apprehension,  for  those  were  danger- 
ous times  for  an  inexperienced  boy.  Instances  were 
requent  of  students,  to  whom  the  discipline  of  a  uni- 
versity appeared  too  severe,  absconding  from  their  col- 
ege  in  troops,  carrying  children  along  with  them,  and 
encamping  in  the  woods — whence  they  sent  out  the 
youngest  of  their  party  to  beg,  or  else,  with  arms  in 
their  hands  attacked  travellers,  plundered  them,  and 
then  consumed  the  fruit  of  their  rapine  in  debauchery. 
Henry  was  happily  preserved  from  evil  in  his  new  and 
distant  abode.  Like  Luther  he  gained  his  subsistence 
)y  singing  at  the  doors  of  houses,  for  his  father  was 
resolved  that  he  should  learn  to  depend  on  his  own  re- 
sources. He  had  reached  the  age  of  sixteen  when  he 
irst  opened  a  New  Testament.  "  I  there  found,"  said 
le,  "  all  that  is  necessary  for  man's  salvation,  and  from 
hat  hour  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  we  must  follow 
he  Holy  Scriptures  alone,  and  reject  all  human  addi- 
ions.  I  neither  trust  the  Fathers,  nor  myself;  but  I 
explain  Scripture  by  Scripture,  adding  nothing,  and 
taking  nothing  away."*"  God  was  in  this  way  training 
up  the  youth,  who  was  afterward  to  be  the  successor 
of  Zwingle.  He  is  the  author  of  that  manuscript  chro- 
nicle from  which  we  so  frequently  quote. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Samson  arrived  at  Brem- 
garten, with  all  his  train.  The  stout-hearted  dean, 
not  in  the  least  intimidated  by  this  little  army  of  Ital- 
ans,  gave  notice  to  the  monk  that  he  must  not  vend 
lis  merchandise  within  his  jurisdiction.  The  schul- 
theiss,  the  town-council,  and  the  second  pastor,  all 
"riends  of  Samson,  were  assembled  in  a  room  of  the 
nn,  where  the  latter  had  taken  up  his  quarters,  and 
*  Bulling.  Epp.  Franz's  Merkw.  Zuge,  p.  19. 


SAMSON  AND  THE  DEAN— ZWINGLE'S  STRUGGLES— BATHS  OF  PFEFFERS.  205 


clustered  in  much  perplexity  round  the  irritated  monk. 
The  dean  entered  the  chamber.  "  Here  are  the  pope's 
bulls,"  said  the  monk,  "  open  your  church  to  me." 

THE  DEAV.  "  I  will  suffer  no  one,  under  colour 
of  unauthenticated  letters  like  these,  (for  the  bishop 
has  not  authenticated  them,)  to  squeeze  the  purses  of 
my  parishioners." 

THE  MONK — (in  a  solemn  tone.)  "  The  pope  is 
above  the  bishop.  I  charge  you  not  to  deprive  your 
flock  of  so  marvellous  a  grace." 

THE  DEAN,  "  Were  it  to  cost  me  my  life,  I  will 
not  open  my  church." 

THE  MONK — (in  great  anger.)  "Rebellious  priest! 
in  the  name  of  our  most  holy  lord,  the  pope,  I  pro- 
nounce against  thee  the  greater  excommunication — 
nor  will  I  grant  thee  absolution  until  thou  hast  paid  a 
penalty  of  three  hundred  ducats  for  this  unheard  of 
presumption." 

THE  DEAN — (turning  to  go  out  again.)  "  I  am  pre- 
pared to  answer  for  myself  before  my  lawful  judges  ;  as 
for  thee,  and  thy  excommunication,  I  have  nothing  to 
do  with  either." 

THE  MONK — (transported  with  rage.)  Headstrong 
beast  that  thou  art !  I  am  going  straight  to  Zurich, 
and  there  I  will  lodge  my  complaint  with  the  depu- 
ties of  the  confederation."* 

THE  DEAN.  "  I  can  show  myself  there  as  well  as 
thou,  and  thither  will  I  go." 

While  these  things  were  passing  at  Bremgarten, 
Zwingle,  who  saw  the  enemy  gradually  draw  nigh,  was 
preaching  with  great  vigour  against  indulgences. f  The 
vicar,  Faber,  of  Constance,  encouraged  him  in  this, 
and  promised  him  the  support  of  the  bishop. J  "  I 
know,"  said  Samson,  on  his  road  to  Zurich,  u  that 
Zwingle  will  speak  against  me ;  but  I  will  stop  his 
mouth."  Assuredly,  Zwingle  felt  too  deeply  the 
sweetness  of  the  pardoning  grace  of  Christ,  to  refrain 
from  attacking  the  paper  pardons  of  these  presumptu- 
ous men.  Like  Luther,  he  often  trembled  on  account 
of  sin  ;  but  in  the  Saviour  he  found  deliverance  from 
his  fears.  Humble,  yet  strong-minded,  he  was  contin- 
ually advancing  in  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord.  "  When 
Satan,"  said  he,  "  attempts  to  terrify  me,  crying  aloud : 
*  Lo  !  this  and  that  thou  hast  left  undone,  though  God 
has  commanded  it !' — the  gentle  voice  of  the  Gospel 
brings  me  instant  comfort,  for  it  whispers :  '  What 
thou  canst  not  do,  (and,  of  a  truth,  thou  canst  do  no- 
thing,) that  Christ  does  for  thee,  and  does  it  thorough- 
ly.' "  "  Yes  !"  continued  the  pious  evangelist,  "when 
my  heart  is  wrung  with  anguish,  by  reason  of  my  im- 
potence, and  the  weakness  of  the  flesh,  my  spirit  re- 
vives at  the  sound  of  these  joyful  words  :  '  Christ  is 
thy  sinlessness  !  Christ  is  thy  righteousness  !  Christ  is 
the  Alpha  and  the  Omega  !  Christ  is  the  beginning  and 
the  <>nd  !  Christ  is  all !  he  can  do  all  i$  All  created 
things  will  disappoint  and  deceive  thee  ;  but  Christ — 
the  sinless  and  the  righteous — will  accept  thee.  Yes  ! 
it  is  he  !"  exclaimed  Zwingle,  *'  who  is  our  righteous- 
ness, and  the  righteousness  of  all  those  who  shall  ap- 
pear as  righteous  for  ever  before  the  throne  of  God  !" 

Confronted  by  truths  like  these,  the  indulgences 
could  never  stand.  Zwingle,  therefore,  hesitated  not 
to  attack  them.  "  No  man,"  said  he,  "  has  power  to 
remit  sins,  except  Christ  alone,  who  is  very  God 
and  very  man  in  one.li  Go,  if  thou  wilt,  and  buy  in- 

*  Du  freche  Bestie  .  .  &c.    (Bullinger,  MS.) 

f  Ich  predgete  streng  wider  d«r  Pabsts  Ablas  ..  .  .  (Zw. 
Opp.  2. 1st  part,  p.  7.) 

{  Und  hat  Trick  darin  gestarkt :  er  welle  mir  mit  allcr  triiw 
byston.  (Ibid.) 

^  Christus  est  innoccntia  tua ;  Christus  est  justitia  et  puritas 
tua ;  Christus  est  salus  tua  ;  tu  nihil  es,  tu  nihilpotes  ;  Chris- 
tus est  A  et ;  Christus  est  prora  et  puppis  j  Christus  est 
omnia  .  .  (Zw.  Opp.  i.  207.) 

U  Nisi  Christus  Jesus,  verus  Deus  et  verus  homo.  (Ibid.  412.) 


dulgences  ;  but  be  assured,  that  thou  art  in  no  wise 
absolved.  They  who  sell  the  remission  of  sins  for 
money,  are  but  companions  of  Simon,  the  magician, 
the  friends  of  Balaam,  the  ambassadors  of  Satan." 

The  worthy  Dean  Bullinger,  still  heated  by  his  al- 
tercation with  the  monk,  arrived  before  him  at  Zurich. 
He  came  to  lay  a  complaint  before  the  Diet,  against 
the  shameless  trafficker  and  his  fraudulent  trade.  De- 
puties sent  by  the  bishop,  on  the  same  errand,  were 
already  on  the  spot,  with  whom  he  made  common  cause. 
Assurances  of  support  were  proffered  him  on  all  hands. 
The  same  spirit  which  animated  Zwingle,  was  now 
breathing  over  the  whole  city.  The  council  of  state 
resolved  to  prohibit  the  monk  from  entering  Zurich. 

Samson  had  arrived  in  the  suburbs,  and  alighted  at 
an  inn.  Already  he  had  his  foot  in  the  stirrup,  to  make 
his  entry  into  the  city,  when  he  was  accosted  by  mes- 
sengers from  the  council,  who  offered  him  the  hono- 
rary wine-cup,  as  an  agent  of  the  pope,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  intimated  to  him  that  he  might  forego  his 
intention  of  appearing  in  Zurich.  "  I  have  somewhat 
to  communicate  to  the  Diet,  in  the  name  of  his  Holi- 
ness," replied  the  monk.  This  was  only  a  stratagem. 
It  was  determined,  however,  that  he  should  be  admit- 
ted ;  but  as  he  spoke  of  nothing  but  his  bulls,  he  was 
dismissed,  after  having  been  forced  to  withdraw  the 
excommunication  he  had  pronounced  against  the  Dean 
of  Bremgarten.  He  departed  in  high  dudgeon  ;  and 
soon  after  the  pope  recalled  him  into  Italy.  A  cart, 
drawn  by  three  horses,  and  loaded  with  coin,  obtained 
under  false  pretences  from  the  poor,  rolled  before  him 
over  those  steep  roads  of.the  St.  Gothard,  along  which 
he  had  passed  eight  months  before,  indigent,  unattend- 
ed, and  encumbered  by  no  burden  save  his  papers.* 

The  Helvetic  Diet  showed  more  resolution  at  this 
lime  than  the  Diet  of  Germany.  The  reason  was,  that 
no  bishops  or  cardinals  had  seats  in  it.  And  accord- 
ingly, the  pope,  unsupported  by  those  auxiliaries,  was 
more  guarded  in  his  proceedings  toward  Switzerland 
than  toward  Germany.  Besides  this,  the  affair  of  the 
indulgences,  which  occupies  so  prominent  a  place  in 
the  narrative  of  the  German  Reformation,  forms  but 
an  episode  in  the  history  of  the  Reformation  in  Swit- 
zerland. 

Zwingle's  zeal  overlooked  all  considerations  of  per- 
sonal ease  or  health  ;  but  continued  toil,  at  last,  ren- 
dered relaxation  necessary.  He  was  ordered  to  repair 
to  the  baths  of  Pfeffers.  "  Oh!"  said  Herus,  one  of 
the  pupils  resident  in  his  house,  who  in  this  parting  sa- 
lutation gave  utterance  to  a  feeling  which  was  shared 
by  all  to  whom  Zwingle  was  known,  "  had  I  a  hun- 
dred tongues,  a  hundred  mouths,  and  a  voice  of  iron, 
as  Virgil  says — or  rather,  had  I  the  eloquence  of  Ci- 
cero, never  could  I  express  how  much  I  owe  you,  or 
how  much  pain  I  feel  from  this  separation."!  Zwingle, 
however,  was  constrained  to  go.  His  journey  to  Pfef- 
fers led  him  through  the  frightful  gorge,  formed  by  the 
impetuous  torrent  of  the  Jamina.  He  descended  into 
that  '  infernal  gulf,'  to  use  the  phrase  of  Daniel  the 
Hermit,  and  reached  the  baths  of  which  he  was  in 
quest — a  site  continually  shaken  by  the  din  of  the  tum- 
bling torrent,  and  moistened  by  the  cloud  of  spray  that 
rises  from  its  shattered  waters.  In  the  house  in  which 
Zwingle  was  lodged,  it  was  necessary  to  burn  torches  at 
noon-day  ;  and  it  was  the  belief  of  the  neighbourhood, 
that  fearful  spectres  might  sometimes  be  descried  glid- 
ing to  and  fro  amidst  the  darkness  ;  and  yet,  even  here, 
he  found  an  opportunity  of  serving  his  Master.  His 
affability  won  the  hearts  of  many  of  the  invalids  assem- 

*  Und  fi'ihrt  mit  ihm  cin  threspendiger  Schatz  an  gelt  dea 
er  armea  liithen  abgelogen  hat.  (Bullinger,  MS.) 

t  Etiamsi  mihi  sint  linguae  centum,  smt  oraque  centum,  fer 
rea  vox,  ut  Virgilius  ait,  aut  potius  Ciceroniana  eloquentia- 
(Zw.  Ep.  p.  8-1.) 


206 


THE  CRITICAL  MOMENT— ZWINGLE  AFFLICTED— THE  HYMNS. 


bled  at  the  baths.  Of  this  number  was  the  celebrated 
poet,  Philip  Ingentinus,  a  professor  of  Friburg,  in  the 
Brisgau,*  who,  from  that  time,  became  a  strenuous 
supporter  of  the  Reformation. 

God  was  watching  over  his  work,  and  it  was  his  will 
to  hasten  it.  The  defect  of  Zwingle  consisted  in  his 
strength.  Strong  in  bodily  constitution,  strong  in  cha- 
racter, strong  in  talent,  he  was  destined  to  sea  all  his 
strength  laid  low  in  the  dust,  that  he  might  become 
such  an  instrument  as  God  loves  best  to  employ. 
There  was  a  baptism  with  which  he  yet  needed  to  be 
baptized — the  baptism  of  adversity,  infirmity,  weak- 
ness, and  pain.  Luther  had  received  it  in  that  season 
of  anguish,  when  piercing  cries  burst  forth  from  his 
narrow  cell,  and  echoed  through  the  long  corridors  of 
the  convent  at  Erfurth.  Zwingle  was  to  receive  it  by 
being  brought  into  contact  with  sickness  and  death. 
In  the  history  of  the  heroes  of  this  world — of  such  men 
as  Charles  XII.  or  Napoleon — there  is  always  a  cri- 
tical moment,  which  shapes  their  career,  and  insures 
their  future  glory.  It  is  that  in  which  a  consciousness 
of  their  own  strength  is  suddenly  imparted  to  them. 
And  a  moment  not  less  decisive  than  this — though 
stamped  with  an  impress  altogether  different — is  to  be 
found  in  the  life  of  every  heroic  servant  of  God  ;  it  is 
that  moment  in  which  he  first  recognises  his  absolute 
helplessness  and  nothingness  ;  then  it  is  that  the 
strength  of  God  is  communicated  to  him  from  on  high. 
A  work  such  as  that  which  Zwingle  was  called  to  per- 
form, is  never  accomplished  in  the  natural  strength  of 
man  ;  it  would,  in  that  case,  come  to  nought,  just  as  a 
tree  must,  wither  which  is  planted  in  its  full  maturity 
and  vigour.  The  plant  must  be  weak,  or  its  roots  will 
never  strike ;  the  grain  must  die  in  the  earth,  or  it  can- 
not bring  forth  much  fruit.  God  was  about  to  lead 
Zwingle,  and,  with  him,  the  work  which  seemed  to 
be  dependant  on  him  for  success,  to  the  very  gates  of 
the  grave.  It  is  from  amidst  the  dry  bones,  the  dark- 
ness and  the  dust  of  death,  that  God  delights  to  raise 
His  instruments,  when  He  designs  to  scatter  light  and 
regeneration  and  vitality  over  the  face  of  the  earth. 

While  Zwingle  was  buried  among  the  stupendous 
rocks  that  overhang  the  headlong  torren;  of  the  Jami- 
na,  he  suddenly  received  intelligence  that  the  plague, 
or  the  "great  death,"t  as  it  was  called,  had  visited 
Zurich.  This  terrible  malady  broke  out  in  August, 
on  St.  Lawrence's  day,  and  lasted  till  Candlemas, 
sweeping  away,  during  that  period,  no  fewer  than  two 
thousand  five  hundred  souls.  The  young  people  who 
resided  under  Zwingle's  roof,  had  immediately  quitted 
it,  according  to  the  directions  he  had  left  behind  him. 
His  house  was  deserted,  therefore  ;  but  it  was  his 
time  to  return  to  it.  He  set  out  from  Pfeffers,  in  all 
haste,  and  appeared  once  more  among  his  flock,  which 
the  disease  had  grievously  thinned.  His  young  bro- 
ther, Andrew,  who  would  gladly  have  stayed  to  at- 
tend upon  him,  he  sent  back  at  once  to  Wildhaus,  and, 
from  that  moment,  gave  himself  up  entirely  to  the  vic- 
tims of  that  dreadful  scourge.  It  was  his  daily  task 
to  testify  of  Christ  and  his  consolations  to  the  siek.t 
His  friends,  while  they  rejoiced  to  see  him  still  un- 
harmed, while  the  arrows  of  pestilence  were  flying 
thick  around  him,$  were  visited,  nevertheless,  with 
many  secret  misgivings  on  his  account.  "  Do  good," 

*  Illic  turn  comitatem  tuam  e  sinu  uberrimo  profluentem 
non  injucunde  sum  expertus.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  119.) 

f  Der  Grosse  Tod.     (Bullinger,  MS.) 

{  Ut  in  major!  periculo  sis  quod  in  dies  de  novo  exponas 
dum  invisis  segrotis.  (Bullinger,  MS.)  M.de  Chateaubri- 
and  had  forgotten  this  fact,  and  a  thousand  similar  ones,  when 
he  remarked  that  "  the  Protestant  pastor  abandons  the  helpless 
on  the  bed  of  death,  and  is  never  seen  rushing  into  the  grasp 
of  the  pestilence."  (Essay  on  English  Literature.) 

^  Plurimum  gaudeo  te  inter  tot  jactus  telorum  versantem 
Ulasum  hactenus  evasisse.  (Ibid.) 


was  the  language  of  a  letter  written  to  him  from  Bale,  by 
onrad  Brunner,  who  himself  died  of  the  plague  a  few 
months  afterward  ;  "  but,  at  the  same  time,  be  advised 
;o  take  care  of  your  own  life."  The  caution  came  too 
ate;  Zwingle  had  been  seized  by  the  plague.  The  great 
jreacher  of  Switzerland  was  stretched  on  a  bed  from 
which  it  was  probable  he  might  never  rise.  He  now 
;urned  his  thoughts  upon  the  state  of  his  own  soul, 
and  lifted  up  his  eyes  to  God.  He  knew  that  Christ 
lad  given  him  a  sure  inheritance  ;  and,  pouring  forth 
the  feelings  of  his  heart,  in  a  hymn  full  of  unction  and 
simplicity,  the  sense  and  the  rhythm  of  which  we  will 
endeavour  to  exhibit,  though  we  should  fail  in  the  at- 
empt to  copy  its  natural  and  primitive  cast  of  language, 
le  cried  aloud  : 

Lo !  at  my  door 
Gaunt  death  I  spy;* 
Hear,  Lord  of  life, 
Thy  creature's  cry  ! 

The  arm  that  hung 
Upon  the  tree, 
Jesus,  uplift, 
And  rescue  me. 

Yet,  if  to  quench 
My  sun  at  noon 
Be  thy  behest, f 
Thy  will  be  done  ! 

In  faith  and  hope 
Earth  I  resign, 
Secure  of  heaven — 
For  I  am  thine  ! 

The  disease,  in  the  meantime,  gained  ground.  His 
'riends,  in  deep  affliction,  beheld  the  man  on  whom  the 
lopes  of  Switzerland  and  of  the  church  reposed,  ready 
to  be  swallowed  up  by  the  grave.  His  bodily  power* 
and  natural  faculties  were  forsaking  him.  His  heart 
was  smitten  with  dismay,  yet  he  found  strength  suffi- 
cient left  him  to  turn  toward  God,  and  to  cry  : 

Fierce  grow  my  pains  ; 
Help,  Lord,  in  haste  ! 
For  flesh  and  heart 
Are  failing  fast. 

Clouds  wrap  my  sight, 
My  tongue  is  dumb, 
Lord,  tarry  not, 
The  hour  is  come  !+ 

In  Satan's  grasp, 
On  hell's  dark  brink, 
My  spirit  reels — 
Ah !  must  I  sink  ? 

No !  Jesus,  no  ! 
Him  I  defy, 
While  here  beneath 
Thy  cross  I  lie. 

The  canon,  Hoffman,  sincerely  attached  to  the  creed 
which  he  professed,  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  seeing 
Zwingls  die  in  the  errors  which  he  had  inculcated. 
He  waited  on  the  principal  of  the  chapter.  "  Think/' 

*  Ich  mein  der  Tod, 

Syn  an  der  Thiir.      (Zw.  Opp.  2.  3d  part,  p.  270.) 
f  WiUt  du  dann  glych 

Tod  haben  mich 

In  mits  der  Tagen  min 

So  soil's  willig  sin.     (Ibid.) 
J  Nun  ist  es  um 

Min  zung  ist  stumra 

Darum  ist  Zyt 
J>as  du  min  stryt. 


ZWINGLE'S  FRIENDS— GENERAL  JOY— EFFECT  OF  THE  VISITATION.         207 


said  he,  "  of  the  peril  of  his  soul.  Has  he  not  given 
the  name  of  fantastical  innovators  to  all  the  doctors 
who  have  taught  for  the  last  three  hundred  and  eighty 
years,  and  upward — Alexander,  of  Hales  ;  Saint  Bo- 
naventura  ;  Albertus  Magnus ;  Thomas  Aquinas  ;  and 
all  the  canonists '?  Does  he  not  affirm  that  the  doc 
trines  they  have  broached  are  no  better  than  dreams, 
into  which  they  have  fallen,  with  their  hoods  over  their 
eyes,  in  the  gloomy  corners  of  their  cloisters  ?  Alas  ! 
it  would  have  been  better  for  the  city  of  Zurich,  had 
he  ruined  our  vintages  and  harvests  for  many  a  year  ; 
and  now,  he  is  at  death's-door !  I  beseech  you,  save 
his  poor  soul !"  It  would  appear  that  the  principal 
more  enlightened  than  the  canon,  did  not  think  it  ne- 
cessary to  convert  Zwingle  to  St.  Bonaventura  and 
Albertus  Magnus.  He  was  left  undisturbed. 

Great  was  the  consternation  that  prevailed  through- 
out the  city.  The  believers  cried  to  God  night  and 
day,  earnestly  entreating  that  He  would  restore  their 
faithful  pastor.*  The  alarm  had  spread  from  Zurich 
to  the  mountains  of  Tockenburg.  Even  in  that  ele- 
vated region  the  plague  had  made  its  appearance. 
Seven  or  eight  persons  had  fallen  a  prey  to  it  in  the 
village  ;  among  these  was  a  servant  of  Nicholas,  Zwin- 
gle's brother.!  No  tidings  were  received  from  the 
Reformer.  "  Let  me  know,"  wrote  young  Andrew 
Zwingle,  "  what  is  thy  state,  my  beloved  brother  ! 
The  abbot,  and  all  our  brothers  salute  thee."  It 
would  seem  that  Zwingle's  parents  were  already  dead, 
since  they  are  not  mentioned  here. 

The  news  of  Zwingle's  illness,  followed  by  a  report 
of  his  death,  was  circulated  throughout  Switzerland 
and  Germany.  "Alas!"  exclaimed  Hedio,  in  tears, 
''  the  deliverer  of  our  country,  the  trumpet  of  the  Gos- 
pel, the  magnanimous  herald  of  the  truth  is  stricken 
with  death,  in  the  flower  and  spring-tide  of  his  age  !  + 
When  the  intelligence  reached  Bale  that  Zwingle°was 
no  more,  the  whole  city  resounded  with  lamentations. $ 

But  that  glimmering  spark  of  life,  which  had  been 
left  unquenched,  began  now  to  burn  more  brightly. 
Though  labouring  still  under  great  bodily  weakness, 
his  soul  was  impressed  with  a  deep  persuasion,  that 
God  had  called  him  to  replace  the  candle  of  His  word, 
on  the  deserted  candlestick  of  the  Church.  The  plague 
had  relinquished  its  victim.  With  strong  emotion 
Zwingle  now  exclaimed  : — 

My  father  God 
Behold  me  whole/ 
Again  on  earth 
A  living  soul ! 

Let  sin  no  more 
My  heart  annoy, 
But  fill  it,  Lord, 
With  holyjoy 

Though  now  delayed, 
My  hour  must  come, 
Involved,  perchance, 
In  deeper  gloom  jj 

It  matters  not ; 

Rejoicing  yet 

I'll  bear  my  yoke 

To  heaven's  bright  gitc.1T 

*  Alle  glaubige  rufften  Gott  treuwillich  an,  dass  er  ihren 
getreuwen  Hirten  weider  ufrichte.  (Bullinger,  MS.) 

f  Nicolas  vero  germane  nostro  etiam  obiitservus  suus,  at- 
tamen  non  in  scdibus  suis.  (Zw.  Epp.  88.) 

|  Quis  enim  non  doleat  publicam  patrise  salutem,  tubam 
Evangelii,  magnanimuim  veritatis  bucinatorem  languere. 
intercidcre.  .  .  (Ibid.  90) 

<j)  Heu  quantum  luctus  fatis  Zwinglium  concessisse  impor- 
tunus  ille  rumor  suo  vehementi  impetu  divulgavit.  (Ibid.  91.) 

||  These  words  were  fulfilled  in  a  remarkable  manner 
twelve  years  afterwards,  on  the  bloody  field  of  Cappt-1. 
IT  So  will  ich  doch 
Den  trutz  uad  poch 


As  soon  as  he  was  able  to  hold  a  pen,  (it  was  about 
the  beginning  of  November,)  he  wrote  to  his  family. 
Unspeakable  was  the  joy  which  his  letter  imparted*  to 
all  his  relatives,  but  especially  to  his  younger  brother, 
Andrew,  who  himself  died  of  the  plague  in  the  course 
of  the  following  year,  leaving  Ulrich,  to  lament  his  loss 
with  tears  and  cries,  surpassing  the  measure, — as  he 
himself  remarks — even  of  a  woman's  passion. t  At 
Bale,  Conrad  Brunncr,  Zwingle's  friend,  and  Bruno 
Amerbach,  the  celebrated  printer — both  young  men — 
had  been  carried  to  the  grave  after  three  days'  illness. 
It  was  believed  in  that  city,  that  Zwingle  also  had  per- 
ished. There  was  a  general  expression  of  grief  through- 
out the  university.  "  He  whom  God  loves,"  said 
they,  "  is  made  perfect  in  the  morning  of  life."t  But 
what  was  their  joy  when  tidings  were  brought  first  by 
Collinus,  a  student  from  Lucerne,  and  afterwards  by  a 
merchant  of  Zurich,  that  Zwingle  had  been  snatched 
from  the  brink  of  the  grave.  §  The  vicar  of  the  Bi- 
shop of  Constance,  John  Faber,  that  early  friend  of  Zwin- 
gle who  was  afterwards  his  most  violent  opponent,  wrote 
to  him  on  this  occasion  :  "  Oh,  my  beloved  Ulrich ! 
what  joy  does  it  give  me  to  learn  that  thou  hast  been 
delivered  from  the  jaws  of  the  cruel  pestilence.  When 
thy  life  is  in  jeapordy,  the  Christian  commonwealth 
has  cause  to  tremble.  The  Lord  has  seen  it  good  by 
this  trial  to  incite  thee  to  a  more  earnest  pursuit  of 
eternal  life." 

This  was  indeed  the  end  which  the  Lord  had  in 
view  in  subjecting  Zwingle  to  trial,  and  the  end  was 
attained,  but  in  another  way  than  Faber  contemplated. 
This  pestilence  of  the  year  1519,  which  committed 
such  frightful  ravage  in  the  north  of  Switzerland,  be- 
came an  effectual  agent  in  the  hands  of  God  for  the 
conversion  of  many  souls.ll  But  on  no  one  did  it  exer- 
cise so  powerful  an  influence  as  on  Zwingle.  The 
Gospel  which  he  had  heretofore  embraced  as  a  mere 
doctrine,  now  became  a  great  reality.  He  rose  from 
the  dark  borders  of  the  tomb  with  a  new  heart.  His 
zeal  became  more  ardent,  his  life  more  holy,  his 
preaching  more  free,  more  Christian,  more  persuasive. 
This  was  the  epoch  of  Zwingle's  complete  emancipa- 
tion :  henceforward  he  devoted  himself  entirely  to  God. 
But  along  with  the  Reformer,  the  Reformation,  also, 
of  Switzerland  received  new  life.  The  scourge  of 
God,  "  the  great  death,"  while  it  ranged  over  those 
mountains,  and  swept  along  those  valleys,  impressed 
a  character  of  deeper  holiness  on  the  movement  which 
was  taking  place  within  their  bosom.  The  Reforma- 
tion, as  well  as  Zwingle,  was  immersed  in  the  waters 
of  sanctified  affliction,  and  came  forth  endued  with  a 
purer  and  more  vigorous  vitality.  It  was  a  memorable 
season  in  the  dispensations  of  God  for  the  regenera- 
tion of  the  Swiss  people. 

Zwingle  derived  an  accession  of  that  strength,  of 
which  he  stood  so  much  in  need,  from  his  renewed 
communion  with  his  friends.  With  Myconius  espe- 
cially, he  was  united  by  the  bonds  of  a  strong  affection. 

In  diser  welt 
Tragcn  frolich 
Urn  widergelt. 

Although  these  three  fragments  of  poetry  have  their  re- 
spective dates  attached  to  them, "at  the  beginning,  in  the  mid- 
dle, at  the  end,  of  the  sickness,"  and  truly  represent  the  feel- 
ings of  Zwingle  at  the  different  epochs,  it  is  probable  that 
•hey  were  not  thrown  into  the  form  into  which  we  now 
find  them,  until  after  his  recovery.  (See  Bullinger,  MS  ) 

Inspectis  tuis  litteris  incredibilis  quidam  sestus   Isetitia 
pectus  nenm  subiit.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  88.) 
}  Ejulatum  et  luctumplusquam  femineum.    (Ibid.  155.) 
t  OvT£dtoi(j>i\(Ouai  vcaviffxos  T£\tv~q.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  90.) 
{;  E  diris  te  mortis  faucibus  felicitei  ereptum  negotiator 
quidam  tigurinus.     (Ibid.  91.) 

||  Als  die  Pestilentz  im  Jahre  1519,  in  dieser  Gegend  gra». 
sirte,  viele  neigten  sich  zu  einem  bessern  Leben.  (Georg. 
Vogeliu.  Rif.  Hist  Fusslin  Beytr.  iv.  174.) 


208 


MYCONIUS  AND  XYLOCTECT— MYCONIUS  GOES  TO  LUCERNE. 


They  walked  side  by  side,  each  supporting  the  other, 
like  Luther  and  Melancthon.  Oswald  was  happy  at 
Zurich.  His  position  there  was  a  constrained  one,  it 
is  true  ;  but  the  virtues  of  his  modest  wife  made  him 
amends  for  all  his  discomforts.  It  was  of  her  that 
Glareanus  said  :  "  Could  I  meet  a  young  woman  re- 
sembling her,  I  would  prefer  her  to  a  king's  daughter." 
The  enjoyment  which  Zwingle  and  Myconius  found  in 
their  reciprocal  friendship  was  sometimes  broken  in 
upon,  however,  by  the  voice  of  a  faithful  monitor. 
That  monitor  was  the  canon,  Xyloctect,  who  was  con- 
tinually calling  .on  Myconius  to  return  to  Lucerne,  the 
place  of  his  birth.  "  Zurich  is  not  thy  country,"  said 
he,  "but  Lucerne.  Thou  sayest  that  the  Zurichers 
are  thy  friends  :  I  acknowledge  it ;  but  canst  thou  tell 
how  it  will  fare  with  thee  when  the  shadows  of  evening 
begin  to  fall  on  thy  path  1  Remember  thy  duty  to  thy 
country.*  such  is  rny  desire,  my  entreaty,  and  if  I  may 
so  speak,  my  command  !"  Following  up  his  words 
by  acts,  Xyloctect  caused  Myconius  to  be  elected  rec- 
tor of  the  collegiate  school  of  his  native  city.  Oswald 
then  hesitated  no  longer  ;  he  saw  the  finger  of  God  in 
this  nomination,  and  great  as  was  the  sacrifice  de- 
manded of  him,  he  resolved  to  make  it.  Might  it  not 
be  the  will  of  the  Lord  to  employ  him  as  His  instru- 
ment in  publishing  the  doctrine  of  peace  in  the  warlike 
canton  of  Lucerne  1  But  how  shall  we  describe  the 
parting  between  Zwingle  and  Myconius  ?  On  either 
side,  their  farewell  was  accompanied  with  tears.  "  Thy 
departure,"  observed  Ulrich,  in  a  letter  written  to  Os- 
wald shortly  afterwards,  "  has  been  such  a  discourage- 
ment to  the  cause  which  I  defend,  as  can  only  be  com- 
pared to  that  which  would  be  felt  by  an  army  drawn 
•up  in  order  of  battle,  were  it  suddenly  deprived  of  one 
of  its  wings,f  Alas  !  now  I  feel  the  value  of  my  My- 
conius and  can  perceive  how  often,  when  I  dreamed 
not  of  it,  he  has  upheld  the  cause  of  Christ !" 

Zwingle  felt  the  loss  of  his  friend  the  more  acutely, 
by  reason  of  the  debilitated  state  to  which  the  plague 
had  reduced  him.  "  It  has  enfeebled  my  memory," 
he  complains,  in  a  letter,  dated  30th  of  November,  1519, 
"  and  prostrated  my  spirits."  While  he  was  yet  scarcely 
convalescent,  he  had  resumed  all  his  labours.  "  But," 
said  he,  "  I  often,  in  preaching,  lose  the  thread  of  my 
discourse.  My  whole  frame  is  oppressed  with  languor, 
and  I  am  little  better  than  a  dead  man."  Beside  this, 
Zwingle's  opposition  to  indulgences  had  aroused  the 
animosity  of  those  who  supported  them.  Oswald  en- 
couraged his  friend  by  the  letters  he  wrote  to  him  from 
Lucerne.  Was  not  the  Lord  at  this  moment,  giving 
a  pledge  of  his  readiness  to  help,  by  the  protection 
which  he  afforded,  in  Saxony,  to  the  mighty  champion 
who  had  gained  such  signal  victories  over  Rome  1 — 
*'  What  thinkest  thou,"  said  Myconius  to  Zwingle,"  of 
the  cause  of  Luther  ?  For  my  part,  I  have  no  fear 
either  for  the  Gospel  or  for  him.  If  God  does  not 
protect  his  truth,  by  whom  else  shall  it  be  protected  ] 
All  that  I  ask  of  the  Lord  is,  that  he  will  not  withdraw 
his  hand  from  those  who  have  nothing  so  dear  to  them 
as  his  Gospel.  Go  on  as  thou  hast  begun,  and  an 
abundant  reward  shall  be  bestowed  upon  thee  in  hea- 
ven." 

The  arrival  of  an  old  friend,  at  this  time,  brought 
some  comfort  to  Zwingle,  in  his  grief  for  the  removal 
of  Myconius.  Bunzli,  who  had  been  Ulrich's  master 
at  Bale,  and  who  had  since  succeeded  the  Dean  of 
Wesen,  the  Reformer's  uncle,  arrived  at  Zurich,  in 
the  first  week  of  the  year,  1520,  and  Zwingle  and  he 

*  Patriam  cole,  suadeo  et  obsecro,  et  si  hoe  possum  jubeo. 
(Xyloctect  Myconio.) 

j  Nam  TBS  meae,  te  abeunte,  non  sunt  minus  accisae  quam 
si  exercitui  in  prociuctu  stanti  altare  alarum  abstergatur 
(Zw.  Epp.  p.  »S.) 


formed  the  resolution  of  taking  a  journey  to  Bale,  to- 
gether, to  see  their  common  friends.*  Zwingle's  visit 
to  Bale  was  not  unproductive  of  good.  "  Oh,  rny  dear 
Zwingle  !"  wrote  John  Glother,  at  a  later  period,  "  ne- 
ver shall  I  forget  thee  !  My  gratitude  is  thy  due  for 
the  kindness  displayed  by  thee,  during  thy  stay  at  Bale, 
in  visiting  me  as  thou  didst — me,  a  poor  schoolmaster, 
a  man,  without  name,  without  learning,  without  merit, 
and  in  a  low  condition.  My  affections  thou  hast  won 
by  that  elegance  of  manners,  that  indescribable  fasci- 
nation, by  which  thou  subduest  all  hearts — and,  I  might 
almost  say,  the  very  stones. "f  But  Zwingle's  earlier 
friends  derived  still  greater  benefit  from  his  visit.  Ca- 
pito  and  Hedio,  with  many  others,  were  electrified  by 
his  powerful  discourses  ;  and  the  former,  adopting  the 
same  course  at  Bale  which  Zwingle  had  pursued  at 
Zurich,  began  to  expound  St.  Matthew's  Gospel  to  an 
auditory  which  continually  increased  in  numbers.  The 
doctrine  of  Christ  manifested  its  power  in  searching 
and  warming  the  heart.  The  people  received  it  with  joy, 
and  hailed  the  revival  of  Christianity  with  eager  accla- 
mations. J  The  Reformation  had  already  dawned.  A 
proof  of  this  was  soon  seen  in  a  conspiracy  of  priests 
and  monks,  which  was  formed  against  Capito.  Albert, 
the  young  Cardinal-archbishop  of  Mentz,  who  was  de- 
sirous to  attach  so  learned  a  man  to  his  person,  took 
advantage  of  this  circumstance,  and  invited  him  to  his 
court.  Capito,  seeing  the  difficulties  with  which  he 
was  surrounded,  accepted  the  invitation. §  The  people 
thought  themselves  aggrieved,  their  indignation  was 
roused  against  the  priests,  and  the  city  was  thrown  in- 
to commotion.il  Hedio  was  spoken  of  as  Capito's 
successor  ;  but  some  objected  to  his  youth,  and  others 
said:— "He  is  his  disciple!"  "The  truth,"  said  He- 
dio, "  is  of  too  pungent  a  quality.  There  are  suscep- 
tible ears,  which  it  cannot  fail  to  wound,  and  which 
are  not  to  be  wounded  with  impunity. "^T  No  matter ! 
I  will  not  be  turned  aside  from  the  straight  road," — 
The  monks  redoubled  their  efforts.  "  Beware,"  was 
their  language  in  the  pulpit,  "  of  giving  credence  to 
those  who  tell  you  that  the  sum  of  Christian  doctrine 
is  to  be  found  in  the  Gospels,  and  in  the  Epistles  of 
St.  Paul.  Scotus  has  rendered  greater  service  to 
Christianity  than  Paul  himself.  All  the  learning  that 
has  been  preached  and  published  has  been  stolen  from 
Scotus.  The  utmost  that  certain  persons  have  been 
able  to  achieve,  in  their  attempts  to  gain  a  reputation 
for  themselves,  has  been  to  mix  up  a  few  words  of 
Greek  and  Hebrew  with  his  matter,  so  as  to  perplex 
and  darken  the  whole."** 

The  tumult  continued  to  increase  ;  there  was  reason 
to  fear  that,  after  Capito's  departure,  the  opposition 
would  become  still  more  powerful.  "I  shall  be  left 
almost  alone,  weak  and  insignificant  as  I  am,"  said 
Hedio,"  to  struggle  with  those  formidable  monsters.''ft 
In  this  emergency,  he  betook  himself  to  God  for  suc- 
cour— and,  in  a  letter  to  Zwingle  expressed  himself 
thus  : — "  Support  my  courage  by  frequent  letters. — 
Learning  and  religion  are  now  between  the  hammer 
and  the  anvil.  Luther  has  been  condemned  by  the 
universities  of  Louvain  and  Cologne.  If  ever  the  church 
was  in  imminent  peril,  she  is  so  at  this  hourT'+t 

'Zw.Epp.  p.  103  and  111. 

fMorum  tuorum  elegantia.  suavitasque  incredibilis,  qua 
omnes  tibi  devincis.  etiam  lapides,  ut  sic  dixerim.  (Ibid.  133.) 

+  Renascent!  Christianismomirumqnamfaveant.  (Ibid  120.) 

^  Cardinalis  illic  invitavit  amplissimis  conitionibus    (Itiid.) 

1|  Tumultus  exoritur  et  maxima  indignatio  vvilgi  erga 
lepts  (Ibid.) 

IT  Auriculas  teneras  mordaci  radere  vero  non  usque  adeo 
tutum  est.  .  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  120.) 

**  Scotum  plus  profuisse  rei  Christianae  quam  ipsum  Paulum 
.  .  .  quicquid  eruditum  furatum  ex  Scoto. 

ft  Cum  pestelentissimis  monstris.     (Ibid.) 

jt  Si  unquatn  imminebat  pcriculum,  jam  imminet.  (Ibid. 
17th  March,  1520.; 


THE  UNNATURAL  SON— ZWINGLE'S  GENTLENESS. 


209 


Capito  quitted  Bale  for  Mentz  on  the  28th  of  April : 
and  Hedio  succeeded  him.  Not  content  with  the  pub- 
lic assemblies  which  were  held  in  the  church,  where 
he  continued  the  lectures  on  Saint  Matthew,  he  resolv- 
ed, as  he  wrote  to  Luther,  to  institute,  in  the  ensuing 
month  of  June,  private  meetings  in  his  own  house,  that 
he  might  impart  more  familiar  instruction  in  the  Gospel 
to  such  as  should  desire  it.  This  powerful  method  of 
communicating  religious  knowledge,  and  awakening 
the  concern  and  affection  of  believers  for  divine  things, 
could  not  fail,  on  this,  as  on  every  occasion,  to  excite 
the  concurrent  opposition  of  wordly-minded  laymen, 
and  an  arrogant  priesthood — classes  which  are  equally 
inimical,  though  on  different  grounds,  to  every  attempt 
to  worship  God  anywhere  but  within  the  enclosure  of 
certain  walls.  But  Hedio  was  not  to  be  driven  from 
his  purpose. 

About  the  period  when  he  conceived  this  praisewor- 
thy design  at  Bale,  there  arrived,  at  Zurich,  one  of 
those  characters,  who,  in  revolutionary  times,  are  often 
thrown  up,  like  a  foul  scum,  upon  the  agitated  surface 
of  society. 

The  senator,  Grebel,  a  man  highly  respected  at  Zu- 
rich, had  a  son,  named  Conrad,  a  young  man  of  re- 
markable talents,  a  determined  enemy  to  ignorance  and 
superstition — which  he  assailed  with  the  keenest  sa- 
tire ;  vehement  and  overbearing  in  his  manners,  sar- 
castic and  acrimonious  in  his  speech,  destitute  of  na- 
tural affection,  addicted  to  dissolute  habits,  frequent 
and  loud  in  professions  of  his  own  integrity,  and  unable 
to  discover  anything  but  evil  in  the  rest  of  mankind. 
We  mention  him  here,  because  he  was  destined  after- 
ward to  a  melancholy  celebrity.  Just  at  this  time, 
Vadianus  contracted  a  marriage  with  one  of  Conrad's 
sisters.  The  latter,  who  was  then  a  student  at  Paris, 
where  his  own  misconduct  prevented  him  from  making 
any  progress,  having  a  desire  to  be  present  at  the  nup- 
tials, suddenly  appeared,  about  the  beginning  of  June,  in 
the  midst  of  his  family.  The  prodigal  son  was  wel- 
comed by  his  poor  father  with  a  gentle  smile  ;  by  his 
tender  mother  with  many  tears.  The  tenderness  of 
his  parents  could  not  change  that  unnafciral  heart. — 
Some  time  afterward,  on  the  recovery  of  his  worthy 
but  unfortunate  mother  from  an  illness  which  had  near- 
ly proved  fatal,  Conrad  wrote  to  his  brother-in-law, 
Vadianus.  "  My  mother  is  well  again  ;  and  has  taken 
the  management  of  the  house  once  more  into  her  own 
hands.  She  sleeps,  rises,  begins  to  scold,  breakfasts, 
scolds  again,  dines,  resumes  her  scolding,  and  never 
ceases  to  torment  us  from  morning  to  night.  She 
bustles  about,  overlooking  kettle  and  oven,  gathering 
and  strewing,  toils  continually,  wearies  herself  to  death, 
and  will  soon  have  a  relapse"*  Such  was  the  man 
who  subsequently  attempted  to  lord  it  over  Zwingle, 
and  who  acquired  notoriety  as  the  leader  of  the  fanati- 
cal Anabaptists.  Divine  Providence  may  have  per- 
mitted such  characters  to  appear  at  the  epoch  of  the 
Reformation,  in  order  that  the  contrast  furnished  by 
their  excesses  might  display  more  conspicuously  the 
wise  Christian,  and  moderate  spirit  of  the  Reformers. 

Everything  indicated  that  the  struggle  between  the 
Gospel  and  the  Papacy  was  about  to  commence.  "  Let 
us  stir  up  the  waverers,"  said  Hedio,  in  a  letter  to 
Zwingle,  "there  is  an  end  to  peace  ;  and  let  us  forti- 
fy our  own  hearts  ,  we  have  implacable  enemies  to 
cnco'inter."t  Myconius  wrote  in  the  same  strain  ; 
but  Ulric.  replied  to  these  warlike  appeals  with  admi- 
rable mildness.  "I  could  wish,"  said  he,  "to  con- 
ciliate those  stubborn  men  by  kindness  and  gentleness 

*  Sic  regiert  das  Haus,  schlaft,  steht  auf,  zankt,  fruhstuckt, 
keift  .  .  .  (Simml.  Samml.  4.  Wirz,  i.  76 ) 

t  Armemus  pectora  nostra  !  pugnandum  erit  contra  teter- 
rimos  hostes.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  101.) 
Cc" 


of  demeanour,  rather  than  to  get  the  better  of  them  in 
angry  controversy.*  For  if  they  call  our  doctrine 
(though  ours  it  is  not)  a  doctrine  of  devils,  that  is  not 
to  be  wondered  at ;  I  receive  it  as  a  token,  that  we 
are  the  ambassadors  of  God.  The  devils  cannot  re- 
main silent  in  Christ's  presence." 

Desirous  as  he  was  to  follow  the  path  of  peace, 
Zwingle  was  not  idle.  Since  his  illness  his  preach- 
ing had  become  more  spiritual  and  more  fervent. 
More  than  two  thousand  of  the  inhabitants  of  Zurich 
had  received  the  word  of  God  into  their  hearts,  con- 
fessed the  evangelical  doctrine,  and  were  qualified  to 
assist  in  its  propagation. 

Zwingle's  faith  is  the  same  as  Luther's  ;  but  it 
rests  more  upon  argument  than  his.  Luther  is 
carried  forward  by  the  internal  impulse,  Zwingle  by 
the  attraction  of  the  light  revealed  to  him. — In  Lu- 
ther's writings  we  find  a  deeply  seated  personal  con- 
viction of  the  preciousness  of  the  cross  of  Christ  to  his 
own  soul ;  and  this  earnest,  unfaltering  conviction  gives 
life  and  energy  to  all  that  he  says.  The  same  thing,  un- 
doubtedly, is  found  in  the  writings  of  Zwingle,  but  not 
in  the  same  degree.  His  contemplations  have  been  fixed 
rather  on  the  Christian  system  as  a  whole  :  he  reveres  it 
for  its  surpassing  beauty,  for  the  light  which  it  sheds 
upon  the  soul  of  man,  for  the  everlasting  life  which  it 
brings  into  the  world.  In  the  one  the  affections  are  the 
moving  power,  in  the  other  the  understanding;  and 
hence  it  happens  that  persons  not  experimentally  ac- 
quainted with  the  faith  which  animated  these  two  dis- 
tinguished disciples  of  the  Lord,  have  fallen  into  a  gross 
error,  and  represented  the  one  as  a  mystic,  the  other 
as  a  rationalist.  The  one  is  more  pathetic,  it  may  be, 
in  exposition  of  his  faith,  the  other  is  more  philosophic  ; 
but  the  same  truths  are  embraced  by  both.  Second- 
ary questions,  perhaps,  they  do  not  always  regard  un- 
der the  same  aspect ;  but  that  faith  which  is  one,  that 
which  renews  and  justifies  all  who  possess  it,  that  path  of 
faith  which  no  confession,  no  formulary  of  doctrine,  can 
ever  adequately  express  ;  is  the  property  of  each  alike. 
The  opinions  of  Zwingle  have  often  been  so  errone- 
ously stated,  that  it  seems  necessary  to  give  a  sum- 
mary of  the  doctrine  which  he  then  preached  to  the 
people  who  flocked  in  crowds  to  hear  him  in  the  ca- 
thedral of  Zurich. 

Zwingle  beheld  in  the  fall  of  the  first  man  a  key 
to  the  entire  history  of  the  human  race.  "  Before  the 
fall,"  said  he,  in  one  of  his  discourses,  "man  had  been 
created  with  a  free  will,  so  that  if  he  had  been  willing 
he  might  have  fulfilled  the  law  ;  his  nature  was  pure, 
the  disease  of  sin  had  not  yet  tainted  it;  his  life  was 
in  his  own  hands.  But,  having  desired  to  be  '  as  God,' 
he  died — and  not  he  alone,  but  all  that  are  born  of 
him.  All  men,  then,  being  dead  in  Adam,  must  ever 
remain  so,  until  the  Spirit,  which  is  of  God  himself, 
raises  them  out  of  death. "f 

The  people  of  Zurich,  who  listened  eagerly  to  the 
impressive  preacher,  were  overwhelmed  with  sorrow 
when  their  eyes  were  first  opened  to  the  sinful  con- 
dition of  mankind  ;  but  the  word  of  consolation  was 
next  administered,  and  they  were  taught  the  remedy  by 
which  the  life  of  man  is  renewed.  "  Christ,  very  man, 
and  very  God,"J  said  the  eloquent  descendant  of  the 

*  Benevolentiahonestoque  obsequio  potius  ellici  quam  ani- 
mosa  appugnatcine  trahi.  (Ibid.  103 .'i 

f  Quum  ergo  omnes  homines  in  Adamo  mortni  sunt  .  .  . 
donee  per  Spiritunl  et  gratiam  Dei  ad  vitam  quce  Deus  est  cx- 
citentur.  (Zw.  Opp.  i.  203.)  These  expressions  and  others 
which  we  have  already  quoted,  or  shall  proceed  to  quote, 
are  extracted  from  a  work  published  by  Zwingle  in  15-23,  in 
which  he  seduced  into  a  compendium  the  doctrine  which  he 
had  then  been  preaching  for  several  years.  "  Hie  recen 
sereeospt,"  he  says,  "qitse  ex  verbo  Dei  predicavi,"  (Ibid. 
228.) 

|  Christus  verus  homo  et  verus  Deus  .  . .    (Ibid.  206.) 


210 


EXPIATION  OF  THE  GOD-MAN—POWER  OF  LOVE  FOR  CHRIST. 


shepherds  of  the  Tockenburg,  "  has  purchased  for  us 
an  everlasting  deliverance.  He  who  died  for  us,  iis 
the  eternal  God  :  his  passion  therefore,  is  an  eternal 
sacrifice,  and  has  a  perpetual  efficacy  ;*  it  satisfies 
the  divine  justice  for  ever  upon  behalf  of  all  who  rely 
upon  it  w  ith  a  firm  and  unshaken  faith."  "  Where  sin 
is,"  said  the  Reformer  again,  "  death  must  needs  fol- 
low. But  Christ  had  no  sin,  neither  was  there  guile 
found  in  his  mouth  ;  nevertheless  he  suffered  death. 
Wherefore  ?  but  because  he  suffered  it  in  our  stead. 
He  was  content  to  die,  that  he  might  restore  us  to  life  ;t 
and  forasmuch  as  he  had  no  sins  of  his  own,  the  Fa- 
ther, in  his  infinite  mercy,  laid  upon  him  the  iniquity 
of  us  all."  "  The  will  of  man,"  argued  the  Christian 
orator,  "  had  rebelled  against  the  Most  High  ;  it  was 
necessary,  therefore,  for •  the  re-establishment  of  the 
eternal  order  of  things,  and  the  salvation  of  man,  that 
the  human  will  should,  in  Christ,  give  place  to  the 
divine."t  It  was  a  frequent  remark  of  his  that  the 
expiatory  death  of  Jesus  Christ  had  taken  place  for  the 
benefit  of  the  faithful,  or  the  people  of  God  9 

The  souls  that  hungered  after  salvation  in  the  city 
of  Zurich  found  comfort  in  these  good  tidings ;  but 
there  were  some  errors  of  ancient  growth  which  their 
minds  still  harboured,  and  which  it  was  needful  to  extir- 
pate. Following  but  the  great  truth  that  salvation  is  the 
giftof  God,  Zwingle  pleaded  powerfully  against  the  pre- 
tended merit  of  human  works.  "Since  eternal  salva- 
tion," said  he,  "  proceeds  solely  from  the  merits  and 
the  death  of  Christ,  the  notion  of  merit  in  our  works 
is  no  better  than  vanity  and  folly,  not  to  call  it  sense- 
less impiety. H  If  we  could  have  been  saved  by  our 
works,  Christ's  death  would  have  been  unneccessary. 
All  who  have  ever  come  to  God  have  come  to  him  by 
the  death  of  Jesus."1T 

Zwingle  was  not  ignorant  of  the  objections  which 
this  doctrine  excited  amongst  a  portion  of  his  auditory. 
There  were  some  who  waited  on  him  for  the  purpose 
of  stating  those  objections.  He  answered  them  from 
the  pulpit  thus  :  "  Some  persons,  rather  speculative 
than  pious,  perhaps,  object  that  his  doctrine  makes 
men  reckless  and  dissolute.  But  what  need  we  care 
for  the  objections  and  plans  that  may  be  conjured  up 
by  the  speculations  of  men.  All  who  believe  in  Christ 
are  assured  that  whatever  comes  from  God  is  neces- 
sarily good.  If  then  the  gospel  is  of  God,  it  is  good.** 
And  what  other  power  is  there  that  could  bring  in 
righteousness,  truth,  and  love  among  the  children  of 
men  V  "0  God  most  merciful,  most  righteous,  Fa- 
ther of  all  mercies  !"  cried  he  in  a  transport  of  devo- 
tion, "  with  what  marvellous  love  hast  thou  embraced 
us,  even  us  thy  enemies. ft  How  great  and  how  full 
is  the  hope  thou  hast  imparted  to  us,  who  merited  no 
other  portion  than  despair  !  To  what  a  height  of  glory 
hast  thou  vouchsafed,  in  thy  beloved  Son,  to  exalt  our 
meanness  and  nothingness  !  Surely  it  is  thy  purpose 
by  this  unspeakable  love,  to  constrain  us  to  love  thee 
in  return." 

Pursuing  this  idea,  he  next  showed  that  love  to  the 

*  Deus  enim  aeternus  quum  sit  qui  pro  nobis  moritur,  pas 
sionem  cjus  aeternam  et  perpetuo  salutarem  esse  oportet 
(Ibid.) 

\  Mori  voluit  ut  nos  vitas  restitueret.   .  (Ibid.  204.) 

\  Necesse  fuit  ut  voluntas  humana  in  Christo  s( 
submitteret.      (Ibid.) 

^  Hostia  est  et  victima  satisfaciens  in  acternum  pro  peccatis 
omnium  fidelium.  (Zw.  Opp.  i.  253.)  Expurgata  peccata 
multitudinis,  hoc  est,  fiddlia  populi.  (Ibid.  264.) 

|j  Sequitur  meritum  nostrorum  operum  nihil  esse  quam  van 
itatem  et  stultitiam,  ne  dicam  impietatem  et  ignorantem  im 
pudentiam.  (Ibid.  290.) 

IT  Quotquat  ad  Deum  veneraunt  unquam  per  mortem  Christ 
ad  Deum  venisse.  (Ibid.) 

»*  Certus  est  quod  quidquid  ex  Deo  est  bonum  sit.    Si  ergo 
Evangelium  ex  Dec  bonum  est.      (Ibid.  208.) 
\\  Quanta  caritatenos  fures  et  perduelles. 


ledeemer  was  a  law  more  powerful  than  the  comand- 
nents.  "  The  Christian,"  said  he,  "  being  delivered 
rom  the  law,  depends  entirely  on  Christ.  Christ 
s  his  reason,  his  counsel,  his  righteousness,  his  sanc- 
ification,  his  whole  salvation.  Christ  lives  and  moves 
n  him.  Christ  alone  leads  him  on  his  way,  and  he 
eeds  no  other  guide.  "*  Then  making  use  of  a  com- 
>arison  well  adapted  to  the  comprehension  of  his  hear- 
rs,  he  added  :  "  When  a  government  forbids  its  citi- 
ens,  under  pain  of  death,  to  receive  any  pension  or 
argess  from  the  hands  of  foreigners,  how  gentle  and 
asy  is  that  law  to  those  who,  for  the  sake  of  their 
atherland  and  liberty,  would,  of  their  own  accord, 
ibstain  from  so  unworthy  an  act !  But  on  the  con- 
rary,  how  harsh  and  oppressive  does  it  appear  to  those 
vho  care  for  nothing  but  their  selfish  gains  !  Even 
iO  it  is,  that  the  righteous  man  lives  free  and  joyful  in 
lis  love  of  righteousness,  while  the  unrighteous  man 
walks  painfully  under  the  burthen  of  the  law  that  con- 
demns him."t 

In  the  cathedral  of  Zurich,  that  day,  there  were 
many  old  soldiers  who  could  appreciate  the  truth  of 
hese  words — and  can  we  deny  that  love  is  the  most 
>owerful  of  lawgivers'?  Are  not  all  its  requisitions 
mmediately  fulfilled!  Does  not  the  beloved  object 
ive  in  our  hearts,  and  there  enforce  obedience  to  all 
hat  he  had  enjoined  1  Accordingly  Zwingle  assum- 
ng  a  still  bolder  tone  as  he  proceeded,  testified  to  the 
)eople  of  Zurich  that  love  to  the  Redeemer  was  the 
only  motive  that  could  impel  man  to  the  performance 
if  actions  acceptable  to  God.  "  Works  done  out  of 
Christ  are  worthless,"  said  the  Christian  teacher, 
'  since  every  good  work  is  done  by  him — in  him — 
and  through  him,  what  is  there  that  we  can  lay  claim 
;o  for  ourselves  1  Wheresoever  there  is  faith  in  God, 
'here  God  himself  abides — and  wheresoever  God  is, 
'here  is  awakened  a  zeal  which  urges  and  constrains 
nen  to  good  works.J  See  to  it,  only,  that  Christ  be 
n  thee,  and  thou  in  Christ — and  fear  not  but  He  will 
work  in  thee.  Of  a  truth  the  life  of  a  Christian  man 
s  but  one  continual  good  work,  begun  and  carried 
rorward  and  brought  to  completion — by  God  alone."§ 

Deeply  impressed  with  the  greatness  of  that  love  of 
God  which  is  from  everlasting,  the  herald  of  grace 
adopted  a  strain  of  impassioned  earnestness  in  the  in- 
vitations which  he  addressed  to  the  irresolute  and  fear- 
ful. "How  is  it,"  said  he,  "  that  you  fear  to  draw 


in  Christo  se  divinse 


nigh  to  that  tender  Father  who  has  chosen 


Why 


has  he  chosen  us  of  his  free  mercy  ?  Why  has  he 
called  us?  Why  has  he  drawn  us  to  himself?  to  this 
end  only,  think  you,  that  we  should  shrink  from  ap- 
proaching him  ?"|| 

Such  was  the  doctrine  put  forth  by  Zwingle.  It 
was  the  doctrine  preached  by  Jesus  Christ  himself. 
"  If  Luther  preaches  Christ,  he  does  what  I  do,1'  said 
the  preacher  of  Zurich.  "  He  has  led  to  Christ  many 
more  souls  than  I — be  it  so.  Yet  will  I  bear  no  other 
name  than  that  of  Christ,  whose  soldier  I  am,  and 
who  alone  is  my  head.  Never  has  a  single  line  been 
addressed  by  me  to  Luther,  or  by  Luther  to  me.  And 
why  1 — that  it  might  be  manifest  to  all  how  uniform 
is  the  testimony  of  the  Spirit  of  God — since  we,  who 

*  Turn  enim  totus  a  Christo  pendet.  Christus  est  ei  ratio, 
conscilium,  justitia,  innocentia,  et  tota  salus.  Christus  in  eo 
agit.  (Zw.  Opp.  ii.  233.) 

t  Bonus  vir  in  amore  justitiae  liber  et  laetus  vivit.  (Ibid. 
284.) 

J  Ubi  Deus.  illic  cura  est  et  studium  ad  opera  bona  urgens 
est  impellens.  (Zw.  Opp.  i.  213^ 

{)  Vita  ergo  pii  hominis  nihil  aliud  est  nisi  perpetua  quae 
dam  et  indefessa  boni  operatic  quam  Deus  iacipit,  ducit  et 
absolvit.  (Ibid.  295.) 

||  Quum  ergo  Deus  pater  nos  elegit  ex  gratia  sua,  traxitque 
et  vocavit,  cur  ad  eum  accedere  non  auderemus  ?  (Ibid. 
237.) 


EFFECTS  OF  HIS  PREACHING— DEJECTION  AND  COURAGE. 


211 


have  had  no  communication  with  each  other,  agree  so 
closely  in  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ."* 

The  success  which  attended  on  Zwingle's  preaching 
corresponded  to  its  fidelity.!  The  spacious  cathedral 
was  too  small  to  contain  the  multitude  of  his  hearers. 
All  believers  united  in  praising  God  for  the  new  life 
which  had  begun  to  quicken  the  inanimate  body  of  the 
Church.  Many  strangers  from  every  canton,  who 
came  to  Zurich,  either  to  attend  the  Diet,  or  for  other 
purposes,  embraced  the  new  doctrines,  and  carried  the 
precious  seeds  of  truth  into  all  the  valleys  of  Switzer- 
land. From  populous  cities  and  from  hamlets  hidden 
in  the  glen,  one  cry  of  rejoicing  gratitude  arose  to 
heaven.  "  Switzerland,"  said  Nicholas  Hageus,  in  a 
letter  written  from  Lucerne,  "  has  heretofore  given 
birth  to  many  a  Caesar,  and  Scipio,  and  Brutus  ;  but 
scarcely  could  she  number  among  her  offspring  one  or 
two  to  whom  Christ  was  truly  known,  and  who  had 
learned  to  nourish  souls  with  the  divine  word  instead 
of  doubtful  disputations.  Now  that  Divine  Providence 
has  given  to  Switzerland  Zwingle  for  a  preacher,  and 
Oswald  Myconius  for  a  professor,  religion  and  sacred 
literature  are  reviving  in  the  midst  of  us.  O  happy 
Helvetia,  wouldst  thou  only  rest  from  war,  satisfied  with 
the  glory  thou  hast  already  won  in  arms,  and  cultivate 
in  future  that  truer  glory  which  follow  in  the  train  of 
righteousness  and  peace  !"t — "  It  was  reported,"  said 
Myconius,  in  a  letter  to  Zwingle,  "  that  thy  voice 
could  not  be  heard  at  the  distance  of  three  paces. 
But  we  find  now  how  false  a  tale  it  was  ;  for  thou  art 
heard  all  over  Switzerland. "§ — '*  It  is  a  noble  courage 
with  which  thou  hast  armed  thyself,"  said  Hedio, 
writing  from  Bale  ;  "  I  will  follow  thee  as  far  as  I 
have  strength. "|| — "  I  have  listened  to  thy  teaching," 
wrote  Sebastian  Hofrneister  of  Schaffhausen  in  a  letter 
dated  from  Constance :  "  God  grant  that  Zurich,  the 
head  of  our  confederacy,  may  be  healed  of  its  disease» 
that  so  the  whole  body  may  be  restored  to  soundness. "IF 

But  Zwingle  met  with  adversaries  as  well  as  admir- 
ers. "  Wherefore,"  said  some,  "  does  he  concern 
himself  with  the  political  affairs  of  Switzerland  ?" — 
"  Why,"  said  others,  "does  he  repeat  the  same  thing 
so  often  in  his  religious  instructions  1"  In  the  midst 
of  these  conflicting  judgments,  the  soul  of  Zwingle  was 
often  overcome  with  dejection.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
a  general  confusion  was  at  hand,  and  that  the  fabric 
of  society  was  on  the  point  of  being  overturned.** 
He  began  to  apprehend  that  it  was  impossible  for 
good  to  make  its  appearance  in  one  quarter,  but 
evil  must  spring  up  to  counteract  it  in  another.ft 
If  at  one  moment  hope  shone  in  his  mind,  it  was  in- 
stantly succeeded  by  fear.  But  he  soon  recovered 
from  his  depression.  "  The  life  of  man  here  below 
is  a  warfare,"  said  he  ;  "  he  who  would  inherit  glory 
must  face  the  world  as  an  enemy,  and,  like  David, 
force  the  haughty  Goliath,  exulting  in  his  strength,  to 
bite  the  dust." — "  The  Church,"  said  he,  again,  using 
the  very  expression  which  Luther  had  employed,  "  has 
been  purchased  by  blood,  and  by  blood  must  it  be 
restored. tt  The  more  numerous  are  the  stains  that 

*  Quam  concors  sit  spiritus  Dei.  dum  nps  tarn  procul  dissiti 
nihil  colludentes,  tarn  concorditer  Christi  doctrinamdocemus 
(Zw.  Opp.  276.) 

f  Quam  fortis  sis  In  Christi  pnedicando.  (Z\v.  Epp.  p.  160.) 

|  O  Helvetian!  longe  feliciorem,  si  tandem  liceat  te  a  bellis 
conquiescere  ?  (Ibid.  129.) 

&  At  video  mendacium  esse,  cum  audiaris  per  totam  Helve- 
tiam.  (Ibid.  135.) 

||  Sequar  ce  quoad  potero  .  .  (Ibid.  134.) 

V  Uc  capite  felicis  patriae  nostrae  a  morbo  erepto,  sanitas 
tandem  in  reliqua  membra  reciperctur.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  147.) 

**  Ominia  sursum  deorsumque  moventur.     (Ibid.  142.) 

ff  Ut  nihil  proferre  caput  queat,  cujus  non  contrarium  e 
regione  emergat.  (Ibid.) 

}J  Ecclesiam  puto,  ut  sanguine  parta  est  ita  sanguine  in- 
staurari.  (Ibid..l43.) 


defile  it,  the  more  numerous  also  must  be  the  Hercu- 
lean arms  employed  to  cleanse  away  that  Augean  filth.* 
I  fear  little  for  Luther,"  added  he,  "  though  he  be 
assailed  by  the  thunderbolts  of  the  Romish  Jupi- 
ter."! 

Zwingle  had  need  of  rest ;  he  repaired  to  the  waters 
of  Baden.  The  curate  of  the  place,  who  had  been 
one  of  the  Pope's  body-guard,  a  man  of  good  charac- 
ter, but  destitute  of  learning,  had  earned  his  benefice 
by  carrying  the  halberd.  Tenacious  of  his  military 
habits,  he  passed  the  day  and  a  portion  of  the  night  in 
jovial  company,  while  Staheli,  his  vicar,  was  unweari- 
ed in  performing  all  the  duties  of  his  calling.!  Zwin- 
gle sent  for  this  young  minister.  "  I  have  need,"  said 
he,  "  of  helpers  in  Switzerland  ;" — and  from  that  mo- 
ment Staheli  became  his  fellow-labourer.  Zwingle, 
Staheli,  and  Luti,  who  was  afterward  a  pastor  at 
Winterthur,  lived  under  the  same  roof. 

Zwingle's  self-devotion  was  not  to  miss  its  reward. 
The  word  of  Christ,  which  he  preached  so  diligently, 
was  ordained  to  bring  forth  fruit.  Many  of  the  magis- 
trates had  been  converted  ;  they  had  found  comfort 
and  strength  in  God's  holy  word.  Grieved  to  observe 
with  what  effrontery  the  priests,  and  especially  the 
monks,  in  their  addresses  from  the  pulpit,  uttered  any- 
thing that  came  uppermost  in  their  minds,  the  Council 
issued  an  ordinance  by  which  they  were  enjoined  to 
"deliver  nothing  in  their  discourses  but  what  they 
should  have  drawn  from  the  sacred  fountains  of  the 
Old  and  New  Testaments."^  It  was  in  1520  that  the 
civil  power  thus  interfered  for  the  first  time  in  the  work 
of  the  Reformation,  fulfilling  the  duty  of  the  Christian 
magistrate,  as  some  affirm  ;  because  the  first  duty  of  a 
magistrate  is  to  uphold  religion,  and  to  protect  the 
paramount  and  vital  interests  of  the  community  ;  de- 
priving the  Church  of  its  liberty,  say  others— bringing 
it  under  subjection  to  the  secular  power,  and  opening 
the  way  for  that  long  train  of  calamities  which  has  since 
been  engendered  by  the  union  of  Church  and  State. 
We  will  not  here  attempt  to  decide  that  great  contro- 
versy by  which  more  than  one  nation  is  agitated  at  the 
present  day.  Let  it  suffice  us  to  have  marked  its  origin 
at  the  epoch  of  the  Reformation.  But  there  is  that  in 
the  fact  itself  which  we  must  also  mark  ;  the  act  of 
those  magistrates  was  itself  an  effect  produced  by  the 
preaching  of  the  word  of  God.  The  Reformation  in 
Switzerland  was  now  emerging  from  the  sphere  of  in- 
dividual conversions,  and  becoming  a  national  work.  It 
had  first  sprung  up  in  the  hearts  of  a  few  priests  and 
scholars ;  it  was  now  spreading  abroad,  and  lifting  it- 
self on  high,  and  assuming  a  station  of  publicity.  Like 
the  waters  of  the  sea  it  rose  by  degrees,  until  it  had 
overspread  a  wide  expanse. 

The  monks  were  confounded — they  were  enjoined 
to  preach  only  the  word  of  God,  and  that  word  the 
majority  of  them  had  never  read  !  Opposition  pro- 
vokes opposition.  This  ordinance  became  the  signal 
for  more  violent  attacks  against  the  Reformation. 
Plots  were  now  formed  against  the  curate  of  Zurich, 
and  his  life  was  in  danger.  One  evening,  when  Zwin- 
gle and  his  assistants  were  quietly  conversing  in  their 
house,  they  were  disturbed  by  the  hasty  entrance  of 
some  burghers,  who  inquired  : — "  Have  you  strong 
bolts  on  your  doors  ?"  and  added,  "  Be  on  your  guard 
to-night."  "  We  often  had  alarms  of  this  kind,"  adds 

*  Eo  plures  armabis  Hercules  qui  fimum  tot  hactenus  bourn 
efferant.  (Ibid.  144.) 

t  Etiamsi  fulmine  Jovis  istius  fulminetur.    (Ibid.) 

t  Misc.  Mig.  iii.  679-696.     Wirz.  79,  73. 

$  Vetuit  eos  Senatus  quicquam  praedicare  quod  non  ex  sac- 
rarum  literarum  utriusque  Testament!  fontibus  hausissent. 
(Zw.  Opp.  iii.  28.) 


212 


VIOLENT  ATTACKS— HALLER'S  DEJECTION. 


Staheli,  "  but  we  were  well  armed,*  and  there  was  a 
watch  set  in  the  street  for  our  protection." 

Elsewhere,  however,  measures  of  more  atrocious 
violence  were  resorted  to  :  an  old  inhabitant  of  Schaff- 
hausen,  named  Gaster,  a  man  distinguished  for  his 
piety,  and  for  an  ardour  few,  at  his  age,  possess,  having 
himself  derived  much  comfort  from  the  light  which  he 
had  found  in  the  Gospel,  endeavoured  to  communicate 
it  to  his  wife  and  children.  In  his  zeal,  which  perhaps 
was  not  duly  tempered  with  discretion,  he  openly  at- 
tacked the  relics,  the  priestcraft,  and  the  superstition 
with  which  that  cantun  abounded.  He  soon  became 
an  object  of  hatred  and  terror  even  to  his  own  family. 
Perceiving  at  length  that  evil  designs  were  entertained 
against  him,  the  old  man  fled,  broken-hearted,  from  his 
home,  and  betook  himself  to  the  shelter  of  the  neigh- 
bouring forest.  There  he  continued  for  some  days, 
sustaining  life  upon  such  scanty  food  as  the  wilds  af- 
forded him,  when  suddenly,  on  the  last  night  of  the 
year,  1520,  torches  flashed  through  the  whole  extent 
of  the  forest,  while  yells  of  infuriated  men,  mingled 
with  the  cry  of  savage  hounds,  echoed  fearfully  through 
its  deepest  recesses.  The  Council  had  ordered  the 
woods  to  be  scoured  to  discover  his  retreat.  The 
hounds  caught  scent  of  their  prey,  and  seized  him. 
The  unfortunate  old  man  was  dragged  before  the  ma- 
gistrate, and  summoned  to  abjure  his  faith  ;  stedfastly 
refusing  to  do  so,  he  was  beheaded,  t 

But  a  little  while  after  the  New  Year's  day  that 
witnessed  this  bloody  execution,  Zwingle  was  visited  at 
Zurich,  by  a  young  man  about  twenty-eight  years  of  age, 
tall  of  stature,  and  of  an  aspect  which  denoted  candour, 
simplicity,  and  diffidence.^  He  introduced  himself  by 
the  name  of  Berthold  Haller.  Zwingle  immediately 
recognised  the  celebrated  preacher  of  Berne,  and  em- 
braced him  with  all  that  affability  which  rendered  his 
address  so  fascinating.  Haller,  whose  native  place 
was  Aldingen,  in  Wurtemberg.§  had  studied  first  at 
Rotwell,  under  Rubellus,  and  subsequently  at  Pforz- 
heim, where  he  had  Simler  for  his  master,  and  Melanc- 
thon  for  a  fellow-pupil.  The  Bernese  about  that  time 
manifested  a  desire  to  make  their  republic  the  seat  of 
letters,  as  it  was  already  powerful  in  arms.  Rubellus 
and  Haller,  the  latter  of  whom  was  then  twenty-one 
years  of  age,  repaired  to  Berne  accordingly.  Haller 
soon  became  a  canon  there,  and  was  afterward  appoint- 
ed preacher  of  the  cathedral.  The  Gospel  proclaimed 
by  Zwingle  had  found  its  way  to  Berne.  Haller  be- 
lieved :  arid  from  that  time  he  felt  a  wish  to  have  per- 
sonal intercourse  with  the  gifted  man,  whom  he  already 
revered  as  a  father.  His  journey  to  Zurich,  undertaken 
with  this  view,  had  been  announced  by  Myconius. 
Such  were  the  circumstances  of  the  meeting  between 
Haller  and  Zwingle.  Haller  whose  characteristic  was 
meekness  of  disposition,  confided  to  Zwingle  the  trials 
with  which  he  was  beset ;  and  Zwingle  who  was  em- 
inently endowed  with  fortitude,  communicated  to  Hal- 
ler a  portion  of  his  own  courage.  "  My  Spirit,"  said 
Berthold,  "  is  overwhelmed.  I  cannot  endure  such 
harsh  treatment.  I  am  resolved  to  give  up  my  pulpit, 
seek  a  retreat  with  Wittembach.  at  Bale,  and  employ 
myself  for  the  future  in  the  private  study  of  the  Scrip- 
tures." "Alas!"  replied  Zwingle,  "  a  feeling  of  dis- 
couragement often  takes  possession  of  me  likewise, 
when  I  am  unjustly  assailed.  But  Christ  awakens 
my  conscience  by  the  powerful  stimulus  of  his  threat- 
enings  and  promises.  He  rouses  my  fears  by  declar- 
ing : — Whosoever  shall  be  ashamed  of  me  before  men, 

»  Wir  waren  aber  gut  gertistet.  (Misc.  Tig.  ii.  681.  Wirz 
i.  334.) 

f  Wirz,  i.  510.     (Sebast.  Wagner,  von  Kirchhofer,  p.  18  ) 

j  Animi  tui  condorem  simplicem  et  simplioitatem  candidis- 
•imam,  hua  tua  pusilla  quidem  epistola  .  .  .  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  186.) 

$  Ita  ipse  in  literis  manuscripts.     (J.  J.  Hott.  iii.  54.) 


of  him  will  I  be  ashamed  before  my  Father  ;  and  then 
he  gives  me  comfort,  by  adding  :  —  Whosoever 


confess  me  before  men,  him  wilt  I  confess  before  my 
Father.  0,  my  dear  Berthold,  be  of  good  cheer  ! 
Our  names  are  written  above,  in  characters  that  can 
never  be  effaced,  as  citizens  of  the  heavenly  city.* 
For  my  part  I  am  ready  to  die  for  Christ,  f  Let  those 
wild  bears'  cubs  of  yours,"  he  added,  "  only  once  give 
ear  to  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  you  will  see 
how  gentle  they  will  become.}  But  you  must  address 
yourself  cautiously  to  the  work,  lest  they  turn  and  rend 
you."  Haller's  courage  rose  again.  "My  soul,"  said 
he  to  Zwingle,  "  has  cast  off  her  slumber.  I  must 
needs  preach  the  Gospel.  Christ  must  again  be  re- 
ceived within  those  walla  from  which  he  has  so  long 
been  banished.  "§  Thus  was  Berthold's  lamp  kindled 
afresh  by  Ulric's  —  and  the  timid  Haller  could  now  un- 
shrinkingly encounter  the  savage  brood  of  bears  "  that 
gnashed  their  teeth,"  says  Zwingle,  "and  longed  to 
devour  him." 

But  it  was  in  another  quarter  that  the  persecution 
was  to  begin  in  Switzerland.  The  warlike  canton  of 
Lucerne  was  about  to  take  the  field,  like  a  champion 
sheathed  in  mail,  and  ready  for  the  charge.  The  mil- 
itary spirit  had  full  sway  in  this  canton,  which  was 
much  addicted  to  foreign  alliances  ;  and  the  great  men 
of  the  city  would  knit  their  brows  if  they  heard  so  much 
as  a  pacific  whisper  breathed  to  damp  the  martial  ar- 
dour of  their  country.  It  happened,  however,  that 
some  of  Luther's  writings  found  their  way  into  the 
city,  and  there  were  certain  citizens  who  set  themselves 
to  peruse  them.  With  what  horror  were  they  seized 
as  they  read  on  !  It  seemed  to  them  that  none  but 
an  infernal  hand  could  have  traced  those  lines  ;  their 
imagination  was  excited,  their  senses  were  bewildered, 
and  they  fancied  that  the  room  was  filled  with  devils 
gathering  thickly  round  them,  and  glaring  on  them  with 
a  sardonic  leer.  II  They  shut  the  book,  and  cast  it 
from  them  in  affright.  Oswald,  who  had  heard  these 
singular  visions  related,  never  spoke  of  Luther  except 
to  his  most  intimate  friends;  contenting  himself  with 
simply  setting  forth  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  The  cry 
nevertheless  was  raised  through  the  whole  city  :  —  "  To 
the  stake  with  Luther  and  the  schoolmaster  (Mycon- 
ius !"U)  —  "  I  am  assailed  by  my  enemies,"  said  Oswald 
to  a  friend  of  his,  "  as  a  ship  is  beaten  by  the  tempest."** 
One  day,  early  in  the  year  1520,  he  was  unexpectedly 
summoned  to  appear  before  the  Council.  "  You  are 
strictly  enjoined,"  said  the  magistrates,  "  never  to  read 
Luther's  writings  to  your  pupils  —  never  to  mention  his 
name  in  their  hearing  —  never  even  to  think  of  him 
yourself."tt  The  lords  of  Lucerne  were  disposed,  we 
perceive,  to  confine  their  jurisdiction  within  no  narrow 
bounds.  Shortly  after  this,  a  preacher  delivered  a 
fierce  philippic  against  heresy  from  the  pulpit.  A 
powerful  effect  was  produced  upon  the  auditory  ;  all 
eyes  were  turned  upon  Oswald,  for  against  whom  else 
could  the  preacher  have  meant  to  direct  his  discourse  ? 
Oswald  remained  quiet  in  his  seat,  as  if  the  matter  had 
not  concerned  him.  But  when  he  and  his  friend,  the 

*  Scripta  tamen  habeatur  in  fastis  supernorum  civium. 
(Zw.  Epp.  p.  186.) 

t  Ut  mori  pro  Christo  non  usque  adeo  detrectem  apud  me. 
(Ibid.  197.) 

J  Ut  ursi  tui  ferociusculi.  audita  Christi  doctrina,  mansues- 
cere  incipiant.  (Ibid.)  The  reader  is  aware,  that  a  bear  is 
the  armorial  device  of  the  Canton  of  Berne. 

(j  Donee  Christum,  cucullatis  nugis  longe  a  nobis  exulem 
pro  virili  restituerim.  (Ibid.  187.) 

||  Dum  Lutherum  semel  legerint,  ut  putarent  stubellam 
suam  plenam  esse  dsemonibus  .  .  .  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  137  ) 

1T  Clamatur  hie  per  totam  civitatem  :  Lutherum  comburen- 
dum  et  ludi  magistrum.  (Ibid.  163.) 

*  Non  aliter  me  impellunt  quam  procellae  marina;  navem 
aliquam.  (Ibid.  159.) 

tf  Imo  ne  in  mentem  eum  admitterem.    (Ibid.) 


OSWALD  PERSECUTED— H.  BULLTNGER— GEROLD  VON  KNONAU. 


213 


canon,  Xyloctect,  among  the  rest  of  the  congregation, 
were  retiring  from  the  church,  one  of  the  councillors 
came  up  to  them,  with  an  air  that  betrayed  his  internal 
discomposure,  and  said,  in  an  angry  tone : — "  How  now, 
ye  disciples  of  Luther,  why  do  ye  not  defend  your 
Mdsier  '!"  They  made  no  reply.  "  I  live,"  said  My- 
comus,  "  in  the  midst  of  savage  wolves  ;  but  I  have 
this  consolation,  that  the  greater  part  of  them  have  lost 
their  fangs.  They  would  bite  if  they  could,  and  since 
thev  cannot  bite,  they  howl." 

The  Senate  was  now  convened,  for  the  tumult  among 
the  people  was  increasing.  "  He  is  a  Lutheran  !"  said 
one  of  the  councillors.  "  He  broaches  new  doctrines  !" 
said  another.  "  He  is  a  seducer  of  youth  !"said  a  third. 
"  Let  him  appear  !  let  him  appear  !"  The  poor  school- 
ma.-ter  appeared  accordingly,  and  had  to  listen  to  fresh 
interdicts  and  threats.  His  guileless  spirit  was  wounded 
and  depressed.  His  gentle  wife  could  only  comfort 
him  by  the  tears  of  sympathy  which  she  shed.  "  Every 
one  is  against  me,"  said  he,  in  the  anguish  of  his  heart. 
"  Whither  shall  I  turn  me  in  the  storm,  or  how  escape 
its  fury  ?  Were  it  not  for  the  help  that  Christ  gives 
me,  I  should  long  since  have  sunk  under  this  persecu- 
tion."*"— "  What  matters  it,"  said  Doctor  Sebastine 
Hofrneister,  w-riting  to  him  from  Constance,  "  whether 
Lucerne  will  give  you  a  home  or  not  ?  The  earth  is 
the  Lord's.  The  man  whose  heart  is  steadfast  finds  a 
home  in  every  land.  Were  we  even  the  vilest  of  men, 
our  cause  is  righteous,  for  we  teach  the  word  of 
Christ." 

While  the  truth  was  struggling  against  so  much  op- 
position at  Lucerne,  it  was  gaining  ground  at  Zurich. 
Zwingle  was  unwearied  in  his  labours.  Desirous  of 
studying  the  whole  of  the  Scriptures  in  the  original 
languages,  he  had  applied  himself  diligently  to  the 
acquisition  of  the  Hebrew  under  the  direction  of  John 
Boscherstein,  a  disciple  of  Reuchlin.  But  in  studying 
the  Scriptures,  his  object  was  to  make  their  contents 
known.  The  peasants  who  brought  their  produce  on 
Fridays  to  the  market  of  Zurich  showed  great  eager- 
ness to  become  acquainted  with  the  word  of  God.  To 
meet  their  desire,  Zwingle,  in  December,  1520,  had 
commenced  the  practice  of  expounding  every  Friday,  a 
portion  of  the  Psalms,  previously  making  that  portion 
the  subject  of  his  private  meditations.  The  Reformers 
always  connected  deep  study  with  laborious  ministry  ; 
— the  ministry  was  the  end,  the  study  was  but  the 
means.  They  were  equally  diligent  in  the  closet  and 
the  public  assembly.  This  union  of  learning  with 
Christian  love  is  one  of  the  characteristics  of  the  period. 
In  his  Sunday  exercises,  Zwingle,  after  having  com- 
mented on  St.  Matthew's  narrative  of  the  life  of  our 
Saviour,  proceeded  to  show  in  a  course  of  lectures  on 
the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  how  the  doctrine  of  Christ 
had  been  published  to  the  world.  He  next  explained 
the  rules  of  the  Christian  life,  as  they  are  set  forth  in 
the  Epistle  to  Timothy  ; — he  drew  arguments  for  the 
refutation  of  errors  in  the  doctrine  from  the  Epistle  to 
the  Galatians — and  to  this  he  joined  the  two  Epistles 
of  St.  Peter,  in  onler  to  prove  to  the  despisers  of  St. 
Paul,  that  one  and  the  same  spirit  animated  both  the 
apostles  ;  he  ended  with  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews, 
th.ir.  he  might  exhibit  in  their  full  extent  the  benefits 
which  flow  from  the  gift  of  Jesus  Christ,  as  great  high- 
priest  of  believers. 

But  Zwingle  devoted  not  his  attention  solely  to  men 
of  mature  ago,  he  laboured  also  to  kindle  a  holy  fire  in 
the  bosom  of  the  young.  One  day  in  the  same  year 
1521,  as  he  sat  in  his  closet,  occupied  in  studying  the 
Frtihers  of  the  Church,  the  most  striking  passages  of 
whose  works  he  was  collecting  and  carefully  classing 

*  Si  Christus  non  esset,  jam  olim  defccissom.  (Z\v.  Epp.  p 
1GO.) 


.hem  in  a  large  volume — the  door  was  opened  by  a 
young  man,  whose  countenance  and  mine  strongly 
)repossessed  him  in  his  favour.*  This  was  Henry 
Bulhnger,  who  had  come  to  visit  him  on  his  way  home 
rotn  Germany,  impelled  by  an  earnest  desire  to  form 
in  acquaintance  with  a  teacher  of  his  native  land,  whose 
tame  was  already  celebrated  in  Christendom.  The 
comely  youth  fixed  his  eyes  by  turns  on  the  Reformer 
and  his  books  ;  it  seemed  as  though  he  felt  an  instant 
call  to  follow  his  example.  Zwingle  received  him  with 
.he  cordiality  that  won  the  hearts  of  all  who  accosted 
lim.  This  first  visit  had  a  powerful  influence  on  the 
whole  life  of  the  student  after  he  returned  to  his  father's 
roof.  Another  young  man  had  also  attracted  Zwingle's 
regard  ;  this  was  Gerold  Meyer  von  Knonau.  His 
nother,  Anna  Reinhardt,  who  afterwards  filled  an  im- 
portant part  in  Zwingle's  history,  had  been  greatly 
admired  for  her  beauty,  and  was  still  distinguished  for 
ler  virtues.  A  youth  of  noble  family,  John  Meyer  von 
Knonau,  who  had  been  brought  up  at  the  court  of  the 
Bishop  of  Constance,  his  kinsman,  had  conceived  an 
ardent  affection  for  Anna ;  but  she  was  of  plebeian 
birth.  The  elder  Meyer  von  Knonau  refused  his  con- 
sent to  their  union,  and  when  he  found  that  it  had  taken 
place,  he  disinherited  his  son.  In  1513,  Anna  was  left 
a  widow  with  one  son  and  two  daughters,  and  the 
education  of  her  poor  orphans  now  became  the  sole  ob- 
ject of  her  life.  The  grandfather  was  inexorable. 
)ne  day,  however,  the  widow's  maid  servant  having 
taken  out  young  Gerold,  a  graceful  lively  child,  just 
three  years  old,  and  having  stopped  with  him  in  the 
tish-market,  old  Meyer,  who  was  sitting  at  the  window,! 
happened  to  observe  him,  followed  his  movements  with 
lis  eyes,  and  asked  whose  child  it  was,  so  fresh  and 
beautiful  and  joyous.  "  It  is  your  own  son's  child  !" 
was  the  reply.  The  old  man's  heart  was  moved,  its 
icy  crust  was  melted  in  a  moment — the  past  was  for- 
gotten, and  he  hastened  to  clasp  in  his  arms  the  be- 
reaved wife  and  children  of  his  son.  Zwingle  felt  a 
father's  love  for  the  young,  the  noble,  and  courageous 
Gerold,  whose  destiny  it  was  to  perish  in  his  prime,  at 
the  Reformer's  side,  with  his  hand  upon  his  sword,  and 
surrounded,  alas  !  by  the  dead  bodies  of  his  enemies. 
Thinking  that  Gerold  could  not  pursue  his  studies  with 
advantage  at  Zurich,  Zwingle,  in  1521,  sent  him  to 
Bale. 

The  young  Von  Knonau  did  not  find  Zwingle's 
friend  Hedio  at  the  University.  Capito,  being  obliged 
to  attend  the  Archbishop,  Albert,  to  the  coronation  of 
Charles  V.,  had  sent  for  Hedio  to  take  his  place  at 
Mentz.  Bale  had  thus  within  a  brief  space  been  de- 
prived of  its  two  most  faithful  preachers  ;  the  church 
in  that  city  seemed  to  be  left  desolate  ;  but  other  men 
now  carne  forward.  The  church  of  William  Roubli, 
the  cuiate  of  Saint  Albans,  was  thronged  by  an  auditory 
of  four  thousand  persons.  He  inveighed  against  the 
mass,  purgatory,  and  the  invocation  of  saints  ;  but  he 
was  a  man  of  a  contentious  spirit,  greedy  of  popular 
admiration — the  antagonist  of  error  rather  than  the 
champion  of  truth.  On  Corpus  Christi  day,  he  joined 
the  great  procession  ;  but  instead  of  the  relics  which 
it  was  the  practice  to  exhibit,  a  magnificently  decorated 
copy  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  was  carried  before  him, 
bearing  this  inscription,  in  large  letters,  "  THE  BIBLE  ; 

*  Ich  hab  by  Im  eim  gross  Buch  gesehen,  Locorum  com- 
munium,  als  ich  by  Ihm  wass,  a°.  1521,  dorinnen  er  Sentcntias 
und  dogmata  Patrum,  flyssig  jedes  an  seinetn  ort  verzeichnet. 
(Bullinger.  MS.) 

t  Liiget  dess  Kindts  grossvater  zum  fanster  uss,  und  ersach 
das  kind  in  der  fischer  branten  (Kufe,)  so  frach  (frisch)  und 
frblich  sitzen  ....  (Archives  des  Meyer  von  Knonau.  quoted 
in  a  biographical  notice  ot  Jlnna  Reinhardt,  Erlangen,  1835, 
by  M.  Gerold  Meyer  von  Knonau.)  I  am  indebted  to  the 
kindness  of  this  friend  for  the  elucidation  of  several  obscure 
passages  in  Zwingle's  history. 


214 


ROUBLI  AT  BALE— WAR  BETWEEN  FRANCIS  AND  CHARLES. 


this  is  the  true  relic  ;  all  the  rest  are  but  dead  men's 
bones." — Courage  adorns  the  servant  of  God,  but  os- 
tentation ill  befits  him.  The  work  of  an  Evangelist  is 
to  preach  the  Bible — not  to  make  a  pompous  parade  of 
it.  The  irritated  priests  laid  a  charge  against  Roubli 
before  the  Council.  A  crowd  immediately  assembled 
in  the  square  of  the  Cordeliers.  "  Protect  our  preach- 
er," was  the  cry  of  the  burghers,  addressing  the  Coun- 
cil. Fifty  ladies  of  distinction  interceded  in  his  behalf ; 
but  Roubli  was  compelled  to  quit  Bale.  At  a  later 
period  he  was  implicated,  like  Grebel,  in  the  disorders 
of  the  Anabaptists.  The  Reformation,  in  the  course 
of  its  development,  never  failed  to  cast  out  the  chaff 
that  was  mingled  with  the  good  grain. 

But  now,  in  the  lowliest  of  chapels,  a  humble  voice 
was  heard  that  distinctly  proclaimed  the  truths  of  the 
Gospel.  It  was  the  voice  of  the  youthful  Wolfgang 
Wissemburger,  the  son  of  a  counsellor  of  State,  and 
chaplain  to  the  hospital.  Those  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Bale,  whose  eyes  were  opened  to  their  own  spiritual 
necessities,  were  induced  to  gather  round  the  meek- 
tempered  chaplain,  rather  than  the  arrogant  Roubli. 
Wolfgang  began  to  read  the  mass  in  German.  The 
monks  renewed  their  clamours  ;  but  this  time  they 
failed,  and  Wissemburger  was  left  free  to  preach  the 
Gospel ; — "  because,"  says  an  old  chronicler,  "  he  was 
a  burgher,  and  his  father  was  a  counsellor."*  These 
early  advantages,  gained  by  the  Reformation  at  Bale, 
gave  token  of  greater  success  to  follow.  Moreover, 
they  were  of  the  utmost  importance,  as  they  affected 
the  progress  of  the  work  throughout  the  whole  of  the 
confederated  cantons.  Zurich  no  longer  stood  alone. 
The  enlightened  city  of  Bale  had  begun  to  listen  to  the 
new  doctrine  with  delight.  The  foundations  of  the 
renovated  temple  were  widening.  The  Reforma- 
tion in  Switzerland  had  reached  another  stage  of  its 
growth. 

Zurich,  however,  was  still  the  centre  of  the  move- 
ment. But  in  the  course  of  the  year,  1521,  events  of 
political  importance  occured,  which  brought  bitter  grief 
to  the  heart  of  Zwingle,  and  in  a  measure  distracted 
the  attention  of  his  countrymen  from  the  preaching  of 
the  Gospel.  Leo  X. — who  had  proffered  his  alliance 
simultaneously  to  Charles  V.  and  to  Francis  I. — had 
at  length  determined  in  favour  of  the  Emperor.  The 
war  between  the  two  rivals  was  about  to  break  out  in 
Italy.  "  We  shall  leave  the  Pope  nothing  but  his 
ears,"t  said  the  French  general,  Lautrec.  This  sorry 
jest  increased  the  anger  of  the  Pontiff.  The  King  of 
France  claimed  the  assistance  of  the  Swiss  Cantons, 
which,  with  the  exception  of  Zurich,  were  all  in  alli- 
ance with  him  ; — it  was  afforded  at  his  call.  The 
Pope  conceived  the  hope  of  engaging  Zurich  on  his 
side  ;  and  the  Cardinal  of  Sion,  ever  ready  for  intrigue, 
and  relying  on  his  own  dexterity  and  eloquence,  im- 
mediately visited  the  city,  to  procure  a  levy  of  soldiers 
for  his  master.  But  he  had  to  encounter  a  vigorous 
opposition  from  his  old  friend,  Zwingle.  The  latter 
was  indignant  at  the  thought  of  the  Swiss  selling  their 
blood  to  foreigners  ;  his  imagination  pictured  to  him 
the  Zurichers  on  the  plains  of  Italy,  under  the  standard 
of  the  Pope  and  the  Emperor,  rushing  with  levelled 
pikes  against  the  other  confederates,  who  were  gathered 
under  the  banners  of  France  ;  and  in  the  contemplation 
of  that  fratricidal  scene,  his  patriotic  and  Christian  soul 
was  filled  with  horror.  He  lifted  up  his  admonitory 
voice  in  the  pulpit.  "  Will  you  rend  asunder  and  de- 

*  Dieweil  er  ein  Burger  war  und  sein  Vater  des  Raths. 
(Fridolin  Ryff's  Chronik.) 

t  Disse  che  M.  di  Lutrech  et  M.  de  1'Escu  havia  ditto  che'l 
voleva  che  le  recchia  del  Papafuese  la  major  parte  restassedi 
la  so  persona.  (Gradenigo,  the  Venetian  Ambassador  at 
Rome,  MS.  1623.) 


stroy  the  confederation  ?"*  cried  he.  "  We  give  chase 
to  the  wolves  who  ravage  our  flocks  ;  but  we  set  no 
guard  against  such  as  prowl  around  us  to  devour  our 
brethren  !  Oh  !  there  is  good  reason  why  their  robes 
and  hats  are  red,  if  you  only  twitch  those  garments  of 
theirs,  ducats  and  crowns  will  fall  out :  but  if  you  grasp 
them  tightly,  you  will  find  them  dripping  with  the  blood 
of  your  brothers,  your  fathers,  your  sons,  your  dearest 
friends  !"t  In  vain  did  Zwingle  record  his  energetic 
protest.  The  Cardinal  with  his  red  hat  prevailed,  and 
two  thousand  seven  hundred  Zurichers  marched  out 
under  the  command  of  George  Berguer.  Zwingle  was 
deeply  afflicted.  His  efforts,  however,  were  not  wholly 
unproductive  of  good.  A  long  period  was  to  elapse 
before  the  banners  of  Zurich  should  again  be  unfurled, 
and  carried  through  the  city  gates  at  the  call  of  a  fo- 
reign prince. 

Mortified  by  the  ill  success  of  the  cause  which  he 
had  espoused  as  a  citizen,  Zwingle  devoted  himself 
with  renewed  zeal  to  the  diffusion  of  the  Gospel.  He 
preached  with  greater  energy  than  ever.  "  I  will  never 
desist,"  said  he,  "  from  my  labours  to  restore  the  pri- 
mitive unity  of  the  church  of  Christ."!  He  opened 
the  year,  1522,  with  the  first  of  a  series  of  discourses, 
in  which  he  pointed  out  the  difference  between  the 
precepts  of  the  Gospel  and  those  of  men.  When  the 
season  of  Lent  arrived,  his  exhortations  assumed  a  still 
more  impressive  tone.  Having  laid  the  foundation* 
of  the  new  edifice,  he  was  solicitous  to  clear  away  the 
ruins  of  the  old  one.  *'  For  the  space  of  four  years,"  said 
he  to  the  crowd  assembled  in  the  Cathedral,  "  ye  have 
gladly  received  the  holy  doctrines  of  the  Gospel.  The 
love  of  God  has  glowed  within  your  bosoms  :  ye  have 
tasted  the  sweetness  of  the  heavenly  manna  ;  it  is  im- 
possible that  ye  should  now  find  savour  or  sustenance 
in  human  traditions."^  He  proceeded  to  argue  against 
the  obligation  to  abstain  from  flesh  at  particular  sea- 
sons. "  There  are  some,"  he  cried,  in  a  strain  of  un- 
studied eloquence,  "  who  pretend  that  to  eat  flesh  is  a 
fault,  nay,  a  heinous  sin,  though  God  has  never  for- 
bidden it ;  but  who  yet  regard  it  as  no  sin  at  all  to 
sell  human  flesh  to  the  foreigner,  and  deliver  their  bre- 
thren to  be  butchered  !"||  This  bold  language  could 
not  fail  to  awaken  the  indignation  and  anger  of  those 
among  his  auditory  who  supported  the  military  com- 
pacts with  foreign  states  ;  they  inwardly  vowed  that 
they  would  never  forget  it. 

While  he  preached  thus  fearlessly,  Zwingle  still  con- 
tinued to  say  mass  ;  he  observed  the  rules  established 
by  the  church,  and  even  abstained  from  flesh  on  the 
appointed  days.  He  recognised  the  necessity  of  en- 
lightening the  minds  of  the  people  in  the  first  place. 
But  there  were  some  turbulent  spirits  who  acted  with 
less  prudence.  Roubli,  who  had  found  an  asylum  at 
Zurich,  allowed  himself  to  be  hurried  blindly  along  by 
the  impulse  of  an  overcharged  zeal.  He,  but  lately, 
the  curate  of  St.  Albans,  a  Bernese  captain,  and  Con- 
rad Huber,  a  member  of  the  great  council,  were  ac- 
customed to  meet  together  at  Huber's  house,  for  the 
express  purpose  of  eating  flesh  on  Fridays  and  Satur- 
days, an  exploit  in  which  they  greatly  prided  them- 
selves. The  question  of  abstinence  began  to  engross 
the  public  attention.  A  native  of  Lucerne,  who  was 

*  Sagt  wie  es  ein  fromme  Eidtgnossechaffl  zertrennen  und 
umbkehren  wiirde.  (Bullinger,  MS.) 

f  Sie  tragen  billig  rothe  hiit  und  mantel,  dan  schiite  man 
sie,  so  fallen  cronen  und  Duggaten  heraus — winde  man  sie, 
so  riint  deines  Bruders,  Vaters,  Sohns  und  guten  Freunds  Elut 
heraus.  (Ibid.) 

i  Ego  veterem  Christi  ecclesiae  unitatem  instaurare  non  de 
sinam.  (Zw.  Opp.  iii.  47.) 

()  Gustum  non  aliquis  humanarum  traditionum  cibus  vobis 
arridere  potuerit.  ^Ibid.  i.  2.) 

II  Abner  menschentleisch  verkoufen  nn  ze  Tod  schlahen  . 
.  .  (Ibid.  ii.  2d  part.  301.) 


TRUTH  TRIUMPHS— DEPUTIES— COUNCILS— PARTIES  CONFRONTED. 


215 


on  a  visit  in  Zurich,  said  to  a  citizen,  with  whom  he 
was  familiar:  *'You  do  wrong,  you  worthy  confeder- 
ates of  Zurich,  to  eat  flesh  during  Lent."  The  Zu- 
richer  :  "  But  you,  also,  good  folks  of  Lucerne,  take 
the  liberty  of  eating  it  on  days  when  it  is  forbidden." 
The  Lucernese  :  "  We  purchased  our  license  from  the 
pope."  The  Zuricher :  "  And  we  ours  from  the 
butcher*  ....  If  it  is  an  affair  of  money,  the  one, 
surely,  is  as  good  as  the  other."  The  council  having 
been  called  upon  to  punish  those  who  transgressed  the 
ecclesiastical  ordinances,  requested  the  opinion  of  the 
curates  on  this  matter.  Zwingle  replied,  that  the  prac- 
tice of  eating  flesh  on  all  days  alike,  was  in  itself  harm- 
less ;  but  that  it  was  right  to  abstain  from  adopting  it, 
until  the  question  should  have  been  decided  by  some 
competent  authority.  The  other  members  of  the  cle- 
rical body  concurred  in  the  same  opinion. 

The  enemies  of  the  truth  took  advantage  of  this  for- 
tunate circumstance.  Their  influence  was  fast  declin- 
ing— Zwingle's  ascendancy  becoming  paramount — it 
was  necessary  to  strike  a  prompt  and  vigorous  blow. 
They  addressed  an  urgent  appeal  to  the  Bishop  of 
Constance.  "  Zwingle,"  cried  they,  is  the  destroyer, 
not  the  pastor  of  the  Lord's  flock." t 

The  ambitious  Faber,  Zwingle's  former  friend,  had 
recently  undertaken  a  journey  to  Rome,  and  returned 
full  of  zeal  for  the  papacy.  To  the  notions  which  he 
had  imbibed  during  his  sojourn  in  that  imperious  court, 
we  must  ascribe  the  first  outbreak  of  the  religious  trou- 
bles in  Switzerland.  The  time  had  now  arrived  for  a 
decisive  struggle  between  Gospel  truth  and  the  retain- 
ers of  the  Roman  pontiff.  Until  the  truth  has  been 
exposed  to  hostile  efforts,  its  innate  power  is  never 
fully  elicited.  It  was  under  the  cold  shadow  of  oppo- 
sition and  persecution  that  Christianity,  in  its  earliest 
growth,  acquired  the  strength  by  which  its  enemies 
were  eventually  discomfited.  And  at  the  epoch  of  the 
great  revival,  which  forms  the  subject  of  this  history, 
it  was  the  will  of  God  that  His  truth  should  march  on- 
ward in  the  same  rugged  and  thorny  track.  The  high- 
priests  then,  as  in  the  days  of  the  Apostles,  set  them- 
selves against  the  new  doctrine.  But  for  these  assaults, 
it  might,  perhaps,  have  remained  concealed  in  the  secret 
chamber  of  a  few  believing  hearts.  But  God's  pur- 
pose was  to  manifest  it  to  the  world.  Opposition  had 
the  effect  of  clearing  new  avenues  for  its  passage, 
launching  it  on  a  new  career,  and  fixing  on  it  the  eyes 
of  the  entire  nation.  It  operated  like  the  gust  of  wind, 
that  scatters  the  seed  to  a  distance,  which  otherwise, 
perhaps,  might  have  laid  inert  and  unprofitable  in  the 
spot  where  it  fell.  The  tree,  under  whose  salutary  fo- 
liage the  tribes  of  Helvetia  were  to  find  rest  and  shel- 
ter, had  been  planted,  indeed,  in  the  depths  of  her 
valleys  ;  but  the  storm  was  needed  to  give  its  roots 
a  firmer  hold  of  the  soil,  and  to  enlarge  the  covert  of 
its  branches.  The  partisans  of  the  papacy  no  sooner 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  flame  that  had  been  kindled 
at  Zurich,  than  they  hastened,  while  it  was  yet  smoul- 
dering, to  stifle  it ;  but  their  efforts  served  only  to  fan 
it  into  vigour. 

On  the  7th  of  April,  1529,  in  the  after  part  of  the 
day,  three  ecclesiastics,  intrusted  with  a  mission  from 
the  Bishop  of  Constance,  entered  the  walls  of  Zurich. 
Two  of  them  had  an  austere  and  angry  cast  of  coun- 
tenance, the  third  was  of  gentler  aspect.  These  per- 
sons were  Mclchior  Battli,  the  bishop's  coadjutor, 
Doctor  Brendi,  lastly,  John  Vanner,  the  preacher,  of 
the  cathedral,  a  man  of  evangelical  piety,  who  was  si- 
lent throughout  the  whole  affair.^  It  was  already  late 

*  So  haben  wirs  von  dem  Zetzger  Erkaufft . .  (Bulling.  MS.) 
t  Ovilis  dominici  populator  esse,  non  custos  aut  pastor.  (Zw. 
Opp.  iii.) 
t  (Zw.  Opp.  p.  S-J^-J.  J.  Hotinger,  (iii. 77.)— Ruchat,  (i.  134, 


in  the  evening,  when  Luti  ran  to  Zwingle  to  tell  him 
the  news.  "  Officers  have  arrived  from  the  bishop," 
said  he,  "  some  great  blow  is  to  be  struck  ;  all  who 
favour  the  old  customs  are  in  commotion.  A  notary 
is  now  going  round  to  give  notice  of  an  assembly  of 
the  clergy,  to  be  held  at  an  early  hour  to-morrow,  in  the 
chapter-house." 

The  assembly  was  held  accordingly  on  the  following 
morning  ;  when  the  coadjutor  rose,  and  delivered  a 
speech,  which  his  opponents  characterised  as  violent 
and  arrogant;*  he  studiously  refrained,  however,  from 
mentioning  Zwingle  by  name.  Some  priests,  who  had 
lately  been  won  over  to  the  Gospel,  and  who  were  yet 
weak  in  the  faith,  were  over- awed — their  paleness, 
their  silence,  their  sighs,  testified  that  they  had  lost 
all  courage. t  Zwingle  stood  up  and  delivered  a 
speech,  which  his  adversaries  made  no  attempt  to  an- 
swer. At  Zurich,  as  in  the  other  cantons,  the  most 
violent  enemies  of  the  new  doctrine  were  to  be  found 
in  the  smaller  council.  The  deputies  having  been  baf- 
fled in  the  meeting  of  the  clergy,  now  carried  their 
complaint  before  the  magistrates.  Zwingle  was  ab- 
sent ;  they  had,  therefore,  no  reply  to  fear.  The  re- 
sult appeared  decisive.  The  Gospel  and  its  champion 
were  on  the  point  of  being  condemned  without  a  hear- 
ing. Never  was  the  Reformation  in  Switzerland  in 
more  imminent  peril.  It  seemed  destined  to  be  smo- 
thered in  its  cradle.  In  this  emergency,  the  council- 
lors who  were  friendly  to  Zwingle,  appealed  to  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  great  council ;  it  was  their  only 
remaining  resource,  and  God  was  pleased  to  make  it 
availing  for  the  preservation  of  the  Gospel.  The  two 
hundred  were  convened.  The  partisans  of  the  papacy 
used  every  endeavour  to  exclude  Zwingle  from  that 
assembly.  Zwingle  struggled  hard  to  obtain  admis- 
sion. He  knocked  at  every  door,  as  he  himself  tells 
us,  and  left  not  a  stone  unturned  ;J  but  all  in  vain. 
"  It  is  impossible  !"  said  the  burgomasters  ;  "  the 
council  has  signed  an  order  to  the  contrary."  "  There- 
upon," says  Zwinle,  "  I  desisted,  and  with  heavy  sighs 
laid  the  matter  before  Him  who  hears  the  groanings 
of  the  prisoner,  beseeching  him  to  succour  his  Gos- 
pel. "$  The  patient  and  submissive  expectation  of  a 
servant  of  God  is  never  disappointed. 

On  the  ninth  of  April,  the  two  hundred  were  assem- 
bled. "  We  must  have  our  pastors  here,"  said  those 
members  at  once  who  were  friendly  to  the  Reforma- 
tion. The  smaller  council  objected  ;  but  the  great 
council  determined  that  the  pastors  should  be  present 
at  the  accusation,  and  might  even  reply  to  it,  if  they 
should  think  fit.  The  deputies  from  Constance  were 
ushered  in  first,  and  then  the  three  curates  of  Zurich, 
Zwingle,  Engelhard,  and  the  aged  Roeschli. 

After  the  adverse  parties,  who  were  thus  brought 
face  to  face,  had  regarded  each  other  for  a  while,  with 
scrutinizing  glances,  the  coadjutor  rose  to  speak.  "  If 
his  heart  and  his  head  had  only  been  matched  with  his 
voice,"  says  Zwingle,  "  he  would  have  excelled 
Apollo  and  Orpheus  in  sweetness,  and  the  Gracchi 
and  Demosthenes  in  power." 

"  The  civil  constitution,"  said  the  champion  of  the 
papacy,  "  and  the  Christian  religion  'tself,  are  threat- 
ened with  ruin.  Men  have  appeared  among  us  teach- 

2d  edition,)  and  others  say  that  Faber  was  at  the  head  of  the 
deputation.  Zwingle  gives  the  names  of  the  three  deputies, 
and  makes  no  mention  of  Faber.  The  authors  first  cited  have, 
no  doubt,  confounded  two  distinct  offices  of  the  Roman  hier- 
archy— the  coadjutor  and  the  vicar-general. 

*  Erat  totaoratio  vehemens  et  stomachi  supercilique  plena. 
(Zw.  Opp.  iii.  8.) 

f  Infirmos  quosdam  nuper  Christo  lucrifactos  sacerdotes  of- 
fensos  ea  sentirem  ex  tacitis  palloribus  ac  suspiriis.  (Ibid.  9.) 

i  Frustra  diu  movi  omnem  lapidem.    (Ibid.) 

^  Ibi  ego  quiescere  ac  suspiriis  rem  agere  coepi  apud  cum 
qui  audit  gemitum  compeditorum.  (Zw.  Opp.  iii.  9.) 


216 


THE  COADJUTOR  AND  ZWINGLE— HOFFMAN'S  CHARGE. 


ins  newly-invented  doctrines,  that  are  equally  abomi- 
nable and  seditious."  He  went  on  for  some  time  in 
the  same  strain,  and  then,  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  assem- 
bled senators,  before  whom  he  stood  :  Continue  in  the 
church,"  said  he  "continue  in  the  church.  Out  of  the 
church  none  can  be  saved.  The  ceremonies  of  the 
church  alone  can  bring  unlearned  Christians  to  the 
knowledge  of  salvation  ;*  and  the  pastors  of  the  flock 
have  nothing  to  do  but  to  explain  the  signification  of 
these  ceremonies  to  the  people." 

When  the  coadjutor  had  finished  his  speech,  and 
resumed  his  seat  for  a  moment,  he  again  rose,  and  was 
preparing  with  his  colleagues  to  leave  the  council-hall, 
when  Zwingle  earnestly  addressed  him. — "  Reverend 
Coadjutor!"  said  he,  "and  you,  Sirs,  who  bear  him 
company  !  I  beseech  you  to  stay,  until  I  have  answered 
this  charge." 

TUB  COADJUTOR.  "It  is  not  our  commission  to 
dispute  with  any  one." 

ZWINGI.E.    "  I  wish  not  to  dispute,  but  to  state,  un- 
reservedly, what  my  doctrine  has  been,  up  to  this  hour." 
THE  BURGOMASTER,  ROUST — (addressing  the  depu- 
ties from  Constance.)    "  I  pray  you  listen  to  what  the 
curate  has  to  say  in  reply." 

THE  COADJUTOR.  "  I  know  too  well  the  man  I 
have  to  deal  with.  Ulrich  Zwingle  is  too  violent 
for  any  discussion  to  be  held  with  him." 

ZWINGLE.  "  Was  there  ever  an  instance  before  of 
an  innocent  man  being  so  vehemently  attacked,  and 
then  denied  a  hearing  1  In  the  name  of  that  faith 
which  we  all  profess ;  in  the  name  of  the  baptism 
which  each  of  us  has  received  ;  in  the  name  of  Christ, 
the  author  of  salvation  and  eternal  life  ;  I  adjure  you 
to  listen  to  me  !t  If  you  cannot,  as  deputies,  do  so, 
at  least,  as  Christians." 

After  having  discharged  her  idle  volley,  Rome  was 
hastily  retreating  from  the  field  of  battle.  The  Re- 
former was  anxious  only  to  be  heard  ;  the  papal  en- 
voys thought  but  of  escaping.  A  cause  thus  advo- 
cated was  already  gained  by  the  one  party,  and  lost 
by  the  other.  The  two  hundred  could  no  longer  con- 
tain their  indignation  ;  a  rnurmurt  ran  through  the 
whole  assembly  ;  again  the  burgomaster  remonstrated 
with  the  deputies.  At  last,  abashed  and  silenced, 
they  returned  to  their  seats.  Then  Zwingle  spoke  as 
follows  : 

"  The  Reverend  coadjutor  talks  of  doctrines  that  are 
seditious  and  subversive  of  civil  authority.  Let  him 
learn  that  Zurich  is  more  tranquil  and  more  obedient 
to  the  laws,  than  any  city  in  Switzerland — a  blessing 
which  all  good  Christians  attribute  to  the  Gospel. 
What  influence  so  powerful  as  that  of  Christianity,  to 
maintain  good  order  in  a  community^  As  for  cere- 
monies, what  purpose  do  they  serve,  but  to  disfigure 
the  lineaments  of  Christ  and  his  followers  ?||  No — it 
is  not  by  vain  observances  like  these  that  the  unlearned 
multitude  can  be  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth. 
There  is  another  and  a  better  way.  It  is  the  .way  that 
Christ  and  his  apostles  have  marked  out  for  us — even 
the  Gospel  itself.  Let  us  not  be  told  that  the  people 
cannot  understand  the  Gospel.  Whosoever  believes, 
must  needs  understand.  The  people  can  believe  ;  there- 
fore, they  can  understand.  This  is  an  operation  of  the 
Holy  Spirit — not  of  the  human  intellect.  1T  With  re- 

*  Unicas  esse  per  quas  simplices  Christian!  ad  agmitionem 
salutis  inducerentur.  (Ibid.  10.) 

f  Ob  communem  fidem,  ob  communem  baptismum,  ob  Chris- 
tum vitfe  salutisqueauctorem.  (Z\v.  Opp.  iii.  11.) 

i  Coepit  murmur  audiri  civium  indignantium.    (Ibid.) 

§  Imo  Christianismum  ad  communem  justitiam  servandam 
esse  potentissimum.  (Zw.  Opp.  iii.  13.) 

||  Ceuemonias  haudquicquam  aliud  agere  quam  et  Christ 
et  ejtis  fidelibusos  oblinere.  (Ibid.) 

1T  Quidquid  hie  agitur  divino  fit  afflata,  non  humano  ratio 
cinio.  (Ibid.) 


gard  to  abstinence,  let  him  who  thinks  forty  days  in- 
sufficient, fast,  if  he  will,  all  the  year  round.  It  con- 
cerns not  me  !  All  that  I  contend  for  is,  that  no  one 
should  be  compelled  to  fast ;  and  that  the  Zurichers 
ought  not,  for  the  neglect  of  this  petty  observance,  to 
je  accused  of  withdrawing  themselves  from  the  com- 
nunion  of  Christians  .  .  ." 

"  I  never  said  that  !"  cried  the  coadjutor.  "  No  !" 
said  his  colleague,  Doctor  Brendi,  "  he  did  not  say 
that."  But  the  senate  unanimously  confirmed  the  as- 
sertion of  Zwingle. 

"  Worthy  fellow  citizens,"  continued  Zwingle,  "  let 
not  this  accusation  move  you.  The  foundation  of  the 
church  is  the  same  rock,  the  same  Christ,  that  gave 
3eter  his  name,  because  he  confessed  him  faithfully. 
In  every  nation,  whosoever  believes,  with  all  his  heart, 
n  the  Lord  Jesus,  is  accepted  of  God.  Here,  truly, 
s  the  church,  out  of  which  no  one  can  be  saved.*  To 
explain  the  Gospel,  arid  to  obey  it — such  is  the  sum  of 
our  duty  as  the  ministers  of  Christ. 

'  Let  those  who  live  upon  ceremonies  make  it  their 
)usiness  to  explain  them  !"  This  was  probing  the 
wound  to  the  quick. 

A  flush  passed  over  the  Coadjutor's  face,  but  he 
emained  silent.  The  assembly  of  the  Two  Hundred 
)roke  up.  On  the  same  day  they  came  to  the  resolu- 
ion,  that  the  pope  and  the  cardinals  should  be  request 
ed  to  explain  the  controverted  point,  and  that  in  the 
mean  time  abstinence  from  flesh  should  be  observed 
during  Lent.  This  was  leaving  the  matter  as  it  stood, 
and  meeting  the  bishop  by  an  expedient  to  gain  time. 

The  effect  of  this  controversy  was  to  forward  the 
work  of  the  Reformation.  The  champions  of  Rome, 
and  those  of  the  new  doctrines,  had  encountered  each 
other,  in  the  presence,  it  might  be  said,  of  the  whole 
aeople,  and  the  issue  had  not  been  to  the  advantage  of 
ihe  former.  This  was  the  first  conflict  in  a  warfare 
which  was  destined  to  be  long  and  difficult,  and 
marked  by  many  vicissitudes  of  humiliation  and  rejoic- 
ing. But  victory  won  at  the  commencement  of  a  con- 
test inspires  an  army  with  courage,  and  strikes  terror 
into  the  enemy.  The  Reformation  had  gained  a  van- 
tage-ground, from  which  it  was  not  to  be  dislodged. 
The  Council  indeed,  found  it  necessary  to  proceed 
with  caution  ;  but  the  people  loudly  proclaimed  the 
defeat  of  Rome.  "  Never,"  said  they,  in  the  exulta- 
tion of  the  moment,  "  never  again  can  she  rally  her 
scattered  forces."!  "  You  have  shown  the  spirit  of 
St.  Paul  himself,"  said  one  of  Zwingle's  correspon- 
dents, "  in  this  manful  attack  on  those  whited  walls — 
those  false  apostles  and  their  Ananias.  The  servants 
of  Antichrist  can  now  only  gnash  their  teeth  against 
you  !" — From  the  heart  of  Germany  there  came  voices 
that  hailed  him — "  the  glory  of  regenerated  theo- 
logy !"l 

But  in  the  mean  time  the  enemies  of  the  truth 
were  collecting  all  their  strength.  If  the  Gospel  waa 
to  be  suppressed  at  all,  there  was  no  time  to  be  lost, 
for  it  would  soon  bid  defiance  to  their  efforts.  Hoff- 
man impeached  the  Reformer  in  a  written  discourse 
of  great  length,  which  he  addressed  to  the  chapter. 
"  Even  though  the  curate,"  said  he,  "  could  bring  for- 
ward witnesses  to  prove  that  certain  offences  or  dis- 
orders had  been  committed  by  ecclesiastics  in  such 
and  such  a  convent,  or  street,  or  tavern,  it  would  be  a 
breach  of  duty  to  name  the  delinquents  !  Why  does 
he  insinuate — (it  is  true  1  have  scarcely  ever  heard  him 
myself,)  that  he  alone  derives  his  doctrine  from  the 
fountain-head,  while  others  draw  theirs  from  puddleg 

*  Extra  illam  neminem  salvari.     (Ibid.  iii.  15.) 
t  Ut,  vulgo  jactatum  sit,  nunquam  ultra  copias  sarturos. 
(Zw.  Epp.  203.) 

\  Vale  renascentis  Theologise  decus.  (Letter  of  Urban  Re- 
gius. Sw.  Epp.  205.) 


ZWINGLE'S  REPLY— THE  BISHOPS  MANDATE— HE  APPEALS  TO  THE  DIET.  217 


and  kennels  ?*  Is  it  not  impossible — seeing  the  differ- 
ence of  men's  minds — that  all  preachers  should  preach 
alike?" 

Zwingle  defended  himself  in  a  full  assembly  of  the 
chapter,  scattering  his  adversaries'  charges,  "  as  a  bull 
with  his  horns  scatters  a  whisp  of  straw  to  the  wind."t 
The  affair  which  had  appeared  so  serious,  ended  in  a 
peal  of  laughter  at  the  canon's  expense.  But  Zwin- 
gle did  not  stop  here— on  the  16th  of  April  he  pub- 
lished a  treatise  "o#  the  free  use  of  wieate."t 

The  Reformer's  unconquerable  firmness  was  a  cause 
of  rejoicing  to  all  who  loved  the  truth,  and  particularly 
to  the  evangelical  Christians  of  Germany,  afflicted  as 
they  were  by  the  long  imprisonment  at  Wartburg,  of 
that  eminent  apostle  who  had  first  appeared  in  the 
bosom'  of  the  Church.  Already  there  were  instances 
of  pastors  and  believing  laymen  who  had  been  driven 
into  exile  by  the  rigorous  edict  which  Charles,  under  the 
influence  of  the  Papacy,  had  issued  at  Worms — and 
who  had  found  an  asylum  at  Zurich.  "  Oh,  how  it 
gladdens  my  heart !"  was  the  language  of  a  letter 
written  to  Zwingle  by  Nesse,  the  professor  of  Frank- 
fort, whom  Luther  had  visited  on  his  way  to  the  Diet 
— "  how  it  gladdens  my  heart  to  hear  with  what  bold- 
ness you  are  preaching  Christ  Jesus  !  Strengthen  by 
your  exhortations,  I  beseech  you,  those  whom  the 
cruelty  of  unworthy  prelates  has  banished  from  our 
bereaved  churches. "$ 

But  it  was  not  in  Germany  alone  that  the  friends  of 
the  Reformation  were  exposed  to  the  deadly  machina- 
tions of  their  adversaries.  Not  a  day  passed  but  secret 
meetings  were  held  at  Zurich,  to  devise  some  method 
of  getting  rid  of  Zwingle.  II  One  day  he  received  an 
anonymous  letter,  which  he  immediately  communicat- 
ed to  his  two  vicars.  "  You  are  beset  with  snares 
on  every  side,"  said  the  writer,  "  a  potent  poison  has 
been  prepared  to  deprive  you  of  life.  IT  Partake  of  no 
food  but  in  your  own  house  ;  eat  no  bread  but  what 
your  own  cook  has  baked.  There  are  those  within  the 
walls  of  Zurich  who  are  leagued  for  your  destruction. 
The  oracle  which  has  revealed  this  to  me,  is  better 
entitled  to  credit  than  that  of  Delphi.  I  am  your 
friend  ;  my  name  you  shall  know  hereafter."** 

On  the  morning  following  the  day  on  which  Zwin- 
gJe  received  this  mysterious  epistle,  just  as  Staheli 
was  entering  the  Water-church,  a  chaplain  stopped 
him  and  said — "  Leave  Zwingle's  house  with  all  speed  : 
a  catastrophe  is  at  hand  !"  Some  unknown  fanatics, 
who  despaired  of  seeing  the  Reformation  checked  by 
words,  had  betaken  themselves  to  the  dagger.  When 
mighty  revolutions  are  in  progress,  and  the  foul  dregs  of 
society  are  heaved  upon  its  agitated  surface,  we  often 
see  the  assassin  playing  a  conspicuous  part.  Zwingle 
was  preserved,  however,  for  God  watched  over  him. 

But,  while  the  plots  of  the  murderers  were  baffled, 
the  legitimate  engines  of  the  Papacy  were  again  put 
in  motion.  The  bishop  and  his  counsellors  were  de- 
termined to  renew  the  war.  Tidings  to  this  effect 
reached  Zwingle  from  every  quarter.  The  Reformer, 
still  leaning  on  the  word  of  God,  replied,  with  high- 
minded  intrepidity — "  I  fear  them  as  a  lofty  crag  fears 
the  roaring  waves  that  dash  against  the  base  "ft  .  .  . 
cvv  T<J  few.  "  God  being  my  helper,"  added  he. 

»  Die  andern  aber  aus  Rinnen  und  Pfiitzen.  (Simml.  Sam- 
Wirz.  I.  244.) 

+  Ut  cornu  vehemens  taurus  aristas.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  203.) 

j  De  deluctu  et  libero  ciborum  usu.     (Zw.  Opp.  i.  1.) 

&  Et  ut  iis  qui  ob  malorum  episcoporum  saevitiam  a  nobis 
Bubmoventur  prodesse  velis.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  203.) 

||  Nulla  praeterierat  hora,  in  qua  non  tierent . .  .  consultatio- 
nes  insidiosissimag.  (Osw.  Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 

1T  "Erotica  (pap^aKa  \vypa.     (Ibid.  199.) 

**£(5$  w'/M  ;  agnosces  me  postea.    (Ibid.) 

ft  Quos  ita  metuo  ut  litua  altum  fluctaumondas  minaciron. 
(Zw.  Epp.  203  ) 

Dd 


On  the  2d  of  May,  the  Bishop  of  Constance  issued  a 
mandate,  in  which,  without  any  mention  of  Zurich,  or 
of  Zwingle,  he  complained  that  evil-disposed  persons 
were  reviving  doctrines  which  had  long  since  been 
condemned,  and  that  learned  and  unlearned  men  were 
alike  every  where  irreverently  discussing  the  roost  ex- 
alted mysteries.  John  Vanner,  preacher  of  the  cathe- 
dral of  Constance,  was  the  first  who  was  individually 
attacked.  "  I  choose,"  said  he,  "  rather  to  be  a 
Christian,  though  I  incur  the  hatred  of  many,  than  to 
purchase  the  friendship  of  the  world  by  forsaking 
Christ  !»* 

But  it  was  at  Zurich  that  the  death-blow  must  be 
dealt  against  the  infant  heresy.  Faber  and  the  bishop 
knew  that  Zwingle  had  many  enemies  among  the 
canons.  They  resolved  to  take  advantage  of  this  cir- 
cumstance. Toward  the  end  of  May  a  letter  from 
the  bishop  was  received  at  Zurich  addressed  to  the  prin- 
cipal and  chapter.  "  Sons  of  the  Church,"  said  the 
prelate,  "  let  those  perish  who  will  perish  !  but  let 
none  entice  you.  to  abandon  the  Church."}  At  the 
same  time,  the  bishops  charged  the  canons  to  prevent 
those  pernicious  doctrines  which  were  giving  birth  to 
dangerous  sects  from  being  preached  among  them,  or 
made  the  subject  of  discussion  either  in  private  or  in 
public.  When  this  letter  was  read  in  the  chapter,  ail 
eyes  were  turned  upon  Zwingle.  He  could  not  but 
know  what  that  look  implied.  ««  You  think,"  said  he, 
'  I  perceive  that  this  letter  has  reference  to  me ;  be 
pleased  to  deliver  it  to  me  then,  and,  by  God's  help,  I 
will  answer  it." 

Zwingle's  answer  was  embodied  in  a  work,  bearing 
the  title  of  Archeteles,  which  signifies  the  "  beginning 
and  the  end  ;"  "for,"  said  he,  "I  hope  that  this  my  first 
reply  will  also  be  my  last."  In  this  production,  he 
speaks  in  a  very  respectful  manner  of  the  bishop,  and 
dscribes  all  the  hostility  of  which  he  had  to  complain 
to  the  malevolence  of  a  few  designing  men.  "  What, 
after  all,  is  my  offence  1"  he  asks,  "  I  have  endea- 
voured to  open  men's  eyes  to  the  peril  of  their  souls  ; 
"  have  laboured  to  bring  them  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
only  true  God,  and  Christ  Jesus  his  Son,  To  this  end 
I  have  employed  no  subtle  argument,  but  the  word  of 
truth  and  soberness,  such  as  my  brethren  of  Switzer- 
land could  understand."  Then  exchanging  his  defen- 
sive posture  for  that  of  an  assailant,  he  significantly 
adds  :  "  Julius  Caesar,  when  he  felt  that  he  had  receiv- 
ed a  mortal  wound,  exerted  his  remaining  strength  to 
gather  his  robe  around  him,  that  he  might  fall  with 
dignity.  The  downfall  of  your  ceremonies  is  at  hand  ; 
be  it  your  care  to  give  their  fate  what  decency  you  may 
— and  to  speed  the  inevitable  transition  from  darkness 
to  light. "t 

This  was  all  the  effect  produced  by  the  bishop's 
letter  to  the  chapter  of  Zurich.  Since  every  milder  ex- 
pedient proved  ineffectual,  it  became  necessary  now 
to  strike  a  vigorous  blow.  Faber  and  Landenberg, 
cast  their  eyes  around  them,  and  fixed  them  at  last  on 
the  Diet,  the  Council  of  the  Helvetic  nation. $  De- 
puties from  the  bishop  presented  themselves  before 
that  assembly  ;  they  stated  that  their  master  had  issu- 
ed a  mandate  forbidding  the  priests  of  his  diocese  to 
attempt  any  innovation  in  matters  of  doctrine  ;  that 
his  injunction  had  been  set  at  nought,  and  that  he  con- 
sequently appealed  to  the  heads  of  the  confederation 

*  Malo  esse  Christianus  cum  multorum  invidia  quam  re- 
linquere  Christum  propter  mundanorum  amicitam.  (Ibid, 
200.  22  May.) 

t  Nemo  vos  filios  ecclesias  de  ecclesia  tollat.  (Zw  Opp. 
iii.  35.) 

}  In  umbrarum  locum  lux  quam  ocissime  inducatur.  (Zw. 
Opp.  3.  69.) 

<l  Nam  er  oin  anderen  Weg  an  die  Hand  ;  schikc  seine  Bo- 
ten  ...  &c.  (Bullinger,  MS.) 


218 


ZWINGLE  AND  THE  MONKS.— THE  NUNS  OF  OETENBACH. 


to  aid  him  in  reducing  the  rebels  to  obedience,  and  in 
maintaining  the  true  and  ancient  faith.*  The  enemies 
of  the  Reformation  had  the  ascendency  in  this  su- 
premo assembly  of  the  nation.  But  a  little  before,  it 
had  issued  a  decree  by  which  all  the  priests  were  re- 
quired to  desist  from  preaching ;  on  the  ground  that 
their  discourses  tended  to  stir  up  dissensions  among 
the  people.  This  decree  of  the  Diet,  its  first  act  of 
interference  with  the  Reformation,  had  not  hitherto 
been  enforced  ;  but  now,  being  bent  on  rigorous  mea- 
sures, the  assembly  summoned  before  it  Urban  Weiss, 
the  pastor  of  Fislispach,  near  Baden,  who  was  accused 
by  public  report  of  preaching  the  new  doctrine,  and 
rejecting  the  old.  The  proceedings  against  Weiss 
were  suspended  for  a  while  at  the  intercession  of  a 
numerous  body  of  citizens,  security  having  first  been 
exacted  from  him  to  the  amount  of  a  hundred  florins, 
which  were  collected  by  his  parishioners. 

But  the  Diet  had  taken  a  side  in  the  contest ;  this 
was  evident,  and  the  monks  and  priests  began  to  re- 
cover their  courage.     At  Zurich  they  had  assumed  a 
haughtier  aspect  immediately  on  the  promulgation  of 
the  first  decree.     Several  members   of  the    Council 
were  accustomed  to  visit  the  three  convents  every  morn- 
ing and  evening,  and  even  to  take  their  meals  there.  The 
monks  lectured  their  well-meaning  guests,  and  urged 
them  to  procure  an  ordinance  from  the  government  in 
their  favour.     "  If  Zwingle  will  riot  hold  his  peace," 
said  they,  "  we  will  cry  out  louder  than  he  !"     The 
Diet  had  openly  espoused  the  cause  of  the  oppressors  : 
the  Council  of  Zurich  knew  not  how  to  act.     On  the 
7th  of  June,  it  published  an  ordinance  forbidding  any 
one  to  preach  against  the  monks  ;  but  no  sooner  had 
this  ordinance  been  voted,  than  a  sudden  noise  was 
heard  in  the  council-chamber,"  says  Bullinger's  Chroni- 
cle, "  so  that  all  present  looked  at  each  other  in  dis- 
may .J't    Tranquillity  was  not  restored ;  on  the  con- 
trary, the  contest  which  was  carried  on  in  the  pulpits 
grew  warmer  every  day.     The  Council  appointed  a 
committee,  before  whom  the  pastors  of  Zurich,  and  the 
readers  and  preachers  of  the  convents,  were  respec- 
tively summoned  to  appear  in  the  Principal's  dwell- 
ing-house.     After  a  keen  debate,   the  Burgomaster 
enjoined    both  parties  to  refrain  from  preaching  any 
thing  that  might  breed  discord.     *'  I  cannot  submit  to 
this  injunction,"  said  Zwingle  ;     "  I  claim  the  right 
of  preaching  the  Gospel  freely,  without  any  condition 
whatsoever,  agreeably  to  the  former  ordinance.     I  am 
bishop  and  pastor  of  Zurich  :  it  is  to  me  that  the  care 
of  souls  has  been  confided.     I  am  under  the  obliga- 
tion of  an  oath,  from  which  the  monks  are  exempt. 
They  are  the  party  who  ought  to  give  way,  not  I.     If 
they  preach  what  is  false,  I  will  contradict  them,  were 
it  even  in  the  pulpit  of  their  own  convent.     If  I  my- 
self preach  any  doctrine  contrary  to  the  Holy  Gospel, 
then  I  desire  to  be  rebuked,  not  only  by  the  chapter, 
but  by  any  private  citizen,}:  and  moreover  to  be  pun- 
ished by  the  Council."     "  And  we,"  said  the  monks, 
"  on  our  part,  demand  permission  to  preach  the  doc- 
trines of  St.  Thomas."     The  committee  of  the  Coun- 
cil, after  mature  deliberation,  determined  "that  Tho- 
mas Aquinas,  Scotus,  and  the  other  doctors  should  be 
laid  aside,  and  that  preachers  should  confine   them- 
selves to  the  Holy  Gospel."      Again,  therefore,  the 
truth  was  triumphant.     But  the  anger  of  those  who 
supported  the  Papacy  was  inflamed  to  a  higher  pitch 
The    Italian   canons   could  not  conceal   their   fury 
They  cast  insulting  glances  at  Zwingle  in  the  chapter, 
and  seemed  to  be  thirsting  for  his  bipod. $ 
*  Und  den  wahren  alten  Glaubcn  erhallten.     (Ibid.) 
f  Liessdie  Rathstuben  einen  grosen  Knall.  (Bullinger.MS.) 
j  Sondern  von  einim  jedem  Burger  wysen.  (Bullinger,MS.) 
<}  Oculos  in  me  procacius  torquent,  ut  cujus  eput  peti  gau- 
derent.    (Zw.  Opp.  iii.  29.) 


These  tokens  of  hostility  could  not  intimidate 
Zwingle.  There  was  one  place  in  Zurich  where, 
thanks  to  the  Dominicans,  no  ray  of  light  had  hitherto 
entered ;  this  was  the  nunnery  of  Oetenbach.  The 
daughters  of  the  first  families  of  Zurich  were  accus- 
tomed to  take  the  veil  there.  It  seemed  unjust  that 
these  poor  females,  shut  up  within  the  walls  of  their 
convent,  should  alone  be  debarred  from  hearing  the 
word  of  God.  The  Great  Council  ordered  Zwingle  to 
visit  them.  The  Reformer  accordingly  mounted  the 
pulpit,  which  none  but  the  Dominicans  had  hitherto  oc- 
cupied, and  delivered  a  sermon,  "  On  the  clearness  and 
certainty  of  the  word  of  God."*  He  afterward  published 
this  remarkable  discourse,which  produced  a  great  effect^ 
and  still  further  contributed  to  exasperate  the  monks. 

An  event  now  occurred  which  enlarged  the  sphere 
of  this  religious  animosity,  and  communicated  it  to 
many  a  heart  which  had  as  yet  been  a  stranger  to  its 
nfluence.  The  Swiss,  under  the  command  of  Stein 
and  Winkelried,  had  suffered  a  bloody  defeat  at  Bi- 
cocca.  They  had  made  a  gallant  attack  on  the  enemy  ; 
but  the  artillery  of  Pescara,  and  the  lanzknechts  of 
that  same  Freundsberg  whom  Luther  had  encountered 
at  the  door  of  the  Council-hall  at  Worms,  had  over- 
thrown officers  and  standards,  and  whole  companies  at 
once  had  been  mowed  down  and  exterminated.  Winkel- 
ried and  Stein,  with  many  inferior  chiefs  who  bore  the 
illustrious  names  of  Mulinen  and  Diesbach  and  Bon- 
stetten  and  Tschudi  and  Pfyffer,  had  been  left  on  the 
field  of  battle.  Schwitz,  in  particular,  had  been  bereft 
of  the  bravest  of  her  sons.  The  mangled  remnant  of 
that  disastrous  conflict  returned  to  Switzerland,  car- 
rying mourning  in  their  train.  A  cry  of  unmingled 
lamentation  resounded  from  the  Alps  to  the  Jura> 
from  the  Rhone  even  to  the  Rhine. 

But  no  one  felt  this  calamity  more  keenly  than 
Zwingle.  He  immediately  addressed  a  letter  to  the 
canton  of  Schwitz  to  dissuade  the  citizens  of  that  state 
from  engaging  again  in  foreign  service.  "  Your  an- 
cestor," said  he,  with  all  the  warmth  of  a  true-hearted 
Switzer,  "  contended  with  their  enemies  in  defence  of 
their  liberties  ;  but  never  did  they  imbrue  their  hands 
in  Christian  blood.  These  foreign  wars  bring  upon 
our  country  incalculable  evils.  The  anger  of  God  de- 
scends upon  the  States,  and  Swiss  liberty  is  almost 
lost  between  the  interested  caresses  and  mortal  hatred 
of  foreign  Princes."t  Zwingle  gave  the  right  hand  to 
Nicholas  Von  Flue,  and  supported  the  appeal  of  that 
friend  of  peace.  This  remonstrance  being  presented 
at  a  general  assembly  of  the  people  of  Schwitz,  pro- 
duced such  an  impression,  that  it  was  decreed,  that 
provisionally  the  state  would  decline  any  alliance 
for  the  next  twenty-five  years.  But  it  was  not 
long  before  the  French  party  procured  the  revoca- 
tion of  this  noble  resolution  ;  and  from  that  time 
Schwitz  was,  of  all  the  cantons,  the  most  opposed  to 
Zwingle  and  his  efforts.  Even  the  disgraces  that  the 
same  party  drew  upon  their  country  served  but  to  in- 
crease their  hatred  of  the  bold  preacher  who  was  striv- 
ing to  avert  them.  A  violent  opposition  was  formed 
against  Zurich  and  Zwingle.  The  usages  of  the 
Church,  and  the  recruiting  services,  attacked  at  the 
same  moment,  mutually  supported  each  other  against 
the  rising  wind  which  threatened  both  with  downfall. 
Meanwhile  enemies  were  multiplying  from  without. 
It  was  no  longer  the  Pope  alone,  but  the  other  fo- 
reign princes,  who  vowed  irreconcilable  hatred  to  the 
Reformation.  Its  effect  went  to  deprive  them  of  those 
Swiss  halberds  which  had  added  so  many  triumphs  of 
their  ambition  ...  On  the  side  of  the  Gospel  there 

*  De  claritate  et  certitudine  verbi  Dei.     (Ibid.  i.  06.) 
t  Ein  gottlich  Vermanung  an  die  cersamen,  &c.  eidgnossen 
at  Schwyz.    (Zw.  Opp.  ii.  2d  part,  206.) 


FRANCIS  LAMBERT— PREACHES  AT  ZURICH— THE  CARNIVAL. 


219 


remained — God — and  the  excellent  of  the  earth :  it 
was  more  than  enough.  Divine  Providence  was  be- 
sides bringing  to  its  support  men  of  different  countries 
who  were  persecuted  for  their  faith. 

On  Saturday,  the  12th  of  July,  the  inhabitants  of 
Zurich  witnessed  the  arrival,  in  their  streets,  of  a  monk, 
of  tall,  thin,  and  gaunt  stature,  habited  in  the  grey  frock 
of  the  Cordeliers,  of  foreign  appearance,  and  mounted 
on  an  ass  ;  his  bare  feet  almost  touching  the  ground.* 
In  this  manner  he  arrived  from  the  road  leading  to 
Avignon,  not  knowing  a  word  of  German.  However, 
by  means  of  Latin,  he  contrived  to  make  himself  un- 
derstood. Francis  Lambert,  (for  that  was  his  name,) 
inquired  for  Zwingle,  and  handed  to  him  a  letter  from 
Berthold  Haller :  "  The  Franciscan  father,  who  is  the 
bearer  of  this,"  wrote  the  Bernese  curate,  u  is  no  other 
than  apostolic  preacher  to  the  convent-general  at  Avig- 
non. For  the  last  five  years,  he  has  been  teaching  the 
true  Christian  dotcrine ;  he  has  preached  in  Latin  to 
our  clergy  at  Geneva,  at  Lausanne,  before  the  bishop, 
at  Friburg,  and  latterly  at  Berne,  touching  the  church, 
the  priesthood,  the  sacrament  of  the  mass,  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  Roman  bishops,  and  the  superstitions  of 
religious  orders.  To  me,  such  teaching  from  a  Cor- 
delier, and  a  Frenchman,  (both  characters  that,  as  you 
know,  suppose  a  host  of  superstitions,)  seemed  a  thing 
unprecedented. "t  The  Frenchman  himself  recounted 
to  Zwingle,  that  the  writings  of  Luther  having  been 
discovered  in  his  cell,  he  had  been  obliged  to  leave 
Avignon  at  a  moment's  warning ;  how  he  had  first 
preached  the  Gospel  in  the  city  of  Geneva,  and  after- 
ward at  Lausanne,  on  the  banks  of  the  same  lake. 
Zwingle,  quite  overjoyed,  threw  open  to  him  the  church 
of  our  Lady — assigning  him  a  seat  in  the  choir,  before 
the  high  altar.  There  Lambert  delivered  four  sermons, 
in  which  he  attacked  with  vigour  the  errors  of  Rome  ; 
but,  in  his  fourth  discourse,  ho  defended  the  invoca- 
tion of  the  saints  and  of  Mary. 

"  Brother  !  brother !  you  are  mistaken, "t  exclaimed 
a  loud  voice.  It  was  Zwingle's.  Canons  and  chap- 
lains leaped  for  joy  on  seeing  a  dispute  arising  between 
the  Frenchman  and  the  heretical  curate  :  "  He  has  pub- 
licly attacked  you,"  said  they  to  Lambert,  "  require  of 
him  a  public  discussion."  The  monk  of  Avignon  did 
so : — and,  on  the  22d  of  July,  at  ten  o'clock,  the  two 
disputants  met  in  the  conference-hall  of  the  canons. 
Zwingle  opened  the  Old  and  New  Testament  in  Greek 
and  Latin.  He  discussed  and  expounded  until  two 
o'clock,  when  the  Frenchman,  clasping  his  hands  to- 
gether, and  raising  them  toward  heaven,^  broke  forth  in 
•these  words.  "  I  thank  thee,  O  God,  that,  by  this  thy 
gifted  minister,  thou  hast  granted  to  me  so  clear  a  dis- 
covery ef  the  truth."--"  Henceforth,"  he  added,  turn- 
ing to  the  assembly,  "  in  all  my  trials,  I  will  invoke 
none  but  God  alone,  and  throw  aside  my  beads.  To- 
morrow, I  purpose  to  continue  my  journey.  I  am 
going  to  Bale  to  see  Erasmus,  of  Rotterdam,  and 
thence  to  Wittemberg  to  see  the  Augustine,  Martin 
Luther."  And,  accordingly,  he  took  his  departure  on 
bis  ass.  We  shall  meet  with  him  again.  This  man 
was  the  first  who  went  forth  from  France,  for  the  sake 
of  the  Gospel,  into  Switzerland  and  Germany ;  the 
humble  forerunner  of  many  thousands. 

Myconius  had  no  such  consolations.  On  the  contrary, 
it  was  his  lot  to  see  Sebastian  Hofmeister,  who  had 
come  from  Constance  to  Lucerne,  and  had  there  preach- 
ed the  Gospel  boldly — compelled  to  quit  the  city.  On 
this,  Oswald's  melancholy  increased  : — a  fever  con. 

»  .  .  .  Kara  ein  langer,  gerader,  barfasser  Monch  .  .  ritte 
auf  einer  Eselin.  (Fusslin  Beytrage,  iv .  39.) 

t  A  tali  Franciscano,  Gallo.quse  omnise  mare  superstitio. 
num  confluere  faciunt,  inaudita.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  207.) 

J  Bruder  da  irrest  du.   (Fusslin  Beytr.  iv.  40.) 

§  Dass  er  beyde  Haude  zusammeu  hob.   (Ibid.) 


sumed  him  ;  the  physicians  gave  their  opinion,  that  if 
he  did  not  remove  he  would  die.  "  Nowhere  do  I 
more  wish  to  be  than  with  you,"  wrote  he  to  Zwingle, 
"  and  nowhere  have  I  less  wish  to  be  than  at  Lucerne. 
Men  torment  me,  and  the  climate  destroys  me.  Peo- 
ple say  that  my  disease  is  the  punishment  of  my  ini- 
quity. It  is  in  vain  to  speak  or  do  anything,  they  turn 
everything  to  poison  ....  There  is  One  above,  on 
whom  alone  my  hope  rests."* 

This  hope  was  not  delusive. — It  was  about  the  end 
of  March,  and  Annunciation-day  was  approaching. 
The  day  before  its  eve,  a  solemn  fast  was  observed,  in 
memory  of  a  conflagration  that,  in  1340,  had  reduced 
to  ashes  the  greater  part  of  the  city.  A  crowd  of  peo- 
ple, from  the  environs,  were  collected  together  at  Lu- 
cerne, and  several  hundred  priests  were  assembled.  A 
noted  preacher  usually  preached ;  and,  on  this  occasion, 
Conrad  Schmid,  of  Kusnacht,  commander  of  the  Jo- 
hannites,  arrived  to  take  the  duty.  A  great  crowd 
filled  the  church — but  what  was  their  astonishment, 
when  the  commander,  abandoning  the  customary  Latin 
oration,  spoke  in  plain  German,!  that  all  could  under- 
stand ;  declared,  with  authority  and  holy  zeal,  the  love 
of  God  in  sending  His  Son  into  the  world,  and  elo- 
quently showed  that  our  works  cannot  save  us,  and 
that  God's  promises  are,  in  truth,  the  essence  of  the 
Gospel.  "  God  forbid,"  cried  the  commander,  in  the 
hearing  of  the  astonished  congregation,  "  that  we 
should  recognize  a  head  so  full  of  sin  as  the  Roman 
bishop,  and  thereby  reject  Jesus  Christ.^  If  the  Bishop 
of  Rome  dispenses  the  bread  of  the  Gospel,  let  us  ac- 
knowledge him  as  a  pastor — not  as  our  head  ;  and,  if 
he  does  not  dispense  it,  let  us,  in  no  way  whatever, 
recognize  him."  Oswald  could  not  restrain  his  joy. 

"  What  a  man  !"  he  exclaimed—"  What  a  dis- 
course ! — what  majesty  and  authority  ! — how  full  of 
the  spirit  of  Christ !"  The  effect  was  almost  univer- 
sal. To  the  agitation  which  pervaded  the  town  suc- 
ceeded a  solemn  silence  ;  but  all  this  was  transient — 
if  a  nation  closes  the  ear  to  God's  call,  his  calls  are 
every  day  less  frequent,  and,  ere  long,  they  are  alto- 
gether withdrawn.  This  was  the  fate  of  Lucerne. 

While  truth  was  there  proclaimed  from  the  pulpit — 
at  Berne,  the  Papacy  was  assailed  in  the  festive  meet- 
ings of  the  people.  A  layman  of  reputation,  Nicolas 
Manuel,  famed  for  his  talents,  and  afterward  promoted 
to  high  office  in  the  State,  indignant  at  seeing  his 
countrymen  mercilessly  plundered  by  Samson,  com- 
posed some  carnival  dramas,  in  which  he  keenly  satir- 
ized the  extortion,  haughtiness,  and  pomp,  of  the  pope 
and  clergy.  ...  On  the  mardi  gras,  or  Shrove  Tues- 
day of  their  lordships,  (their  lordships  were  then  the 
clergy,  and  the  clergy  usually  began  their  Lent  eight 
days  before  other  people,)  nothing  was  talked  of  in 
Berne  but  a  drama  or  mystery,  called— the  Feeders 
upon  the  Dead,  which  some  young  folks  were  to  act  in 
the  rue  de  la  Croix.  The  people  flocked  to  the  spot. 
As  literary  productions,  these  dramatic  sketches  of  the 
early  part  of  the  sixteenth  century  possess  some  inte- 
rest— but  it  is  in  a  very  different  point  of  view  that  we 
recal  them  :  we  would  prefer  doubtless  not  to  have  to 
adduce,  on  the  part  of  the  Reformation,  attacks  of  this 
nature ;  as  truth  triumphs  by  far  different  weapons : 
history,  however,  does  not  create,  but  faithfully  trans- 
mits what  she  finds. 

And  now  the  acting  begins,  much  to  the  satisfaction 
of  the  impatient  crowd  gathered  together  in  the  rue  de 
la  Croix.  The  pope  appears,  attired  in  splendid  habi- 

*  Quicquid  facio  venenum  est  illis.  Sed  est  in  quern  omnis 
spes  mea  reclinat.  (Zw.  Epp.  192.) 

f  Wolter  keineprachttryben  mit  lateinscb.watzen,sondern 
gut  teutschreden.  (Bullinger,  MSC.) 

\  Absit  a  grege  Christiano,  ut  caput  tarn  lutulentum  et  pec- 
catis  plenum  acceptans,  Christum  aqjiciat.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  195. 


220 


THE  "FEEDERS  UPON  THE  DEAD.' 


liments,  and  seated  on  a  throne.  Around  him  stand 
his  courtiers  and  body-guard,  and  a  mixed  assemblage 
of  dignified  and  inferior  clergy  : — beyond  them  are  no- 
bles, laymen.,  and  beggars.  Shortly  after,  a  funeral 
procession  appears : — it  is  a  wealthy  farmer  whom  they 
are  carrying  to  his  grave.  Two  of  his  kinsmen  walk 
slowly  in  front  of  the  coffin,  with  handkerchiefs  in  their 
bands.  The  procession  being  arrived  in  the  pope's 
presence,  the  bier  is  lowered,  the  acting  begins  : 

FIRST  RELATIVE. 

The  noble  army  of  saints, 
Take  pity  on  our  lot ; 
Alas  !  our  cousin  is  dead, 
In  the  prime  of  his  life. 

ANOTHER  RELATIVE. 

No  cost  will  we  spare 

For  priests,  friars,  or  nuns, 
Tho'  a  hundred  crowns  we  should  drain ; 

Determined  are  we, 

His  spirit  to  free, 
From  dire  purgatorial  pain.* 

The  SACRISTAN  coming  out  of  the  crowd  near  the 
pope,and  hurrying  to  the  curate.Robert  Ne'er-Enough : — 

My  lord  curate,  let  me  drink  your  health ; 
A  rich  farmer  is  just  dead  ! 

THE  CURATE. 

One,  say  you.    One  is  not  enough. 

One  dead  !  'tis  for  ten  that  1  call : 

The  more  die  off,  the  more  blithely  we  live,"t 

This  death  is  the  best  trick  of  all ! 

THE  SACRISTAN. 

Ah  !  if  I  had  but  my  heart's  desire, 
I'd  pass  my  time  in  tolling  of  knells. 
For  unlike  field  labour,  the  dead  never  tire, 
But  pay  well,  and  tell  no  tales. 

THE  CURATE. 

If  tolling  a  bell  opes  the  gate  of  heaven, 

I  know  not — but  what  does  that  matter  ? 

It  brings  me  in  barbel,  pike,  salmon,  and  trout ; 

And  my  larder  grows,  day  by  day,  fatter 

THE  CURATE'S  NIECE. 

Tis  all  very  well— but  I  put  in  my  claim, 

And  this  soul  must  to-day  me  provide 

With  a  comely  new  gown  of  white,  black,  pink  or 

green, 
And  a  neat  pretty  'kerchief  beside. 

Cardinal  LOFTYLOOK— wearing  the  red  hat,  and  stand 
ing  near  the  Pope  :— 

Did  we  not  love  the  bloody  prize  of  Death, 
Would  we  have  led  to  slaughter,  in  their  prime, 

Those  armed  trains, 

On  battle  plains, 

In  wars,  our  pride  has  kindled  in  our  time  !$ 
The  blood  of  Christians  yields  to  Rome  her  wealth 
Hence  do  1  wear  a  hat  of  sanguine  red, 
Made  fat  with  pomp  and  riches  by  the  dead  ! 

BISHOP  WOLF'S-BELLY. 

By  papal  right  I  mean  to  live  and  die. 
I  wear  rich  silks  and  spend  luxuriously  ; 
I  lead  in  battle,  or  I  hunt  at  will  ! 

*  Kein  kosten  soil  uns  dauern  dran, 
Wo  wir  Monch  und  Priester  mogen  ha'an, 
TJnd  sollt'es  kosten  hundert  kronen  .  .  . 

(Bern.  Mausol.  iv.  Wirz,  K.  Gesch.  i.  383.) 
f  Je  mehr  je  besser  !  Kamen  doch  noch  Zehn  !     (Ibid  ) 
jln  the  German,  the  term  is  more  gross,  Pfafftnmctze. ' 
^  Wcnn  mir  nicht  war'  mil  Todten  wohl, 
So  lag  nichtmancher  Acker  voll,  etc. 

(Bern.  Mausol.  iv.  Wirz,  K.  Gesch.  1 383.) 


If  we,  in  the  first  church,  were  living  still, 
My  cloak  were  what  a  peasant  round  him  flings,* 
But  we  we  were  shepherds  then,  and  now,  we're  king* 
Yet  'mongst  the  shepherds  I  to  pass  intend. 


How  so  ? 


A  VOICE. 


BISHOP  WOLF'S  BELLY. 

At  the  sheep-shearing  time,  my  friend  ! 
Shepherds  and  wolves  are  we  to  our  fat  flocks ', 
They  must  feed  us,  or  fall  beneath  h«rd  knocks. 
Marriage  to  curates  doth  the  Pope  deny  : 
'Tis  well : — but  who  among  them  will  comply  ? 
Not  e'en  the  best  of  them.     That's  better  still ! 
What  matter  scandals? — Bribes  my  coffers  fill. 
Thus  shall  I  better  sport  a  princely  train : 
The  smallest  coin  indeed  I  ne'er  disdain. 
A  priest  with  money  takes  a  wife  discreetly  : 
Four  florins  yearly  .  .  .  seal  my  eyes  completely 
Brings  she  him  children— he  must  bleed  again  .  . . 
Two  thousand  florins  in  a  year  I  gain  : 
If  they  were  virtuous  1  should  starve,  be  sure.f 
Thanks  to  the  Pope  !  him  kneeling  I  adore. 
'Tis  in  his  faith  I'll  live,  his  church  defend, 
And  ask  no  other  God  till  life  shall  end  ! 

THE  FOPE. 

Men  think  that  to  a  haughty  priest  'tis  given 
To  unclose  or  shut  at  will  the  gate  of  heaven. 
— Preach  well  the  conclave's  chosen  one's  decree 
And  we  are  kings — and  laymen  slaves  shall  be  : 
But  if  the  Gospel  standard  he  displayed. 
All's  over  with  us  ! — for  'tis  nowhere  said 

That  men  should  give  their  money  to  the  priest. 
Perhaps  too,  if  the  Gospel  were  obeyed, 
We  should  pass  life  in  poverty  and  shade  . .  . 
Instead  of  these  caparisoned  proud  steeds, 
With  these  rich  carriages  my  household  needs, 

My  holiness  would  ride  a  duller  beast.} 
No — We'll  find  means  to  guard  the  goodly  gains 
Our  predecessors  left — and  quell  rash  aims. 
'Tis  ours  to  will,  and  the  world's  part  to  bow ; 
To  me  as  to  a  God  its  nations  vow ; 
Crushed  by  my  weight  when  I  ascend  its  throne, 
I  give  its  good  things  to  my  pack  alone. 
And  unclean  layman  must  not  touch  our  treasure  ; 
Three  drops  of  holy  water  '11  fill  his  measure  ! 

We  will  not  follow  out  this  literal  rendering  of  Man- 
uel's dramatic  effusion.  The  vexation  of  the  clergy 
on  learning  these  efforts  of  the  Reformers,  their  anger 
against  those  who  would  thus  put  a  stop  to  these  dis- 
orders— is  painted  in  vivid  colours.  The  dissoluteness 
the  mystery  brought  prominently  forward  was  too  ge- 
neral for  each  one  not  to  be  struck  by  the  truth  of  the 
picture.  The  people  were  in  commotion.  Many 
were  the  satirical  jest.s  of  the  spectators  as  they  broke 
up  from  the  spectacle  in  the  rue  de  la  Croix  ;  but 
some  were  more  gravely  affected,  and  these  spoke  of 
the  liberty  of  the  Christian,  and  the  Pope's  despotism, 
contrasting  the  simplicity  of  the  Gospel  with  Romish 
pageantry.  Rapidly  the  popular  contempt  broke  forth 
in  the  public  streets.  On  Ash  Wednesday  the  people 
paraded  the  indulgences  through  the  city,  accompany- 
ing them  with  satirical  songs.  A  heavy  blow  had  been 
struck,  in  Berne,  and  throughout  Switzerland,  at  the 
ancient  edifice  of  Popery. 

Shortly  after  this  dramatic  representation,  another 
comedy  took  place  at  Berne  ;  but  in  this  last,  invention 
had  no  share.  The  clergy,  the  council,  and  the  bur- 
ghers, had  assembled  before  the  upper  gate,  expecting 
the  skull  of  St.  Ann,  which  the  celebrated  knight,  Al- 

*  Wenn  es  stiind,  wie  im  Anfangder  Kilchen, 
Ich  triige  vielleicht  grobes  Tuch  und  Zwilchen.    (Ibid.) 

}  The  German  is  very  expressive.  So  bin  Ich  auf  gut 
Deutsch  em  Hurenwirth.  (Bern.  Mausol.  iv.  Wirz,  K.  Gesch. 
i.  383.1 

|  Wir  mochten  fast  kaum  em  Eselein  ha'n.    (Ibid.) 


THE  SKULL  OF  ST.  ANN— APPENZEL— ADULTERY  AND  MURDER. 


221 


bert  von  Stein,  had  gone  to  fetch  from  Lyons.  After 
waiting  some  time,  Stein  arrived,  bearing  the  precious 
relic,  wrapped  in  a  covering  of  silken  stuff.  On  its 
passage  through  Lausanne,  the  bishop  of  that  place 
had  fallen  on  his  knees  before  it.  The  holy  trophy  was 
carried  in  procession  to  the  church  of  the  Dominicans. 
Bells  were  rung — the  procession  entered,  and  the  skull 
of  the  Virgin's  mother  was  solemnly  deposited  on  the 
altar  dedicated  to  her,  beneath  a  screen  of  costly  lattice- 
work. But  in  the  height  of  the  rejoicing,  came  a  let- 
ter from  the  Abbot  of  the  convent  at  Lyons,  (where  the 
remains  of  the  saint  were  preserved,)  announcing  that 
the  monks  had  tricked  the  knight,  by  imposing  on  him 
an  unclean  skull  picked  up  from  among  the  bones  of 
the  cemetery.  This  imposition  on  the  celebrated  city 
of  Berne  deeply  offended  its  inhabitants. 

The  Reformation  was  making  progress  in  other  parts 
of  Switzerland.  In  1521,  Walter  Klarer,  a  young  man 
of  Appenzel,  returned  from  the  university  of  Paris  to 
his  own  canton.  The  writings  of  Luther  fell  into  his 
hands,  and,  in  1522,  he  preached  the  Gospel  with  all 
the  fervour  of  a  young  Christian.  An  innkeeper, 
named  Rausberg,  a  member  of  the  Council  of  Appen- 
zel, threw  open  his  house  to  the  friends  of  truth.  A 
famous  captain,  Bartholomew  Berwegerrwho  had  fought 
in  the  ranks  for  Julius  II.,  and  Leo  X.,  being  lately  re- 
turned from  Rome,  instantly  set  about  persecuting  the 
new  doctrine.  But  recollecting  one  day  that  he  had 
seen  much  that  was  wrong  at  Rome,  he  began  to  read 
his  Bible  and  hear  the  preachers  ;  his  eyes  were  open- 
ed, and  he  embraced  the  Gospel.  Observing  that  the 
crowds  that  came  could  no  longer  find  room  in  the 
churches  :  "  Why  not  preach  in  the  open  fields  and  in 
the  public  squares  ?"  said  he — in  spite  of  much  oppo- 
sition, the  hills,  meadows,  and  mountains  of  Appenzel, 
from  that  time  often  resounded  with  the  tidings  of  sal- 
vation. 

This  doctrine,  ascending  the  course  of  the  Rhine, 
even  reached  as  far  as  ancient  Rhetia.  One  day,  a 
stranger,  coming  from  Zurich,  passed  the  river,  and 
presented  himself  at  the  door  of  a  saddler  of  Flasch, 
the  first  town  in  the  Grisons.  Christian  Anhorn  listen- 
ed with  amazement  to  the  conversation  of  his  guest. 
"  Preach,  then,"  said  the  whole  village  to  the  stranger, 
whose  name  was  James  Burkli ;  and  Burkli  took  his 
stand  before  the  altar.  A  body  of  armed  men,  with 
Anhorn  at  their  head,  surrounded  him  to  protect  him 
from  any  sudden  attack  ;  and  thus  he  proclaimed  the 
Gospel.  The  report  of  his  preaching  spread  abroad, 
and  on  the  next  Sunday  an  immense  crowd  assembled. 
Very  soon  a  great  number  of  the  inhabitants  of  that 
country  desired  to  partake  of  the  Lord's  supper,  ac- 
cording to  Christ's  appointment.  But  one  day  the 
tocsin  was  suddenly  heard  in  Mayenfield  ;  the  people 
ran  together  in  alarm,  the  priests  depicted  the  dangers 
that  threatened  the  Church,  and — followed  by  this 
fanatic  population — hurried  to  Flasch.  Anhorn,  who 
was  working  in  the  fields,  surprised  by  the  ringing  of 
bells  at  so  unusual  an  hour,  retnrned  home  in  haste, 
and  secreted  Burkli  in  a  deep  pit  that  had  been  dug  in 
his  cellar.  The  house  was  already  surrounded  ;  the 
doors  were  burst  open,  and  strict  search  made  for  the 
heretical  preacher  ;  but  in  vain.  At  length  they  left 
the  place.* 

The  word  of  God  had  spread  through  the  ten  juris- 
dictions of  the  league.  The  curate  of  Mayenfield,  on 
returning  from  Rome,  (whither  he  had  fled  in  indigna- 
tion at  the  progress  of  the  Gospel,)  exclaimed — "  Rome 
has  made  an  evangelist  of  me  !"  and  became  from  that 
time  a  zealous  Reformer.  Ere  long,  the  Reformation 
extended  itself  in  the  league  of  what  was  called  "  the 

*  Anhorn,  Wtedergebnrt  der  Ev.  Kirchen  in  den  3  Bi'mdten. 
Chur.  1680.  Wirz.  i.  557. 


house  of  God."  "  Oh,  if  you  could  but  see  how  the 
inhabitants  of  the  Rhetian  Alps  cast  away  from  them 
the  yoke  of  Babylon  !"  wrote  Salandronius  to  Vadian. 

Revolting  disorders  hastened  the  day  when  Zurich 
and  its  neighbouring  country  should  finally  throw  off 
the  yoke.  A  married  schoolmaster  desiring  to  take 
priest's  orders,  obtained  his  wife's  consent,  and  was  se- 
parated from  her.  The  new  curate  finding  himself 
unable  to  fulfil  his  vow  of  celibacy  quitted  the  place  of 
his  wife's  residence,  from  regard  to  her,  and  settling 
himself  in  the  diocese  of  Constance,  there  formed  a 
criminal  connection.  His  wife  hearing  of  it  went  to 
him.  The  poor  priest  was  melted  at  the  sight  of  her, 
and  dismissing  the  woman  who  had  usurped  her  rights, 
took  home  his  lawful  wife.  Instantly  the  procurator- 
fiscal  made  out  his  report,  the  Vicar-general  was  in 
motion — the  councillors  of  the  consistory  met  in  deli- 
beration, and  ....  enjoined  the  curate  to  renounce  his 
wife,  or  his  benefice  !  The  poor  wife  left  her  hus- 
band's house  in  tears  ;  her  rival  resumed  her  place  in 
triumph.  The  church  was  satisfied,  and  from  that 
moment  left  the  adulterous  priest  undisturbed.* 

Shortly  after  a  curate  of  Lucerne  seduced  a  married 
woman,  and  cohabited  with  her.  The  husband  repair- 
ing to  Lucerne,  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  af- 
forded by  the  priest's  absence  to  recover  his  wife.  As 
he  was  returning,  the  seducer  met  them  in  the  way ; 
he  instantly  fell  upon  the  injured  husband,  and  inflict- 
ed a  wound,  of  which  the  latter  died.f  All  good  men 
saw  the  necessity  of  re-establishing  the  law  of  God, 
which  declares  marriage  "  honourable  to  all."  (Heb. 
xiii.  4.)  The  ministers  of  the  Gospel  had  discovered 
that  the  law  of  celibacy  was  altogether  of  human  au- 
thority, imposed  by  the  Popes,  contrary  to  God's  word, 
which,  in  describing  a  faithful  bishop,  represents  him 
as  a  husband  and  a  father.  (1  Tim.  iii.  2— 4.)  They 
also  saw  that  of  all  the  corruptions  which  had  gained 
a  footing  in  the  church,  not  one  had  led  to  more  pro- 
fligacy and  scandals.  Hence  they  not  only  thought  it 
lawful,  but  even  a  part  of  their  duty  to  God  to  reject 
it.  Several  among  them  at  this  period  returned  to  the 
apostolic  xisage.  Xyloctect  was  already  a  husband. 
Zwingle  also  married  about  this  time.  Among  the 
women  of  Zurich  none  was  more  respected  than  Anna 
Reinhardt,  widow  of  Meyer  von  Knonau,  mother  of 
Gerold.  From  Zwingle's  coming  among  them,  she 
had  been  constant  in  her  attendance  on  his  ministry ; 
she  lived  near  him,  and  he  had  remarked  her  piety, 
modesty,  and  maternal  tenderness.  Young  Gerold, 
who  had  become  almost  like  a  son  to  him,  contributed 
further  to  bring  about  an  intimacy  with  his  mother. 
The  trials  that  had  already  befallen  this  Christian  wo- 
man— whose  fate  it  was  to  be,  one  day,  more  severely 
tried  than  any  woman  whose  history  is  on  record — had 
formed  her  to  a  seriousness  which  gave  prominency  to 
her  Christian  virtues. t  She  was  then  about  thirty-five, 
and  her  whole  fortune  consisted  of  400  florins.  It 
was  on  her  that  Zwingle  fixed  his  eyes  for  a  companion 
for  life.  He  felt  the  sacredness  and  intimate  sympathy 
of  the  marriage  tie ;  and  termed  it  "  a  most  holy  alli- 
ance."^ «•  As  Christ,"  said  he,  "died  for  those  who 
are  His,  and  gave  himself  entirely  for  them,  so  should 
those  who  are  united  together  by  marriage,  do  and 
suffer  all  things  one  for  the  other."  But  Zwingle, 
when  he  took  Anna  Reinhardt  to  wife,  did  not  make 
his  marriage  public.  This  was  beyond  doubt  a  blame- 
able  weakness  in  one  who  was  in  other  things  so  reso- 
lute. The  light  he  and  his  friends  possessed  on  the 

*  Simml.  Saraml.  vi.— Wirz,  K.  Gesch.  i.  275. 

fHinc  cum  scorto  redeuntem  in  itinere  deprehendit,  adgre- 
ditur,  lethiferoque  vulnere  caedit  et  tandem  moritur.  (Zw. 
Epp.  p.  206.) 

J  Anna  Reinhardt,  von  Gevold  Meyer  von  Knonau,  p.  25. 

^  Ein  hochheiliges  Blindness.    (Ibid.  25.) 


MARRIAGE— MEETING  AT  EINSIDLEN— PETITION  TO  THE  BISHOP. 


subject  of  celibacy  was  by  no  means  general.  The 
weak  might  have  been  stumbled.  He  feared  lest  his 
usefulness  in  the  church  might  be  destroyed  by  making 
known  his  marriage,*  and  he  sacrificed  much  of  his 
happiness  to  these  fears,  excusable,  perhaps,  but  such 
as  he  ought  to  have  disregarded. t 

Meanwhile,  interests  of  a  higher  kind  were  engag- 
ing the  thoughts  of  the  friends  of  truth.  The  Diet,  as 
we  have  seen,  urged  on  by  the  enemies  of  the  Refor- 
mation, had  enjoined  the  preachers  of  the  Gospel  to 
abstain  for  the  future  from  preaching  doctrines  that 
disturbed  the  people.  Zwingle  felt  that  the  moment 
for  action  had  arrived,  and  with  characteristic  energy 
he  invited  such  ministers  of  the  Lord  as  were  favour- 
able to  the  Gospel  to  meet  him  at  Einsidlen.  The 
strength  of  Christians  is  neither  in  force  of  arms, 
flames,  scaffold,  party  policy,  or  man's  power.  It  is 
found  in  a  simple  but  unanimous  and  courageous  con- 
fession of  the  truth  which  must  one  day  prevail  over 
the  world.  Those  who  serve  God  are  specially  called 
on  to  hold  up  these  heavenly  truths  in  presence  of  all 
the  people,  unawed  by  the  clamours  of  enemies. 
These  truths  carry  in  themselves  the  assurance  of  their 
triumph,  and  idols  fall  before  them  as  before  the  ark  of 
God.  The  time  had  come  when  God  would  have  the 
great  doctrine  of  salvation  thus  confessed  in  Switzer- 
land ;  it  was  fit  that  the  gospel  standard  should  be  placed 
on  an  elevated  spot.  Providence  was  on  the  point  of 
drawing  forth  from  their  unknown  seclusion  humble  but 
intrepid  men,  and  causing  them  to  give  a  noble  testi- 
mony in  the  face  of  the  whole  nation. 

Toward  the  end  of  June  and  beginning  of  July, 
1522,  pious  ministers  were  seen  from  every  side  jour- 
neying to  the  famous  chapel  of  Einsidlen,  on  a  new 
pilgrimage.  J  From  Art,  in  the  canton  of  Schwitz, 
came  its  curate,  Balthasar  Trachsel  ;  from  Weiningen, 
near  Baden,  the  curate  Staheli ;  from  Zug,  Werner 
Steirier  ;  from  Lucerne,  the  canon  Kilchmeyer ;  from 
Ulster,  the  curate  Pfister  ;  from  Hongg,  near  Zurich, 
the  curate  Stumpff;  from  Zurich  itself,  the  canon, 
Fabricus,  the  chaplain,  Schmid,  the  preacher  of  the 
hospital,  Grosman,  and  Zwingle.  Leo  Juda,  curate 
of  Einsidlen,  joyfully  received  these  ministers  of  Christ 
into  the  ancient  abbey.  Since  Zwingle's  residence, 
the  place  had  become  a  kind  of  citadel  of  truth — a 
refuge  for  the  righteous. $  So  in  the  solitary  field  of 

*  Qui  veritus  sis,  te  marito  non  tarn  feliciter  usurum  Christ- 
um in  negotio  verbi  sui.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  335.) 

f  The  most  respectable  of  biographers,  and  those  who  have 
followed  them,  place  Zwingle's  marriage  two  years  later, 
namely,  in  April,  1524.  Without  intending  here  to  state  all 
the  reasons  which  have  satisfied  me  that  this  is  an  error,  I 
will  notice  the  most  conclusive.  A  letter  from  Zwingle's 
intimate  friend,  Myconius,  bearing  date  22d  July,  1522,  has 
these  words  :  Vali  cum  \txore  quamfelicissime.  Another  letter 
from  the  same  friend,  written  toward  the  end  of  that  year,  has 
likewise  the  words  :  Vale  cum  uxore.  That  the  date  of  these 
letters  is  quite  correct  is  proved  by  the  very  contents  of  them. 
But  what  is  still  stronger,  a  letter  written  from  Strasburg,  by 
Bucer,  at  the  moment  when  Zwingle's  marriage  was  made 
public,  the  14th  of  April,  1524,  (the  date  of  the  year  is  wanting, 
but  it  is  evident  that  this  letter  is  of  that  year,)  contains  sev- 
eral passages  which  show  Zwingle  to  have  been  married  a 
considerable  time  before  ;  the  following  are  some  of  these, 
beside  what  is  cited  in  the  preceding  note.  Professum  palam 
temaritum  legi.  Unum  hoc  desiderabam  in  te.  Quae  multo 
facilius  quam  connubii  tui  confessionem  Antichristus  posset 
i'erre.  AVO//OV,  ab  eo,  quod  cum  fratribus  .  .  .  episcopo  Con- 
•tantienii  congressus  es,  nullus  credidi.  Qua  ratione  id  Icm 
diu  celares  . .  .  non  dubitarim,  rationibus  hue  adductum,  quae 
apud  virum  evangelicum  non  queant  omnino  repudiari  .  .  . 
8co.  (Zw.  Epp,  335.)  Zwingle,  then,  did  not  marry  in  1524, 
but  he  then  made  public  his  marriage  contracted  two  years 
before.  The  learned  editors  of  Zwingle's  letters  4>bserve— 
Num  forte  jam  Zwinglius  Annam  Reinhardam  clandestine  in 
matrimonio  habebat  ?  (p.  210,)  which  appears  to  me  to  be  not 
a  doubtful  point,  but  a  fact  sufficiently  established. 

J  Thaten  sich  zusammea  etliche  priester.     (Bullinger, 
MS.) 
§  Zu  Einsidlen  hatten  sie  alle  Sicherheit  dahin  zu  gehen 


Grutli,  two  hundred  and  fifteen  years  before,  had 
gathered  together  three-and-thirty  patriots,  fearlessly 
determined  to  burst  asunder  the  yoke  of  Austria.  At 
Einsidlen,  the  great  aim  was  to  cast  away  the  yoke  of 
rnan*s  authority  in  the  things  of  God  !  Zwingle  pro- 
posed to  his  friends  to  address  an  urgent  petition  to 
the  cantons  and  the  bishop  :  claiming  a  free  preach- 
ing of  the  Gospel,  and  also  the  abolition  of  compulsory 
celibacy,  the  source  of  so  many  disorders.  All  agreed 

his  suggestion.*  Ulrie  had  himself  prepared  ad- 
dresses. That  to  the  bishop  was  first  read.  It  was 
on  the  2d  of  July,  1522.  All  signed  it.  A  hearty  af 
fection  united  the  preachers  of  the  Gospel.  Many 
others  there  were  who  sympathized  with  those  who 
had  met  at  Einsidlen  ;  such  were  Haller,  Myconius, 
Hedio,  Capito,  CEcolampadius,  Sebastian  Meyer,  Hoff- 
meister,  and  Vanner.  This  brotherly  unity  is  one  of 
the  loveliest  features  of  t-he  Swiss  Reformation.  The 
excellent  men  we  have  mentioned  ever  acted  with.  on& 
heart,  and  their  mutual  affection  lasted  till  death. 

The  men  assembled  at  Einsidlen  saw  plainly  that 
nothing  but  the  energy  of  faith  could  combine  in  one 
work  the  members  of  the  confederation  divided  by 
the  foreign  capitulations.  But  their  views  rose  above 
this.  "  The  heavenly  teaching,"  said  they  to  their 
ecclesiastical  superior,  in  their  address,  dated  2d  July, 

that  truth  which  God  the  Creator  has  made  known 
in  his  Son  to  mankind  immersed  in  sin,  has  long  been 
veiled  from  our  eyes  by  the  ignorance,  not  to  say  the 
evil  intentions  of  a  handful  of  men.  But  Almighty 
God  has  decreed  to  reinstate  it  in  its  primitive  purity. 
Join  then  with  those  who  desire  that  the  great  body 
of  Christians  should  return  to  their  Head,  that  is 
Christ  .  .  .  .  f  For  our  parts  we  are  resolved  to  pro- 
claim his  Gospel  with  unwearied  perseverance,  and 
yet  with  a  prudence  that  shall  leave  no  ground  of  com- 
plaint against  us.J  Favour  this  undertaking  ;  startling 
perhaps,  but  not  rash.  Take  your  stand  like  Moses, 
in  the  way,  at  the  head  of  the  people  getting  up  out 
of  Egypt,  and  by  your  own  hands  overturn  all  obsta- 
cles to  the  triumphant  march  of  truth." 

After  this  spirit-stirring  appeal,  the  ministers  of  the 
Gospel  assembled  at  Einsidlen  came  to  the  subject  of 
celibacy.  Zwingle  had  for  himself  nothing  to  seel: 
on  that  head  : — he  had  as  his  partner  such  a  minister's 
wife  as  Saint  Paul  has  sketched,  "grave, sober,  faith- 
ful in  all  things."  (1  Tim.  iii.  2.)  But  his  thoughts 
were  for  those  of  his  brethren  whose  consciences  were 
not,  as  his  set  free  from  human  ordinances.  He 
longed  for  that  time  when  those  servants  of  God  might 
live  openly  and  without  fear  in  the  circle  of  their  fa- 
milies, "  having  their  children  in  subjection  with  all 
gravity." — "  You  are  not  ignorant,"  said  the  men  of 
Einsidlen,  "  how  deplorably  hitherto  the  laws  of  chas- 
tity have  been  violated  by  the  clergy.  When  in  the 
consecration  of  ministers  to  the  Lord,  the  question  is 
put  to  him  who  speaks  on  behalf  of  the  rest : — Are 
the  persons  you  present  to  us  righteous  men  ? — he 
answers  : — They  are  righteous.  Are  they  well  in- 
structed ? — They  are  well  instructed.  But  when  he 
is  asked  :  are  they  chaste  1  His  answer  is  :  As  fa» 
as  man's  weakness  permits."^ — "  The  New  Testa- 
ment everywhere  condemns  illicit  intercourse,  whilo 

und  dort  zu  wohnen.  (J.  J.  Hottinger  Helv.  K.  Gesch.  iii. 
86.) 

*  Und  wurden  eins  an  den  Bischoff  zu  Constantz  irad 
gmein  Eidtgnossen  ein  Supplication  zu  stcllen.  (Bullinger, 
MSC .) 

f  Et  universa  Christianorum  multitude  ad  capnt  suum, 
quod  Christus  est,  redeat.  Supplicatio  qnorundam  apud 
Helvetios  Evangelistarum,  (Zw.  Opp.iii.  18.) 

f  Evangelium  irremisso  tenorc  promulgare  statimus  .  .  . 
(Zw.  Opp.  iii.  18) 

§  Suntne  casti?  reddidit :  Quatenus  humana  imbecillitas 
permittit,  (Ibid,  i,  111.21.) 


SCENE  IN  A  CONVENT— MYCONIUS  AT  LUCERNE. 


223 


it  everywhere  sanctions  marriage."  Here  follow  a 
great,  number  of  citations  from  Scripture. — "  It  is  for 
this  reason  we  entreat  you,  by  the  love  of  Christ,  by 
ihe  liberty  he  has  obtained  for  us,  by  the  distress  of 
weak  and  unstable  souls,  by  the  wounds  of  so  many 
ukerated  consciences — by  every  motive,  divine  and 
human,  to  consent,  that  what  has  been  enacted  in  pre- 
sumption, may  be  annulled  in  wisdom  ;  lest  the  noble 
fabric  of  the  Church  crumble  into  dust  with  frightful 
crash,  spreading  ruin  far  and  wide.*  Look  around 
you.  Behold  how  many  storms  threaten  society.  If 
prudence  does  not  come  to  our  rescue,  the  fate  of  the 
clergy  is  decided." 

The  petition  addressed  to  the  Confederation  was  at 
greater  length. t  "  Worthy  Sirs  !"  thus  spoke  the 
allies  of  Einsidlen  :  "  We  are  all  Swiss,  and  acknow- 
ledge you  as  our  fathers.  Some  among  us  have  given 
proof  of  our  fidelity  in  the  field  of  battle,  in  pestilence, 
and  other  calamities.  It  is  in  the  name  of  chastity 
that  we  address  you.  Which  of  you  does  not  know 
that  we  should  better  consult  the  lust  of  the  flesh  by 
declining  to  subject  ourselves  to  the  conditions  of  law- 
ful wedlock.  But  it  is  indispensable  to  put  an  end  to 
the  scandals  which  inflict  the  Church  of  Christ.  If 
the  tyranny  of  the  Roman  Pontiff  should  persist  in 
oppressing  us— O  !  noble  heroes,  fear  nothing  !  The 
authority  of  God's  word,  the  rights  of  Christian  liberty, 
and  the  sovereign  power  of  grace,  will  encompass  and 
protect  us.J  We  are  of  one  land  and  of  one  faith  ; 
we  are  Swiss ;  and  the  virtue  of  our  race  has  ever 
displayed  its  power  in  unflinching  defence  of  all  who 
are  unjustly  oppressed." 

Thus  did  Zwingle  and  his  friends  boldly  uplift  the 
standard  of  the  truth  and  freedom  in  Einsidlen  itself, 
that  ancient  bulwark  of  superstition,  which  even  in 
our  days  is  still  one  of  the  most  noted  sanctuaries  of 
Roman  observances.  They  appealed  to  the  chiefs  of 
the  State  and  of  the  Church.  Like  Luther,  they 
publicly  placarded  their  theses — but  it  was  at  the  doors 
of  the  episcopal  palace  and  of  the  council  of  the  nation. 
The  friends  at  Einsidlen  separated  ;  calm,  joyous,  and 
full  of  confidence  in  that  God  to  whom  they  had  com- 
mitted their  cause  ;  and  passing  some  by  the  way  of 
the  field  of  battle  of  Morgarten,  others  over  the  chain 
of  the  Albis,  and  the  rest  by  other  valleys  or  moun- 
tain paths,  they  returned  each  one  to  his  post.  "  Truly 
there  was  something  sublime  for  those  times,"  says 
Henry  Bullinger,*  "  that  these  men  should  have  thus 
dared  to  step  forward,  and  taking  their  stand  around 
the  Gospel  expose  themselves  to  every  kind  of  danger. 
But  God  has  preserved  them  all,  so  that  no  evil  has 
happened  unto  them,  for  God  ever  protects  those  who 
are  his."  And  in  truth  there  was  a  sublimity  in  this 
proceeding.  It  was  a  decisive  step  in  the  progress  of 
the  Reformation,  one  of  the  most  brilliant  days  of  the 
religious  regeneration  of  Switzerland.  A  holy  bond 
was  compacted  at  Einsidlen.  Humble  and  brave  men 
had  taken  *  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  which  is  the  word 
of  God,  and  the  shield  of  faith.'  The  gauntlet  had 
been  thrown  down — and  the  challenge  given,  not  by 
one  man  only — but  by  men  of  different  cantons — pre- 
pared to  peril  their  lives  on  the  issue. 

The  battle  was  evidently  approaching.  Everything 
betokened  that  it  would  be  vigorously  contested.  As 

*  Ne  quando  moles  ista  non  ex  patris  ccelestis  sententia  con- 
structa,  cum  fragore  longe  perniciosiore  corruat.  (Zw.  Opp. 
iii.  24.) 

t  Arnica  et  pia  paranesis  ad  communem  Helvetiorem  civi 
tatem  scripta  ne  evangelicae  doctrinae  cursum  impediant,  &c. 
(Ibid.  i.  39.) 

\  Divini  enim  verbi  auctoritatem,  libertatis  Christianas  et 
diviute  gratia  presidium  nobis  audesse  conspicietis.  (Ibid. 
63.) 

Es  wass  zwahren  gros»  zu  denen  Zyten  .  .  ,  (Bullinger, 


early  as  the  7th  of  July,  the  magistrate  of  Zurich,  wil- 
ling to  do  the  Romanists  a  pleasure,  summoned  before 
him  Conrad  Grebel,  and  Claus  Hottinger,  two  intem- 
perate men,  who  seemed  desirous  to  overpass  the 
limit  of  a  prudent  reformation.  "  We  prohibit  you," 
said  the  burgomaster,  Roust,  "  from  speaking  against 
the  monks,  or  on  the  points  in  controversy."  At  that 
moment  a  loud  clap  was  heard  in  the  room,  says  an  old 
chronicle.  The  work  of  God  was  so  manifest  in  events, 
that  men  saw  in  everything,  the  sign  of  His  interven- 
tion. Every  one,  in  astonishment,  looked  round  the 
apartment,  without  being  able  to  discover  the  cause  of 
the  mysterious  sound.* 

But  it  was  in  the  convents  that  indignation  was  at 
its  height.  Every  meeting  held  therein,  for  discussion 
or  amusement,  witnessed  some  new  attack.  One  day, 
on  occasion  of  a  grand  festivity,  in  the  convent  of 
Fraubrunn,  the  wine  mounting  to  the  heads  of  the 
guests,  they  began  to  break  out  in  bitter  speeches 
against  the  Gospel,  t  That  which  chiefly  irritated  these 
friars  and  priests  was,  the  evangelical  doctrine  that,  in 
the  Christian  church,  there  can  properly  be  no  priestly 
caste,  raised  above  other  believers.  Among  the  guests, 
there  was  but  one  who  was  a  favourer  of  the  Reform- 
ation, and  he  was  a  layman,  named  Macrin,  schoolmas- 
ter of  Soleure.  At  first,  he  took  no  part  in  the  dis- 
course, but  changed  his  seat  from  one  table  to  another. 
At  length,  unable  to  endure  the  shouts  of  the  guests, 
he  arose,  and  said  aloud  :  "  Well,  all  true  Christians 
are  priests  and  sacrifices,  according  to  that  word  of 
St.  Peter:  (i  Pet.  ii.  9;  Rev.  i.  6.)— ye  are  kings 
and  priests."  At  this  speech,  the  Dean  of  Burgdortf, 
one  of  the  loudest  in  the  company,  a  huge  man,  of 
powerful  lungs  and  sonorous  voice,  burst  into  a  loud 
laugh,  and,  mingling  jest  with  insult:  "So  then," 
said  he,  "you  Greeklings  and  accidence-mongers  are 
the  royal  priesthood  ?  .  .  .  Noble  sacrificers  \\  beggar 
kings  !  .  .  .  priests  without  prebends  or  livings  !" 
All,  with  one  acccord,  turned  against  the  presumptu- 
ous layman. 

It  was,  however,  at  Lucerne,  that  the  bold  measure 
of  the  men  of  Einsidlen  was  to  produce  the  greatest 
sensation.  The  Diet  had  met  in  that  town,  and  from 
all  sides  came  complaints  against  the  over-zealous 
preachers  who  obstructed  the  regular  sale  of  Swiss 
blood  to  foreign  nations.  On  the  22d  of  July,  1522, 
as  Oswald  Myconius  sat  at  dinner  in  his  house,  in 
company  with  the  canon,  Kilchmeyer,  and  several  fa- 
vourers of  the  Gospel,  a  young  lad,  sent  by  Zwingle, 
came  to  the  door.§  He  was  the  bearer  of  the  two  fa- 
mous petitions  of  Einsidlen,  together  with  a  letter 
from  Zwingle,  in  which  he  desired  Oswald  to  circu- 
late them  in  Lucerne.  "  My  advice  is,"  added  the  Re- 
former, "  that  it  should  be  done  quietly  and  gradually, 
rather  than  all  at  once,  for  we  need  to  learn  to  give 
up  everything,  even  our  wives,  for  Christ's  sake." 

The  critical  moment  for  Lucerne  was  approaching ; 
the  bomb  had  fallen  ;  the  shell  was  about  to  burst. 
The  friends  read  the  petitions,  l<  May  God  bless  this 
beginning  !"||  exclaimed  Oswald,  raising  his  eyes  to 
heaven.  He  then  added  :  "  This  prayer  should,  from 
this  moment,  be  the  constant  burthen  of  our  hearts." 
The  petitions  were  forthwith  circulated,  perhaps  more 
actively  than  Zwingle  desired.  But  the  moment  was 
without  example.  Eleven  men,  the  elite  of  the  clergy, 

*  Da  liess  die  Stube  einen  grossen  Knall.  (Fusslin  Bey  tr. 
iv.  39.) 

fCum  invalescente  Baccho,  disputationes,  imo  verius  jur. 
gia.  (Zw.  Epp.  230.) 

J  Estote  ergo  Graeculi  ac  Donatistae,  regale  sacerdotium 
.  .  .  (Zw.  Epp.  230.)  Donatistae,  from  Donatus,  the  author  of 
the  Latin  grammar  then  in  use  in  the  schools. 

§  Venit  puer,  quern  misisti,  inter  prandendum  .  .  .  (Ibid. 

0  Deus  coepta  lortunet !    (Zw.  Epp.  p.  209.) 


224 


THE  COUNCIL  AND  DIET— FRIBURG— TREATMENT  OF  OSWALD. 


had  placed  themselves  in  the  breach ;  it  was  requisite 
to  enlighten  men's  minds,  to  decide  the  wavering,  and 
carry  with  them  the  co-operation  of  the  most  influen- 
tial members  of  the  Diet. 

Oswald,  in  the  midst  of  his  exertions,  did  not  forget 
his  friend.  The  young  messenger  had  told  of  the  at- 
tacks that  Zwingle  had  to  endure  from  the  monks  of 
Zurich  "  The  words  of  the  Holy  Ghost  are  invinci- 
ble," wrote  Myconius,  in  reply,  the  same  day.  "  Armed 
with  the  shield  of  the  holy  Scriptures,  you  have  over- 
come, not  in  one  conflict  only,  or  in  two,  but  in  three, 
and  now  a  fourth  is  commencing.  Hold  fast  those 
mighty  weapons,  whose  edge  is  harder  than  a  diamond. 
Christ  needs,  for  the  defence  of  those  who  are  his,  no- 
thing but  his  Word.  Your  conflicts  commmunicate  un- 
conquerable courage  to  all  who  have  devoted  them- 
selves to  Jesus  Christ."* 

The  two  petitions  did  not  produce  the  effect  ex- 
pected from  them  in  Lucerne.  Some  men  of  piety  ap- 
proved them,  but  they  were  few  in  number.  Many, 
fearing  to  compromise  themselves,  would  neither  com- 
mend nor  blame  them.f  Others  said,  "  These  people 
will  make  nothing  of  it."  The  priests  murmured  against 
them,  and  the  populace  broke  forth,  in  open  hostility. 
The  passion  for  military  adventure  had  again  shown 
itself  in  Lucerne,  after  the  bloody  defeat  of  Bicocca, 
and  nothing  but  war  was  thought  off  Oswald,  who 
attentively  watched  these  varying  impressions,  felt  his 
resolution  fail.  The  reign  of  Gospel  light,  in  Lucerne 
and  Switzerland,  which  his  hopes  had  dwelt  upon  with 
joy,  seemed  to  vanish.  "Our  countrymen  are  blind, 
as  to  heavenly  things,"  said  he,  fetching  a  deep  sigh, 
"  there  is  nothing  to  be  hoped  from  the  Swiss,  for  the 
glory  of  Christ."^ 

In  the  council  and  at  the  Diet,  exasperation  was  at 
its  height.  The  pope,  France,  England,  the  empire, 
•were  all  in  motion  round  Switzerland,  since  the  defeat 
of  Bicocca,  and  the  retreat  of  the  French,  under  com- 
mand of  Lautrec,  from  Lombardy.  Was  it  because 
the  political  interests  of  the  moment  were  not  suffici- 
ently complicated,  that  these  eleven  men  must  bring 
forward  their  petitions,  thereby  adding  controversies  of 
religion  ?  The  deputies  of  Zurich  alone  inclined  to 
favour  the  Gospel.  The  canon,  Xyloctect,  trembling 
for  the  safety  of  himself  and  his  wife — for  he  had  mar- 
ried into  one  of  the  chief  families  of  the  neighbourhood 
— had,  with  tears,  declined  the  invitation  to  Einsidlen, 
to  sign  the  address.  The  canon,  Kilchmeyer,  had 
evinced  more  courage,  and,  ere  long,  he  had  need  of 
it.  "  Sentence  is  impending  over  me,"  he  wrote,  on 
the  13th  of  August,  to  Zwingle.  "  I  await  it  with 
firmness  .  ."  As  he  was  writing,  the  officer  of  the 
council  entered  his  apartment,  and  delivered  him  a 
summons  to  appear  on  the  following  morning.  I!  "  If 
I  am  cast  into  prison,"  said  he,  continuing  his  letter, 
"  I  claim  your  help  ;  but  it  will  be  easier  to  transport 
a  rock  from  our  Alps,  than  to  move  me  as  much  as  a 
hand's-breadth  from  the  word  of  Jesus  Christ."  Re- 
gard to  his  family,  and  the  resolution  that  had  been 
come  to,  that  the  storm  should  be  directed  against  Os- 
wald, saved  the  canon. 

Berthold  Haller  had  not  signed  the  petitions,  per- 
haps because  he  was  not  a  Swiss  by  birth.  But,  with- 
out flinching,  he,  as  Zwingle  had  done,  expounded  the 
Gospel  of  St.  Matthew.  A  great  crowd  thronged 
the  cathedral  church  of  Berne.  The  word  of  God 

«  Is  permaneas,  qui  es,  in  Christo  Jesu  .  .  .  (Ibid.  210.) 

f  Boni  qui  pauci  sunt,  commendant  libellos  vestros ;  alii 

non  laudant  nee  vituperant.    (Ibid.) 
i  Belli  furor  occupat  omnia.    (Zw.  Epp.  p.  210.) 
^  Nihil  ob  id  apud  Helvetica  agendum  de  iis  rebus  qusc 

Christi  gloriam  possunt  augere.    (Ibid.) 
||  Tu  vero  audi.    Hrec  dum  scriberem,  irruit  praeco,  a  Sena- 

toribus  missus  .  .  .  (Ibid.  213.) 


wrought  more  mightily  than  Manuel's  dramas  had 
done  on  the  peoplo.  Haller  was  summoned  to  the 
townhall ;  the  people  escorted  him  thither,  and  continued 
collected  in  the  great  square.  Opinions  were  divided  in 
the  council  "  It  is  a  matter  that  concerns  the  bi- 
shops," said  the  most  influential  persons  ;  "  we  must 
hand  over  the  preacher  to  my  Lord  Bishop  of  Lau- 
sanne." Haller's  friends  were  alarmed  a-t  these  words, 
arid  sent  him  word  to  retire  with  all  possible  despatch. 
The  people  gathered  round,  and  bore  him  company  ; 
and  a  considerable  number  of  burghers  remained  in 
arms,  in  front  of  his  dwelling,  ready  to  form  a  rampart 
for  their  humble  pastor,  with  their  bodies.  The  bishop 
and  council  drew  back,  at  the  aspect  of  this  bold  de- 
monstration, and  Haller  was  saved.  But  he  was  not 
the  only  champion  of  truth  at  Berne.  Sebastian  Meyer 
refuted  the  Bishop  of  Constance's  pastoral  letter,  and 
more  especially  the  charge  that  the  disciples  of  the 
Gospel  taught  a  new  doctrine,  and  that  the  ancient 
only  is  the  true.  "  To  have  gone  wrong  for  a  thou- 
sand years,"  said  he,  "  cannot  make  us  right  for  a  sin- 
gle hour  ;  otherwise,  it  would  have  been  the  duty  of 
the  heathen  to  continue  in  their  religion.  And  if  the 
most  ancient  doctrines  are  to  be  preferred,  then,  fifte-en 
hundred  years  are  more  than  five  centuries — and  the 
Gospel  is  more  ancient  than  the  decrees  of  the  popes."* 

At  this  time,  the  magistrates  of  Friburg  intercepted 
certain  letters,  addressed  to  Haller  and  Meyer,  by  a 
canon  of  Fribnrg,  named  John  Hollard,  a  native  of 
Orbe.  They  proceeded  to  throw  him  into  prison  ; 
stripped  him  of  his  appointment ;  and  finally  banished 
him.  One  John  Vannius,  a  chorister  of  the  cathedral, 
shortly  after  declared  himself  in  favour  of  the  Gospel; 
for,  in  this  war,  as  soon  as  one  soldier  falls,  another 
steps  forward  to  occupy  his  place  in  the  ranks.  "  How 
is  it  possible,"  asked  Vannius,  "  that  the  muddy  water 
of  the  Tiber,  should  flow  side  by  side  with  the  pure 
stream  that  Luther  has  drawn  from  St.  Paul's  source  ?" 
But  the  chorister,  also,  had  his  mouth  shut.  "  Among 
all ,  the  Swiss,"  said  Myconius,  writing1  to  Zwingle, 
there  are  hardly  any  more  averse  from  sound  doctrine 
than  the  people  of  Friburg. "f 

There  was,  nevertheless,  one  exception,  namely, 
Lucerne,  and  Myconius  experienced  this.  He  had  not 
signed  the  celebrated  petitions  ;  but  if  not  he,  his  friends 
did  so,  and  a  victim  was  required.  The  ancient  liter- 
ature of  Greece  and  Rome,  thanks  to  his  efforts,  waa 
beginning  to  shine  upon  Lucerne.  From  various  quar- 
ters, people  resorted  thither,  to  hear  the  learned  pro- 
fessor ;  and  the  peacefully-disposed  listened  with  de- 
light, to  softer  sounds  than  those  of  halberds,  swords, 
and  cuirasses,  which,  previous  to  this  time,  had  been 
the  only  sounds  in  that  warlike  city  Oswald  had  sa- 
crificed everything  for  his  country ,  he  had  quitted 
Zurich  and  Zwingle  ;  he  had  injured  his  health  ;  his 
wife  was  infirm,*  and  his  son  of  tender  years — 
if  Lucerne  should  reject  him,  nowhere  could  he  hope 
for  an  asylum  !  But  these  considerations  had  no  power 
over  the  merciless  spirit  of  party,  and  the  things  that 
should  have  moved  them  to  compassion,  inflamed  their 
anger.  Hurtenstein,  burgomaster  of  Lucerne,  an  old 
and  brave  soldier,  who  had  acquired  distinction  in  the 
wars  of  Suabia  and  Burgundy,  urged  the  council  to 
dismiss  the  schoolmaster  from  his  post — and  wished, 
together  with  the  master,  to  expel  his  Greek  and  Latin, 
and  his  preaching,  from  the  canton.  He  succeeded. 
On  leaving  the  council,  in  which  it  had  been  decided 
to  dismiss  Myconius,  Hurtenstein  encountered  Ber- 
guer,  the  Deputy  of  Zurich  :  "  We  send  you  back 
your  schoolmaster,"  said  he,  ironically  ;  "  get  ready  a 

*  Simml.  Samml.  vi. 

t  Hoc  audia  vix  alios  esse  per  Helvetian! ,  qui  pejus  velint 
sadae  doctrinae.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  226.) 

\  Conjux  infirma.    (Ibid.  192.) 


OSWALD  ENCOURAGED— QUITS  LUCERNE— ZWINGLE'S  FAMILY. 


225 


comfortable  lodging  for  him."  "  We  will  not  let  him  lie 
in  the  streets,"*  instantly  replied  the  courageous  deputy. 
But  Berguer  promised  more  than  he  could  perform. 

The  words  dropped  by  the  burgomaster  were  too 
true,  and  they  were  soon  confirmed  to  the  distressed 
Myconius.  He  is  deprived  of  his  occupation — banish- 
ed : — and  the  only  crime  laid  to  his  charge  is  that  he 
is  a  disciple  of  Luther. t  He  turns  his  eyes  on  the 
right  hand  and  on  the  left,  and  nowhere  does  he  dis- 
cern shelter.  He  beholds  himself,  and  his  wife  and  child 
— weak  and  ailing — driven  from  their  home — and  all 
around  him,  his  country  rocked  by  a  violent  tempest 
that  is  rendering  and  destroying  whatever  ventures  to 
stand  against  it — "  Here,"  said  he  to  Zwingle,  "  is 
your  poor  Myconius  discharged  by  the  Council  of  Lu- 
cerne t  Where  shall  I  go  1  ...  I  knovv  not  .  .  .  . 
Assailed  as  you  yourself  are,  how  can  you  shelter  me  ? 
....  I  look,  therefore,  in  my  tribulation  to  God,  as 
my  only  hope.  Ever  abounding,  ever  merciful,  he 
suffers  none  who  make  their  prayer  to  Him  to  go  empty 
away. — May  he  supply  my  wants  !" 

So  spake  Oswald. — He  waited  not  long  before  a 
word  of  consolation  came  to  him.  There  was  one  man 
in  Switzerland  who  had  been  schooled  in  trials  of  faith. 
Zwingle  hastened  to  raise  and  cheer  his  friend.  "  So 
rude  are  the  blows  by  which  the  enemy  would  level 
God's  house,''  said  Zwingle,  "  and  so  repeated  the 
assaults,  that  it  is  no  longer  the  rains  descending,  and 
the  wind  blowing,  according  to  the  Lord's  prediction, 
(Matt.  vii.  27.)  but  hail  and  thunder  storm. §  If  I  did 
not  discern  the  Lord  keeping  the  vessel,  I  should  long 
since  have  let  go  the  helm  ; — but  I  see  him  in  the  height 
of  the  tempest,  strengthening  the  cordage,  shifting  the 
yards,  speading  the  sails,  nay,  more,  commanding  the 
very  winds.  Would  it  not  then  be  the  action  of  a  faint 
heart,  and  unworthy  of  a  man,  were  I  to  abandon  my 
post  and  seek  in  flight  a  death  of  shame  1  I  commit 
myself  entirely  to  his  sovereign  goodness.  Let  him 
govern  all — let  him  remove  impediments — let  him  ap- 
pear or  delay,  hasten  or  stay — rend,  swallow  up,  or 
plunge  us  to  the  bottom  of  the  deep  ;  we  will  not 
fear.li  We  are  vessels  that  belong  to  Him.  He  can 
make  us  to  honour  or  to  dishonour,  according  to  his 
pleasure!"  After  these  breathings  of  lively  faith, 
Zwingle  continued :— "  My  advice  to  you  is  to  present 
yourself  before  the  Council,  and  there  pronounce  a 
speech  worthy  of  Christ,  and  of  yourself — that  is  to 
say,  suited  to  melt  and  not  to  irritate  the  hearers. 
Deny  that  you  are  a  Lutheran,  but  profess  yourself  a 
disciple  of  Jesus  Christ.  Let  your  pupils  accompany 
you,  and  speak  for  you  : — and  if  this  does  not  prevail, 
come  to  your  friend,  come  to  Zwingle,  and  look  upon 
our  city  as  your  own  hearth." 

Oswald,  emboldened  by  these  words,  followed  the 
noble  counsel,  of  the  Reformer ;  but  all  his  efforts 
were  fruitless.  The  witness  for  truth  was  doomed  to 
quit  his  country,  and  they  of  Lucerne  were  so  active 
in  decrying  him,  that  everywhere  the  magistrates  op- 
posed the  offering  him  an  asylum  :  "  Nothing  remains 
for  me,"  said  the  confessor  of  Jesus  Christ,  heart-bro- 
ken at  the  aspect  of  so  much  enmity,  "  but  to  beg  the 
support  of  my  miserable  existence  from  door  to  door."1T 
The  day  soon  arrived  when  the  friend  of  Zwingle,  and 
his  most  effective  fellow-labourer,  the  first  among  the 

*  Venial !  efficiemus  enim  ne  dormiendum  sit  ei  sub  dio 
(Ibid.  216.)  , 

|  Nil  exprobarunt  nisi  quod  sim  Lutheranus.  (Z\v.  Epp. 
p.  216.) 

t  Ex'X'llitur  ecce  miser  Myconius  a  Senatu  Lucernano. 
(Ibid.  :'15.) 

§  Nt-c  ventos  esse,  nee  imbres,  sed  grandines  et  fulmina. 
(Ibid.  217.) 

||  Recent,  vehat,  festinet,  maneat.  acceleret,  moretur,  mergat. 
(Zw.  Ej>p.  p.  217.) 

U  Qsteatim  quserere  quod  edam.    (Ibid.  245.) 


Swiss  who  united  the  office  of  instructor  in  learning 
with  the  love  of  the  Gospel,  the  Reformer  of  Lucerne, 
and  afterwards  one  of  the  chiefs  of  the  Helvetic  church, 
was  compelled,  with  his  feeble  partner,  and  infant  child, 
to  leave  that  ungrateful  city  where,  out  of  all  his  family, 
only  one  of  his  sisters  had  received  the  love  of  the 
Gospel.  He  passed  its  ancient  bridge.  He  caught 
sight  of  those  mountains  which  seemed  to  rise  from  the 
bosom  of  lake  Waldstetten  to  the  clouds.  The  canons, 
Xyloctect  and  Kilchmeyer,  the  only  friends  the  Refor- 
mation could  as  yet  number  among  his  countrymen, 
followed  close  behind  him.  And  in  the  moment  when 
this  poor  man,  in  company  with  the  helpless  sufferers 
dependant  upon  him  for  support,  turned  towards  the 
lake,  and,  shedding  tears  for  his  infatuated  country,  bado 
adieu  to  the  sublime  natural  grandeur  of  his  birth-place 
— the  Gospel  itself  departed  from  Lucerne,  and  there 
Rome  reigns  unto  this  day. 

The  Diet  itself,  then  sitting  at  Baden,  stimulated  by 
the  severity  resorted  to  against  Myconius — irritated  by 
the  petitions  from  Einsidlen,  which,  being  printed  and 
circulated,  produced  everywhere  a  strong  sensation — 
and  persuaded  by  the  bishop  of  Constance,  who  urged, 
them  to  strike  a  final  blow  at  their  innovators,  had 
recourse  to  persecution,  enjoined  the  authorities  of  the 
baillages  to  "  give  information  against  all,  whether 
priests  or  laymen,  who  should  impugn  the  established 
faith,"  and  in  blind  haste  proceeded  to  arrest  the 
preacher  who  happened  to  be  nearest,  namely,  Urban 
Weiss,  pastor  of  Fislispach  (who  had  before  this  been 
released  on  bail)  and  sent  him  to  Constance,  to  the 
Bishop,  who  kept  him  a  long  while  in  confinement. 
"  In  this  manner,"  says  Bullinger's  Chronicle,  "  began 
the  confederate  states'  persecution  of  the  Gospel,  and 
all  this  happened  at  the  instigation  of  the  clergy,  who 
in  all  ages  have  dragged  Jesus  Christ  before  the  judg- 
ment seats  of  Herod  and  Pilate."* 

Zwingle  was  not  destined  to  escape  trial — and  he 
was  at  this  time  wounded  in  the  tenderest  point.  A 
rumour  of  his  doctrine  and  his  struggles  had  passed  the 
Santis,  penetrated  the  Tockenburg,  and  reached  the 
height  of  Wildhaus.  'The  family  of  herdsmen  from 
which  he  sprang,  were  deeply  moved  by  what  they 
heard.  Of  Zwingle's  five  brothers  some  had  not  ceased 
to  follow  their  mountain  occupations  ;  while  others,  to 
the  great  grief  of  their  brother,  had  at  times  taken  up 
arms,  left  their  flocks,  and  served  foreign  princes.  All 
were  in  consternation  at  the  reports  brought  to  their 
chalets.  In  imagination  they  beheld  their  brother  seized, 
dragged  before  his  bishop  at  Constance,  and  a  pile  of 
faggots  lighted  for  his  destruction,  on  the  spot  where 
John  Huss  had  perished.  The  high-spirited  shepherds 
could  ill  brook  the  thought  of  being  called  the  brothers 
of  a  heretic.  They  wrote  to  Ulric,  communicating 
their  distress  and  alarm  :  Zwingle  answered  them. 
"  As  long  as  God  shall  enable  me,  I  will  perform  the 
task  that  he  has  assigned  me,  without  fearing  the  world 
and  its  proud  tyrants.  I  know  all  that  may  befall  me. 
There  is  no  danger,  no  evil,  that  I  have  not  long  and 
carefully  considered.  My  strength  is  weakness  itself, 
and  I  know  the  power  of  my  enemies ;  but  I  likewise 
know  that  I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ,  that 
strengthened  me.  Were  I  to  hold  my  peace,  another 
would  be  raised  up  and  constrained  to  do  what  God  is 
doing  by  my  means — while  I  should  be  judged  by  God  ! 
0,  my  dear  brethren,  banish  far  from  your  thoughts  all 
these  apprehensions.  If  I  have  a  fear  it  is  that  I  have 
been  more  gentle  and  tractable  than  suits  the  times  we 
live  in.f  '  What  shame,'  say  you,  '  will  fall  upon  all 

*  Uss  anstifften  der  geistliche.n,  Die  zu  alien  Zyten,  Cris- 
tum  Pilate  und  Herodi  vurstellen.  (MSC.) 

t  Plus  enim  metuo  ne  forte  lenior  mitiorque  fuenm.  (De 
semper  casta  Virgine  Maria,  Zw.  Opp.  i.  104.) 


226 


ZWINGLE'S  RESOLUTION— HIS  PRAYER. 


our  family,  if  you  are  burnt,  or  in  any  other  way  put  to 
death?'*  O,  my  beloved  brethren,  the  Gospel  derives 
from  the  blood  of  Christ  this  wondrous  property,  that 
the  fiercest  persecutions,  far  from  arresting  its  progress, 
do  but  hasten  its  triumph !  They  alone  are  faithful 
soldiers  of  Christ  who  are  not  afraid  to  bear  in  their 
own  bodies  the  wounds  of  their  Master.  All  my  efforts 
have  no  other  end  than  to  make  known  to  men  the 
treasures  of  blessedness  that  Christ  has  purchased  for 
us  ;  that  all  men  may  turn  to  the  Father,  through  the 
death  of  his  Son.  If  this  doctrine  should  offend  you, 
your  anger  cannot  stop  my  testimony.  You  are  my 
brothers,  yes,  my  own  brothers,  sons  of  my  father,  who 
have  hung  on  the  same  breasts  .  .  .  but  if  you  were 
not  my  brethren  in  Christ,  and  in  the  work  of  faith, 
then  would  my  grief  be  so  overpowering  that  nothing 
would  exceed  it.  Farewell.  I  will  never  cease  to  be 
your  attached  brother,  if  you  will  not  cease  to  be  the 
brethren  of  Jesus  Christ."t 

The  confederated  Swiss  seemed  to  rise  as  one  man 
against  the  Gospel.  The  petitions  from  Einsidlen  had 
been  the  signal  of  that  movement.  Zwingle,  affected 
at  the  fate  of  his  beloved  Myconius,  saw,  in  his  misfor- 
tunes, but  the  beginning  of  sorrows.  Enemies  within 
and  without  the  city — a  man's  foes,  '  those  of  his  own 
house,'  furious  opposition  from  monks  and  priests — 
strong  measures  of  repression  by  the  Diet,  and  Coun- 
cils— riotous,  perhaps  murderous  assaults,  from  parti- 
sans of  the  foreign  service — the  upper  valleys  of  Swit- 

*  Si  vel  ignis  vel  alio  quodam  supplicii  genere  tollaris  e 
medio.  (Ibid.) 

t  Frater  vester  germanus  nunquam,  desinam,  si  modo  vos 
fratres  Christi  esse  perrereritis.  (Zw.  Opp.  i.  107.) 


zerland,  the  cradle  of  the  Confederation,  pouring  forth 
phalanxes  of  invincible  soldiers,  to  reinstate  Rome,  and 
quench  the  nascent  revival  of  faith  at  the  risk  of  their 
lives  !  Such  was  the  prospect  the  prophetic  mind  of 
the  Reformer  beheld  with  trembling.  And  what  a 
prospect !  was  indeed  this  revival  to  be  crushed  in  its 
very  beginning  1  Then  it  was  that  Zwingle,  anxious 
and  troubled  in  mind,  spread  before  his  God  the  deep 
anguish  of  his  soul.  "  U  Jesus,"  he  exclaimed,  "  thou 
seest  how  the  wicked  and  the  blasphemer  stun  thy 
people's  ears  with  their  clamours.*  Thou  knowest 
how  from  my  youth  up  I  have  abhorred  controversy, 
and  yet,  against  my  will,  thou  hast  never  ceased  to 
impel  me  to  the  conflict.  Therefore,  do  I  call  upon 
Thee  with  confidence  to  finish  what  thou  hast  begun  ! 
If  in  anything  I  have  builded  unwisely,  let  thy  hand  of 
power  cast  it  down,  If  I  have  laid  any  other  founda- 
tion beside  Thee,  let  thy  mighty  arm  overturn  it.f  O 
thou  vine  full  of  all  sweetness  to  whom  the  Father  is 
the  husbandman — and  we  are  branches,  abandon  not 
thy  suckers. +  Hast  thou  not  promised  to  be  with  us 
unto  the  end  of  the  world  1" 

It  was  on  the  22d  of  August,  1522,  that  Ulric  Zwin- 
gle, the  Swiss  Reformer,  beholding  the  thunder-cloud 
descending  from  the  mountains  on  the  frail  bark  of  the 
Faith,  thus  poured  forth  to  God  the  troubles  and  desires 
of  his  soul. 

*  Vides  enim,  piissime  Jesu,  aures  corum  septas  esse  nequ- 
issimis  susurronibus.  sycophantis,  lucrionibus  . .  .  (Ibid.  iii. 
74.) 

t  Si  fundamentum  aliud  prater  te  jecero.  demoliaris  !  (Ibid. 
74.) 

\  O  suavissima  vitis,  cujus  vinitor  Pater,  palmites  vere  nos 
sumus  ;  sationem  tuam  ne  deseras. 


BOOK  IX. 


IT  was  now  four  years  since  the  Church  had  heard 
again  proclaimed  a  truth  which  had  formeed  part  of 
her  earliest  teaching.  The  mighty  word  of  a  salva- 
tion by  Grace,  once  '  fully  preached'  throughout  Asia, 
Greece,  and  Italy,  by  Paul  and  his  companions,  and 
discovered  many  ages  after,  in  the  pages  of  the  Bible, 
by  a  monk  of  Wittemberg,  had  resounded  from  the 
plains  of  Saxony,  as  far  as  Italy,  France,  and  England  ; 
and  the  lofty  mountains  of  Switzerland  had  echoed  its 
inspiring  accents.  The  springs  of  truth,  liberty,  and 
life  were  again  opened  :  multitudes  had  drunk  gladly 
of  the  waters  ;  but  those  who  had  freely  partaken  of 
them  had  retained  the  same  external  appearance,  and 
while  all  within  was  new,  every  thing  without  remain- 
ed unchanged. 

The  constitution  of  the  Church,  its  ritual,  and  its 
discipline  had  undergone  no  alteratiou.  In  Saxony, 
even  at  Wittemberg,  and  wherever  the  new  opinions 
had  spread,  the  papal  ceremonies  held  on  their  accus- 
tomed course  ;  the  priest  before  the  altar  offering  the 
host  to  God  was  believed  to  effect  a  mysterious  tran- 
substantiation  ;  friars  and  nuns  continued  to  present 
themselves  at  the  convents  to  take  upon  them  the 
monastic  vows  ;  pastors  lived  single  ;  religious  bro- 
therhoods herded  together ;  pilgrimages  were  underta- 
ken ;  the  faithful  suspended  their  motive  offerings  on 
the  pillars  of  the  chapels  ;  and  all  the  accustomed 
ceremonies,  down  to  the  minutest  observances,  were 
celebrated  as  before.  A  voice  had  been  heard  in  the 


world,  but  as  yet  it  was  not  embodied  forth  in  action. 
The  language  of  the  priest  accordingly  presented  the 
most  striking  contrast  with  his  ministrations.  From 
his  pulpit  he  might  be  heard  to  thunder  against  the 
mass  as  idolatrous,  and  then  he  might  be  seen  to  come 
down  to  the  altar,  and  go  scrupulously  through  the 
prescribed  form  of  the  service.  On  every  side,  the 
recently  recovered  Gospel  sounded  in  the  midst  of  the 
ancient  rites.  The  officiating  priest  himself  was  un- 
conscious of  his  inconsistency,  and  the  populace,  who 
listened  with  avidity  to  the  bold  discourses  of  the  new 
preachers,  continued  devoutly  observant  of  their  long- 
established  customs,  as  though  they  never  were  to 
abandon  them.  All  things  continued  unchanged  at  the 
domestic  hearth,  and  in  the  social  circle,  as  in  the 
house  of  God.  A  new  faith  was  abroad,  but  new 
works  were  not  yet  seen.  The  vernal  sun  had  risen,  but 
winter  still  bound  the  earth  ;  neither  flower,  nor  leaf, 
nor  any  sign  of  vegetation  was  visible.  But  this  aspect 
of  things  was  deceptive  :  a  vigorous  sap  was  secretly 
circulating  beneath  the  surface,  and  was  about  to 
change  the  face  of  the  world. 

To  this  wisely-ordered  progress,  the  Reformation 
may  be  indebted  for  its  triumphs.  Every  revolution 
should  be  wrought  out  in  men's  minds  before  it  takes 
the  shape  of  action.  The  contrast  we  have  remarked 
did  not  at  first  fix  Luther's  attention.  He  seemed  to 
expect  that  while  men  received  his  writings  with  en- 
thusiasm, they  should  continue  devout  observers  of  the 


ASPECT  OF  THE  CHURCH— WISDOM  OF  GOD— AGITATION  OF  THE  PEOPLE.       227 


corruptions  those  writings  exposed.  One  might  be 
tempted  to  believe  that  he  had  planned  his  course  be- 
forehand, and  was  resolved  to  change  the  opinions  of 
men  before  he  ventured  to  remodel  their  forms  of 
worship.  But  this  would  be  ascribing  to  Luther  a 
wisdom,  the  honour  of  which  is  due  to  a  higher  Intel- 
ligence. He  was  the  appointed  instrument  for  a  pur- 
pose he  had  no  power  to  conceive.  At  a  later  period 
he  could  discern  and  comprehend  these  things,  but  he 
did  not  devise  or  arrange  them.  God  led  the  way  : 
the  part  assigned  to  Luther  was  to  follow. 

If  Luther  had  begun  by  external  reformation — if 
he  had  followed  up  his  words  by  an  attempt  to  abo- 
lish monastic  vows,  the  mass,  confession,  the  pre- 
scribed form  of  worship — assuredly  he  would  have 
encountered  the  most  formidable  resistance.  Man- 
kind need  time  to  accommodate  themselves  to  great 
changes.  Bu-t  Luther  was  not  the  imprudent  and 
daring  innovator  that  some  historians*  have  depict- 
ed. The  people,  seeing  no  change  in  their  daily 
devotions,  followed  undoubtingly  their  new  leader, 
wondering  at  the  assaults  directed  against  a  man  who 
left  unquestioned  their  mass,  their  beads,  and  their 
confessor ;  and  disposed  to  ascribe  such  enmity  to  the 
petty  jealousy  of  secret  rivals,  or  to  the  hard  injustice 
of  powerful  enemies.  And  yet  the  opinions  that  Lu- 
ther put  forth,  fermented  in  the  minds  of  men,  mould- 
ed their  thoughts,  and  so  undermined  the  strong  hold 
of  prejudice,  that  it  ere  long  fell  without  being  attack- 
ed. Such  influence  is,  indeed,  gradual.  Opinions 
make  their  silent  progress,  like  the  waters  which  trickle 
behind  our  rocks,  and  loosen  them  from  the  moun- 
tains on  which  they  rest :  suddenly  the  hidden  opera- 
tion is  revealed,  and  a  single  day  suffices  to  lay  bare 
the  work  of  years,  if  not  of  centuries. 

A  new  era  had  dawned  upon  the  Reformation  :  al- 
ready truth  was  recovered  in  its  teaching  ;  hencefor- 
ward the  teaching  of  the  truth  in  the  Church  and  in 
society.  The  agitation  was  too  great  to  allow  of  men's 
minds  remaining  at  their  then  point  of  attainment ;  on 
the  general  faith  in  the  dogmas  so  extensively  under- 
mined, customs  had  been  established  which  now  began 
to  be  disregarded,  and  were  destined  with  them  to 
pass  away. 

There  was  a  courage  and  vitality  in  that  age,  which 
prevented  its  continuing  silent  in  presence  of  proved 
error.  The  sacraments,  public  worship,  the  hierarchy, 
vows,  constitutional  forms,  domestic  and  public  life, 
all  were  on  the  eve  of  undergoing  modification.  The 
bark,  slowly  and  laboriously  constructed,  was  on  the 
point  of  being  lowered  from  the  stocks,  and  launched 
on  the  open  sea.  It  is  for  us  to  follow  its  progress 
through  many  shoals. 

The  captivity  of  Luther  in  the  castle  of  Wartburg, 
separates  these  two  periods.  That  Divine  Providence, 
which  was  about  to  give  a  mighty  impulse  to  the  Refor- 
mation, had  prepared  the  means  of  its  progress,  by 
leading  apart  into  profound  seclusion,  the  man  chosen 
to  effect  it.  For  a  while,  the  work  was  as  much  lost 
sight  of  as  the  instrument  of  it :  but  the  seed  must  be 
committed  to  the  earth,  if  it  is  to  bring  forth  fruit; 
and  from  this  captivity,  which  might  have  seemed  to 
close  the  Reformer's  career,  the  Reformation  was  des- 
tined to  go  forth  to  new  conquests,  and 'spread  rapid- 
ly through  the  world. 

Until  thi-s  period,  the  Reformation  had  indeed  cen- 
tered in  the  person  of  Luther.  His  appearance  be- 
fore the  Diet  of  Worms  was  unquestionably  the  su- 
blimest  hour  of  his  life.  His  character  at  that  time 
seemed  almost  without  a  blemish  ;  and  this  it  is  that 
has  led  some  to  the  remark,  that  if  God,  who  hid  the  Re- 
former for  ten  months  within  the  walls  of  the  castle  of 
*  Hume,  &c. 


Wartburg,  had  at  that  moment  forever  removed  him 
from  the  eyes  of  men,  his  end  would  have  resembled 
an  apotheosis.  But  God  designs  no  apotheosis  for 
His  servants,  and  Luther  was  preserved  to  the  Church, 
that  in  him,  and  by  his  errors,  the  Church  might  learn 
that  the  faith  of  Christians  should  rest  only  on  the 
word  of  God.  He  was  hurried  away  and  placed  at  a 
distance  from  the  stage  on  which  the  great  revolution 
of  the  sixteenth  century  was  going  on.  The  truth 
which  he  had  for  four  years  so  energetically  proclaim- 
ed, continued  to  produce  its  effect  upon  Christendom  ; 
and  the  work  of  which  he  had  been  the  weak  instru- 
ment, bore  thenceforward  the  impress,  not  of  man — 
but  of  God  himself. 

All  Germany  was  moved  by  the  news  of  Luther's 
captivity.  Rumours,  the  most  contradictory,  were 
circulated  in  the  provinces.  Men's  minds  were  more 
agitated  by  the  absence  of  the  Reformer,  than  they 
could  possibly  have  been  by  his  presence.  On  one  side 
it  was  affirmed  that  some  of  his  friends,  passing  from 
the  French  territory,  had  carried  him  off,  and  lodged 
him  in  safety  beyond  the  Rhine.*  In  another  place, 
it  was  said  that  assassins  had  taken  his  life.  Even 
in  the  smallest  villages,  inquiries  were  heard  concern- 
ing Luther.  Travellers  were  questioned,  and  groups 
of  the  curious  assembled  in  the  market  places.  Some- 
times a  stranger,  passing  through,  recounted  how  the 
Reformer  had  been  carried  off ;  depicting  the  brutal 
horsemen  hastily  tieing  their  prisoner's  hands  behind 
him,  dragging  him  after  them  on  foot,  till  his  strength 
was  spent,  and  deaf  to  his  cries,  though  the  blood 
forced  its  way  from  his  fingers.f  His  body,  said  some, 
has  been  seen  pierced  through  and  through.  J  Such 
narratives  drew  forth  exclamations  of  grief  and  horror. 
'  Never  more  shall  we  behold  him  !'  said  the  gathered 
crowds  ;  *  never  again  shall  we  hear  that  bold  man 
whose  voice  stirred  the  depths  of  our  hearts  !'  Luther's 
partisans,  moved  with  indignation,  swore  to  avenge 
his  death.  Women  and  children,  men  of  peace,  and 
aged  people,  foreboded  new  disturbances.  The  alarm 
of  the  Romish  party  was  altogether  unexampled.  The 
priests  and  friars  who  had  been  at  first  unable  to  con- 
ceal their  joy,  believing  their  own  triumph  secured  by 
the  death  of  one  man,  and  had  carried  themselves 
haughtily,  would  now  willingly  have  hid  themselves 
from  the  threatening  anger  of  the  populace.  $  Those 
who  had  given  free  vent  to  their  rage,  so  long  as  Lu- 
ther was  at  large,  now  trembled  with  alarm,  though 
Luther  was  in  captivity.il  Aleander,  especially,  was 
as  if  thunderstruck.  "  The  only  way  of  extricating 
ourselves,"  wrote  a  Roman  Catholic  to  the  Archbi- 
shop of  Mentz,  "  is  to  light  our  torches,  and  go  search- 
ing through  the  earth  for  Luther,  till  we  can  restore 
him  to  the  nation  that  will  have  him."1T  It  might 
have  been  thought  that  the  pallid  ghost  of  the  Refor- 
mer, dragging  his  chain,  was  spreading  terror  around, 
and  calling  for  vengeance.  Luther's  death,  it  was 
predicted,  would  occasion  the  effusion  of  torrents  of 
human  blood.** 

Nowhere  was  there  a  stronger  feeling  displayed  than 
in  Worms  itself.  Bold  remonstrances  were  heard  both 

*  Hie invalescit  opinio,  me  esse  ab  amicis  captum  e 

Francia  missis.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  5.) 

f  Et  iter  festinantes  cursu  equit  es  ipsum  pedestrem  rapt jm 
tactum  misse  ut  sanguis  e  digtis  erumperet.  (Cochlaeus,  p. 
39.) 

|  Fuit  qui  testatus  sit  visum  a  se  Lutheri  cadaver  transfos- 
sum.  . . .  (PallaTioini  Hist.  Cone.  Tnd.  i.  p.  122.) 

5}  Molem{vulgitimminentis  ferre  non  possunt.  (L.  Epp.  ii. 
p.  13.) 

||  Qui  me  libero  insanierunt,  mine  me  captive  ita  formidant 
ut  incipiant  rnitigare.  (Ibid.) 

IT  Nos  vitam  vix  rcdempturos,  nisi  accensis  candelis  undique 
eum  requiramus.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  13.) 

**  Gerbelii  Ep.  in  M.  S.  C.  Heckelianis.  Lindner,  Leb. 
Luth.  p.  244. 


228    LUTHER  AND  MELANCTHON— LUTHER'S  SAFETY— THE  IMPERIAL  EDICT. 


from  nobles  and  people.  Ulric  Hiitten  and  Hermann 
Busch  filled  the  air  with  their  plaintive  lamentations 
and  calls  to  war.  Loud  accusations  were  brought 
against  Charles  V.  and  the  Nuncios.  The  entire  na- 
tion had  espoused  the  cause  of  the  monk  whose  ener- 
gy of  faith  had  made  him  its  leader. 

At  Wittemberg,  his  colleagues  and  friends,  and  es- 
pecially Melancthon,  were  at  first  lost  in  sadness. 
Luther  had  been  the  means  of  communicating  to  the 
young  student  the  treasures  of  that  divine  knowledge 
which  from  that  hour  had  taken  possession  of  his  whole 
soul.  It  was  Luther  who  had  given  substance  and  life 
to  that  intellectual  culture  which  Melancthon  brought 
with  him  to  Wittemberg.  The  depth  of  the  Reform- 
er's doctrine  had  impressed  the  young  Grecian,  and 
his  bold  advocacy  of  the  claims  of  the  unchanging 
Word  against  human  traditions  had  called  forth  his 
enthusiasm.  He  had  associated  himself  with  him  in 
his  labours,  and  taking  up  the  pen,  with  that  finished 
style  which  he  had  imbibed  in  the  study  of  ancient 
literature,  he  had  made  the  authority  of  Fathers  and 
of  Councils  to  bend  before  the  sovereignty  of  God's 
Word. 

The  prompt  decision  that  Luther  displayed  in  the 
trying  occasions  of  life,  Melancthon  manifested  in  his 
pursuit  of  learning.  Never  were  two  men  more  strong- 
ly marked  with  diversity  and  agreement.  "  Scripture," 
said  Melancthon,  "  satisfies  the  soul  with  holy  and 
wondrous  delight — it  is  aheavenly  ambrosia  !"*  "  The 
word  of  God,"  exclaimed  Luther,  "  is  a  sword — an 
instrument  of  war  and  destruction — it  falls  on  the 
children  of  Ephraim  like  the  lioness  that  darts  from 
the  forest."  Thus  one  saw  in  Scripture  chiefly  its 
power  to  comfort;  and  the  other,  a  mighty  energy 
opposed  to  the  corruption  of  the  world.  But  to  both 
it  was  the  sublimest  of  themes.  In  so  far,  there  was  a 
perfect  agreement  in  their  judgment.  «•  Melancthon," 
observed  Luther,  "  is  a  miracle  in  the  estimation  of  all 
who  know  him.  He  is  the  most  dreaded  enemy  of 
Satan  and  the  schoolmen,  for  he  knows  all  their  "  fool- 
ishness, and  he  knows  Christ  as  the  rock.  That  young 
Grecian  goes  beyond  me  even  in  divine  learning — he 
will  do  you  more  good  than  many  Luthers  !"  And  he 
went  on  to  say  he  was  ready  to  give  up  an  opinion  if 
Philip  disapproved  it.  Melancthon,  on  his  part,  full 
of  admiration  for  Luther's  knowledge  of  Scripture, 
ranked  him  far  above  the  Fathers.  He  took  pleasure 
in  excusing  the  jesting  which  Luther  was  reproached 
for  resorting  to,  and  would,  on  such  occasions,  compare 
him  to  an  earthen  vase  which  holds  a  precious  treasure 
in  an  unsightly  vessel.  "  I  would  be  careful  how  I 
blame  him,"  said  he  f 

But  behold  the  two  friends  so  intimately  united  in 
affection,  now  parted  one  from  the  other.  The  two 
fellow-soldiers  no  longer  march  side  by  side  to  the  rescue 
of  the  Church.  Luther  is  absent — and  lost  perhaps 
for  ever  !  The  consternation  at  Wittemberg  was  ex- 
treme :  as  that  of  an  army,  gloomy  and  dejected,  at 
sight  of  the  bleeding  corpse  of  the  general  who  was 
leading  it  on  to  victory. 

Suddenly  news  arrived  of  a  more  cheering  character. 
"  Our  well-beloved  father  still  lives,"J  exclaimed  Phi- 
lip, exultingly,  "  take  courage  and  stand  firm."  But 
ere  long  melancholy  prognostications  returned.  Lu- 
ther was  indeed  living,  but  in  close  imprisonment. 
The  edict  of  Worms,  with  its  menacing  proscriptions,^ 
was  circulated  by  thousands  throughout  the  empire, 

*  Mirabilis  in  iis  voluptas,  immo  ambrosia  qusedam  crelestis. 
(Corp.  Ref.  i.  128.) 

f  Spiritum  Martini  nolim  temere  in  hac  causa  interpellare. 
(Ibid.  p.  211.) 

{  Pater  noster  charissimus  vivit.     (Ibid.  p.  389.) 

\  Dicitur  parari  proscriptio  horrenda.     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  399.) 


and  even  in  the  Tyrolese  mountains.*  Was  not  the 
Reformation  on  the  very  eve  of  destruction  by  the  iron 
hand  impending  over  it  ?  The  gentle  spirit  of  Melanc- 
thon recoiled  with  a  thrill  of  horror. 

But  above  the  hand  of  man's  power,  a  mightier  hand 
was  making  itself  felt,  and  God  was  rendering  power- 
less that  dreaded  edict.  The  German  princes,  who 
had  long  sought  occasion  to  reduce  the  authority  which 
Rome  exercised  in  the  empire,  took  alarm  at  the  alli- 
ance between  the  Emperor  and  the  Pope,  lest  it  should 
work  the  ruin  of  their  liberty.  Whilst,  therefore, 
Charles,  in  journeying  in  the  Low  Countries,  might 
see  with  a  smile  of  irony  the  bonfires  in  which  flatter- 
ers and  fanatics  consumed  the  writings  of  Luther  in 
the  public  squares — those  writings  were  read  in  Ger- 
many with  continually  increasing  eagerness,  and  nu- 
merous pamphlets  in  favour  of  the  Reformation  every 
day  attacked  the  papal  authority. 

The  Nuncios  could  not  control  themselves  when 
they  found  that  the  edict,  which  it  had  cost  them  so 
much  to  obtain,  produced  so  feeble  an  effect.  "  The 
ink  of  the  signature,"  said  they,  "has  scarcely  had 
time  to  dry,  when,  behold,  on  all  sides,  the  imperial 
decree  vs  torn  to  pieces."  The  populace  were  more 
and  more  won  to  the  cause  of  the  extraordinary  man 
who,  without  heeding  the  thunderbolts  of  Charles  and 
of  the  Pope,  had  made  confession  of  his  faith  with  the 
courage  of  a  martyr.  It  was  said,  "  Has  he  not  offer- 
ed to  retract  if  refuted,  and  no  one  has  had  the  hardi- 
hood to  undertake  to  refute  him.  Does  not  that  show 
that  he  has  spoken  the  truth  1"  Thus  it  was  that  the 
first  emotions  of  fear  were  followed  at  Wittemberg 
and  throughout  the  empire  by  a  movement  of  enthusi- 
asm. Even  the  archbishop  of  Mentz,  beholding  the 
burst  of  national  sympathy,  durst  not  give  permission 
to  the  cordeliers  to  preach  against  the  Reformer.  The 
University,  which  might  have  been  expected  to  yield 
to  the  storm,  raised  its  head.  The  new  doctrines  had 
taken  too  deep  root  to  suffer  by  Luther's  absence,  and 
the  halls  of  the  academies  were  crowded  with  auditors.! 

Meanwhile,  the  Knight  George,  for  this  was  the 
name  of  Luther,  so  long  as  he  was  in  theWartburg,  was 
living  solitary  and  unknown.  "  If  you  were  to  see 
me,"  wrote  he  to  Melancthon,  "  truly  you  would  take 
me  for  a  knight  ;  even  you,  would  scarcely  know  me 
again. "J  Luther,  on  his  arrival,  passed  a  short  time 
in  repose,  enjoying  a  leisure  which  had  not  yet  been 
allowed  him.  He  was  at  large  within  the  fortress  ; 
but  he  was  not  permitted  to  pass  outside  it.$  All  his 
wishes  were  complied  with,  and  he  had  never  been 
better  treated.  II  Many  were  the  thoughts  that  occu- 
pied his  mind,  but  none  of  them  had  power  to  disturb 
him.  By  turns  he  looked  down  upon  the  forests  that 
surrounded  him,  and  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven — 
"  Strange  captivity  !"  he  exclaimed — "  a  prisoner  by 
consent,  and  yet  against  my  will."f  "  Pray  for  me," 
he  wrote  to  Spalatin  : — "  I  want  nothing  save  your 
prayers  :  don't  disturb  me  by  what  is  said  or  thought  of 
me  in  the  world.  At  last  I  am  quiet."**  This  letter, 
like  many  of  that  period,  is  dated  from  the  island  of 
Palmos.  Luther  compared  the  Wartburg  to  the  island 

*  Dicuntur  signatae  charts  proscriptions  bis  mille  missae 
quoque  ad  Insbruck.  (Ibid.) 

t  Scholastic!  quorum  supra  milliaibi  tune  fuerunt.  (Spa- 
latini  Annales,  1521,  October.) 

|  Equitem  videres  ac  ipse  vix  agnosceres.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  11.) 

\  Nunc  sum  hie  otiosus,  sicut  inter  captives  liber.  (Ibid. 
p.  3,  12  May.) 

||  Quanquam  et  hilariter  et  libenter  omnia  mihi  ministret. 
(Ibid.  p.  13,  15  August.) 

IT  Ego  mirabilis  captivus  qui  et  volens  ct  nolens  hie  sedeo. 
(L.Epp.  ii.  p.  4,  12  May.) 

**  Tu  fac  ut  pro  me  ores  :  hac  una  re  opus  mihi  est.  Quic- 
quid  de  me  fit  in  publico,  nihil  moeror  ;  ego  in  quiete  tandem 
sedco.  (L.  Epp  ii.  p.  4, 10  June,  1521.) 


A  SAFE  SOLITUDE— LETTER  TO  MELANCTHON. 


229 


celebrated  as  the  scene  of  the  banishment  of  St.  John 
by  the  emperor  Domitian. 

After  the  stirring  contest  that  had  agitated  his  soul, 
the  Reformer  enjoyed  repose  in  the  heart  of  the  gloomy 
forests  of  Thuringen.  There  he  studied  evangelical 
truth — not  for  disputation,  but  as  the  means  of  regene- 
ration and  of  life.  The  Reformation,  in  its  beginning, 
wa«  of  necessity  polemic — other  circumstances  re- 
quired new  labours.  After  eradicating  with  the  hoe  the 
thorns  and  brambles,  the  time  was  arrived  for  peace- 
ably sowing  the  word  of  God  in  men's  hearts.  If  Luther 
had  been  all  his  life  called  to  wage  conflicts — he  would 
not  have  effected  a  lasting  work  in  the  Church.  By  his 
captivity  he  escaped  a  danger  which  might  have  ruined 
the  cause  of  the  Reformation — that  of  always  attacking 
and  demolishing,  without  ever  defending  or  building  up. 

This  secluded  retreat  had  one  effect  perhaps  still 
more  beneficial.  Lifted  by  his  nation  like  one  raised 
upon  a  shield,  he  was  but  a  hand's  breadth  from  the 
abyss  beyond,  and  the  least  degree  of  intoxication 
might  have  precipitated  him  headlong.  Some  of  the 
foremost  promoters  of  the  Reformation  in  Germany, 
as  well  as  in  Switzerland,  had  made  shipwreck  on  the 
shoals  of  spiritual  pride  and  fanaticism.  Luther  was 
a  man  very  subject  to  the  weaknesses  of  our  nature  ; 
and,  as  it  was,  he  did  not  entirely  escape  these  beset- 
ting dangers.  Meanwhile,  the  hand  of  the  Almighty, 
for  a  while  preserved  him  from  them,  by  suddenly  re- 
moving him  from  the  intoxication  of  success,  and 
plunging  him  in  the  depth  of  a  retirement  unknown  to 
the  world  !  There  his  soul  gathered  up  itself  to  God 
— there  it  was  again  tempered  by  adversity — his  suf- 
ferings, his  humiliation,  obliged  him  to  walk,  at  least 
for  a  time,  with  the  humble — and  the  principles  of  the 
Christian  life  thenceforward  developed  themselves  in 
his  soul  with  fresh  energy  and  freedom. 

Luther's  tranquillity  was  not  of  long  duration. 
Seated  in  solitude  on  the  walls  of  the  Wartburg,  he 
passed  whole  days  lost  in  meditation.  At  times,  the 
Church  rose  before  his  vision,  and  spread  out  all  her 
wretchedness  ;*  at  other  times,  lifting  his  eyes  to 
heaven,  he  WQuld  say,  "  Canst  Thou  have  made  all 
men  in  vain  ?"  Then  letting  go  his  confidence,  he 
would  add,  dejectedly,  "  Alas  !  there  is  no  one  in  this 
closing  day  of  wrath  to  stand  as  a  wall  before  the 
Lord,  and  save  Israel  I" 

Then  recurring  to  his  own  lot,  he  dreaded  being 
charged  with  having  deserted  the  field  of  battle  ;t  the 
thought  was  insupportable.  "  Rather,''  exclaimed  he, 
"  would  I  be  stretched  on  burning  coals  than  stagnate 
here  half  dead."t  Transported  in  thought  to  Worms 
— to  Wittemberg — into  the  midst  of  his  adversaries 
—he  regretted  that,  yielding  to  his  friends'  entreaties, 
he  had  withdrawn  himself  from  the  world.  $  "Ah," 
said  he,  '•  nothing  on  earth  do  1  more  desire  than  to 
face  my  cruel  enemies. ''II 

Some  gentler  thoughts,  however,  brought  a  truce 
to  such  complainings.  Luther's  state  of  mind  was 
not  all  tempest ;  his  agitated  spirit  recovered  at  times 
a  degree  of  calm  and  comfort.  Next  to  the  assurance 
of  the  Divine  protection,  one  thing  consoled  him  in 
his  grief — it  was  the  recollection  of  Melancthon.  "  If 
I  perish,"  he  wrote,  "  the  Gospel  will  lose  nothing^F — 
you  will  succeed  me  as  Elisha  succeeded  Elijah,  with 
a  double  portion  of  my  spirit."  But  calling  to  mind 
the  timidity  of  Melancthon,  he  ejaculated — "  Minister 

•  Ego  hie  seden  stota  die  faciem  Ecclesiae  ante  me  consti- 
tuo.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  1.) 

f  Verebar  ego  ne  aciem  desere  viderer.    (L.  Epp,  ii.  1 .) 

\  Mallem  inter  carbones  vivos  ardere,  quam  solus  semivi- 
vus.  atque  utinam  non  mortuus  putere.  (Ibid.  10.) 

^  Cervicem  esse  objectandem  publico  furori.     (Ibid.  89.) 
1    1|  Nib.il  magis  opto.quam  furoribus  adversariorum  occurere. 
ob.iectojugulo.     (Ibid.  1.) 

H  Etiam  si  peream,  nihil  peribit  Evangelic.     (Ibid.  p.  10.) 


of  the  Word  !  keep  the  walls  and  towers  of  Jerusalem 
till  our  enemies  shall  strike  you  down.  We  stand 
alone  on  the  plain  of  battle  ;  after  me  they  will  strike 
you  down."* 

This  thought  of  the  final  onset  of  Rome  on  the 
infant  Church,  threw  him  into  renewed  anxieties. 
The  poor  monk — a  prisoner  and  alone — had  many  a 
struggle  to  pass  through  in  his  solitude  ;  but  suddenly 
he  seemed  to  get  a  glimpse  of  his  deliverance.  He 
thought  he  could  foresee  that  the  assaults  of  the  papa) 
power  would  rouse  the  nations  of  Germany  ;  and  that 
the  soldiers  of  the  Gospel,  victorious  over  its  enemies, 
and  gathered  under  the  walls  of  the  Wartburg,  would 
give  liberty  to  its  captive.  "  If  the  Pope,"  said  he, 

should  stretch  forth  his  hand  against  all  who  are  on 
my  side,  there  will  be  a  violent  commotion  ;  the  more 
he  urges  on  our  ruin,  the  sooner  shall  we  see  an  end 
of  him  and  his  adherents  !  And  as  for  me  ....  I 
shall  be  restored  to  your  arms.f  God  is  awakening 
many,  and  He  it  is  who  impels  the  nations.  Only  let 
our  enemies  take  up  our  affair  and  try  to  stifle  it  in 
their  arms — and  it  will  grow  by  their  pressure,  and 
come  forth  more  formidable  than  ever  !" 

But  sickness  brought  him  down  from  these  lofty 
heights  to  which  his  courage  and  faith  would  at  times 
rise.  He  had  already,  when  at  Worms,  suffered  much  ; 
and  his  disorder  had  increased  in  solitude. $  The 
food  of  the  Wartburg  was  altogether  unsuited  to  him  ; 
it  was  rather  less  ordinary  in  quality  than  that  of  his  con- 
vent, and  it  was  found  needful  to  give  him  the  poor  diet 
to  which  he  had  been  accustomed.  He  passed  whole 
nights  without  sleep — anxieties  of  mind  were  added  to 
pain  of  body.  No  great  work  is  accomplished  with- 
out struggle  and  suffering.  Luther,  alone  on  his  rock, 
endured  in  his  vigorous  frame  a  suffering  that  was 
needed,  in  order  to  the  emancipation  of  mankind. 
"  Sitting,  at  night,  in  my  appartment,"  says  he,  "  I 
uttered  cries  like  a  woman  in  travail."^  Then  ceasing 
to  complain,  and  touched  with  the  thought  that  what 
he  was  undergoing  was  sent  in  mercy  from  God,  he 
broke  forth  in  accents  of  love  :  "  Thanks  to  thee,  O 
Christ,  that  thou  wilt  not  leave  me  without  the  pre- 
cious relics  of  thy  holy  cross  !"||  But  soon  feeling 
indignation  against  himself  wrought  in  his  soul,  he  ex- 
claimed, "  Hardened  fool  that  I  am  ;  woe  is  me  !  my 
prayers  are  few  ;  I  wrestle  but  little  with  the  Lord  ;  I 
bewail  not  the  state  of  the  Church  of  God  ;1F  instead 
of  being  fervent  in  spirit,  my  passions  take  fire :  I  sink 
in  sloth,  in  sleep,  and  indolence."  Then,  not  know- 
ing to  what  to  ascribe  his  feelings,  and  accustomed  to  ex- 
pect blessing  through  the  affectionate  remembrance  of 
his  friends,  he  exclaimed,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul, 
"  0,  my  friends,  do  you  then  forget  to  pray  for  me  1 
that  God  can  thus  leave  me  to  myself." 

Those  who  were  about  him,  as  also  his  Wittemberg 
friends,  and  those  at  the  Elector's  court,  were  anxious 
and  alarmed  at  his  mental  suffering.  They  trembled 
in  the  prospect  of  the  life  that  had  been  snatched  from 
the  fires  of  the  Pope,  and  the  sword  of  Charles,  so 
sadly  sinking  and  expiring.  The  Wartburg  then  would 
be  Luther's  tomb  !  "  1  fear,"  said  Melancthon,  "  lest 
his  grief  for  the  condition  of  the  Church  should  bring 
him  down  to  the  grave.  He  has  lighted  a  candle  in 
Israel ;  if  he  dies,  what  hope  is  left  us  1  Would  that 

*  Nos  soli  adhiic  stamus  in  acie :  te  quaerent  post  me, 
(Ibid.  p.  2.) 

\  Quo  citus  id  tentaverit  hoc  citus  et  ipse  et  sui  peribunt, 
etege  revertar.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  10.) 

|  Auctum  est  maluni,  quo  Wormantiae  laborabam.  (Ibid, 
p.  17.) 

§  Sedeo  dolens,  sicutpuerbera,  lacer  et  saucius  et  cruentus. 
(Ibid.  p.  60.  9  Sept. 

j|  Oratias  Christo,  qui  me  sine  relinquiis  sanctse  Orucis  non 
dere  linquit.  (Ibid.) 

If  Nihil  gemens  pro  ecclesia  Dei.   (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  22, 13  July.) 


230         ALARM  OF  HIS  FRIENDS— THE  CONFESSIONAL— LUTHER'S  HEALTH. 


by  the  sacrifice  of  my  worthless  life,  I  could  retain  in 
this  world  one  who  is  surely  its  brightest  ornament.* 
O,  what  a  man  !"  he  exclaimed,  (as  if  already  standing 
beside  his  grave,)  "  surely  we  never  valued  him  as  we 
ought." 

What  Luther  termed  the  shameful  indolence  of  his 
prison-life,  was  in  reality,  diligence  beyond  the  strength 
of  ordinary  mortals.  "  Here  am  I,"  said  he,  on  the 
14th  of  May,  "  lapped  in  indolence  and  pleasures. 
[He  doubtless  refers  to  the  quality  of  his  food,  which 
was  at  first  less  coarse  than  what  he  had  been  used  to.] 
I  am  going  through  the  Bible  in  Hebrew  and  Greek. 
I  mean  to  write  a  discourse  in  German  touching  auri- 
cular confession ;  also  to  continue  the  translation  of 
the  Psalms,  and  to  compose  a  collection  of  sermons, 
as  soon  as  I  have  received  what  I  want  from  Wittem- 
berg.  My  pen  is  never  idle."t  Even  this  was  but  a 
part  of  Luther's  labours. 

His  enemies  thought  that,  if  not  dead,  at  least  he 
was  effectually  silenced ;  but  their  exultation  was  short, 
and,  ere  long,  no  doubt  could  exist  that  he  still  lived. 
A  multitude  of  tracts,  composed  in  the  Wartburg,  fol- 
lowed each  other  in  rapid  succession  ;  and  everywhere 
the  well-known  voice  of  the  Reformer  was  enthusias- 
tically responded  to.  Luther,  at  the  same  moment, 
put  forth  such  writings  as  were  adapted  to  build  up 
the  church,  and  controversial  tracts  which  disturbed 
his  opponents  in  their  fancied  security.  For  nearly  a 
whole  year,  he,  by  turns,  instructed,  exhorted,  rebuked, 
and  thundered  from  his  mountain  height,  and  his  as- 
tonished adversaries  might  well  inquire  whether  indeed 
there  was  not  something  supernatural  in  so  prodigious 
an  activity — "  He  could  not  have  allowed  himself  any 
rest,"!  says  Cochhsus.  But  the  solution  of  the  whole 
mystery  was  to  be  found  in  the  rashness  of  the  Romish 
party.  They  were  in  haste  to  profit  by  the  decree  of 
Worms,  to  put  an  end  to  the  Reformation  ;  and  Lu- 
ther, sentenced — placed  under  the  ban  of  the  empire, 
and  a  prisoner  in  the  Wartburg,  stood  up  in  the  cause 
of  sound  doctrine,  as  if  he  were  still  at  large  and  tri- 
umphant. It  was  especially  at  the  tribunal  of  penance 
that  the  priests  strove  to  rivet  the  fetters  of  their  delud- 
ed parishioners  ;  hence  it  is  the  Confessional  that 
Luther  first  assails.  "  They  allege,"  says  he,  «'  that 
passage  in  St.  James, '  confess  your  sins  to  one  another ;' 
a  strange  confessor  this — his  name  is  '  one  another  /' 
Whence  it  would  follow  that  the  confessors  ought  also 
to  confess  to  their  penitents  ;  that  every  Christian 
should  in  his  turn  be  pope,  bishop,  and  priest,  and  that 
the  pope  himself  should  make  confession  before  all. 

Scarcely  had  Luther  finished  this  tract,  when  he 
commenced  another.  A  divine  of  Louvain,  named 
Latomos,  already  known  by  his  opposition  to  Reuchlin 
and  Erasmus,  had  impugned  the  Reformer's  statements. 
Twelve  days  after,  Luther's  answer  was  ready,  and  it 
is  one  of  his  masterpieces.  He  first  defends  himself 
against  the  charge  of  want  of  moderation.  "The 
moderation  of  this  age,"  gays  he,  "  consists  in  bending 
the  knee  before  sacrilegious  pontiffs  and  impious  so 
phists,  and  saying,  '  Gracious  Lord,  most  worthy  mas- 
ter.' Then,  having  so  done,  you  may  persecute  who 
you  will  to  the  death ;  you  may  convulse  the  world — 
all  that,  shall  not  hinder  your  being  a  man  of  modera 
tion !  Away  with  such  moderation,  say  I.  Let  me 
speak  out,  and  delude  no  one.  The  shell  may  be  rough, 
perhaps,  but  the  nut  is  soft  and  tender."|| 

*Utinam  hac  vili  anima  mea  ipsius  vitam  emere  queam 

(Corp.  Ref.  41 5,  6  July.) 

t  Sine  intermissione  scribo.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  6,  and  16.) 
I  Cum  quiescere  non  posset.     (Cochlseus.  Acta  Lutheri,  p 

39.) 

§  Und  der  Papst  miisse  ihm  beichten.     (L .  Opp.  xvi.  p.  701 .) 
||  Cortex  metis  esse  potest  durior,  sed  nucleus  meus  mollis 

et  dulcis  est.    (L.  Opp  svii.  Lat.  ii.  p.  213.) 


The  health  of  Luther  continued  to  decline  ;  he  be- 
gan to  think  of  leaving  the  Wartburg.  But  what  to 
do  ;  to  appear  in  open  day  at  the  risk  of  his  life  1  In 
the  rear  of  the  mountain  on  which  the  fortress  was 
built,  the  country  was  intersected  by  numerous  foot- 
paths, bordered  by  tufts  of  wild  strawberries.  The 
massive  gate  of  the  castle  was  unclosed,  and  the  pri- 
soner ventured,  not  without  fear,  to  gather  some  of 
the  fruit.*  Gradually,  he  became  more  venturesome, 
ind,  clothed  in  his  knight's  disguise,  and  attended  by 
i  rough-mannered  but  faithful  guard  from  the  castle, 
le  extended  his  excursions  in  the  neighbourhood. 
One  day,  stopping  to  rest  at  an  inn,  Luther  laid  aside 
lis  sword,  which  encumbered  him,  and  took  up  some 
jooks  that  lay  near.  His  natural  disposition  got  the 
setter  of  his  prudence.  His  attendant  took  the  alarm 
est  an  action  so  unusual  in  a  man  of  arms,  should  ex- 
cite a  suspicion  that  the  doctor  was  not  really  a  knight. 
Another  time,  the  two  companions  descended  the 
mountain,  and  entered  the  convent  of  Reichardsbrunn, 
n  which,  but  a  few  months  before,  Luther  had  rested 
"or  a  night,  on  his  way  to  Worms. t  Suddenly,  one 
of  the  lay-brothers  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise 
— Luther  had  been  recognised.  His  keeper,  seeing 
low  the  matter  stood,  hurried  him  away,  and  it  was 
not  till  they  were  galloping  far  from  the  cloisters,  that 
the  monk  recovered  from  his  astonishment. 

The  life  of  the  Doctor  of  Wittemberg,  in  his  as- 
sumed character  of  a  knight,  had,  indeed,  at  times,  a 
something  about  it  truly  theological.  One  day,  the 
snares  were  made  ready — the  fortress  gates  thrown 
open — the  sporting  dogs  let  loose.  Luther  had  ex- 
pressed a  wish  to  partake  of  the  pleasures  of  the  chase. 
The  huntsmen  were  in  high  spirits ;  the  dogs  scoured 
the  hills,  driving  the  hares  from  the  brushwood  ;  but, 
as  the  tumult  swelled  around  him,  the  Knight,  George, 
motionless  in  the  midst  of  it,  felt  his  soul  fill  with 
solemn  thoughts.  Looking  round  him,  his  heart  heaved 
with  sorrow.!  •'  Is  it  not,"  said  he,  "  the  very  picture 
of  the  Devil,  setting  his  dogs,  the  bishops,  those  mes- 
sengers of  antichrist,  and  sending  them  out  to  hunt 
down  poor  souls  ?  "$  A  young  leveret  hard  been  snared : 
rejoicing  to  liberate  it,  Luther  wrapped  it  in  his  man- 
tle, and  deposited  it  in  the  midst  of  a  thicket ;  but 
scarcely  had  he  left  the  spot,  when  the  dogs  scented 
it,  and  killed  it.  Drawn  to  the  place  by  its  cry,  Luther 
uttered  an  exclamation  of  grief — u  O,  Pope  !  and  thou, 
too,  0  Satan  !  it  is  thus  that  ye  would  compass  the 
destruction  of  the  souls  that  have  been  rescued  from 
death!  "11 

While  the  Doctor  of  Wittemberg,  dead  to  the  world, 
was  seeking  to  recruit  his  spirits  by  these  occupations 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  Wartburg,  the  great  work  was 
progressing,  as  if  by  its  own  power.  The  Reformation, 
in  fact,  was  beginning  to  take  effect.  It  was  no  longer 
limited  to  teaching  ;  it  now  began  to  affect  and  mould 
the  life. 

Bernard  Feldkirchen,  the  pastor  of  Kemberg,  and 
the  first,  under  Luther's  direction,  to  expose  the  errors 
of  Rome,1f  was  also  the  first  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of 
her  institutions  :  he  married  ! 

There  is,  in  the  German  character,  a  strong  love  of 
family  and  domestic  enjoyments — hence,  of  all  the  in- 
junctions of  the  papal  authority,  none  had  had  more  la- 
mentable results  than  the  imposition  of  celibacy. 
Made  obligatory  on  the  heads  of  the  clergy,  this  prac- 

*Zu  zeiten  gehet  er  inn  die  Erdbeer  am  Schlossberg. 
(Mathesius.  p.  33.)  t  See  Vol.  ii  p.  214. 

\  Theologisabar  etiam  ibi  inter  retia  et  canes  .  . .  tantum 
misericordiae  et  doloris  miscuit  mysterium.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  43.) 

§  Quid  enim  ista  imago,  nisi  Diabolum  signincat  per  insidias 
suas  et  impios  magistros  canes  suos  . .  (Ibid.) 

[|  Sic  saevit  Papa  et  Satan  ut  servatas  etiam  animas  perdat- 
(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  44.)  IT  Vol.  i.  p.  189. 


MARRIAGE  OF  PRIESTS  AND  OF  FRIARS— MONKERY 


231 


tice  had  prevented  the  fiefs  of  the  church  from  passing 
into  hereditary  possessions.  But  extended,  by  Gre- 
gory VII.,  to  the  inferior  orders,  its  effects  had  been 
indeed  deplorable.  Many  of  the  priests,  in  evading 
the  obligation  imposed  upon  them,  by  shameful  dis- 
orders, had  drawn  down  hatred  and  contempt  on  their 
profession  ;  while  those  who  had  submitted  to  Hilde- 
brand's  law,  were  indignant  that  the  church,  which 
lavished  power,  riches,  and  earthly  possessions  on  its 
higher  dignitaries,  should  impose  on  its  humble  minis- 
ters, who  were  ever  its  most  useful  supporters,  a  de- 
nial so  opposed  to  the  Gospel. 

"  Neither  the  pope  nor  the  councils,"  said  Feldkir- 
chen,  and  another  pastor,  named  Seidler,  who  followed 
hi's  example,  "  can  have  a  right  to  impose  on  the 
church  a  command  that  endangers  soul  and  body.  The 
obligation  to  observe  God's  law  compels  us  to  throw 
aside  traditions  of  men."*  The  re-establishment  of 
marriage  was,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  an  homage  paid 
to  the  moral  law.  The  ecclesiastical  power,  in  alarm, 
instantly  issued  its  mandates  against  the  two  priests. 
Seidler,  who  lived  in  the  territory  of  Duke  George, 
was  given  up  to  his  superiors,  and  died  in  prison. 
But  the  elector,  Frederic,  refused  to  surrender  Feld- 
kirchen  to  the  Archbishop  of  Madgeburg.  "  His 
Highness,"  said  Spalatin,  "  declines  to  act  the  part  of 
a  police-officer."  Feldkirchen,  therefore,  continued  to 
preside  over  his  flock,  though  a  husband  and  a  father ! 

The  first  emotion  of  the  Reformer,  on  receiving  in- 
telligence of  these  events,  was  one  of  joy.  "  I  am  all 
admiration,"  says  he,  "  of  the  new  bridegroom  of 
Kemberg,  who  moves  on  fearlessly,  in  the  midst  of  all 
this  hubbub."  Luther  was  satisfied  that  priests  ought 
to  marry.  But  this  question  led  directly  to  another — 
the  marriage  of  friars — and,  on  this  point,  Luther  had 
to  pass  through  one  of  those  internal  struggles,  of  which 
his  life  was  full ;  for  every  reform  was,  of  necessity, 
to  be  wrought  out  by  a  mental  conflict.  Melancthon 
and  Carlstadt — the  one  a  layman,  the  other  in  priest's 
orders — thought  that  the  liberty  of  contracting  the  mar- 
riage-bond ought  to  be  as  free  to  the  friars  as  to  the 
priests.  Luther,  himself  a  monk,  did  not,  at  first, 
agree  with  them  in  judgment.  One  day,  when  the 
commandant  of  the  Wartburg  had  brought  him  some 
theses  of  Carlstadt,  touching  celibacy,  "  Good  Hea- 
ven!" he  exclaimed,  "will  our  Wittemberg  friends 
allow  wives  even  to  monks'!"  The  thought  over- 
whelmed him,  and  disturbed  his  spirit.  For  himself, 
he  put  far  from  him  the  liberty  he  claimed  for  others  : 
"  Ahl"  said  he,  indignantly,  "at  least,  they  will  not 
make  me  take  a  wife."t  This  expression  is  doubt- 
less unknown  to  those  who  assert  that  Luther's  object 
in  the  Reformation  was  that  he  might  marry.  Bent 
upon  the  truth,  not  from  any  desire  of  self-pleasing, 
but  with  upright  intentions,  he  undertook  the  defence 
of  that  which  appeared  to  him  to  be  right,  although  it 
might  be  at  variance  with  the  general  tendency  of  his 
doctrine.  He  worked  his  way  through  a  mingled  crowd 
of  truths  and  errors,  until  the  errors  had  altogether 
fallen,  and  truth  alone  remained  standing  in  his  mind. 

There  was,  indeed,  a  broad  distinction  discernible 
between  the  two  questions.  The  marriage  of  priests, 
did  not  draw  after  it  the  downfall  of  the  priesthood  ; 
on  the  contrary,  it  was  of  itself  likely  to  win  back  po- 
pular respect  to  the  secular  clergy.  But  the  marriage 
of  friars  involved  the  breaking  up  of  the  monastic  in- 
stitutions. The  question,  then,  really  was,  whether  it 
was  right  to  disband  the  army  that  acknowledged  them- 
selves the  soldiery  of  the  pope.  "  The  priests,"  said 
Luther,  writing  to  Melancthon,  "  are  ordained  by  God, 

*  Coegit  me  ergo  ut  humanus  traditiones  violarem,  necessi- 
tos  servandi  juris  divini.     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  441.) 
f  At  milu  noa  obtrudent  uxorem.    (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  40.) 


and,  therefore,  they  are  set  above  the  commandments 
of  men  ;  but  the  friars  have  of  their  own  accord  chosen 
a  life  of  celibacy — they,  therefore,  are  not  at  liberty  to 
withdraw  from  the  obligation  they  have  laid  themselves 
under."* 

The  Reformer  was  destined  to  advance  a  step  far- 
ther, and,  by  a  new  struggle,  to  carry  also  this  post  of 
the  enemy.  Already  he  had  trampled  under  his  feet 
many  Romish  corruptions :  nay,  even  the  authority  of 
Rome  herself.  But  monkery  was  still  standing — monk- 
ery, which  had,  in  early  times,  carried  the  spark  of 
life  to  many  a  desert  spot,  and,  passing  through  suc- 
cessive generations,  now  filled  so  many  cloisters  with 
sloth  and  luxury — seemed  to  find  a  voice  and  advo- 
cate in  the  castle  of  Thuringen,  and  to  depend,  for  life 
or  death,  on  the  agitated  conscience  of  one  man. 
Luther  struggled  for  a  while,  at  one  moment  on  the 
point  of  rejecting  it,  at  another  disposed  to  acknow- 
ledge it.  At  last,  no  longer  able  to  support  the  con- 
test, he  threw  himself,  in  prayer,  at  the  feet  of  Christ, 
exclaiming  :  "  Do  thou  teach  us — do  thou  deliver  us 
— establish  us  with  thy  free  Spirit,  in  the  liberty  thou 
hast  given  us — for  surely  we  are  thy  people  !"t 

And,  truly,  there  was  no  long  tarrying ;  a  great 
change  took  place  in  the  Reformer's  thoughts,  and  again 
it  was  the  great  doctrine  of  Justification  by  Faith 
which  gave  victory. 

This  weapon,  which  had  put  down  indulgences, 
baffled  Romish  intrigues,  and  humbled  the  pope  him- 
self, dethroned  monkery,  also,  from  the  place  it  held 
in  the  mind  of  Luther,  and  of  all  Chistendom.  Luther 
was  led  to  see  that  the  monastic  institutions  were  in 
flagrant  opposition  to  the  doctrines  of  Free  Grace,  and 
that  the  life  led  by  the  monks  was  entirely  grounded 
on  the  assertion  of  human  merit.  Convinced,  from 
that  instant,  that  the  glory  of  Christ  was  at  stake,  his 
conscience  incessantly  repeated — "  Monkery  must 
yield."  So  long  as  Justification  by  Faith  is  clearly 
held  by  the  church,  not  one  of  her  members  will  be- 
come a  monk.t  This  persuasion  continued  to  gain 
strength  in  his  mind,  and,  as  early  as  the  beginning  of 
December,  he  addressed  to  the  bishops  and  deacons  of 
the  church  of  Wittemberg,  the  following  theses — his 
declaration  of  war  against  monkery  : — 

Whatsoever  is  not  of  faith,  is  sin. — Rom.  xiv.  23. 
Whoever  binds  himself  by  a  vow  of  celibacy,  of 
chastity,  of  service  to  God — without  faith — vows,  pro- 
fanely and  idolatrously,  a  vow  to  the  devil  himself. 

"  To  make  such  vows,  is  worse  than  to  be  priests 
of  Cybele,  or  vestals  of  pagan  worship ;  for  the  monks 
make  their  vows  in  the  thought  that  they  shall  be  jus- 
tified and  saved  by  them ;  and  that  which  should  be 
ascribed  to  the  mercy  of  God  alone,  is  thus  ascribed 
to  human  deservings.  Such  convents  ought  to  be  razed 
to  the  foundation,  as  being  abodes  of  the  devil.  There 
is  but  one  order  that  is  holy,  and  makes  men  holy, 
and  that  is,  Christianity,  or  Faith. $ 

"To  make  the  religious  houses  really  useful,  they 
should  be  converted  into  schools,  wherein  children 
might  be  brought  up  to  manhood  ;  instead  of  which, 
they  are  establishments  where  grown  men  are  reduced 
to  second  childhood  for  the  rest  of  their  lives." 

We  see  that  Luther,  at  this  period,  would  have  to- 
lerated the  convents  as  houses  of  education  ;  but,  ere 
long,  his  attack  upon  them  became  more  unsparing. 

*  Me  enim  vehementer  movet,  quod  sacerdotum  ordo,  a 
Deo  instiutus,  est  liber,  non  autem  monachorum  qui  sua 
sponte  statum  eligorunt.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  34.) 

f  Dominus  Jesus  erudiat  et  liberet  nos,  per  misericordi- 
am  suam,  in  libertatem  nostram.  (Melanothon  on  Celibacy, 
6th  Aug.  1521  ibid.  p.  40.) 

L.  Opp.  (W.  )xxii.  p.  1466. 


^  Es  ist  nicht  mehr  denn  eine  enige  G< 
lig  ist,  und  heilig  macht (L.  Opp, 


eGeistlichket.diedahei. 


xvii.  p.  718.) 


232 


LUTHER  ON  MONASTIC  VOWS— LUTHER'S  LETTER  TO  SPALATIN. 


The  immorality  and  shameful  practices  that  dis- 
graced the  cloisters,  recurred  forcibly  to  his  thoughts. 
"  It  is  my  great  aim,"  he  wrote  to  Spalatin,  on  the 
llth  of  November,  "  to  rescue  the  young  from  the 
hellish  fires  of  celibacy  ;"*  and  he  proceeded  to  com- 
pose a  tract  against  monastic  vows,  which  he  dedicat- 
ed to  his  father.  "  Do  you  desire,1'  said  he,  in  his 
dedication,  to  the  old  man  at  Mansfield,  "  do  you  still 
feel  a  desire  to  extricate  me  from  a  monk's  life  ?  You 
have  the  right  to  do  so,  for  you  are  still  my  father,  and 
I  am  still  your  son.  But  it  is  not  needed.  God  has 
been  beforehand  with  you,  and  has  himself  delivered 
me  from  it,  by  his  mighty  arm.  What  does  it  matter 
if  I  should  lay  aside  the  tonsure  or  the  cowl  1  Is  it 
the  cowl — is  it  the  tonsure,  that  constitutes  a  monk  1 
"  All  things  are  yours/'  said  St.  Paul,  "  and  you  are 
Christ's."  I  belong  not  to  the  cowl,  but  the  cowl  to 
me.  I  am  a  monk,  and  yet  no  monk.  I  am  a  new 
creature,  not  of  the  pope,  but  of  Jesus  Christ !  Christ 
alone,  and  no  mere  go-between,  is  my  bishop,  my 
abbot,  my  prior,  my  Lord,  my  master — and  I  ac- 
knowledge no  other.  What  matters  it  to  me  if  the 
pope  should  sentence  and  put  me  to  death  ?  He  can- 
not summon  me  from  the  grave,  and  take  my  life  a 
second  time.  That  great  day  is  nigh,  when  the  king- 
dom of  abominations  shall  be  overthrown.  Would  to 
God  the  pope  would  do  his  worst,  and  put  us  all  to 
death  ;  our  blood  would  cry  to  heaven  against  him, 
and  bring  down  swift  destruction  on  him  and  his  ad- 
herents.''! 

Luther  himself  was  already  transformed  ;  he  felt 
himself  no  longer  a  friar.  It  was  no  outward  circum- 
stances, no  human  passions,  no  haste  of  the  flesh,  that 
had  brought  about  the  change.  A  struggle  had  been 
gone  through.  Luther  had,  at  first,  sided  with  monk- 
ery, but  truth  had  descended  into  the  arena,  and  monk- 
ery was  overthrown.  The  triumphs  of  human  passion 
are  short-lived,  but  those  of  truth  are  decisive  and  du- 
rable. 

While  Luther  was  thus  preparing  the  way  for  one 
of  the  greatest  changes  which  the  church  was  destined 
to  pass  through,  and  the  Reformation  was  beginning 
to  manifest  its  effects  on  the  lives  of  Christians — the 
partisans  of  Rome,  with  that  blind  infatuation  common 
to  those  who  have  long  held  power,  were  pleasing 
themselves  with  the  thought,  that  because  Luther  was 
in  the  Wartburg,  the  Reformation  was  for  ever  at  an 
end.  They  thought,  therefore,  quietly  to  resume  their 
former  practices,  which  had  been  for  an  instant  inter- 
rupted by  the  monk  of  Wittemberg.  Albert,  the  Arch- 
bishop and  Elector  of  Mentz,  was  one  of  those  weak 
persons  who,  when  things  are  nearly  balanced,  are 
found  on  the  side  of  truth;  but  whenever  their  own 
interest  is  concerned,  are  quite  willing  to  take  up  with 
error.  His  great  aim  was,  that  his  court  should  equal 
in  splendour  that  of  any  of  the  German  princes  ;  that 
his  equipages  should  be  as  rich,  and  his  table  as  well- 
served.  The  trade  in  indulgences  was  to  him  an  ad- 
mirable resource  for  the  promotion  of  his  favourite  ob- 
ject. Accordingly,  no  sooner  was  the  decree  against 
Luther  issued  from  the  imperial  chancellor's  court, 
than  Albert,  who  was  then  at  Halle,  attended  by  his 
courtiers,  called  together  the  venders  of  indulgences, 
whose  activity  had  been  paralysed  by  the  Reformer's 
preaching,  and  endeavoured  to  encourage  them  by  such 
words  as  these  : — "  Do  not  fear,  we  have  silenced 
him  ;  go  shear  the  flock  in  peace.  The  monk  is  in 
prison,  under  bolts  and  bars,  and  this  time  he  will  be 
clever  indeed  if  he  disturbs  us  at  our  work."  The 

*  Adolescentes  librerare  ex  isto  inferno  caelibatus.  (Ibid- 
ii.  95.) 

f  Daas  unser  Blut  mocht  schreien  und  dringen  sein  Gericht, 
dass  sein  bald  via  Ende  wurde.  (L.  Epp.  ii,  p.  105.) 


market  was  again  opened,  the  wares  spread  out  for 
sale,  and  again  the  churches  of  Halle  resounded  with 
the  harangues  of  the  mountebanks. 

But  Luther  still  lived ;  and  his  voice  had  power  to  pas-s 
beyond  the  walls  and  gratings  behind  which  he  was 
concealed.  Nothing  could  have  roused  him  to  a  higher 
pitch  of  indignation.  "  What !"  thought  he,  "  vio- 
lent discussions  have  taken  place,  I  have  braved  every 
danger,  the  truth  has  triumphed,  and  now  they  dare 
to  trample  it  in  the  dust,  as  if  it  had  been  refuted. 
They  shall  again  hear  that  voice  which  arrested  their 
guilty  traffic."  "I  will  take  no  rest,"  wrote  Luther 
to  Spalatin,  "  till  I  have  attacked  the  idol  of  Mentz, 
and  its  whoredoms  at  Halle."*  He  went  instantly 
to  work,  caring  little  for  the  mystery  in  which  some 
sought  to  envelope  his  seclusion  in  the  Wartburg.  He 
was  like  Elijah  in  the  desert,  forging  new  thunderbolts 
to  hurl  against  the  impious  Ahab.  On  the  1st  of  No- 
vember, he  completed  a  tract  "  Against  the  new  Idol 
of  Halle." 

The  archbishop  had  received  information  of  Luther's 
intentions.  Urged  by  his  apprehensions,  he,  toward 
the  middle  of  December,  despatched  two  of  his  attend- 
ants, Capito  and  Auerbach,  to  Wittemberg,  to  ward  off 
the  blow.  "  It  is  indispensable,"  said  they  to  Melanc- 
thon,  who  received  them  courteously,  "  it  is  quite  in- 
dispensable that  Luther  should  moderate  his  impetu- 
osity." But  Melancthon,  though  himself  of  gentler 
spirit,  was  not  of  the  number  of  those  who  imagine 
wisdom  to  consist  in  perpetual  concession,  retracting, 
and  silence.  "  God  is  making  use  of  him,"  he  replied, 
"  and  this  age  requires  a  bitter  and  pungent  salt."t 
On  this,  Capito,  addressing  himself  to  Jonas,  endea- 
voured, through  him,  to  influence  the  elector's  councils. 

The  report  of  Luther's  design  had  already  spread 
thither,  and  produced  great  consternation.  "  What !" 
said  the  courtiers,  "  rekindle  the  flame  that  it  cost  so 
much  trouble  to  subdue  !  The  only  safety  for  Luther 
is  to  withdraw  into  the  shade ;  and  see  how  he  exalts 
himself  against  the  greatest  prince  in  the  empire." 
"  I  will  not  suffer  Luther  to  write  against  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Mentz,  to  the  disturbance  of  the  public  tran- 
quillity,"! said  the  elector. 

When  these  words  were  reported  to  Luther,  he  was 
indignant.  It  is  not  enough,  then,  to  confine  his  body, 
they  would  enchain  his  spirit,  and  the  truth  itself.  Do 
they  imagine  he  hides  himself  from  fear  1  or  that  his 
retreat  is  a  confession  of  defeat  ?  On  the  contrary,  he 
contends  that  it  is  a  victory  gained.  Who,  then,  in 
Worms,  had  dared  to  rise  up  against  him,  in  opposition 
to  the  truth?  Accordingly,  when  the  captive  of  the 
Wartburg  had  finished  reading  Spalatin's  letter,  ap- 
prizing him  of  the  elector's  intention,  he  threw  it  aside, 
resolving  to  return  no  answer.  But  he  could  not  con- 
tain his  feelings  ;  he  again  took  it  in  hand.  "  And  so, 
the  elector  will  not  suffer!"  &c.,  wrote  Luther,  in  re- 
ply, "  and  I,  on  my  part,  will  not  suffer  that  the  elec- 
tor should  not  allow  me  to  write."  Rather  will  I  be 
the  utter  ruin  of  yourself,  the  elector,  and  the  whole 
world. $  If  I  have  stood  up  against  the  pope,  who 
created  your  cardinal,  is  it  fitting  that  I  should  give 
way  to  his  creature  1  Truly,  it  is  very  fine  to  hear 
you  say  we  ought  not  to  disturb  the  public  peace,  while 
you  permit  the  disturbance  of  the  Peace  that  is  from 
God.  It  shall  not  be  so,  Spalatin  1  O  Prince,  it  shall 
not  stand  !||  I  send,  with  this,  a  tract  I  had  written 

*  Non  continebor  quin  idolum  Moguntinum  invadam,  cum 
suo  lupanari  Hallensi.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  59, 7th  October.) 

t  Huic  seculoopus  esse  acerrimo  sale.    (Corp.  Ref.  i  463.) 

\  Non  passurum  principem,  scribi  in  Moguntiuum.  L. 
Epp.  ii.  94. 

fc  Potius  te  et  principem  ipsum  perdam  et  omnem  creaturara. 
L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  94. 

U  Non  sic,  Spalatine,  non  sic,  princeps.    (Ibid.) 


LUTHER  TO  THE  CARDINAL  ELECTOR— ALBERT  TO  LUTHER. 


233 


against  the  cardinal,  before  I  received  your  letter; 
— please  to  hand  it  to  Melancthon." 

The  reading  of  this  manuscript  alarmed  Spalatin  ; 
— he  again  urged  on  the  Reformer  the  imprudence  of 
-a  publication  that  would  oblige  the  Imperial  govern- 
ment to  lay  aside  its  affected  ignorance  of  what  had 
become  of  him,  and  to  proceed  to  punish  a  prisoner 
who  assailed  the  chief  dignitary  of  the  Church  and 
Empire.  If  Luther  persisted,  the  general  tranquillity 
would  be  disturbed,  and  the  cause  of  the  Reformation 
endangered.  Luther,  therefore,  consented  to  delay 
the  publication,  and  even  gave  Melancthon  leave  to 
strike  out  the  more  severe  passages.*  But  growing 
indignant  at  his  friend's  timidity,  he  wrote  to  Spalatin, 
— "  The  Lord  still  lives — He  reigns — the  Lord  whom 
you,  councillors  of  the  court,  cannot  trust,  unless  He 
so  shapes  his  work,  as  that  there  be  nothing  left  to 
trust  Him  in  !" — and  he  forthwith  resolved  to  write  di- 
rect to  the  cardinal. 

It  is  the  Episcopal  authority  itself  that  Luther  calls 
to  the  bar  of  judgment,  in  the  person  of  the  German 
primate.  His  words  are  those  of  a  bold  man,  burning 
with  zeal  in  behalf  of  truth,  and  feeling  that  he  speaks 
in  the  name  of  God  himself. 

"Your  Electoral  Highness,"  wrote  he,  from  the 
depth  of  his  retirement,"  has  seen  fit  again  to  set  up  at 
Halle  the  idol  that  engulfs  the  treasure  and  the  souls 
of  poor  Christians.  You  think,  perhaps,  that  I  am 
disabled,  and  that  the  power  of  the  emperor  will  easily 
silence  the  protest  of  a  feeble  monk.  .  .  .  But  know 
this— I  will  fearlessly  discharge  the  duty  that  Christian 
charity  lays  me  under,  dreading  not  the  gates  of  hell ! 
— and  much  less,  popes,  bishops,  or  cardinals. 

"  Therefore,  I  humbly  implore  your  Electoral  High- 
ness to  call  to  remembrance  the  origin  of  this  business, 
and  how,  from  one  little  spark,  came  so  fearful  a  con- 
flagration. Then  also,  the  world  reposed  in  fancied 
security.  '  That  poor  mendicant  friar,'  thought  they, 
*  who,  unajded,  would  attack  the  pope,  has  undertaken 
a  task  above  his  strength.'  But  God  interposed  his 
arm,  and  gave  the  pope  more  disturbance  and  anxiety 
than  he  had  known  since  first  he  sat  in  the  temple  of 
God,  and  lorded  it  over  God's  Church.  That  same 
God  still  lives — let  none  doubt  it.t  He  will  know 
how  to  bring  to  nothing  the  efforts  of  a  Cardinal  of 
Mentz,  though  he  should  be  backed  by  four  emperors 
— for  it  is  His  pleasure  to  bring  down  the  lofty  cedars, 
and  humble  the  pride  of  the  Pharaohs. 

"  For  this  cause  I  apprize  your  Highness,  that,  if 
the  idol  is  not  removed,  it  will  be  my  duty,  in  obedience 
to  God's  teaching,  publicly  to  rebuke  your  Highness, 
as  I  have  done  the  pope  himself.  Let  not  your  High- 
ness neglect  this  notice.  I  shall  wait  fourteen  days 
for  an  early  and  favourable  answer.  Given  in  my  wil- 
derness retreat,  on  Sunday  after  St.  Catherine's  day, 
1521.  Your  Highness'  devoted  and  humble,  MARTIN 
LUTHER. 

This  letter  was  forwarded  to  Wittemberg,  and  from 
thence  to  Halle,  where  the  Cardinal  Elector  was  then 
resident ;  for  no  one  dared  venture  to  intercept  it,  fore- 
seeing the  storm  such  an  act  of  audacity  would  have 
called  forth.  But  Melancthon  accompanied  it  by  a 
letter  to  the  prudent  Capito,  wherein  he  laboured  to 
give  a  favourable  turn  to  so  untoward  a  step. 

It  is  not  possible  to  describe  the  feelings  of  the  young 
and  pusillanimous  archbishop,  on  the  receipt  of  the 
Reformer's  letter.  The  forthcoming  work  against  the 
idol  of  Halle  was  like  a  sword  suspended  over  his  head. 
And  yet,  what  must  have  been,  at  the  same  time,  the 
irritation  produced  by  the  insolence  of  the  low-born  and 

*  Ut  acerbiora  tradat    (ib.  p.  1 10.)  doubtless  radat. 
\  Dersclbig  Oott  lebet  noch,  da  zweifel  nur  niemand  an 
.  .  .  L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  113. 


excommunicated  monk,  who  dared  address  such  lan- 
guage to  a  prince  of  the  house  of  Brandenburg,  and  a 
primate  of  the  German  Church.  Capito  besought  the 
archbishop  to  comply  with  Luther's  advice.  Fear, 
pride,  and  conscience,  which  he  could  not  stifle,  strug- 
gled long  in  Albert's  soul.  At  length,  dread  of  the 
threatened  writing,  joined,  perhaps,  to  a  feeling  of  re- 
morse, prevailed.  He  stooped  to  humble  himself,  and 
put  together  such  an  answer  as  seemed  likely  to  ap- 
pease the  man  of  the  Wartburg,  and  scarcely  had  the 
fourteen  days  expired,  when  Luther  received  the  fol- 
lowing letter,  more  surprising  even  than  his  own  terri- 
fying epistle. 

"  My  dear  Doctor — I  have  received  and  read  your 
letter,  and  have  taken  it  in  good  part,  as  being  well 
intended  :  but  I  think  the  cause  that  induced  you  to 
write  to  me  in  such  a  strain,  has,  for  a  long  time  past, 
had  no  existence.  It  is  my  desire,  by  God's  help,  to 
comport  myself  as  a  pious  bishop,  and  a  Christian 
prince ;  and  I  confess  that,  for  this,  God's  grace  is 
necessary  to  me.  I  deny  not  that  I  am  a  sinful  man, 
liable  to  sin,  and  apt  to  be  led  astray,  and  even  sin- 
ning and  going  astray,  every  day  of  my  life.  I 
know  that,  without  God's  grace,  I  am  but  worth- 
less and  loathsome  mire,  like  others ;  if  not  worse. 
In  replying  to  your  letter,  1  would  not  omit  to  express 
the  favour  I  bear  you  ;  for  it  is  my  most  earnest  desire, 
for  Christ's  sake,  to  show  you  all  kindness  and  favour. 
I  know  how  to  receive  the  rebuke  of  a  Christian,  and 
a  brother.  By  my  own  hand.  ALBERT. 

Such  was  the  strain  in  which  the  Elector- Archbishop 
of  Mentz  and  Magdeburg,  commissioned  to  represent 
and  maintain,  in  Germany,  the  constitution  of  the 
Church,  wrote  to  the  excommunicated  prisoner  of  the 
Wartburg !  In  thus  replying,  did  Albert  obey  the  bet- 
ter dictates  of  his  conscience,  or  was  he  swayed  by  his 
fears  1  On  the  former  supposition,  it  is  a  noble  letter ; 
on  the  latter,  it  is  contemptible.  We  would  rather 
suppose  it  to  have  proceeded  from  a  right  motive. — 
However  that  may  be,  it  at  least  shows  the  vast  supe- 
riority of  the  servant  of  God  above  the  greatness  of 
this  world.  While  Luther,  solitary,  a  captive,  and 
under  sentence,  derived  from  his  faith  an  unconquer- 
able courage,  the  cardinal-archbishop,  surrounded  on 
all  sides  with  the  power  and  favour  of  the  world,  trem- 
bled in  his  chair.  Again  and  again,  does  this  reflec- 
tion present  itself,  and  it  affords  the  solution  of  the 
strange  enigma  offered  by  the  history  of  the  Reforma- 
tion. The  Christian  is  not  called  to  calculate  his  re- 
sources, and  count  the  means  of  success.  His  one 
concern  is  to  know  that  his  cause  is  the  cause  of  God ; 
— and  that  he  himself  has  no  aim  but  his  Master's 
glory.  Doubtless,  he  has  an  inquiry  to  make,  but  it 
has  reference  only  to  his  motives  ;  the  Christian  looks 
in  upon  his  heart — not  upon  his  arm  :  he  regards  right 
— not  strength.  And  that  question  once  well  settled 
— his  path  is  clear.  It  is  for  him  to  go  boldly  forward, 
though  the  world  and  all  its  armies  should  withstand 
his  progress  ;  in  the  firm  persuasion  that  God  himself 
will  fight  against  the  opposers. 

Thus  did  the  enemies  of  the  Reformation  pass  at 
once  from  the  harshest  measures  to  pitiable  weakness : 
they  had  done  this  at  Worms,  and  these  sudden  chang- 
es are  continually  recurring  in  the  conflict  between 
truth  and  error.  Every  cause  destined  to  succumb, 
carries  with  it  an  internal  malaise,  which  occasions  it 
to  stagger  and  fluctuate  between  opposite  extremes. 
Steadiness  of  purpose  and  energy  could  not  sanctify  a 
bad  cause,  but  they  might  serve  at  least  to  gild  its 
fall  with  what  the  world  calls  glory. 

Joachim  I.,  Elector  of  Brandenburg,  Albert's  bro- 
ther, was  an  example  of  that  decision  of  character  so 
rare  in  our  times.  Immoveable  in  his  principles,  do- 


234 


JOACHIM— THE  LAST  SHALL  BE  FIRST— LUTHER'S  FITNESS. 


cisive  in  action,  knowing  when  needful  how  to  resist 
encroachments  of  the  Pope,  he  opposed  an  iron  hand 
to  the  progress  of  the  Reformation.  Long  before  this? 
when  at  Worms,  he  had  urged  that  Luther  should  be' 
refused  a  hearing,  and  brought  to  punishment,  not- 
withstanding the  safe-conduct  with  which  he  was  fur- 
nished. Scarcely  was  the  edict  to  Worms  issued, 
when  he  directed  that  it  should  be  rigorously  enforced 
in  his  states.  Luther  could  appreciate  so  decided  a 
character,  and,  drawing  a  distinction  in  favour  of  Joa- 
chim, when,  speaking  of  his  other  adversaries,  remark- 
ed, "we  may  still  pray  for  the  elector  of  Branden- 
burg."* This  disposition  in  the  prince  seemed  to 
communicate  itself  to  his  people.  Berlin  and  Bran- 
denburg long  continued  closed  to  the  reformed  doc- 
trines. But  that  which  is  slowly  received,  is  firmly 
held  ;  while  countries,  which  then  hailed  the  Gospel 
with  joy,  as  Belgium  and  Westphalia,  were  ere  long 
seen  to  abandon  it ;  Brandenburg,  which  was  the  lat- 
est of  the  German  states  to  enter  on  the  way  of  faith 
was  destined,  at  a  later  period,  to  stand  foremost  in 
the  cause  of  the  Reformation. t 

Luther  was  not  without  suspicion  that -the  Cardi- 
nal's letter  was  dictated  by  some  insidious  design  sug- 
gested by  Capito.  He  returned  no  answer ;  he  de- 
clared to  the  latter,  that  so  long  as  the  Archbishop, 
unequal  as  he  was  to  the  care  of  a  petty  parish, 
should  hold  to  his  pretensions  as  Cardinal,  and  his 
episcopal  state,  instead  of  discharging  the  humble  duty 
of  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  he  could  not  be  in  the 
way  of  salvation. t  Meanwhile,  and  at  the  very  time 
that  Luther  contended  against  error,  as  if  he  were  still 
in  the  thick  of  the  conflict,  he  was  at  work  in  his  re- 
tirement as  though  regardless  of  all  that  was  happen- 
ing outside  its  walls.  The  time  had  arrived  when  the 
.  Reformation  was  to  pass  frorh  the  closest  of  divines, 
into  the  private  life  of  nations  ;  and,  nevertheless,  the 
great  engine  by  which  this  advance  was  to  be  effect- 
ed was  not  yet  brought  forth.  This  mighty  and  won- 
der-working engine,  from  whence  a  storm  of  missiles 
was  to  be  discharged  against  Rome,  battering  down 
its  walls,  this  engine,  which  was  to  upheave  the  burden 
jnder  which  the  Papacy  then  held  down  the  almost 
stifled  Church,  and  to  communicate  to  mankind  an  im- 
pulse which,  ages  after,  would  still  be  felt,  was  or- 
dained to  go  forth  from  the  old  castle  of  the  Wartburg, 
and  enter,  with  the  Reformer,  on  the  world's  stage  on 
the  same  day  that  closed  his  captivity. 

The  further  the  Church  was  removed  from  the  days 
in  which  Jesus,  its  true  light,  walked  on  this  earth,  the 
more  did  it  need  the  candle  of  God's  word  to  transmit 
to  after  times  the  unclouded  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ. 
But  that  Divine  Word  was  unknown  to  that  age. 
Some  fragments  of  translations  from  the  Vulgate, 
made  in  1477,  1490,  and  1518,  had  been  but  coldly 
received,  and  were  almost  unintelligible,  as  well  as 
from  their  high  price,  beyond  the  reach  of  the  common 
people.  The  giving  the  Scriptures  to  the  Church  in 
Germany,  in  the  vernacular  tongue,  had  even  been  pro- 
hibited. $  Added  to  which,  the  number  of  those  who 
could  read,  became  considerable,  only  when  there  ex- 
isted in  the  German  language  a  book  of  strong  and 
general  interest. 

Luther  was  ordained  to  present  his  nation  with  the 
written  word.  That  same  God  who  'had  relegated  St. 
John  in  Patmos,  that  he  might  there  write  what  he  had 
seen,  had  shut  up  Luther  in  the  Wartburg,  that  he 

*  Helwing,  Gesch.  der  Brandeb.ii,  p.  60S. 

\  Hoc  enim  proprium  est  illorum  (ex  March.  Brandeburg) 
«t  quam  semel  in  religione  sententiam  approbaverint,  non 
facile  deserant.  (Leutingeri  Opp.  i.  41.) 

t  Larvam  cardinalatus  et  pompam  episcopalera  ablegare. 
(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  132.) 

$  Codex  Diplom.  Ecelessise  Mogunt.  iv.  p.  460. 


should  there  translate  his  Word.  This  great  labour, 
which  it  would  have  been  difficult  for  him  to  take  hi 
hand  in  the  distracting  occupations  of  Wittemberg, 
was  to  seat  the  new  edifice  on  the  solid  rock,  and,  af- 
ter the  lapse  of  so  many  ages,  recall  Christians  from 
scholastic  subtleties  to  the  pure  and  unadulterated 
fountains  of  redemption  and  salvation.  The  wants  of 
the  Church  loudly  called  for  this  service,  and  Luther's 
deep  experience  had  fitted  him  to  render  it.  In  truth, 
he  had  found  in  the  faith,  that  rest  for  his  own 
soul,  which  his  fluctuating  conscience  and  monk- 
ish prejudice  had  so  long  sought  in  merits  and 
holiness  of  his  own.  The  ordinary  teaching  of  the 
Church,  the  theology  of  the  schools  knew  nothing  of 
the  consolations  which  faith  gives  :  but  the  Scriptures 
set  them  forth  powerfully,  and  it  was  in  the  Scriptures 
that  he  had  discovered  them.  Faith  in  God's  word 
had  given  him  liberty  !  By  faith  he  felt  himself  freed 
from  the  dogmatic  authority  of  Church,  hierarchy, 
tradition,  the  notions  of  the  schools,  the  power  of  pre- 
judice, and  commandments  of  men  !  These  manifold 
bonds  which  had  for  ages  chained  down  and  silenced 
all  Christendom,  were  burst  asunder,  and  he  could 
raise  his  head  freed  from  all  authority  save  that  of  the 
Word.  This  independence  of  man,  this  subjection  to 
God,  which  he  had  learned  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  he 
was  anxious  to  communicate  to  the  Church.  But  for 
this  purpose  it  was  needful  that  he  should  give  to  it 
God's  own  Revelations.  There  was  a  necessity  that 
some  strong  hand  should  unclose  the  portals  of  that 
arsenal  whence  Luther  had  drawn  his  weapons,  and 
that  its  recesses,  which  had  for  ages  been  unexplored, 
should  he  laid  open  to  all  Christian  people  against  the 
day  of  trial. 

Luther  had,  before  this  time,  translated  some  frag- 
ments of  the  Holy  Scripture.  The  seven  penitential 
psalms*  had  first  occupied  his  pen.  John  the  Baptist 
— JESUS  CHRIST — and  the  Reformation — alike  com- 
menced by  calling  men  to  repentance.  It  is,  indeed, 
the  principle  of  every  regeneration  in  human  nature. 
These  earlier  essays  had  been  eagerly  bought  up,  and 
had  awakened  a  general  demand  for  more  ;  and  this 
desire  on  the  part  of  the  people  was  by  Luther  regard- 
ed as  a  call  from  God.  He  resolved  to  meet  it.  He 
was  a  captive  enclosed  within  lofty  walls  ;  but  what 
of  that ;  he  would  devote  his  leisure  to  render  the 
Word  of  God  into  the  language  of  his  nation.  Soon 
shall  we  see  that  Word  descending  with  him  from  the 
Wartburg,  circulating  among  the  families  of  Germany 
and  enriching  them  with  spiritual  treasure,  that  had 
hitherto  been  shut  up  within  the  hearts  of  a  few  pious 
persons.  •"  Would  that  that  book  alone,"  he  exclaim- 
ed, "  were  in  all  languages,  before  the  eyes,  in  the 
ears,  and  in  the  hearts  of  all."t  Admirable  words, 
which  a  well-known  society!  engaged  in  translating 
the  Bible  into  the  vernacular  dialect  of  every  nation 
under  heaven,  has,  after  a  lapse  of  three  centuries,  un- 
dertaken to  realise.  "  Scripture,"  says  he  again, 
"  Scripture  'without  comment  is  the  sun  whence  all 
teachers  receive  their  light." 

Such  are  the  true  principles  of  Christianity,  and  of 
the  Reformation.  Adopting  these  memorable  words — 
We  are  not  to  seek  light  from  the  Fathers  to  interpret 
Scripture,  but  to  use  Scripture  to  interpret  the  writ- 
ings of  the  Fathers — the  Reformers,  as  also  the  Apos- 
tles, hold  forth  the  Word  of  God  alone  as  light,  while 
they  exalt  the  one  offering  of  Christ  as  the  only  right- 
eousness. To  mingle  commandments  of  men,  with 
this  supreme  authority  of  God,  or  any  righteousness 

*  Ps.  6,  32,  38, 51 , 102,  130, 147. 

|  Et  solus  hie  liber  omnium  lingua,  manu,  oculis,  auribus, 
cordibus,  versaretur.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  116.) 
J  The  Bible  Society. 


LUTHER  AND  SATAN— HE  QUITS  THE  WARTBURG— THE  SORBONNE.      235 


<»T  man's  own,  with  this  perfect  righteousness  of  Christ, 
is  to  corrupt  the  two  great  fundamental  truths  of  the 
Gospel.  Such  were  the  two  leading  heresies  of  Rome  ; 
and  the  doctrines  that  certain  teachers  would  introduce 
into  the  bosom  of  the  Reformation,  though  not  carried 
to  such  a  length,  have  the  same  tendencies. 

Luther,  taking  up  the  Greek  originals  of  the  inspired 
writers,  entered  upon  the  difficult  task  of  rendering 
them  into  his  native  tongue.  Important  moment  in 
the  history  of  the  Reformation!  thenceforth,  it  was 
no  longer  in  the  hands  of  the  Reformer.  The  Bible 
was  brought  forward — and  Luther  held  a  secondary 
place.  God  showed  himself,  and  man  was  seen  as  no- 
thing. The  Reformer  placed  the  Book  in  the  hands  of  his 
contemporaries  ;  thenceforward,  each  could  hear 
God  speaking  to  him— and,  as  for  himself,  he  min- 
gled in  the  crowd,  placing  himself  among  those  who 
came  to  draw  from  the  common  fountain  of  light  and 
life. 

In  translating  the  holy  Scriptures,  Luther  had  found 
that  consolation  and  strength  which  met  his  need. 
Weak  in  body,  solitary,  depressed  in  spirit,  by  the  ma- 
chinations of  his  enemies,  and  sometimes  by  the  in- 
discretion of  his  friends — and  sensible  that  his  life  was 
wasting  in  the  gloom  of  the  old  castle,  he  had,  at  times, 
to  pass  through  awful  struggles.  In  those  days,  men 
were  much  disposed  to  carry  into  the  visible  world  the 
conflicts  that  the  soul  sustains  with  its  spiritual  ene- 
mies. Luther's  vivid  imagination  easily  gave  bodily 
shape  to  the  emotions  of  his  soul,  and  the  supersti- 
tions of  the  middle  ages  had  still  some  hold  upon  his 
mind,  so  that  it  might  be  said  of  him,  as  was  said  of 
Calvin,  in  reference  to  his  judgment  in  regard  to  here- 
tics, that  he  had  in  him  the  remains  of  popery.  To 
Luther,  Satan  was  not  simply  an  invisible,  though  re- 
ally existing  being  ;  he  thought  that  adversary  of  God 
was  accustomed  to  appear  in  bodily  form  to  man,  as  he 
had  appeared  to  Jesus  Christ.  Although  we  may  more 
than  doubt  the  authenticity  of  the  details  given  on 
buch  topics,  in  his  Table-talk  and  elsewhere,*  history 
must  yet  record  this  weakness  in  the  Reformer.  Never 
had  these  gloomy  imaginations  such  power  over  him 
as  in  his  seclusion  in  the  Wartburg.  At  Worms, 
tvhen  in  the  days  of  his  strength,  he  had  braved  the 
power  of  the  devil ;  but  now,  that  strength  was  broken, 
and  his  reputation  tarnished.  He  was  thrown  aside  ; 
Satan  had  his  turn  ;  and,  in  bitterness  of  soul,  Luther 
imagined  he  saw  him  rearing  before  him  his  gigantic 
form_lifting  his  finger,  as  if  threatening,  grinning  tri- 
umphantly, and  grinding  his  teeth  in  fearful  rage.  One 
day,  in  particular,  as  it  is  reported,  while  Luther  was 
engaged  in  translating  the  New  Testament,  he  thought 
he  saw  Satan,  in  detestation  of  his  work,  tormenting 
and  vexing  him,  and  moving  round  him,  like  a  lion, 
ready  to  spring  upon  his  prey.  Luther,  alarmed  and 
aroused,  snatching  up  his  inkstand,  threw  it  at  the  head 
of  his  enemy.  The  apparition  vanished,  and  the  ink- 
bottle  was  dashed  to  pieces  against  the  wall.f 

His  stay  at  the  Wartburg  began  now  to  be  insup- 
portable to  him.  He  was  indignant  at  the  timidity  of 
his  protectors.  Sometimes  he  remained  all  day,  lost 
in  silent  and  deep  meditation,  and,  awakening  from  it, 
he  would  utter  the  exclamation — "  Ah  !  would  I  were 
at  Wittemberg  !"  At  length  he  could  no  longer  re- 
strain himself:  "enough!"  he  thought,  "enough  of 
policy."  He  must  again  see  his  friends — hear  from 
their  lips  how  things  were  going  on,  and  talk  over  all 
with  them.  True,  he  risked  falling  into  the  power  of 
his  enemies ;  but  nothing  could  deter  him.  Toward 

»M.Michelet,  in  his  memoirs  of  Luther,  devotes  no  less 
than  thirty  pages  to  the  various  accounts  of  this  incident. 

f  The  keeper  of  the  Wartburg  regularly  points  out  to  tra- 
vellers, the  mark  made  by  Luther's  inkstand. 


the  end  of  November  he  secretly  quitted  the  Wart- 
burg, and  set  out  for  Wittemberg.* 

A  storm  had  just  then  burst  forth  against  him.  The 
Sorbonne  had  at  length  spoken  out.  This  celebrated 
school  of  Paris — next  in  authority,  in  the  church,  to 
the  pope  himself — the  ancient  and  venerable  source 
whence  theological  teaching  had  gone  forth,  had  just 
issued  its  verdict  against  the  Reformation.  The  fol- 
lowing were  among  the  propositions  it  condemned : 
Luther  had  said,  "  God  ever  pardons  sin  freely,  and 
requires  nothing  from  us  in  return,  save  that,  for  the 
time  to  come,  we  live  according  to  righteousness." 
He  had  added  :  "  The  most  mortal  of  all  mortal  sins,  is 
this — to  wit,  that  a  man  should  think  that  he  is  not 
guilty  of  damnable  and  mortal  sin  in  the  sight  of  God." 
He  had  also  declared,  that  the  practice  of  burning  he- 
retics was  contrary  to  the  will  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  To 
these  several  propositions,  as  well  as  to  many  others 
which  it  quoted,  the  Faculty  of  Theology,  in  Paris, 
had  replied  by  the  word,  "  Heresy,  let  it  be  accursed."t 

But  there  was  a  youth,  a  stripling  of  twenty-four 
years  of  age,  of  diffident  and  retiring  manners,  who 
ventured  to  take  up  the  gauntlet  that  the  first  college 
in  Europe  had  thrown  down.  It  was  no  secret  at  Wit- 
temberg, what  was  to  be  thought  of  those  lofty  cen- 
sures ;  it  was  known  that  Rome  had  allowed  free 
course  to  the  machinations  of  the  Dominicans,  and 
that  the  Sorbonne  had  been  misled  by  the  influence 
of  two  or  three  fanatical  teachers,  who  were  designated 
in  Paris  by  satirical  nicknames,  t  Accordingly,  in  his 
apology,  Melancthon  did  not  confine  himself  to  defend- 
ing Luther,  but,  with  the  fearlessness  which  character- 
ises his  writings,  he  carried  the  war  into  his  adversa- 
ries'camp.  "You  say  *heisaManichean,"heisaMon- 
tanist ;'  you  call  for  fire  and  faggot  to  repress  his  mad- 
ness. And  who,  I  pray  you,  is  Montanist  ?  Luther, 
who  would  have  men  believe  Scripture  only,  or  your- 
selves, who  would  claim  belief  for  the  thoughts  of  men 
rather  than  for  the  Word  of  God  !"§ 

And  truly,  the  attaching  more  importance  to  man's 
teaching  than  to  God's  word,  was,  in  substance,  the 
heresy  of  Montanus,  as  it  is  the  real  character  of  that 
of  the  pope,  and,  indeed,  of  all  who  rank  church  autho- 
rity, or  mystical  impulses,  above  the  plain  words  of 
the  Sacred  Writings.  Accordingly,  the  young  master 
of  arts,  who  had  been  heard  to  say—"  I  would  rather 
die  than  relinquish  the  faith  of  the  Gospel  "II—  did  not 
stop  there.  He  charged  the  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne  with 
having  darkened  the  light  of  the  Gospel,  put  out  the 
doctrine  of  Faith,  and  substituted  a  vain  philosophy  in 
place  of  true  Christianity.^  The  publication  of  this 
writing  of  Melancthon  changed  the  position  of  the  par- 
ties. He  proved,  unanswerably,  that  the  heresy  was  in 
Paris,  and  in  Rome,  and  the  Catholic  truth  at  Wit- 
temberg. 

All  this  while,  Luther,  little  regarding  the  censures  of 
the  Sorbonne,  was  journeying  in  his  disguise  as  a  knight 
toward  the  university  city.  Various  rumours  reached 
him  in  his  journey,  of  a  spirit  of  impatience  and 
insubordination  having  manifested  itself  among  cer- 
tain of  his  adherents.**  He  was  deeply  grieved  at 

*  Machete  er  sich  heimlich  aus  seiner  Patmo  auf.  (L.  Opp. 
xviii.  23S.) 

f  Determinatio  theologorum  Pansiensium  super  doctnna 
Lutherana.  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  366  to  383.) 

|  Damnarunt  triumviri  Beda,  Quercus,  et  Christophorus. 
Nomina  sunt  horum  monstrorum  etiam  vulgp  nunc  nota  Be- 
lua,  Stercus,  Christotomus.  (Zwinglii  Epp.  i.  p.  176.) 

$  Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  396.) 

||Scias  me  positurum  animam  citiusquam  fidem.  (Corp. 
Ref.  i.  p.  396.) 

f  Evangelium  obscuratum  est  .  .  .  fides  extincta  ...  Ex 
Christianisimo,  contra  omnem  sensum  spiritus,  facta  est  quae- 
dam  philosophies  vivendi  ratio.  (Ibid.  p.  400.) 

**  Per  viam  vexatus  rumore  vario  de  nostrorum  quorumdam, 
importunitate.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  109.) 


236 


THE  MONK  GABRIEL— FREDERIC'S  INTERFERENCE. 


it.*  At  last  he  arrived  at  Wittemberg,  without  having 
been  recognized  on  the  road  thither,  and  stopped  at  the 
door  of  Amsdorff.  Immediately  his  friends  were  secretly 
called  together.  Among  the  first  was  Melancthon, 
who  had  so  often  said,  "  I  would  rather  die  than  be 
separated  from  him."t  They  met.  What  an  inter- 
view !  what  joy  !  The  captive  of  the  Wartburg,  sur- 
rounded by  his  friends,  enjoyed  the  sweets  of  Chris- 
tian friendship.  He  learned  the  spread  of  the  Reform- 
ation— the  hopes  of  his  brethren — and,  delighted  with 
what  he  saw  and  heard, J  he  kneeled  down  and  prayed, 
gave  thanks,  and  then,  with  brief  delay,  set  forth,  and 
returned  to  the  Wartburg. 

His  joy  was  well  founded.  The  work  of  the  Re- 
formation made,  just  then,  a  prodigious  advance.  Feld- 
kirchen,  ever  in  the  van,  had  mounted  the  breach  ; 
the  whole  body  of  those  who  held  the  new  doctrines 
were  in  motion,  and  the  energy  which  carried  the  Re- 
formation from  the  range  of  teaching  into  the  public 
worship,  to  private  life,  and  the  constitution  of  the 
church,  revealed  itself  by  another  explosion — more 
threatening  to  the  papal  power  than  that  which  had 
already  happened. 

Rome,  having  rid  herself  of  the  Reformer,  thought 
she  had  extinguished  the  new  heresy ;  but  it  was  not 
long  before  a  great  change  took  place.  Death  removed 
the  pontiff  who  had  put  Luther  under  ban.  Troubles 
broke  out  in  Spain,  and  compelled  Charles  V.  to  re- 
cross  the  Pyrenees.  War  was  declared  between  that 
prince  and  Francis  the  First ;  and,  (as  if  this  were 
not  enough  to  engross  the  emperor's  attention,)  So- 
lyman  invaded  Hungary.  Charles,  thus  attacked 
on  all  sides,  found  himself  compelled  to  leave  un- 
molested the  monk  of  Worms,  and  his  religious  no- 
velties. 

It  was  about  this  time,  that  the  bark  of  the  reformed 
faith,  which,  driven  in  every  direction  by  the  winds, 
had  been  well-nigh  swamped,  righted  itself,  and  rode 
above  the  waters. 

It  was  in  the  convent  of  the  Augustines,  at  Wit- 
temberg, that  the  Reformation  showed  itself.  We 
cannot  wonder  at  this.  The  Reformer,  it  is  true,  was 
not  within  its  walls,  but  no  human  power  could  expel 
from  it  the  spirit  that  had  animated  him. 

Strange  doctrines  had,  for  some  time,  been  occasi- 
onally heard  in  the  church  where  Luther  had  so  often 
preached.  A  zealous  monk,  who  filled  the  office  of 
college  preacher,  loudly  urged  on  his  hearers  the  ne- 
cessity of  a  Reformation.  As  if  Luther,  whose  name 
was  on  every  one's  lips,  had  reached  too  commanding 
an  elevation  and  esteem,  God  seemed  to  be  making 
choice  of  men,  no  way  known  for  any  strength  of  cha- 
racter or  influence,  to  bring  in  the  Reformation,  for 
•which  the  renowned  doctor  had  opened  a  way.  "  Christ," 
said  the  preacher,"  instituted  the  Sacrament  of  the  Al- 
tar, in  remembrance  of  his  death,  and  not  to  make  it 
an  object  of  worship.  To  bow  down  to  it  is  idolatry. 
The  priest  who  communicates  alone,  or  in  private,  is 
guilty  of  a  sin.  No  prior  has  the  right  to  require  a 
monk  to  say  mass  alone.  Let  one,  two,  or  three,  offi- 
ciate, and  all  the  rest  receive  the  Lord's  Sacrament 
under  both  kinds."$ 

Such  was  the  change  called  for  by  the  monk,  Gabriel ; 
and  his  bold  words  were  heard  with  approbation  by  his 
brother  monks,  particularly  those  who  came  from  the 

»  Liess  in  der  stille  seine  Freunde  fodern.  (L.  Opp.  xviii. 
p.  238.) 

t  Quo  si  mihi  carendum  est,  mortium  fortius  tulero.  (Corn 
Ref.  i.  p.  453-453.) 

\  Omnia  vehementer  plaoent  quae  video  et  audio.   (L.  Epp. 

§  Einem  2  oder  3  lefehlen  Mess  zu  halten  und  die  andern 
12  von  denendas  Sacrament  sub  utraque  specie  mil  empfahen. 
(Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  450.) 


Low  Countries.*  As  disciples  of  the  Gospel,  why 
should  they  not  conform,  in  everything,  to  its  direc- 
tions 1  Had  not  Luther  himself,  in  writing  to  Melanc- 
thon, in  the  month  of  August,  remarked—"  Henceforth, 
I  will  say  no  more  private  masses  ?"f  Thus,  the  friars, 
the  very  soldiers  of  the  hierarchy,  when  made  free  by 
the  Word  of  God,  boldly  took  part  against  Rome. 

In  Wittemberg,  they  encountered  an  unbending  re- 
sistance  from  the  prior,  and  here  they  yielded — at  the 
same  time  protesting,  that  to  support  the  mass,  was  to 
oppose  the  Gospel  of  God. 

The  prior  had  carried  the  day.  One  man's  autho- 
rity had  prevailed  over  all  the  rest.  It  might  have  been 
thought  that  this  stir  among  the  Augustines  was  but 
a  capricious  act  of  insubordination,  such  as  was  often 
occurring  in  the  convents  ;  but,  in  reality,  the  Spirit  of 
God  itself  was  then  moving  Christian  hearts.  A  sin- 
gle voice,  proceeding  from  the  seclusion  of  a  monas- 
tery, found  a  thousand  echoes ;  and  that  which  men 
would  have  confined  to  the  knowledge  of  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  convent,  spread  beyond  its  walls,  and  began 
to  show  itself  in  the  heart  of  the  city. 

Rumours  of  the  differences  among  the  monks  were 
soon  circulated  in  the  town  :  the  burghers  and  stu- 
dents sided,  some  with,  and  others  against,  the  mass. 
The  elector's  court  interposed.  Frederic,  in  some  sur- 
prise, despatched  his  Chancellor,  Pontanus,  to  Wit- 
temberg, with  orders  to  reduce  the  monks  to  obedience, 
putting  them,  if  necessary,  upon  bread  and  water  ;$ 
and,  on  the  12th  of  October,  a  deputation  of  professors, 
among  whom  was  Melancthon,  repairing  to  the  con- 
vent, exhorted  the  monks  to  desist  from  all  innova- 
tions,$  or,  at  least  to  wait  the  course  of  events.  This 
did  but  rekindle  their  zeal ;  and  all,  with  exception  of 
their  prior,  being  of  one  mind  in  their  faith,  they  ap- 
pealed to  Scripture,  to  the  spiritual  discernment  of 
believers,  and  to  the  impartial  judgment  of  divines—- 
and two  days  after,  handed  in  a  declaration  in  writing. 

The  professors  proceeded  to  examine  the  question 
more  closely,  and  perceived  that  the  monks  had  truth 
on  their  side.  Having  come  to  convince  others,  they 
were  convinced  themselves  !  What  was  to  be  done  ? 
Conscience  pleaded — their  perplexity  was  continually 
increasing ;  and,  at  last,  after  long  hesitation,  they 
came  to  a  courageous  decision. 

On  the  20th  of  October,  the  University  reported  to 
the  elector,  after  setting  forth  the  abuses  of  the  mass : 
"  Let  your  Electoral  Highness,"  said  they,  "  put  an 
end  to  all  corruptions ;  lest,  in  the  day  of  judgment, 
Christ  should  apply  to  us  the  rebukes  he  once  pro- 
nounced upon  Capernaum." 

Thus  it  was  no  longer  a  handful  of  obscure  monks 
who  spoke — it  was  the  University,  accredited  by  the 
most  judicious,  as  having,  for  years  past,  been  the  great 
school  of  national  instruction  :  and  thus,  the  very 
agency  employed  to  quell  the  spirit  of  the  Reformation, 
was  about  to  diffuse  it  far  and  wide. 

Melancthon,  with  that  decision  which  he  carried  in- 
to learning,  put  forth  fifty- five  propositions  calculated 
to  enlighten  the  minds  of  enquirers. 

"  Just,"  said  he,  as  gazing  on  a  cross  is  no  good 
work,  but  the  bare  contemplation  of  a  sign  that  reminds 
us  of  Christ's  death." 

"  Just  as  to  behold  the  sun  is  not  to  do  any  good 
work,  but  merely  to  look  upon  that  which  reminds  u» 
of  Christ  and  his  Gospel." 

"So,  to  partake  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  is  not  to  do  a 
good  work,  but  merely  to  make  use  of  a  sign  which 
*  DermeisteTheiljener  Parthaei  Niederlsender  seyn.  Ib.  476. 

f  Sed  et  ego  amplius  non  faciam  missam  privatim  in  seter- 
ira.        L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  36. 

I  Wollen  die  Monche  nicht  Mess  halten,  sie  werden's  bald 
in  der  Kiichen  und  keller  empnnden.    (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  461.) 
§  Mit  dem  Messhalten  keine  Neuerung  machen.  (Ibid.) 


FREDERIC'S  CAUTION— ATTACK  ON  MONKERY— MONKS  QUIT  THE  CONVENT.  237 


recalls  to  remembrance  the  grace  bestowed  upon  us 
through  Christ." 

"  But  here  is  the  difference  ;  namely,  that  the  sym- 
bols invented  by  men  do  only  remind  us  of  what  they 
signify— 'While  the  signs  given  by  God,  not  merely  re- 
call the  things  themselves,  but  assure  our  hearts  in  the 
will  of  God." 

44  As  the  sight  of  a  cross  does  not  justify,  so  the 
mass  cannot  justify." 

44  As  the  gazing  on  a  cross  is  no  sacrifice  for  our  own 
or  others'  sins,  just  so  the  mass  is  no  sacrifice." 

44  There  is  but  one  sacrifice — but  one  satisfaction — 
Jesus  Christ.  Beside  him  there  is  none  other." 

"  Let  such  bishops  as  do  not  withstand  the  profana- 
tions of  the  mass,  be  anathema  "* 

Thus  spake  the  pious  and  gentle- spirited  Philip. 

The  Elector  was  astounded.  His  intention  had 
been  to  restore  order  among  a  few  refractory  friars, 
and  lo  !  the  entire  University,  with  Melancthon  at  their 
head,  stand  up  to  defend  them  To  wait  the  course 
of  events  was,  ordinarily,  in  his  view,  the  most  eligible 
course.  He  had  no  relish  for  abrupt  changes,  and  it 
was  his  wish  that  all  opinions  should  be  left  to  work 
their  own  way.  "  Time  alone,"  thought  he,  44  throws 
light  upon  all  things,  and  brings  all  to  maturity."  And 
yet  the  Reformation  was  advancing,  in  spite  of  all  his 
caution,  with  rapid  strides,  and  threatened  to  carry 
all  before  it.  Frederic  made  indeed  some  efforts  to 
arrest  it.  His  authority — the  influence  of  his  personal 
character — and  such  arguments  as  appeared  to  him 
most  conclusive,  were  all  called  into  exercise:  "Do 
not  be  hasty,"  said  he,  to  the  divines,  44  you  are  too 
few  in  number  to  effect  such  a  change.  If  it  is  well 
founded  in  Scripture,  others  will  be  led  to  see  it,  and 
you  will  have  the  whole  Church  with  you  in  putting 
an  end  to  these  corruptions.  Speak  of  these  things — 
discuss  and  preach  them  as  much  as  you  will,  but  keep 
up  the  established  services." 

Such  was  the  war  waged  relative  to  the  mass.  The 
monks  had  boldly  mounted  to  the  assault — the  divines, 
after  a  moment  of  indecision,  had  supported  them. — 
The  prince  and  his  counsellors  alone  defended  the  ci- 
tadel. It  has  been  said,  that  the  Reformation  was 
brought  about  by  the  power  and  authority  of  the  elec- 
tor ;  but,  so  far  from  this  being  the  case,  we  see  the 
assailants  drawing  off  their  forces,  in  deference  to  the 
voice  of  the  revered  Frederic,  and  the  mass,  for  a  while, 
continuing  to  hold  its  place. 

The  heat  of  battle  was  already  beginning  to  rage  in 
another  part  of  the  field.  The  monk,  Gabriel,  did  not 
relax  in  his  fervid  appeals  from  the  pulpit  of  the  Au- 
gustines. It  was  against  the  condition  of  monkery 
itself  he  now  dealt  his  powerful  strokes ;  and,  if  the 
strength  of  Romish  doctrines  was  principally  in  the 
mass,  the  monastic-  order  formed  the  main  support  of 
her  priestly  hierarchy.  Hence,  these  two  posts  were 
the  first  to  be  stormed.  "  No  one,"  exclaimed  Gabriel, 
according  to  the  prior's  report,  '4  not  even  a  single  in- 
mate of  a  convent,  keeps  God's  commandments." 

"  No  one  who  wears  a  cowl  can  be  saved. t  Whoso 
enters  a  cloister,  enters  into  the  service  of  the  Devil. 
Vows  of  chastity,  poverty,  and  obedience  to  a  superior, 
are  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel." 

These  strange  expressions  were  reported  to  the 
prior,  who  took  care  not  to  be  present  in  church  to 
hear  them. 

44  Gabriel,"  said  his  informants,  "  Gabriel  insists  that 
every  possible  means  should  be  taken  to  clear  out  the 

'Signaab  hominibus  reperta  admonent  tantum  ;  signa  a 
Deo  tradita,  praeterquam  quod  admonent,  certificant  etiam  cor 
de  voluntate  Dei.  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  478.) 

t  Kein  monch  verde  in  der  Kappe  selig.  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p. 
433.) 


cloisters  ;  that,  when  the  friars  are  met  in  the  street, 
hey  should  be  twitched  by  the  cloak,  and  pointed  out 
to  ridicule  ;  and  that,  if  that  does  not  rout  them  from 
their  convent,  they  should  be  expelled  by  main  force. 
He  cries,  '  break  open  the  monasteries,  destroy  them, 
raze  them  to  their  foundations,  that  no  trace  of  them 
may  remain,  and  that,  on  the  ground  they  cover,  not 
one  stone  may  be  left  of  walls  that  have  sheltered  such 
sloth  and  superstition.'  "* 

The  friars  were  astonished  ;  their  consciences  whis- 
pered that  the  charge  brought  against  them  was  but 
too  true : — that  the  life  of  a  monk  was  not  agreeable 
to  the  will  of  God  : — and  that  no  man  could  have  a 
claim  to  their  implicit  and  unlimited  obedience. 

In  one  day,  thirteen  Augustine  monks  quitted  the 
convent,  and,  throwing  aside  the  habit  of  their  order, 
assumed  the  dress  of  the  laity.  Such  of  them  as  had 
the  advantage  of  instruction  continued  their  course  of 
study,  in  the  hope  of  .being  one  day  useful  to  the 
Church ;  and  such  as  had  profited  little  by  study,  sought 
a  livelihood  by  working  with  their  own  hands,  according 
to  the  precept  of  the  Apostle,  and  after  the  example 
of  the  worthy  burghers  of  Wittemberg.t  One,  who 
had  some  knowledge  of  carpentry,  applied  for  the  free- 
dom of  the  city,  resolving  to  marry  and  settle. 

If  Luther's  entrance  into  the  convent  of  the  Augus- 
tines,  at  Erfurth,  had  laid  the  seeds  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, the  departure  of  the  thirteen  monks  from  the  con* 
vent  of  the  Augustines  of  Wittemberg  was  the  signal 
of  its  taking  possession  of  the  nations  of  Christendom. 
For  a  period  of  thirty  years,  Erasmus  had  exposed  the 
unprofitableness,  fatuity,  and  vices,  of  the  friars ;  and 
all  Europe  had  gone  with  him  in  his  ridicule  and  con- 
tempt. Thirteen  men  of  resolute  character  returned  to 
their  place  in  society  : — and  there,  in  service  to  their 
fellow  men,  sought  to  fulfil  God's  commandments. 
The  marriage  of  Fcldkirchen  was  one  of  humiliation 
to  the  hierarchy : — the  emancipation  of  these  thirteen 
Augustines  followed  close  upon  it,  as  a  second.  Monk- 
ery, which  had  established  itself  in  the  day  when  the 
Church  entered  on  her  long  period  of  bondage  and  er- 
ror, was  doomed  to  fall  whenever  the  time  came  which 
should  restore  liberty  and  truth. 

This  bold  step  occasioned  a  general  ferment  in 
Wittemberg.  All  marvelled  at  the  men  who  thus 
came  forward  to  share  the  labours  of  the  common 
people,  and  welcomed  them  as  brethren  : — at  the  same 
time,  cries  were  heard  against  those  who  obstinately 
clung  to  their  indolent  seclusion  within  the  walls  of 
their  monastery.  The  monks,  who  adhered  to  the 
prior,  trembled  in  their  cells,  and  the  prior  himself, 
carried  away  by  the  general  feeling,  suspended  the  per- 
formance of  private  masses. 

In  a  moment  so  critical,  the  least  concession  neces- 
sarily precipitated  the  course  of  events.  The  order 
issued  by  the  Prior  caused  a  strong  sensation  in  the 
town  and  in  the  University,  and  produced  an  unfore- 
seen explosion.  Among  the  students  and  burghers  of 
Wittemberg,  were  some  of  those  turbulent  spirits 
whom  the  least  excitement  inflames,  and  urges  to  cri- 
minal excesses.  These  men  were  indignant  that  the 
same  masses,  which  were  suspended  by  the  devout 
Prior,  should  still  be  performed  in  the  parish  church  ; 
and  on  the  3d  December,  as  mass  was  about  to  be 
chaunted,  they  suddenly  made  their  way  to  the  altar, 
bore  off  the  books,  and  compelled  the  officiating  priests 
to  seek  safety  in  flight.  The  Council  and  the  University 
assembled  to  take  severe  measures  against  the  author* 
of  these  disturbances.  But  the  passions,  once  roused, 

*  Dass  man  nicht  oben  Stuck  von  ernem  Kloster  da  sey  ges- 
tanden,  merken  moge.  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  483.) 

j  "  Etliche  unter  den  Burgern,etliche  unter  den  Studeu- 
ten,"  said  the  prior,  in  his  address  to  the  elector.  (Ibid.) 


238       CORDELIERS  THREATENED— CARLSTADT'S  ZEAL— THE  LORD'S  SUPPER. 


are  not  easily  calmed.  The  Cordeliers  had  taken  no 
part  in  the  Reformation  that  had  begun  to  show  itself 
among  the  Augustines.  Next  day  the  students  affixed 
to  the  gates  of  their  monastery  a  threatening  placard. 
Soon  after,  forty  of  their  number  forced  their  way  into 
the  chapel,  and  without,  proceeding  to  violence,  gave 
such  free  expression  to  their  ridicule,  that  the  monks 
dared  not  proceed  with  the  mass.  In  the  evening, 
notice  came  advising  the  friars  to  be  on  their  guard. 
"The  students,'*  it  was  said,  "  have  planned  to  break 
into  the  monastery."  The  monks  in  alarm,  and  seeing 
no  way  of  defence  against  these  real  or  supposed  at- 
tacks, sent  in  haste  to  ask  protection  of  the  Council. 
Soldiers  were  placed  on  guard,  but  the  enemy  did  not 
make  his  appearance.  The  University  arrested  the 
students  who  had  taken  part  in  these  disturbances. 
They  were  found  to  be  from  Erfurth,  and  already  noted 
for  their  insubordination.*  The  penalty  annexed  to 
their  offence  by  the  laws  of  the  University  was  impos- 
ed upon  them. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  felt  that  a  necessity  had  arisen 
for  a  careful  examination  of  the  lawfulness  of  monas- 
tic vows.  A  chapter  composed  of  the  Augustine  monks 
of  Thuringen  and  Misnia,  assembled  at  Wittemberg 
in  December  following.  Luther's  judgment  was  ac- 
quiesced in.  They  declared,  on  the  one  hand,  that 
monastic  vows  were  not  sinful,  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  they  were  not  obligatory.  "  In  Christ,"  said  they, 
"  there  is  neither  laymen  nor  monk — each  one  is  free 
to  leave  the  monastery  or  to  abide  in  it.  Let  whoever 
leaves  it,  beware  how  he  abuses  his  liberty  ;  let  him 
who  abides  in  it,  obey  his  superiors — but  with  the 
obedience  of  love  ;"  and  they  pro'ceeded  to  prohibit 
mendicity,  and  the  saying  masses  for  money  ;  they 
also  determined  that  the  more  instructed  monks  should 
devote  themselves  to  teaching  the  word  of  God,  and 
that  the  rest  should  labour  with  their  own  hands  for 
the  support  of  their  brethren.! 

Thus  the  question  of  Vows  seemed  to  be  settled, 
but  that  of  the  Mass  was  still  undecided.  The  Elec- 
tor continued  to  oppose  the  stream,  and  to  defend  an 
institution  which  he  saw  still  standing  in  every  nation 
where  Christianity  was  professed.  The  moderation 
of  this  mild  sovereign  could  not,  however,  for  any 
length  of  time,  hold  in  the  public  mind.  Carlstadt, 
above  all,  took  part  in  the  general  ferment.  Zealous, 
upright,  and  fearless  ;  prompt,  like  Luther,  to  sacrifice 
everything  for  the  truth ;  he  had  not  the  Reformer's 
wisdom  and  moderation  :  he  was  not  free  from  vanity  ; 
and  with  a  disposition  that  led  him  to  go  deeply  into 
every  question,  he  yet  had  but  little  power  of  judgment 
and  no  great  clearness  of  ideas.  Luther  had  delivered 
him  from  the  teaching  of  the  schools,  and  had  led  htm 
to  study  the  Scriptures  ;  but  Carlstadt  had  not  had 
patience  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  original  lan- 
guages, and  had  not,  as  his  friend  had  done,  acknow- 
ledged the  sufficiency  of  God's  word.  Hence  he  was 
often  taken  up  with  singular  interpretations.  As  long 
as  Luther  was  at  his  side,  the  influence  of  the  master 
restrained  the  disciple  within  due  bounds  ;  but  Carl- 
stadt was  freed  from  this  wholesome  restraint.  In  the 
university — in  the  chapel — throughout  Wittemberg — 
the  little  tawny-complexioned  Carlstadt,  who  had  never 
excelled  in  eloquence,  gave  utterance  to  thoughts,  at 
times,  profound,  but  often  enthusiastic  and  exaggerat- 
ed. uWhat  infatuated  folly  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  for 
men  to  think  that  the  Reformation  must  be  left  to 
God's  working.  A  new  order  of  things  is  opening. 
The  strength  of  man  must  be  brought  in,  and  woe  to 

*  In  summa  es  sollen  die  Aufruhr  etliche  Studenten  von 
Erffurth  erwerckt  haben.  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  490.) 

t  Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  456. — The  editors  assign  to  this  decree  the 
date  of  October,  before  the  monks  had  forsaken  their  con- 
vent. 


him  who  shall  hold  back  instead  of  mounting  the  breach 
in  the  cause  of  the  mighty  God  !" 

The  Archdeacon's  speech  communicated  his  own 
impatience  to  his  auditory.  "  Whatever  the  Pope  ha» 
set  up  is  impious,"  exclaimed  some  men  of  sincere 
and  upright  minds,  under  the  influence  of  his  harangues. 
"  Let  us  not  make  ourselves  accomplices  in  these 
abominations  by  allowing  them  to  exist.  That  which 
God's  word  condemns  ought  to  be  swept  from  the 
face  of  Christendom,  without  regarding  the  command- 
ments of  men.  If  the  heads  of  the  state  and  of  the 
church  will  not  do  their  duty,  let  us  at  least  do  ours.  Let 
us  leave  thinking  of  negociation,  conferences,  theses, 
and  discussions,  and  let  us  apply  the  true  remedy  to 
so  many  evils.  We  want  a  second  Elijah  to  throw 
down  the  altars  of  Baal  !" 

The  restoration  of  the  Supper  of  the  Lord,  in  this 
moment  of  ferment  and  enthusiastic  excitement,  could 
not,  doubtless,  wear  that  character  of  solemnity  and 
sacredness  which  was  given  to  it  by  the  Son  of  God  m 
his  institution  of  it  "  the  night  that  he  was  betrayed." 
But  if  God  was  now  using  the  weakness  and  passions 
of  men,  it  was  not  the  less  His  own  hand  which  was 
engaged  in  re-establishing  in  the  midst  of  His  church 
the  feast  of  His  own  love. 

As  early  as  the  October  previous,  Carlstadt  had 
privately  celebrated  the  Lord's  Supper  according  to 
Christ's  appointment,  with  twelve  of  his  friends.  On 
the  Sunday  before  Christmas  Day,  he  announced  from 
the  pulpit  that,  on  New  Year's  Day,  he  would  distri- 
bute the  elements  under  the  two  kinds  bread  and  wine 
to  all  who  should  come  to  the  altar  ;  that  he  intended 
to  omit  all  unnecessary  ceremonies,*  and  should  per- 
form the  service  without  cope  or  chasuble. 

The  Council,  in  perturbation,  requested  the  coun- 
sellor Bergen  to  interfere,  and  prevent  so  disorderly  a 
proceeding,  whereupon  Carlstadt  resolved  not  to  wait 
the  time  fixed.  On  Christmas  Day,  1521,  he  preach- 
ed, in  the  parochial  church,  on  the  duty  of  abandoning 
the  mass,  and  receiving  the  sacrament  under  both 
kinds.  The  sermon  being  ended,  he  came  down,  took 
his  place  at  the  altar,  and  after  pronouncing,  in  Ger- 
man, the  words  of  institution,  said  solemnly,  turning 
toward  the  people — "  If  any  one  feels  the  burthen  of 
his  sins,  and  is  hungering  and  thirsting  for  the  grace 
of  God,  let  him  draw  near,  and  receive  the  body  and 
blood  of  the  Lord."t  Then,  without  elevating  the 
host,  he  distributed  to  each  one  the  bread,  and  wine, 
saying,  "  This  is  the  cup  of  my  blood,  the  blood  of  the 
new  and  everlasting  covenant." 

Conflicting  feelings  reigned  in  the  assembly.  Somer 
in  the  sense  that  a  further  grace  of  God  was  given  to 
the  church,  drew  near  the  altar  in  silent  emotion. 
Others,  attracted  principally  by  the  novelty  of  the  oc- 
casion, approached  in  some  confusion,  and  with  a  kind 
of  impatience.  Not  more  than  five  communicants  had 
presented  themselves  in  the  confessional — the  rest 
took  part  only  in  the  public  confession  of  sins.  Carl- 
stadt gave  to  all  the  general  absolution,  laying  upon 
them  no  other  penance  than  this — "  Sin  no  more." — 
In  conclusion,  the  communicants  sang  the  Agnus 
Dei.l 

Carlstadt  met  with  no  opposition.  The  changes 
we  are  narrating  had  already  obtained  general  concur- 
rence. The  archdeacon  administered  the  Lord's  sup- 
per again  on  New-year's  day,  and  also  on  the  Sunday 
following,  and,  from  that  time,  the  regular  observance 
of  it  was  kept  up.  Einsideln,  one  of  the  elector's 

*  Und  die  anderen  Schirymstege  alle  aussen  lassen.  (Corp- 
Ref.  i.  p.  512.) 

f  Wer  mit  Snnden  beschwert  und  nach  der  Gnade  Gottes 
hungnig  und  durstig.  (Ibid.  p.  540.) 

{  Wcnn  man  communicirt  hat,  so  singt  man  :  Jlgnus  Dei 
carmen.  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  640.) 


ERRORS  OF  POPERY— FANATICS  OF  ZWICKAU— NEW  PROPHETS. 


239 


council,  having  rebuked  Carlstadt  for  seeking  his  own 
exaltation,  rather  than  the  salvation  of  his  hearers  : — 
"  Noble  sir !"  answered  he,  "  I  would  meet  death  in 
any  form,  rather  than  desist  from  following  the  Scrip- 
ture. The  word  has  come  to  me  so  quick  and  power- 
ful ....  woe  is  me  if  I  do  not  preach."*  Soon 
after  this,  Carlstadt  married. 

In  the  month  of  January,  the  town-council  of  Wit- 
temberg  issued  regulations  for  the  celebration  of  the 
Supper,  according  to  the  amended  ritual.  Steps  were 
also  taken  to  restore  the  influence  of  religion  upon 
public  morals  ;  for  it  was  the  office  of  the  Reforma- 
tion to  re-establish,  simultaneously,  faith,  Christian 
worship,  and  general  morality.  It  was  decreed  that 
public  beggars  should  be  no  longer  tolerated,  whether 
friars  or  others  ;  and  that  in  each  street,  some  man, 
well-reported  of  for  piety,  should  be  commissioned  to 
take  care  of  the  poor,  and  to  summon  before  the  uni- 
versity or  the  council  such  as  were  guilty  of  disor- 
ders.! 

So  fell  that  grand  bulwark  of  Romish  dominion — 
the  mass.  Thus  it  was  that  the  Reformation  passed 
beyond  the  sphere  of  teaching,  into  that  of  public  wor- 
ship. For  three  centuries,  the  mass  and  the  doctrine 
of  transubstantiation,  had  been  regularly  established. $ 
Throughout  that  long  period,  all  things  within  the 
church  had  a  new  tendency  impressed  upon  them,  and 
everything  conspired  to  favour  the  pride  of  man,  and 
the  honour  paid  to  the  priest.  The  holy  sacrament 
had  been  adored — regular  festivals  had  been  instituted 
in  honour  of  the  most  stupendous  of  miracles — the 
worship  of  Mary  had  risen  high  in  the  scale  of  public 
estimation — the  priest,  who,  in  the  consecration  of 
the  elements,  was  supposed  to  receive  mysterious 
power  to  change  them  into  the  very  body  of  Christ, 
had  been  separated  from  the  class  of  laity,  and,  to  use 
the  words  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  had  become  a  'medi- 
ator between  God  and  man'§ — celibacy  had  been  pro- 
claimed as  an  inviolable  law — auricular  confession  was 
enforced  upon  the  people,  and  the  cup  of  blessing  de- 
nied them — for  how,  indeed,  should  common  people 
be  ranged  on  the  same  line  with  priests,  honoured  with 
the  most  solemn  of  all  ministrations  1  The  mass  cast 
reproach  upon  the  Son  of  God  ;  it  was  opposed  to  the 
perfect  remission  through  his  cross,  and  the  spotless 
glory  of  his  everlasting  kingdom.  But  whilst  it  dispa- 
raged the  glory  of  the  Lord,  it  exalted  the  priest — 
whom  it  invested  with  the  inconceivable  power  of  re- 
producing, in  hand,  and  at  will,  the  Sovereign  Crea- 
tor of  all  things  !!!  Thenceforward  the  church  seemed 
to  exist — not  to  preach  the  Gospel,  but  only  to  repro- 
duce Christ  in  the  flesh  !  The  Roman  pontiff,  whose 
obedient  vassals,  at  their  pleasure,  created  the  body  of 
God  himself — took  his  seat  as  God,  in  the  temple  of 
God,  and  asserted  his  claim  to  a  spiritual  treasury, 
from  whence  to  draw  forth,  at  will,  indulgences  for  the 
pardon  of  men's  sins. 

Such  were  the  gross  errors  which,  for  a  period  of 
three  centuries,  had  established  themselves  in  the 
church,  in  connection  with  the  mass.  The  Reforma- 
tion, by  abolishing  this  thing  of  man's  setting  up, 
swept  away  all  the  abuses  blended  with  it.  The  pro- 
ceeding of  the  archdeacon  was,  therefore,  full  of  im- 
portant results.  The  costly  shows  that  amused  the 
people,  the  worship  of  the  Virgin,  the  pride  of  the 
clergy,  and  the  papal  authority,  were  all  shaken.  The 

*  Mir  ist  das  Wort  fast  in  grosser  Geschwindigkeit  eingefal- 
len.  (Ibid.  p.  545.) 

f  Keinen  offenbareu  Sunder  zu  dulden  ....  (Ibid.  p.  540.) 

j  By  the  Council  of  Lateran,  in  1215. 

f$  Sacerdots  constituitur  medius  inter  Deum  et  populum. 
(Th.  Aquin.  Summaiii.  p.  22.) 

(i  Perfectio  hnjus  sacramenti  non  est  in  usu  fidelium,  sed 
la  consecratione  materise.  (Th.  Aquin.  Summa,  Quest.  80.) 


glory  was  withdrawn  from  the  priests,  and  returned  to 
rest  on  Jesus — and  the  Reformation  advanced  a  step 
farther. 

Nevertheless,  prejudiced  observers  might  have  seen, 
nothing  in  all  that  was  going  on,  but  what  might  be 
deemed  the  effect  of  passing  enthusiasm.  Facts  were 
needed,  that  should  give  proof  of  the  contrary,  and 
demonstrate  that  there  was  a  deep  and  broad  distinc- 
tion between  a  Reformation  based  on  God's  word  and 
any  mere  fanatical  excitement. 

Whenever  a  great  ferment  is  working  in  the  church, 
some  impure  elements  are  sure  to  mingle  with  the  tes- 
timony given  to  truth ;  and  some  one  or  more  pretended 
reforms  arise  out  of  man's  imagination,  and  serve  as 
evidences  or  countersigns  of  some  real  reformation  in 
progress.  Thus,  many  false  messiahs,  in  the  first  cen- 
tury of  the  church,  were  an  evidence  that  the  true 
Messiah  had  already  come.  The  Reformation  of  the 
sixteenth  century  could  not  run  its  course  without  pre- 
senting the  like  phenomenon,  and  it  was  first  exhibited 
in  the  little  village  of  Zwickau. 

There  were  dwelling  at  Zwickau  a  few  men  who, 
being  deeply  moved  by  the  events  passing  around  them, 
looked  for  special  and  direct  revelations  from  the  De- 
ity, instead  of  desiring,  in  meekness  and  simplicity, 
the  sanctification  of  their  affections.  These  persons 
asserted  that  they  were  commissioned  to  complete 
that  Reformation  which,  in  their  view,  Luther  had  but 
feebly  begun.  "  What  is  the  use,"  asked  they,  "  of 
such  close  application  to  the  Bible  1  Nothing  is  heard 
of  but  the  Bible.  Can  the  Bible  preach  to  us  1  Can 
it  suffice  for  our  instruction  1  If  God  had  intended  to 
instruct  us  by  a  book,  would  he  not  have  given  us  a  Bible* 
direct  from  heaven  1  It  is  only  the  Spirit  that  can  enlight- 
en. God  himself  speaks  to  us,  and  shows  us  what  to  do 
and  say."  Thus  did  these  fanatics,  playing  into  the 
hands  of  Rome,  impugn  the  fundamental  principle  on 
which  the  whole  Reformation  is  based — namely,  the 
perfect  sufficiency  of  the  Word  of  God. 

Nicolas  Storch,  a  weaver,  publicly  declared  that 
the  angel  Gabriel  had  appeared  to  him  by  night,  and, 
after  revealing  to  him  matters  he  was  not  allowed  to 
divulge,  had  uttered  the  words  :  "  Thou  shall  sit  on 
my  throne."*  A  senior  student  of  Wittemberg,  named 
Mark  Stubner,  joined  Storch,  and  forthwith  abandoned 
his  studies — for,  according  to  his  own  statement,  he 
had  received,  immediately  from  God,  the  ability  to  in- 
terpret holy  Scripture.  Mark  Thomas,  also  a  weaver,  as- 
sociated himself  with  them ;  and  another  of  the  initiat- 
ed, byname  Thomas  Munzer,a  man  of  fanatical  turn  of 
mind,  gave  to  the  new  sect  a  regular  organization.  Re- 
solving to  act  according  to  the  example  of  Christ, 
Storch  chose,  from  among  his  followers,  twelve  apos- 
tles and  seventy  disciples.  All  these  loudly  proclaimed, 
as  we  have  lately  heard  it  asserted  by  a  sect  of  our 
own  days,  that  apostles  and  prophets  were  at  last  re- 
stored to  the  church,  t 

Ere  long  the  new  prophets,  in  accordance  with 
this  plan  of  adhering  to  the  example  of  those  of  holy 
writ,  began  to  declare  their  mission.  "  Woe  !  woe  !" 
they  exclaimed,  "  a  church  under  human  governors, 
corrupted  like  the  bishops,  cannot  be  the  church  of 
Christ.  The  ungodly  rulers  of  Christendom  will  soon 
be  cast  down.  In  five,  six,  or  seven  years,  a  time  of 
universal  desolation  will  come  upon  the  earth.  The 
Turk  will  get  possession  of  Germany ;  the  clergy, 
not  even  excepting  those  who  have  married,  shall  bo 
slain.  The  ungodly  sinners  shall  all  be  destroyed  ; 
and  when  the  earth  shall  have  been  purified  by  blood, 

*  Advolasse  Gabrielem  Angelum.  (Camerarii  Vita  Melanc- 
thonis,  p.  48.) 

t  Breviter,  de  sese  praedicant,  viros  esse  propheticos  et  apoa- 
tolico».  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  614.) 


240 


NICOLAS  HAUSSMAN— MELANCTHON  AND  STUBNER. 


supreme  power  shall  be  given  to  Storch,  to  install  the 
saints  in  the  government  of  the  earth.*  Then  shall 
there  be  one  faith  and  one  baptism  !  The  day  of  the 
Lord  draweth  nigh,  and  the  end  of  all  things  is  at 
hand  :  Woe  !  woe  !  woe  !"  Then,  pnblicly  declaring 
that  infant  baptism  was  of  no  avail,  the  new  prophets 
called  upon  all  to  draw  near,  and  receive  at  their  hands 
a  true  baptism,  in  token  of  their  entrance  into  the  new 
church  of  God. 

Such  preaching  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  po- 
pular mind.  Not  a  few  devout  persons  were  startled 
by  the  thought  that  prophets  were  again  given  to  the 
church,  and  those  on  whom  the  love  of  the  marvellous 
bad  most  power,  threw  themselves  into  the  open  arms 
of  the  eccentric  preachers  of  Zwickau. 

But  scarcely  had  this  heresy,  which  had  shown  itself 
of  old  in  the  days  of  Montanism,  and  again  in  the  mid- 
dle ages,  drawn  together  a  handful  of  separatists,  when 
it  encountered,  in  the  Reformation,  a  strong  opposing 
power.  Nicolas  Haussman,  to  whom  Luther  gave 
that  noble  testimony,  "  What  we  teach,  he  ac£s,"t  was 
at  this  time  pastor  of  Zwickau.  This  good  man  was 
not  led  away  by  the  pretensions  of  the  false  prophets. 
Supported  by  his  two  deacons,  he  successfully  resisted 
the  innovations  Storch  and  his  followers  were  seeking 
to  introduce.  The  fanatics,  repelled  by  the  pastors  of 
the  church,  fell  into  another  extravagance  ;  they  formed 
meetings,  in  which  doctrines  subversive  of  order  were 
publicly  preached.  The  people  caught  the  infection, 
and  disturbances  were  the  consequence.  A  priest, 
bearing  the  sacrament,  was  pelted  with  stones  ;t  and 
the  civil  authority  interfering  committed  the  most  vio- 
lent of  the  party  to  prison. §  Indignant  at  this  treat- 
ment, and  intent  upon  justifying  themselves,  and  ob- 
taining redress,  Storch,  Mark  Thomas,  and  Stubner, 
repaired  to  Wittemberg.H 

They  arrived  on  the  27th  December,  1521.  Storch, 
heading  the  way,  with  the  port  and  bearing  of  a  Lanz- 
knecht,1T  and  Mark  Thomas  and  Stubner  following  be- 
hind. The  disorder  that  reigned  in  Wittemberg  was 
favourable  to  their  designs.  The  youth  of  the  acade- 
mies, and  the  class  of  citizens  already  roused  and  ex- 
cited, were  well  prepared  to  give  ear  to  the  new  teach- 
ers. 

Making  sure  of  co-operation,  they  waited  upon  the 
university  professors,  to  receive  their  sanction  :  "  We," 
said  they,  "  are  sent  by  God  to  teach  the  people.  The 
Lord  has  favoured  us  with  special  commmunications 
from  Himself.  We  have  the  knowledge  of  things  which 
are  coming  upon  the  earth.**  In  a  word,  we  are  apos- 
tles and  prophets,  and  we  appeal,  for  the  truth  of  what 
>ve  say,  to  Doctor  Luther."  The  professors  were 
amazed. 

44  Who  commissioned  you  to  preach  1"  inquired  Me- 
lancthon,  of  Stubner,  who  had  formerly  studied  under 
him,  and  whom  he  now  received  at  his  table.  "  The 
Lord  our  God."  "  Have  you  committed  anything  to 
writing?"  "  The  Lord  our  God  has  forbidden  me  to 
do  so."  Melancthon  drew  back,  alarmed  and  aston- 
ished. 

"  There  are,  indeed,  spirits  of  no  ordinary  kind  in 
these  men,"  said  he,  "but  what  spirits  1  .  .  .  none  but 
Luther  can  solve  the  doubt.  On  the  one  hand,  let  us 

*Ut  Rerum  potiatur  et  instauret  sacra  et  respublicas  tradat 
sanctis  viris  tenendas.  (Camerar.  Vit.  Mel.  p.  45.) 

t  Quod  nos  docemus,  ille  facit. 

\  Einen  Priester  der  das  Venerabile  getragen  mit  Steiuen 
geworfen.  (Seek.  p.  482.) 

§  Sunt  et  illic  in  vincula  conjecti.  (Mel.  Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  513.) 

||  Hue  advolarunt  tres  viri,  duo  lanifices,  literarum  rudes, 
literatus  tertius  est.  (Mel.  Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  513.) 

IT  Incidens  more  et  habitu  militum  istorum  quos  Lanzknecht 
dicimus.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  245.) 

**  Esse  sibi  cum  Deo  familiaria  colloquia,  videre  futura  . . 
(MeL  Elector!,  27th  Dec.  1521.    Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  614.) 


beware  of  quenching  the  spirit  of  God,  and,  on  the 
other,  of  being  seduced  by  the  spirit  of  the  devil." 

Storch,  who  was  of  a  restless  disposition,  soon  left 
Wittemberg;  Stubner  remained  behind.  Actuated  by 
an  ardent  desire  to  make  proselytes,  he  went  from 
louse  to  house,  conversing  with  one  and  another,  and 
presuading  many  to  acknowledge  him  as  a  prophet  of 
Sod.  He  especially  attached  himself  to  Cellaring,  a 
Suabian,  a  friend  of  Melancthon,  and  master  of  a  school 
attended  by  a  considerable  number  of  young  persons. 
Jellarius  admitted,  with  blind  confidence,  the  claims 
of  the  new  apostles. 

Melancthon's  perplexity  and  uneasiness  continued 
to  increase.  It  was  not  so  much  the  visions  of  the  pro- 
phets of  Zwickau,  as  their  doctrine  concerning  bap- 
tism, that  disturbed  him.  To  him  it  seemed  agree- 
able to  reason,  and  he  thought  it  deserved  to  be  ex- 
amined into,  "  for,"  observed  he,  "  nothing  should  be 
ightly  received  or  rejected."* 

Such  was  the  spirit  of  the  Reformation.  In  this 
Hesitation  and  struggle  of  Melancthon,  we  have  an  evi- 
dence of  his  uprightness,  which  does  him  more  honour 
than  a  determined  opposition  could  have  done. 

The  elector  himself,  whom  Melancthon  termed  the 
4  light  of  Israel,"i  had  his  doubts.  '•  Prophets  and 
apostles  in  the  electorate  of  Saxony,  as  of  old  time  in 
Jerusalem  !  It  is  a  solemn  question,"  said  he,  "  and, 
as  a  layman,  I  cannot  decide  it.  But  rather  than  fight 
against  God,  I  would  take  to  my  staff,  and  descend  from 
my  throne." 

On  reflection,  he  intimated  by  his  counsellors,  that 
Wittemberg  had  quite  sufficient  trouble  in  hand.  That 
t  was  most  likely  the  claims  of  the  men  of  Zwickau, 
were  a  temptation  of  the  devil,  and  that  the  wisest 
course  appeared  to  be,  to  allow  the  whole  matter  to 
settle  down  ;  that,  nevertheless,  whenever  his  highness 
hould  clearly  perceive  what  was  God's  will,  he  would 
not  confer  with  flesh  and  blood,  but  was  ready  to  en- 
dure everything  in  the  cause  of  truth. J 

Luther  received,  in  the  Wartburg,  intelligence  of 
the  ferment  at  the  court  of  Wittemberg.  His  inform- 
ants apprised  him  of  strange  persons  having  made  their 
appearance,  and  that,  as  to  their  message,  it  was  not 
known  from  whence  it  came.  The  thought  instantly 
occurred  to  him,  that  God  had  permitted  these  deplor- 
able events  in  order  to  humble  his  servants,  and  to 
rouse  them  to  seek  higher  degrees  of  sanctification. 
"  Your  Highness,"  said  he,  in  a  letter  to  the  elector, 
44  your  Highness,  for  many  a  year,  collected  relics  far 
and  wide  ;  God  has  heard  your  prayers,  and  sent  you, 
at  no  cost  or  trouble  of  your  own,  a  whole  cross,  with 
nails,  spears,  and  scourges.  God  prosper  the  newly- 
acquired  relic  !  Only  let  your  Highness  spread  out 
your  arms,  and  endure  the  piercing  of  the  nails  in  your 
flesh.  I  always  expected  that  Satan  would  send  us 
this  plague." 

Nevertheless,  there  was  nothing,  according  to  his 
judgment,  more  urgent  than  to  secure  to  others  the 
liberty  he  claimed  for  himself.  He  would  have  no  di- 
vers weights  or  measures.  "  Pray  let  them  alone," 
don't  imprison  them,"  wrote  he  to  Spalatin  ;  let  not 
our  prince  imbrue  his  hands  in  the  blood  of  the  pro- 
phets that  have  risen  up."$  Luther  was  far  beyond 
the  age  in  which  he  lived,  and  even  beyond  many  of 
the  Reformers  in  the  matter  of  toleration. 

Affairs  were  daily  growing  more  serious  in  Wit- 
temberg. tl 

*  Censebat  enim  neque  admittendum  neque  rejiciendua 
quicquam  temere.  (Gamer.  Vit  Mel.  p.  49.) 

t  Elector!  lucernae  Israel.    (Ibid.  p.  513.) 

i  Daruber  auch  leiden  was  S.C.  G.  leiden  sollit.  (Ibid.  p.  637  ) 

§  Ne  princeps  manus  cruentet  in  prophetis.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p. 
135.) 

||  Tib!  fiebant  omnia  in  dies  difficiliora.  (Camer.  Vit.  Mel. 
p.  49.) 


CONTEMPT  OF  LEARNING— OCCUPATIONS  OF  THE  ELECTOR. 


241 


Carlstadt  did  not  receive  many  things  taught  by 
the  new  teachers,  and  especially  their  anabaptist  doc- 
trine ;  but  there  is  something  contagious  in  religious 
enthusiasm,  which  a  head  like  his  could  with  difficulty 
withstand.  From  the  time  the  men  of  Zwickhau  ar- 
rived in  Wittemberg,  Carlstadt  had  accelerated  his 
movements  in  the  direction  of  violent  changes  :  "  It  is 
become  necessary,"  cried  he,  "  that  we  should  exter- 
minate all  the  ungodly  practices  around  us.*  He 
brought  forward  all  the  texts  against  image-worship,  and 
with  increased  vehemence  declaimed  against  Romish 
idolatry  :  "  People  kneel,"  said  he  "  and  crawl  before 
those  idols  ;  burn  tapers  before  their  shrines,  and 
make  offerings  to  them.  Let  us  arise,  and  drag  the 
worshippers  from  their  altars  !" 

Such  appeals  were  not  lost  upon  the  populace. 
They  broke  into  churches,  carried  off  the  images, 
breaking  them  in  pieces,  and  burning  them.t  Better 
would  it  have  been  to  have  awaited  their  abolition  by 
authority  ;  but  the  cautious  advances  of  the  leaders 
of  the  Reformation,  were  thought  to  compromise  its 
security. 

It  was  not  long  before  one  who  listened  to  these  en- 
thusiasts, might  have  thought  that  there  were  no  real 
Christians  in  all  Wittemberg,  save  only  those  who  re- 
fused to  come  to  confession,  persecuted  the  priests, 
and  ate  meat  on  fast  days.  The  bare  suspicion  that 
he  did  not  reject,  one  and  all,  the  ceremonies  of  the 
Church  as  inventions  of  the  devil,  was  enough  to  sub- 
ject a  man  to  the  charge  of  being  a  worshipper  of  Baal. 
"  We  must  form  a  church,"  they  exclaimed,  that  shall 
consist  of  the  saints  alone  !" 

The  burghers  of  Wittemberg  presented  to  the  Coun- 
cil certain  regulations  which  it  was  compelled  to  sanc- 
tion. Several  of  these  regulations  were  conformable 
to  Christian  morals.  The  closing  of  places  of  amuse- 
ment was  particularly  insisted  upon. 

But  soon  after  this,  Carlstadt  went  still  greater 
lengths  ;  he  began  to  pour  contempt  upon  human  learn- 
ing ;  and  the  students  heard  their  aged  tutor  advising 
them,  from  his  rostrum,  to  return  to  their  homes,  and 
resume  the  spade,  or  follow  the  plough,  and  cultivate 
the  earth,  because  man  was  to  eat  bread  in  the  sweat 
of  his  brow  !  George  Mohr,  master  of  the  boys'  school 
of  Wittemberg,  carried  away  by  a  similar  madness, 
called  from  his  window,  to  the  burghers  outside,  to 
come  and  remove  their  children.  Where,  indeed,  was 
the  use  of  their  pursuing  their  studies,  since  Storch 
and  Stubner  had  never  been  at  the  University,  and  yet 
were  prophets  1  A  mechanic  was  just  as  well,  nay, 
perhaps,  better  qualified  than  all  the  divines  in  the  world, 
to  preach  the  Gospel ! 

Thus  it  was,  that  doctrines  were  put  forth  directly 
opposed  to  the  Reformation.  The  revival  of  letters 
had  opened  a  way  for  the  reformed  opinions.  Fur- 
nished with  theological  learning,  Luther  had  joined  is- 
sue with  Rome : — and  the  Wittemberg  enthusiasts, 
similar  to  those  fanatical  monks  exposed  6y  Erasmus 
and  Reuchlin,  pretended  to  trample  under  foot  all  hu- 
man learning !  Only  let  Vandalism  once  establish  its 
sway,  and  the  hopes  of  the  world  were  gone ;  and  ano- 
ther irruption  of  barbarians  would  quench  the  light 
which  God  had  kindled  among  Christian  people. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  results  of  these  strange 
lessons  began  to  show  themselves.  Men's  minds  were 
diverted  from  the  Gospel,  or  prejudiced  against  it  : — 
the  school  was  almost  broken  up,  the  demoralised  stu- 
dents burst  the  bands  of  discipline,  and  the  states  of 
Germany  recalled  such  as  belonged  to  their  several 


*  Irruendum  et  demoliendum  statim.      (Ibid.) 
t  Die  Bildcr  zu  sturmen  und  aus  den  Kirchen  zu  werfen. 
(Math.  p.  31.) 
Gg 


jurisdictions.*  Thus  the  men  who  aimed  at  reforming, 
and  infusing  new  vigour  into  everything,  had  brought 
all  to  the  brink  of  ruin.  "  One  more  effort,"  thought 
the  partisans  of  Rome,  who,  on  all  sides,  were  again 
lifting  their  heads,  "  and  all  will  be  ours  !"t 

The  prompt  repression  of  these  fanatical  excesses, 
was  the  only  means  of  saving  the  Reformation.  But 
who  should  undertake  the  task  ?  Melancthon  ?  He 
was  too  young,  too  deficient  in  firmness,  too  much 
perplexed  by  this  strange  conjuncture  of  circumstances. 
The  Elector!  He  was  the  most  pacific  man  of  his 
age.  To  build  his  castles  of  Altenburg,  Weimar, 
Lochau,  and  Coburg,  to  adorn  the  churches  with  fine 
pictures  by  Lucas  Cranach,  to  improve  the  chauntings 
in  his  chapels,  to  advance  the  prosperity  of  his  univer- 
sity, and  promote  the  happiness  of  his  subjects ;  to 
stop  in  his  walks,  and  distribute  little  presents  to  play- 
ful  children — such  were  the  tranquil  occupations  of  his 
life ;  and  now,  in  his  declining  years,  to  engage  in 
conflict  with  fanatics,  and  oppose  violence  to  violence 
— how  could  the  gracious  and  pious  Frederic  take  such 
a  step  1 

The  evil,  therefore,  was  gaining  ground,  and  no  one 
slept  forward  to  arrest  its  progress.  Luther  was  ab- 
sent far  from  Wittemberg.  Confusion  and  ruin  im- 
pending over  the  city.  The  Reformation  beheld,  pro- 
ceeding, as  it  were,  from  its  own  bosom,  an  enemy 
more  to  be  dreaded  than  popes  and  emperors.  It  was 
as  if  on  the  brink  of  an  abyss. 

"  Luther !  Luther !"  was  the  cry  from  one  end  of 
Wittemberg  to  the  other.  The  burghers  were  clamor- 
ous for  his  re-appearance.  Divines  felt  their  need  of 
the  benefit  of  his  judgment ;  even  the  prophets  appeal- 
ed to  him.  All  united  in  entreating  him  to  return. t 

We  may  guess  what  was  passing  in  the  Reformer's 
mind.  The  harsh  usage  of  Rome  seemed  nothing, 
when  compared  with  what  now  wrung  his  heart.  It  is 
from  the  very  midst  of  the  Reformation,  that  its  ene- 
mies have  gone  forth.  It  is  preying  upon  its  own  vi- 
tals ;  and  that  teaching,  which,  by  its  power,  had  suf- 
ficed to  restore  peace  to  his  troubled  heart,  he  beholds 
perverted  into  an  occasion  of  fatal  dissensions  in  the 
Church. 

"  If  I  knew,"  said  Luther,  at  an  earlier  period,"  that 
my  doctrine  had  injured  one  human  being,  however 
poor  and  unknown — which  it  could  not,  for  it  is  the 
very  Gospel — I  would  rather  face  death  ten  times  over 
than  not  retract  it.$  And  lo  !  now,  a  whole  city,  and 
that  city  Wittemberg  itself,  is  sinking  fast  into  licen- 
tiousness." True,  indeed,  the  doctrine  he  had  taught 
had  not  been  the  cause  of  all  this  evil ;  but,  from  every 
quarter  of  Germany,  voices  were  heard  that  accused 
him,  as  the  author  of  it.  Some  of  the  bitterest  feel- 
ings he  had  ever  known  oppressed  his  spirit  at  this 
juncture,  and  his  trial  was  of  a  different  kind.  Was 
this,  then,  he  asked  himself,  to  be  the  issue  of  the  great 
work  of  Reformation  ?  Impossible  !  he  utterly  reject- 
ed the  doubts  that  presented  themselves.  God  has 
begun  the  work — God  will  fulfil  it.  "  I  prostrate  my- 
self, in  deep  abasement,  before  the  Eternal,"  said  he, 
"and  I  implore  of  Him,  that  His  name  may  rest  upon 
this  work,  and  that  if  anything  impure  has  mingled  in 
the  doing  of  it,  He  will  remember  that  I  am  but  a  sin- 
ful man.  "|| 

The  letters  written  to  Luther,  conveying  reports  of 
the  inspiration  of  the  pretended  prophets,  and  their  ex- 

*  Etliche  Fiirsten  ihre  Bewandten  abgefordert.  (Corp. 
Ref.  i.  p.  560.) 

t  Perdita  et  funditus  diruta.      (Cam.  Vit.  Mel.  p.  52.) 

I  Lutherum  revocavimus  ex  heremo  suo  magnis  de  causis. 
(Corp.  Ref.i.  p.  666.) 

^  Mb'chte  ich  ehe  zehn  Tode  leyden.  (Wieder  Emser,  L. 
Opp.  xviii.  p.  613.) 

U  Ich  krieche  zu  seiner  Onaden.  (L.  Opp.  xviii.  p.  615.) 


242 


EDICT  OF  THE  DIET— LUTHER  LEAVES  THE  WARTBURG. 


alted  communion  with  the  Lord,  did  not  occasion  him 
a  moment's  hesitation.  He  well  knew  the  deep  strug- 
gles and  prostrations  of  the  spiritual  life  ;  at  Erfurth, 
and  at  Witternberg,  he  had  had  experience  of  the 
mighty  power  of  God,  which  rendered  him  but  little 
disposed  to  credit  the  statement,  that  God  had  appeared 
visibly,  and  discoursed  with  his  creature. 

"  Ask  them,"  said  he,  in  writing  to  Melancthon, 
"  if  they  have  known  those  spiritual  hearings,  those 
pangs  of  God's  new  creation,  those  deaths  and  hells, 
which  accompany  a  real  regeneration.*  And  if  they 
speak  only  of  soft  and  tranquil  impressions,  piety,  and 
devotion,  as  they  phrase  it,  don't  believe  them ;  not 
even  though  they  should  assert  that  they  have  been 
caught  up  into  the  third  heaven  !  In  order  that  Christ 
should  enter  into  his  glory,  it  behoved  him  to  pass 
through  the  suffering  of  death  :  thus  the  believer  must 
pass  through  the  tribulation  of  his  sin,  before  he  enters 
into  his  Peace.  Would  you  learn  when,  where,  and 
how,  God  speaks  to  men"!  .  Listen  to  the  word.  'As 
a  lion,  He  has  broken  all  my  bones — lam  cast  out  from 
before  His  face,  and  my  life  is  brought  down  to  the 
gates  of  death.'  No,  no  !  the  Divine  Majesty  (as  they 
term  him)  does  not  speak,  face  to  face,  with  man,  for 
'  no  man,'1  says  He,  '  can  see  my  face  and  live.' " 

But  his  firm  conviction  that,  the  prophets  were  under 
a  delusion  did  but  aggravate  Luther's  grief.  The  so- 
lemn truth  of  Salvation  by  Grace  seemed  to  have  quick- 
ly lost  its  attraction,  and  men  were  turning  aside  after 
fables.  He  began  to  understand  that  the  work  was 
not  so  easy  as  he  had  once  fondly  thought.  He  stum- 
bled at  this  first  stone,  placed  in  his  path  by  the  fickle- 
ness of  the  human  heart.  Grief  and  anxiety  weighed 
heavy  on  his  spirit.  He  desired,  though  at  the  hazard 
of  his  life,  to  remove  the  stumbling-block  out  of  the  way 
of  the  people,  and  he  resolved  to  return  to  Wittem- 
berg. 

It  was  a  moment  of  considerable  danger.  The 
enemies  of  the  Reformation  thought  themselves  on 
the  very  eve  of  destroying  it.  George,  of  Saxony,  who 
would  neither  connect  himself  with  Rome  nor  with 
Wittemberg,  had  written,  as  early  as  the  15th  October, 
1521,  to  Duke  John,  the  Elector's  brother,  to  induce 
him  to  side  with  those  who  opposed  the  progress  of  the 
Reformation.  "  Some,"  wrote  he,  "  deny  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul,  others,  and  those  friars,  too  !  drag 
the  relics  of  St.  Antony  through  the  streets,  and  throw 
them  into  the  gutters. f  All  this  comes  of  Luther's 
teaching.  Entreat  your  brother  either  to  make  a  pub- 
lic example  of  the  impious  authors  of  these  disorders, 
or,  at  least,  publicly  to  declare  his  opinion  of  them. 
Our  grey  hairs  warn  as  that  we  are  near  the  end  of 
our  course,  and  that  we  ought  speedily  to  put  an  end 
to  such  evils." 

After  this,  George  took  his  departure,  to  be  present 
at  the  sittings  of  the  Imperial  Government  at  Nurem- 
berg. On  arriving,  he  used  every  means  to  procure 
the  adoption  of  severe  measures.  The  result  was,  that 
on  the  21st  of  January,  the  Diet  published  an  edict,  in 
which  they  complained  bitterly  that  the  priests  were 
accustomed  to  say  mass  without  being  habited  in 
priest's  garments — that  they  pronounced  the  words  of 
consecration  in  German — administered  it  to  such  as 
had  not  confessed  themselves — passed  it  into  the  hands 
of  laymen, without  even  troubling  themselves  to  ascer- 
tain whether  the  communicant  came  to  it  fasting.! 

The  Imperial  Government  directed  the  Bishops  ac- 
cordingly to  look  after  and  punish  severely  the  inno- 

*  Quaeras  num  experti  sint  spirituales  illas  angustias  et  na- 
tivitates  divinas,  mortes  infernosque.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  215.) 

t  Mit  Schweinen  und  Schellen  ....  in  Koth  geworf< 
(Weyn  Ann.  Seek.  p.  489.) 

t  In  ihre  laische  liande  reiche.    (L.  Opp.  xviii.  p.  285.) 


vators  within  their  respective  dioceses :  and  the  Bishops 
were  not  slow  in  following  these  directions. 

It  was  just  at  this  moment  that  Luther  decided  to 
appear  again  upon  the  stage.  He  clearly  saw  the 
critical  position  of  affairs,  and  foreboded  wide-spread- 
ing calamity.  "  A  time  o<f  trouble,"  said  he,  "  is  com- 
ing upon  the  empire  which  will  sweep  before  it  princes, 
magistrates,  and  bishops.  People's  eyes  are  opened  ; 
they  cannot  be  driven  by  main  force  ;  Germany  will 
DC  deluged  with  blood.*  Let  us  take  our  stand  as 
a  wall  of  defence  to  our  country  in  the  day  of  God's 
anger." 

So  thought  Luther  :  but  he  perceived  a  danger  yet 
more  imminent.  At  Wittemberg,  the  fire,  instead  of 
expiring,  was  burning  every  day  more  fiercely.  From 
the  summits  of  the  Wartburg,  Luther  might  discern 
;n  the  horizon  the  lurid  glare  that  gives  notice  of  de- 
vastation flashing  at  intervals  through  the  gloom. 
Who  but  himself  can  apply  a  remedy  in  the  crisis  1 
What  should  prevent  his  throwing  himself  into  the  heat 
of  the  conflagration,  and  exerting  his  influence  to  arrest 
its  progress  1  He  foresees  his  enemies  preparing  to 
strike  him  down,  but  his  purpose  is  not  shaken.  Nor 
is  he  deterred  by  the  Elector's  entreaty  that  ho  would 
keep  within  the  Wartburg,  and  there  quietly  prepare 
bis  justification  at  the  approaching  Diet.  A  more 
urgent  necessity  is  pressing  upon  his  soul  ;  arid  it  is 
to  justify  the  Gospel  itself.  "  The  news  from  Wit- 
temberg," wrote  he,  "  is  every  day  becoming  more 
alarming.  I  am  on  the  point  of  setting  out.  That 
state  of  things  absolutely  requires  it."t 

Accordingly,  on  the  3d  of  March,  he  finally  decided 
on  leaving  the  Wartburg.  He  bade  farewell  to  its 
grey  turrets  and  gloomy  forests.  He  passed  beyond 
those  walls  within  which  the  anathemas  of  Leo  and 
the  sword  of  Charles  were  alike  powerless.  He  trod 
the  path  that  wound  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  The 
world  which  lay  stretched  before  him,  and  on  which 
he  was  once  more  about  to  appear,  would  soon  per- 
haps ring  with  the  clamours  of  those  who  sought  his 
life.  It  matters  not.  On  he  goes  rejoicing ;  lor  it  is 
in  the  name  of  the  Lord  that  he  is  bending  his  steps 
toward  the  haunts  of  men.t 

Time  had  been  busy.  Luther  was  leaving  the 
Wartburg  for  another  cause  and  in  a  different  charac- 
ter from  that  in  which  he  had  first  entered  it.  He  had 
arrived  there  as  one  who  had  attacked  the  received  tra- 
dition, and  its  established  teachers.  He  was  quilling 
it  for  the  defence  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Apostles 
against  a  new  class  of  adversaries.  He  had  eniered 
the  Wartburg  as  an  innovator  who  had  assailed  the 
ancient  hierarchy — he  was  leaving  it  in  the  spirit  of  a 
conservator,  that  he  might  defend  the  faith  of  the  Chris- 
tians. Until  this  period,  Luther  had  seen  in  the  suc- 
cess of  his  efforts  but  the  triumph  of  the  great  truth  of 
Justification  by  Faith  ;  and,  armed  with  this  single 
weapon,  he  had  beat  down  long  standing  superstitions. 
But  if  there  had  been  a  time  for  removing  that  which 
had  encumbered  the  soil,  a  season  must  needs  come  for 
building  up.  Hidden  under  the  ruins  with  which  his 
assaults  had^trewed  the  plain,  behind  discredited  letters 
of  indulgence,  broken  tiaras  and  trampled  cowls  beneath 
the  many  Romish  errors  and  corruptions  that  his  mind 
surveyed  as  the  slain  upon  a  battle-field,  he  discerned 
and  brought  forth  to  light  the  primitive  Catholic  Church 
re-appearing  still  the  same,  and,  as  it  were,  emerging 
from  a  protracted  struggle,  with  unchangeable  doctrine 
and  heavenly  accents.  He  could  appreciate  the  vast 
differece  between  Rome  and  that  true  Church  which 

*  Germaniam  in  sanguine  natare.     (L    Epp.  ii.  p.  157.) 
f  Ita  enim  res  postulat  ipsa.     (Ibid.  p.  135.) 
j  So  machte  er  sich  mil  unglaublicher  Freudigkeil  des 
Geistes,  im  Nalimen  Gottes  auf  den  Weg,     (Seek.  p.  458.) 


TWO  SWISS  STUDENTS— A  STRANGE  KNIGHT— SUPPER  AT  THE  INN.        243 


he  hailed  and  embraced  with  joy.  Luther  wrought  no 
new  thing  on  the  earth,  as  has  been  falsely  charged 
upon  him  ;  he  did  not  build  for  his  own  age  an  edifice 
that  had  no  associations  with  the  past ;  he  discerned 
urid  let  in  the  light  upon  those  earlier  foundations 
which  were  then  overrun  with  thorns  and  brambles  ; 
while  he  persevered  in  reconstructing  the  temple,  he  did 
but  build  on  the  fundamental  truths  taught  by  the  Apos- 
tles. Luther  was  aware  that  the  ancient  and  primi- 
tive Apostolic  Church  must,  on  one  hand,  be  restored 
and  opposed  to  that  papal  power  which  had  so  long 
oppressed  it — and,  on  the  other  hand,  be  defended 
against  enthusiasts  and  unbelievers,  who  affected  to  dis- 
own it,  and  were  seeking  to  set  up  some  new  thing,  re- 
gardless of  all  that  God  had  done  in  past  ages.  Luther 
was,  from  that  hour,  no  longer  the  representative  of  a 
single  great  truth — that  of  Justification  by  Faith, 
though,  to  the  last,  he  gave  to  it  the  highest  place  ; 
the  whole  theology  of  Christianity  now  occupied  his 
thoughts  : — and  while  he  believed  that,  in  its  essence, 
the  Church  is  the  Congregation  of  Saints,  he  was  care- 
ful not  to  despise  the  visible  Church,  and  he  therefore 
recognised  those  who  were  outwardly  called,  as  con- 
stituting, in  a  certain  sense,  the  kingdom  of  God. 
Accordingly,  a  great  change  took  place  in  Luther,  and, 
in  his  entrance  into  divine  truth,  and  in  that  regenera- 
tive progress  which  God  was  carrying  on  in  the  world. 
The  hierarchy  of  Rome,  acting  upon  him,  might  have 
goaded  the  Reformer  to  one  extreme,  had  not  the  sects, 
which,  at  this  time,  lifted  their  heads  so  daringly,  re- 
called him  to  just  and  moderate  views.  His  residence 
in  the  Wartburg  divides  these  two  periods  of  the  his- 
tory of  the  Reformation. 

Luther  rode  slowly  on  in  the  direction  of  Wittem- 
berg.  It  was  Shrove  Tuesday,  and  the  second  day  of 
his  journey.  Toward  evening,  a  terrific  storm  came 
on,  and  the  roads  were  flooded.  Two  young  Swiss, 
who  were  travelling  the  same  way,  were  hastening  for 
shelter  to  the  city  of  Jena.  They  had  studied  at  Bale, 
and  were  attracted  to  Wittemberg  by  the  renown  of 
its  university.  Journeying  on  foot,  tired  and  wet 
through,  John  Kessler,  of  St.  Gall,  and  his  comrade, 
quickened  their  steps.  The  town  was  in  all  the  bustle 
and  buffoonery  of  the  carnival — dances,  masquerades, 
and  tumultuous  feasting,  engrossed  the  thoughts  of  the 
inhabitants,  and  the  two  travellers,  on  arriving,  could 
find  no  room  in  any  of  the  inns.  After  a  while,  they 
were  directed  to  the  Black  Bear,  outside  the  city  gate. 
Harrassed  and  depressed,  they  repaired  thither.  The 
landlord  received  them  kindly.*  Ashamed  of  their 
appearance,  they  sat  down  near  the  open  door  of  the 
public  room,  unwilling  to  go  further.  Seated  at  one 
of  the  tables,  was  a  solitary  man  in  the  habit  of  a 
knight,  his  head  covered  with  a  red  cap,  and  wearing 
small  clothes,  over  which  hung  down  the  skirts  of  his 
doublet.  His  right  hand  rested  on  the  pommel  of  his 
sword  ;  his  left  grasped  the  hilt ;  a  book  lay  open  be- 
fore him,  and  he  seemed  to  be  reading  attentively. t 
At  the  noise  made  by  their  entrance,  the  stranger  raised 
his  head  and  saluted  them  courteously,  inviting  them 
to  approach  and  take  a  seat  with  him  at  the  table  ; 
then  offering  them  a  glass  of  beer,  he  said,  alluding  to 
their  accent,  "  You  are  Swiss,  I  perceive  ;  but  from 
which  of  the  cantons  1" — "  From  St.  Gall." — "  If  you 
are  going  to  Wittemberg,  you  will  there  meet  one  of 
your  countrymen,  Doctor  Schurff."  Encouraged  by 
so  much  affability,  they  enquired — "  Could  you  kindly 
inform  us  where  Martin  Luther  now  is  ?" — "  I  know 

*  See  the  narrative  of  Kessler,  with  its  details,  in  the  simple 
language  of  that  age,  in  Bernet,  Johann.  Kessler,  p.  27.  Hahn- 
hard  Erzahlungen,  iii.  p.  300,  and  Mai'heinecke  Gesch.  der 
Bef.  ii.  p.  321,  2d  edi. 

t  In  cinem  rothen  Schlopli,  in  blossen  Hossen  und  Wamms. 
(Ibid.) 


for  certain,"  answered  the  knight,  "  that  Luther  is 
not  at  Wittemberg,  but  probably  he  will  be  there  short- 
ly. Philip  Melancthon  is  there.  If  you'll  be  advised 
by  me,  apply  yourselves  to  the  Greek  and  Hebrew, 
that  you  may  understand  the  Holy  Scriptures."  "  If 
our  lives  are  spared,"  observed  one  of  the  Swiss,  "  we 
will  not  return  without  seeing  and  hearing  Doctor 
Luther  ;  it  is  for  that  purpose  we  have  made  the  jour- 
ney. We  hear  he  wants  to  abolish  the  clergy  and  the 
mass,  and  as  our  parents  always  intended  to  bring  us  up 
to  the  church,  we  should  like  to  know  on  what  grounds 
he  is  acting."  The  knight  was  silent  for  a  moment, 
and  then  enquired,  "  Where  have  you  been  studying 
hitherto  ?"—"  At  Bale."— "  Is  Erasmus  still  there  T 
what  is  he  doing  1"  They  answered  his  questions,  and 
a  pause  ensued.  The  two  Swiss  knew  not  what  to 
make  of  their  new  acquaintance.  "  How  strange," 
thought  they,  "  that  the  conversation  of  a  knight  should 
be  all  about  Schurff,  Melancthon,  and  Erasmus,  and  the 
advantage  of  knowing  Greek  and  Hebrew."  "  Tell 
me,  my  friends,"  said  the  stranger,  suddenly  breaking 
silence,  "  what  is  said  of  Luther  in  Switzerland  V — 
"  Sir,"  replied  Kessler,  "  opinions  concerning  him  are 
greatly  divided,  as  is  the  case  everywhere.  Some  ex- 
tol him,  and  others  pronounce  him  an  abominable  he- 
retic."— "  Aye,  aye,  the  priests,  no  doubt,"  remarked 
the  stranger. 

The  knight's  cordiality  had  put  the  students  com- 
pletely at  their  ease.  Their  curiosity  was  excited  to 
know  what  book  he  had  been  reading  when  they  came 
in.  The  knight  had  closed  the  volume.  Kessler's 
comrade  ventured  to  take  it  up  ;  what  was  his  surprise 
at  finding  it  to  be  the  Hebrew  Psalter.  Laying  it 
down,  he  said,  as  if  to  divert  attention  from  this  free- 
dom, "  Gladly  would  I  give  my  little  finger  to  under- 
stand that  language." — "You  will  surely  have  your 
wish,"  was  the  stranger's  reply,  "  if  you  will  take  the 
pains  to  acquire  it." 

A  few  minutes  after,  the  landlord's  voice  was  heard 
calling  Kessler.  The  poor  Swiss  began  to  fear  some- 
thing was  amiss  ;  but  the  host  wispered,  "  I  hear  you 
want  to  see  Luther ;  well,  it  is  he  who  is  seated  be- 
side you."  Kessler's  first  thought  was  that  he  was 
jesting.  "  You  surely  would  not  deceive  me,"  said 
he.  "  It  is  he,  himself,"  replied  the  landlord  ;  "  but 
don't  let  him  see  that  you  know  him."  Kessler  made 
no  answer  ;  but  returned  to  the  room  and  resumed  his 
seat,  eager  to  communicate  the  information  to  his 
companion.  To  do  this  was  not  easy ;  at  last  he 
leaned  forward,  as  if  looking  toward  the  door,  and 
stooping  close  to  his  friend's  ear,  whispered — "  The 
landlord  says  it  is  Luther  himself." — "  Perhaps,"  re- 
turned his  companion,  "  he  said  Hutten  ?" — "  Probably 
so,"  said  Kessler,  "  I  may  have  mistaken  the  one  name 
for  the  other,  for  they  resemble  each  other  in  sound." 

At  that  moment,  the  trampling  of  horses'  feet  was 
heard  outside ;  two  travelling  merchants,  asking  a 
night's  lodgings,  entered  the  room,  laid  aside  their 
spurs,  and  threw  off  their  cloaks,  and  one  of  them  de- 
posited near  him,  on  the  table,  an  unbound  book,  which 
attracted  the  knight's  notice.  "  What  book  may  that 
be?"  asked  he.  "  It  is  a  commentary  on  the  Gospels 
and  Epistles,  by  Doctor  Luther,"  was  the  traveller's 
answer;  "  it  has  only  just  appeared." — "  I  shall  get  it 
shortly,"  remarked  the  knight. 

Conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  landlord's  an- 
nouncing that  supper  was  ready.  The  two  students, 
not  wishing  to  incur  the  expense  of  a  meal  in  company 
with  the  knight,  Ulrich  Hutten,  and  two  thriving  mer- 
chants, took  the  landlord  aside,  and  asked  him  to  serve 
them  with  something  apart.  "  Come  along,  my 
friends,"  said  the  innkeeper  of  the  Black  Bear,  "  sit 
ye  down  beside  this  gentleman  ;  I  will  let  you  oft 


244 


LUTHER'S  JOURNEY— LETTER— RECEPTION  AT  WITTEMBERG. 


easy."—"  Come,  come,"  said  the  knight,  "  I'll  pay 
the  score." 

During  supper,  the  mysterious  stranger  made  many 
striking  and  instructive  remarks.  Both  merchants 
and  students  listened  in  silence,  more  attentive  to  his 
words  than  to  the  dishes  before  them.  In  the  course 
of  conversation,  one  of  the  merchants  exclaimed,  "  Lu- 
ther must  be  either  an  angel  from  heaven,  or  a  devil 
from  hell !"  and  he  followed  up  his  exclamation  by 
the  remark,  *'  1  would  give  ten  florins  for  an  opportu- 
nity of  meeting  him,  and  confessing  to  him." 

Supper  being  over,  the  merchants  rose  from  their 
seats  ;  the  two  Swiss  remained  in  company  with  the 
knight,  who,  taking  up  a  large  glass  of  beer,  and 
raising  it  to  his  lips,  said,  gravely,  after  the  custom  of 
the  country — "  Swiss,  one  glass  more  for  thanks." 
And  as  Kessler  was  about  to  take  the  glass,  the  stran- 
ger, replacing  it,  handed  him  one  filled  with  wine  : 
"  You  are  not  used  to  beer,"  said  he. 

This  said,  he  rose  from  his  seat,  threw  over  his 
shoulders  a  military  cloak,  and  extending  his  hand  to 
the  students,  said,  "  When  you  reach  Wittemberg, 
salute  Doctor  Jerome  Schurfffrom  me."  "  With  plea- 
sure," replied  they ;  "  but  whose  name  shall  we  give  1" 
44  Do  you  tell  him,  only,  that  he  who  is  coming  sends 
him  greeting."  With  these  words  he  departed,  leav- 
ing them  delighted  with  his  condescension  and  kind- 
ness. 

Luther,  for  he  it  was,  continued  his  journey.  It  will 
be  remembered  that  he  had  been  placed  under  ban  of 
the  empire.  Whoever  met  him  might,  therefore,  seize 
his  person.  But  in  that  critical  moment,  engaged,  as 
he  was,  in  an  enterprise  replete  with  dangers,  he  was 
calm  and  serene,  and  conversed  cheerfully  with  those 
whom  he  met  with  on  his  way. 

It  was  not  that  he  deceived  himself  as  to  immedi- 
ate results.  He  saw  the  horizon  black  with  storms  : 
44  Satan,"  said  he,  "  is  enraged  ;  and  all  around  me 
are  plotting  death  and  destruction.*  But  I  go  forward, 
to  throw  myself  in  the  way  of  the  emperor  and  the 
pope,  with  no  protector  but  God  above.  Go  where  I 
will,  every  man  is  at  perfect  liberty  to  put  me  to  death, 
wherever  he  may  find  me.  Christ  is  Lord  of  all !  If 
it  be  His  will  that  my  life  should  be  taken,  even  so  let 
it  be." 

That  same  day,  being  Ash  Wednesday,  Luther  ar- 
rived at  Borne,  a  small  town  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Leipsic.  He  felt  that  it  became  him  to  acquaint  his 
prince  with  the  bold  step  he  was  about  to  take,  and, 
accordingly,  wrote  as  follows,  from  the  inn  at  which 
he  had  alighted  : 

"Grace  and  peace  from  God,  our  Father,  and  from 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ !  Most  serene  Elector,  gra- 
cious prince — the  reproach  brought  upon  the  Gospel, 
by  the  events  that  have  taken  place  at  Wittemberg, 
have  so  deeply  grieved  me,  that  I  should  have  lost  all 
hope,  were  I  not  assured  that  our  cause  is  that  of 
tho  truth. 

"  Your  highness  knows  full  well,  or  if  not,  be  it 
known  to  you,  I  received  the  Gospel — not  from  man, 
but  from  heaven — by  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  It  was 
not  from  any  doubt  as  to  the  truth,  that  I  formerly  re- 
quested public  discussions  ;  I  did  so  in  humility,  and 
in  the  hope  to  win  over  others.  But  since  my  humi- 
lity is  taken  advantage  of  to  the  hinderance  of  the  Gos- 
pel, my  conscience  urges  me,  at  this  time,  to  change 
my  course  of  action.  I  have  sufficiently  shown  rny 
deference  to  your  highness,  in  withdrawing  from  the 
public  gaze  for  a  whole  year.  Satan  knows  that  it  was 
not  from  cowardice  that  I  did  so.  I  would  have  en- 
tered Worms,  though  there  had  been  as  many  devils 

*  Furit  Satanas  ;  et  freaiunt  vicini  undique,  ncscio  quot 
mortibus  et  infernis.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  153.) 


in  the  town  as  there  were  tiles  upon  its  roofs.  Now 
Duke  George,  whom  your  highness  mentions  as  if  to 
scare  me,  is  much  less  to  be  dreaded  than  a  single  de- 
vil. If  what  is  passing  at  Wittemberg,  were  occur- 
ring at  Leipsic,  the  duke's  usual  place  of  residence,  I 
would  instantly  mount  my  horse,  and  repair  thither, 
even  though — your  highness  will,  I  trust,  pardon  the 
expression — it  should  rain  Dukes  George  for  nine 
days  together,  and  every  one  should  be  nine  times  as 
fierce  as  he.  What  can  he  be  thinking  of  in  attacking 
me  ?  Does  he  suppose  that  Christ,  my  Lord,  is  a  man 
of  straw  ?*  May  God  avert  from  him  the  awful  judg- 
ment that  hangs  over  him  ! 

"  Be  it  known  to  your  highness  that  I  am  repairing 
to  Wittemberg,  under  a  protection  more  powerful  than 
that  of  an  elector.  I  have  no  thought  of  soliciting  the 
aid  of  your  highness ;  and  am  so  far  from  desiring  your 
protection,  that  it  is  rather  my  purpose  to  protect  your 
highness.  If  I  knew  that  your  highness  could  or 
would  take  up  my  defence,  I  would  not  come  to  Wit- 
temberg. No  secular  sword  can  advance  this  cause  ; 
God  must  do  all,  without  the  aid  or  co-operation  of 
man.  He  who  has  most  faith,  is  the  most  availing  de- 
fence ;  but,  as  it  seems  to  me,  your  highness  is,  as 
yet,  very  weak  in  faith. 

"  But  since  your  highness  desires  to  know  what  to 
do,  I  will  humbly  answer :  Your  electoral  highness 
has  already  done  too  much,  and  should  do  nothing 
whatever.  God  neither  wants,  nor  will  endure,  that 
you  or  I  should  take  thought  or  part  in  the  matter. 
Let  your  highness  follow  this  advice. 

"  In  regard  to  myself,  your  highness  must  remem- 
ber your  duty  as  elector,  and  allow  the  instructions  of 
his  imperial  majesty  to  be  carried  into  effect  in  your 
towns  and  districts,  offering  no  impediment  to  any 
who  would  seize  or  kill  me  ;f  for  none  may  contend 
against  the  powers  that  be,  save  only  he  who  has  or- 
dained them. 

"  Let  your  highness,  accordingly,  leave  the  gates 
open,  and  respect  safe-conducts,  if  my  enemies  in  per- 
son, or  by  their  envoys,  should  come  to  search  for  me 
in  your  highness's  states.  Everything  may  take  its 
course,  without  trouble  or  prejudice  to  your  highness. 

44 1  write  this  in  haste,  that  you  may  not  feel  aggrieved 
by  my  coming.  My  business  is  with  another  kind  of 
person  from  Duke  George,  one  who  knows  me,  and 
whom  I  know  well. 

44  Written  at  Borne,  at  the  inn  of  the  Guide,  on  Ash 
Wednesday,  1522. 

"  Your  Electoral  Highness's 

"  Very  humble  servant, 

"MARTIN  LUTHER." 

In  this  way  Luther  made  his  approach  to  Wittem 
berg ;  he  wrote  to  his  prince,  but  not,  as  we  have  seen, 
to  excuse  the  step  he  had  taken.  An  unshaken  con- 
fidence animated  his  heart.  He  saw  God's  hand  en- 
gaged in  the  cause,  and  that  sufficed  him.  The  hero- 
ism of  faith  was,  perhaps,  never  more  fully  acted  out. 
In  one  of  the  editions  of  Luther's  works,  we  read,  op- 
posite this  letter,  the  remark  :  4<  This  is  a  wonderful 
writing  of  the  third  and  latest  Elias."J 

It  was  on  Friday,  the  7th  of  March,  that  Luther  re- 
entered  Wittemberg,  having  been  five  days  on  his 
journey.  Doctors,  students,  burghers,  broke  forth  in 
rejoicings,  for  they  had  again  among  them  the  pilot 
who  could  best  extricate  the  vessel  from  the  reefs  by 
which  it  was  encompassed. 

The  elector,  who  was  then  at  Lochau,  attended  by 

*  Er  halt  meinen  Herrn  Christum  fur  ein  Mann  aus  Stroh 
geflochten.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  139.) 

f  Und  ja  nicht  wehren  ...  so  sie  mich  fahen  oden  todtex 
will.  (L.  Epp.  p.  140.) 

f  Der  wahre,  dritte  und  lezte  Elias  .  .  .  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xvu. 
p.  271. 


MEDITATIONS— LUTHER  PREACHES— FAITH  AND  LOVE— GOD'S  WAY.       245 


his  court,  was  much  affected  by  the  perusal  of  the  Re- 
former's letter.  In  his  desire  to  exculpate  him  before 
the  Diet,  he  wrote  to  Schurff :  "  Let  Luther  write  to 
me,  explaining  his  reasons  for  returning  to  Wittem- 
berg,  and  introduce  the  statement  that  he  came  with- 
out my  consent."  Luther  complied. 

"  Behold  me,  ready  to  bear  your  highness's  disappro- 
bation, and  the  anger  of  the  'whole  world.  Are  not 
the  VVittembergers  my  own  sheep  1  Has  not  God 
committed  them  to  my  care  1  And  ought  I  not,  if 
need  be,  to  lay  down  my  life  for  them  1  Besides,  I 
dread  lest  we  should  see  throughout  Germany,  a  revolt, 
by  which  God  shall  punish  our  nation.  Let  your  high- 
ness be  well  assured,  the  decrees  of  heaven  are  not 
like  those  of  Nuremberg."*  This  letter  was  written 
on  the  same  day  that  Luther  reached  Witternberg. 

The  following  day,  being  Easter  Eve,  Luther  visited 
Jerome  Schurff.  He  found  Melancthon,  Jonas,  Arns- 
dorff,  Augustin  Schurff,  Jerome's  brother,  assembled. 
Luther  put  many  questions  to  them,  and  while  they 
recounted  all  that  had  taken  place  in  his  absence,  two 
foreigners  entered  the  room.  The  Swiss  drew  back 
timidly,  on  finding  themselves  in  the  midst  of  this  com- 
pany of  learned  Doctors ;  but  they  soon  recovered  their 
self-possession  when  they  saw  in  the  centre  of  the 
group,  the  knight  whom  they  had  met  at  the  Black 
Bear.  The  latter  advancing,  accosted  them  as  old 
friends,  and  said,  smiling,  as  he  pointed  to  one  of  the 
company — "  That  is  Philip  Melancthon,  whom  I  men- 
tioned to  you."  The  two  Swiss  spent  that  day  in  the 
society  of  the  assembled  friends,  on  the  strength  of  the 
meeting  at  Jena. 

One  absorbing  thought  engrossed  the  Reformer's 
mind,  and  damped  the  pleasure  he  would  otherwise 
have  felt  at  rinding  himself  once  more  surrounded  by 
his  friends.  Doubtless,  the  stage  on  which  he  had 
chosen  to  appear  was  an  obscure  one.  He  was  about 
to  raise  his  voice  in  a  petty  town  of  Saxony  ;  and  yet 
his  object  was,  in  reality,  so  important,  as  to  influence 
the  destinies  of  the  world,  and  be  felt  in  its  effects  by 
many  nations  and  people.  The  question  to  be  decided 
was — whether  the  teaching  which  he  had  derived  from 
God's  Word,  and  which  was  destined  to  produce  so 
mighty  an  effect,  would,  in  the  trial,  prove  stronger 
than  those  disorganizing  principles  which  threatened  its 
extinction.  It  was  now  to  be  seen  whether  it  was 
possible  to  reform  without  destroying — to  open  a  way 
to  new  developments  without  losing  such  as  had  already 
been  evolved.  To  reduce  to  silence  fanatics  in  the 
energy  of  the  first  bursts  of  enthusiasm — to  arrest  the 
headlong  course  of  a  thoughtless  multitude — to  calm 
their  spirits,  and  restore  order,  peace,  and  reason — to 
break  the  force  of  the  torrent  that  beat,  against  the  as 
yet  unsettled  edifice  of  the  Reformation — such  was  the 
object  of  Luther's  return  to  Wittemberg.  But  would 
his  influence  accomplish  all  this  ?  Time  must  show. 

The  Reformer's  heart  thrilled  at  the  thought  of  the 
struggle  he  was  about  to  enter  upon.  He  raised  his 
head,  as  the  lion  shakes  his  brindled  mane  when  roused 
to  the  fight.  "  The  hour,"  said  he,  "  is  arrived,  when 
we  must  trample  under  foot  the  power  of  Satan,  and 
contend  against  the  spirit  of  darkness.  If  our  adver- 
saries do  not  flee  from  us  ; — Christ  will  know  how  to 
compel  them.  We  who  put  our  trust  in  the  Lord 
of  life  and  death,  are  lords  both  of  life  and  of  death  !"t 

But  at  the  .same  time  the  impetuous  Reformer,  as  if 
restrained  by  a  higher  power,  refused  to  employ  the 
anathemas  and  thunders  of  the  Word,  and  set  about 
his  work  in  the  spirit  of  an  humble  pastor — a  tender 
shepherd  of  souls.  "  It  is  with  the  Word  we  must 

*  L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  143.     Luther  altered  this  expression  at  the 
elector's  request, 
t  Domini  enim  sumus  vitae  et  mortis.    (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  150.) 


contend,"  observed  he,  "  and  by  the  Word  we  must 
refute  and  expel  what  has  gained  a  footing  by  violence. 
I  would  not  resort  to  force  against  such  as  are  super- 
stitious ;  nor  even  against  unbelievers  !  Whosoever 
believeth  let  him  draw  nigh,  and  whoso  believeth  not, 
stand  afar  off.  Let  there  be  no  compulsion.  Liberty 
is  of  the  very  essence  of  Faith."* 

The  next  day  was  Sunday.  That  day  the  Doctor, 
whom  the  lofty  walls  of  the  Wartburg  had  for  nearly  a 
year  hidden  from  the  public  eye,  is  to  appear  in  the 
pulpit  of  the  church  of  Wittemberg.  "  Luther  is  come 
back."  "  Luther  is  to  preach  to-day."  The  news, 
repeated  from  one  to  another,  had  of  itself  no  slight 
effect  in  giving  a  turn  to  the  thoughts  by  which  the 
multitude  were  deluded.  People  hurried  to  and  fro  in 
all  directions  ;  and  on  Sunday  morning  the  church  was 
filled  to  overflow  with  an  attentive  and  impressed  con- 
gregation. 

Luther  could  comprehend  the  disposition  of  his 
hearers'  minds.  He  ascended  the  pulpit.  Behold  him 
surrounded  by  the  flock  which  had  formerly  followed 
him  with  one  heart  as  a  docile  sheep,  but  which  has 
broken  from  him  in  the  spirit  of  an  untamed  heifer. 
His  address  was  simple  and  noble — energetic  and  per- 
suasive ; — breathing  the  spirit  of  a  tender  father  return- 
ing to  his  children,  and  enquiring  into  their  conduct, 
while  he  communicates  the  reports  that  have  reached 
him  concerning  them.  He  frankly  commended  their 
progress  in  the  faith,  and  having  thus  prepared  and 
gathered  up  their  thoughts,  he  proceeded  as  follows  : — 

"  But  we  need  a  something  beyond  Faith  ;  and  that 
is  Love.  If  a  man  who  carries  a  sword  is  alone,  it 
matters  not  whether  he  draw  it  or  keep  it  sheathed  ; 
but  if  he  is  in  a  crowd,  let  him  have  a  care  lest  he  wound 
any  of  those  about  him. 

"Observe  a  mother  with  her  babe.  She  first  gives 
it  nothing  but  milk  ;  and  then  the  most  easily  digesti- 
ble food.  What  would  be  the  consequence  were  she 
to  begin  by  giving  it  meat  or  wine  ? 

"  In  like  manner  should  we  act  toward  our  brother. 
Have  you  been  long  at  the  breast  1 — If  so,  well ; — only 
let  your  brother  suck  as  long  ! 

"  Observe  the  Sun.  He  dispenses  two  gifts. — • 
namely — light  and  warmth.  The  mightiest  monarch 
cannot  turn  aside  his  rays  : — they  come  straight  on, 
arriving  upon  this  earth  by  a  direct  course.  Meanwhile 
his  warmth  goes  out  and  diffuses  itself  in  every  direc- 
tion. So  it  is  that  Faith,  like  light,  should  ever  be 
simple  and  unbending  ; — while  Love,  like  warmth, 
should  beam  forth  on  all  sides,  and  bend  to  every  ne- 
cessity of  our  brethren." 

Having  thus  engaged  his  hearers'  attention,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  press  them  more  closely  : 

"  It  is  agreeable  to  Scripture,  say  you,  to  abolish  the 
Mass.  Be  it  so.  But  what  order,  what  decency  have 
you  observed  1  It  became  you  to  offer  up  earnest 
prayers  to  God  ;  to  apply  to  the  authorities  ;  then, 
indeed,  every  one  might  have  acknowledged  that  tho 
thing  was  of  the  Lord." 

Thus  spake  Luther.  The  fearless  man  who,  at 
Worms,  had  stood  forth  against  the  princes  of  this 
world,  made  a  deep  impression  on  men's  minds  by 
these  accents  of  wisdom  and  peace.  Carlstadt  and  the 
prophets  of  Zwickau,  from  being  extolled  and  all- 
powerful  for  a  few  weeks,  and  ruling  to  the  disturbance 
of  the  public  peace,  had  shrunk  into  insignificance 
beside  the  prisoner  escaped  from  the  Wartburg. 

"  The  Mass,"  he  continued,  *'  is  a  bad  thing.  God 
is  opposed  to  it.  It  ought  to  be  abolished,  and  I  would 
that  everywhere  the  Supper  of  the  Gospel  were  estab- 
lished in  its  stead.  But  let  none  be  torn  from  it  by 

*  Non  enim  ad  fid  em  ct  ad  ca  quzc  fidei  sunt,  ullud  cogendus 
est  ...(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  151.) 


246         LUTHER  ON  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER— EFFECT  OF  LUTHER'S  SERMONS. 


force.  We  must  leave  results  to  God.  It  is  not  ice 
that  must  work — but  His  WORD.  And  why  so  ?  you 
will  ask.  Because  the  hearts  of  men  are  not  in  my 
hand  as  clay  in  the  hand  of  the  potter.  We  have  a 
right  to  speak,  but  none  whatever  to  compel.  Let  us 
preach  ; — the  rest  belongs  to  God.  If  I  resort  to  force, 
what  shall  I  gain  1  Grimace,  fair  appearances,  apeings, 
cramped  uniformity,  and  hypocrisy.  But  there  will  be 
no  hearty  sincerity — no  faith — no  love.  Where  these 
are  wanting — all  is  wanting ;  and  I  would  not  give  a 
straw  for  such  a  victory  !* 

"  Our  first  aim  must  be  to  win  tho  heart ;  and  to 
this  end  we  must  preach  the  Gospel.  Then  we  shall 
find  the  Word  impressing  one  to-day,  another  the  next 
day  ;  and  the  result  will  be,  that  each  one  will  with- 
draw from  the  Mass,  and  cease  to  receive  it.  God 
does  more  by  the  simple  power  of  His  word  than  you 
and  I  and  the  whole  world  could  effect  by  all  our  efforts 
put  together  !  God  arrests  the  heart,  and  that  once 
taken — all  is  won  ! 

"  I  say  not  this  that  you  should  restore  the  Mass. 
Since  it  is  done  away  with,  in  God's  name,  let  it  not 
be  revived.  But  was  it  right  to  go  about  it  in  such  a 
manner  1  Paul,  coming  one  day  to  the  famous  city  of 
Athens,  found  there  the  altars  of  such  as  were  no  gods. 
He  passed  on  from  one  to  the  other,  observing  them 
without  touching  one  of  them  ;  but  he  made  his  way 
to  the  market-place,  and  testified  to  the  people  that  all 
their  gods  were  nought  but  images,  graven  by  art  and 
man's  device.  And  that  preached  Word  took  posses- 
sion of  their  hearts,  and  the  idols  fell,  without  his  so 
much  as  touching  them  ! 

"  I  am  ready  to  preach,  argue,  write — but  I  will 
not  constrain  any  one  :  for  faith  is  a  voluntary  act. 
Call  to  mind  what  I  have  already  done.  I  stood  up 
against  Pope,  indulgencences,  and  Papists  ;  but  with- 
out violence  or  tumult.  I  brought  forward  God's 
Word ;  I  preached  and  wrote,  and  there  I  stopped. 
And  while  I  laid  me  down  and  slept,  or  chatted  with 
Amsdorffand  Melancthon  over  our  tankard  of  Wittem- 
berg  beer,  the  word  I  had  preached  brought  down  the 
power  of  the  Pope  to  the  ground,  so  that  never  prince 
or  emperor  had  dealt  it  such  a  blow.  For  my  part,  I 
did  next  to  nothing  :  the  power  of  the  Word  did  the 
whole  business.  Had  I  appealed  to  force,  Germany 
might  have  been  deluged  with  blood.  But  what 
would  have  been  the  consequence  1  Ruin  and  des- 
truction of  soul  and  body.  Accordingly,  I  kept  quiet, 
and  let  the  Word  run  through  the  length  and  breadth 
of  the  land.  Know  you  what  the  devil  thinks  when 
ho  sees  men  resort  to  violence  to  spread  the  Gospel 
through  the  world  1  Seated  behind  the  fire  of  hell, 
and  folding  his  arms,  with  malignant  glance  and  horrid 
leer,  Satan  says,  '  How  good  it  is  in  yonder  madmen 
to  play  into  my  hands.'  But  only  let  him  see  the 
Word  of  the  Lord  circulating,  and  working  its  way 
unaided  on  the  field  of  the  world,  and  at  once  he  is 
disturbed  at  his  work,  his  knees  smite  each  other,  he 
trembles,  and  is  ready  to  die  with  fear." 

On  the  Tuesday  following,  Luther  again  ascended 
tho  pulpit,  and  his  powerful  exhortation  was  once  more 
heard,  in  the  midst  of  an  attentive  audience.  He 
preached  again  on  Wednesday,  Thursday,  Friday,  Sa- 
turday, and  Sunday.  He  took  a  review  of  the  destruc- 
tion of  images,  the  distinction  of  meats,  the  institution 
of  the  Supper,  the  restoration  of  the  cup  to  the  laity, 
and  the  abolition  of  the  confessional.  He  showed  that 
these  points  were  of  much  less  consequence  than  the 
Mass,  and  that  tho  prime  movers  of  the  disorders  of 
which  Wittemberg  had  been  the  scone,  had  grossly 


»  Ich  wollte  nicht  einen  Birnstiel  drauf  geben.     (L.  Opp 
(L.)  xviii.  p.  255.) 


abused  their  liberty.  He  passed  by  turns  from  accents 
of  true  Christian  charity,  to  bursts  of  holy  indignation. 

He  especially  declared  himself  against  those  who 
ventured  lightly  to  partake  of  the  Supper  of  the  Lord. 
"  It  is  not  the  mere  pressing  with  the  teeth"  said  he, 
"  it  is  the  inward  and  spiritual  partaking  realized  by 
faith  which  makes  us  Christians,  and  without  which 
all  outward  acts  are  but  show  and  grimace.  But  that 
faith  consists  in  the  firm  belief  that  Jesus  is  the  Son 
of  God  ;  that  having  himself  borne  our  sins  and  our 
iniquities  on  the  cross,  he  is  himself,  the  alone  and  all- 
sufficient  expiation ;  that  he  now  appears  continually 
in  the  presence  of  God,  reconciling  us  to  the  Father  ; 
and  has  given  to  us  the  sacrament  of  his  body  for  the 
strengthening  of  our  faith  in  this  unspeakable  mercy. 
Only  let  me  believe  this,  and  God  is  my  defence  ;  with 
Him  for  my  buckler  I  defy  sin,  death,  hell,  and  devils  : 
they  cannot  harm  me,  nor  even  so  much  as  ruffle  a 
tiair  of  my  head  !  That  spiritual  bread  is  comfort  to 
the  afflicted,  health  to  the  sick,  life  to  the  dying,  food  to 
the  hungry,  and  a  treasury  for  the  poor !  The  man 
who  does  not  feel  the  burden  of  his  sins  ought,  there- 
fore, to  abstain  from  approaching  the  altar.  What 
can  he  have  to  do  there  ?  Ah  !  let  conscience  be 
heard  ;  let  our  hearts  be  broken  with  the  sense  of  our 
sins,  and  we  shall  not  come  to  that  holy  sacrament  in  a 
spirit  of  presumption." 

Crowds  continually  filled  the  church ;  many  came 
even  from  the  neighboring  towns  and  villages  to  hear 
this  new  Elijah.  Among  others,  Capito  passed  two 
days  at  Wittemberg,  and  heard  the  doctor  preach  twice. 
Never  before  had  Luther  and  the  cardinal's  chaplain 
been  so  entirely  agreed.  Melancthon,  magistrates, 
professors,  and  the  whole  population  were  overjoyed.* 
Schurff,  delighted  with  such  a  termination  of  so  unpro- 
mising a  state  of  things,  hastened  to  communicate  the 
intelligence  to  the  Elector.  He  wrote  to  him  on  Fri- 
day, the  15th  of  March,  after  hearing  Luther's  sixth 
discourse.  "  Oh,  what  joy  has  Doctor  Martin's  reap- 
pearance diffused  among  us  !  His  words,  through 
divine  mercy,  every  day  bring  back  into  the  way  of 
truth  our  poor  deluded  people.  It  is  manifest  that  the 
Spirit  of  God,  is  with  him,  and  that  his  coming  to  Wit- 
temberg is  by  His  special  providence."! 

In  truth,  these  sermons  are  models  of  popular  elo- 
quence ;  but  not  such  as,  in  the  days  of  Demosthenes, 
or  even  in  those  of  Savonarola,  had  led  captive  the 
hearts  of  the  people.  The  task  of  the  peacher  of  Wit- 
temberg was  one  of  greater  difficulty.  It  is  far  easier 
to  rouse  the  fury  of  a  wild  beast  than  to  charm  it  down. 
What  was  needed  to  soothe  a  fanatic  multitude,  and 
to  tame  unruly  passions  :  and  in  this  Luther  succeed- 
ed. In  his  first  eight  sermons,  he  allowed  not  a  word 
to  escape  him  against  the  originators  of  these  disor- 
ders ;  no  allusion  likely  to  give  pain — not  so  much  as 
a  word  by  which  their  feelings  could  be  wounded. 
But  his  moderation  was  his  strength  ;  and  the  more 
tenderly  he  dealt  with  the  souls  that  had  gone  astray, 
the  more  perfectly  did  he  vindicate  that  truth  that  was 
aggrieved.  There  was  no  withstanding  the  power  of 
his  eloquence.  Men  usually  ascribe  to  timidity  and 
cowardly  compromise,  exhortations  that  inculcate  mo- 
deration. Here,  how  different  was  the  case  !  In 
publicly  standing  forth  before  the  inhabitants  of  Wit- 
temberg, Luther  braved  the  Pope's  excommunication 
and  the  Emperor's  proscription.  He  re-appeared,  not- 
withstanding the  Elector's  prohibition,  who  had  inti- 
mated that  he  could  not  protect  him.  Even  at  Worms 
his  courage  had  not  been  so  signally  proved.  He  was 
exposing  himself  to  the  most  imminent  dangers  ;  and 

i  Grosse  Frcude  und  Frohlocken   unter  Gelahrten   und 
Ungelahrten.     (L.  Opp.  xviii.  p.  266.) 
\  Aus  sonderlicher  Schickung  nes  Allmachtigcn . . .  tfbid.) 


GABRIEL  AND  CARLSTADT— STUBNER  AND  CELLARIUS-- ORDER 


RESTOI 


RED.     247 


hence  his  call  was  responded  to.  The  man  who  braved 
the  scaffold,  might  claim  to  be  listened  to  when  he 
inculcated  submission.  None  better  qualified  to  urge 
on  his  hearers  the  duty  of  obedience  to  God,  than  he 
who,  in  order  that  he  might  himself  render  such  obe- 
dience, defied  the  most  violent  persecution  of  man. 
At  Luther's  appeal  difficulties  disappeared — tumult 
subsided — sedition  \vas-  silenced,  and  the  burghers  of 
Wittemberg  returned  quietly  to  their  dwellings. 

Gabriel  Didymus,  who,  of  all  the  Augustine  monks, 
had  manifested  most  enthusiasm,  hung  upon  the  Re- 
former's words.  "  Don't  you  think  Luther  a  wonder- 
ful teacher  ?"  inquired  one  of  his  hearers,  who  was 
himself  deeply  affected.  "  Ah  !"  replied  he,  "  I  seem 
to  be  listening  to  the  voice  of  an  angel  rather  than  a 
man."*  Didyrnus,  soon  after  this,  publicly  confessed 
he  had  been  deceived.  "  He  is  quite  a  changed  man," 
said  Luther,  t 

It  was  not  so  at  first  with  Carlstadt.  Abandoning 
his  studies,  and  frequenting  the  workshops  of  artisans, 
that  he  might  there  receive  the  true  interpretation  of 
the  Scriptures,  he  was  mortified  at  beholding  his  party 
losing  ground  on  the  reappearance  of  Luther.}  In 
his  view  it  was  arresting  the  Reformation  in  the  midst 
of  its  career.  Hence,  his  countenance  wore  a  con- 
stant air  of  dejection,  sadness  and  dissatisfaction. 
Nevertheless,  he  sacrificed  his  self-love  for  the  sake 
of  peace,  restrained  his  desire  to  vindicate  his  doctrine, 
was  reconciled,  at  least  in  appearance,  to  his  col- 
league, and  soon  after  resumed  his  studies  in  the  uni- 
versity. § 

The  most  noted  of  the  prophets  were  not  a-t  Wit- 
temberg when  Luther  arrived  there.  Nicholas  Storch 
was  on  a  progress  through  the  country.  Mark  Stub- 
ner,  had  quitted  the  hospitable  roof  'of  Melancthon. 
Perhaps  their  spirit  of  prophecy  had  left  them  without 
"  voice  or  answer,"||  from  the  first  tidings  brought  them 
that  the  new  Elijah  was  turning  his  steps  toward 
their  Mount  Carmel.  Cellarius,  the  old  schoolmaster 
alone  remained.  Meanwhile,  Stubner  hearing  that  his 
sheep  were  scattered,  returned  in  haste  to  Wittemberg, 
Those  who  had  remained  faithful  to  "  the  heavenly 
prophecy  "  gathered  round  their  master,  repeated  the 
substance  of  Luther's  sermons,  and  pressed  him  with 
anxious  enquiries  as  to  what  they  ought  to  think  and 
do. IT  Stubner  exhorted  them  to  stand  firm.  "Let 
him  come  forth,"  interposed  Cellarius  ;  "  let  him  give 
us  the  meeting ;  let  him  only  afford  us  opportunity  to 
declare  our  doctrine,  and  then  we  shall  see  .  .  .  ." 

Luther  had  but  little  wish  to  meet  them.  He  knew 
them  to  be  men  of  violent,  hasty,  and  haughty  temper, 
who  would  not  endure  even  kind  admonitions,  but  re- 
quired that  every  one  should,  at  the  very  first  summons, 
submit  to  them  as  to  a  supreme  authority.**  Such  are 
enthusiasts  in  every  age.  Nevertheless,  as  an  inter- 
view was  requested,  Luther  could  not  decline  it.  Be- 
sides, it  might  be  doing  service  to  the  weak  of  the 
flock  to  unmask  the  imposture  of  the  prophets.  Ac- 
cordingly the  meeting  took  place.  Stubner  opened  the 
conversation.  He  showed  how  he  proposed  to  restore 
the  Church,  and  reform  the  world.  Luther  listened  to 
him  with  great  calmness.ft  "  Of  all  you  have  been 
saying,"  replied  he,  at  last,  gravely,  "  there  is  nothing 

*  Imo,  inquit,  angeli,  neo  hominis  vocem  mihi  audisse  vi- 
deor.  (Camerarius,  p.  12  ) 

t  In  alium  virum  mutatus  est.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  156.) 

j  Ego  Carlstadium  offendi,  quod  ordinationes  suas  cessavi. 
(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  177.) 

&  Philippi  et  Carlstadii  lectiones  ut  sunt  optima  . .  (Ibid.  p. 
284.) 

||  1  Kings  xviii. 

T  Rursum  ad  ipsnm  confluere  . . .  (Camerar.  p  52.) 

»*  Vehementer  superbus  et  impatiens  . .  .  credi  vult  plena 
auctoritate,  ad  primam  vocem . . .  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  179.) 

ft  Audivit  Lutherus  placide  . . .  (Camer.  p.  52.) 


that  I  see  to  be  based  upon  Scripture.  It  is  a  mere 
tissue  of  fiction."  At  these  words  Cellarius  lost  all 
self-possession.  Raising  his  voice  like  one  out  of  his 
mind,  he  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  and  striking  the 
table  with  his  fist,  in  a  violent  passion,*  exclaimed 
against  Luther's  speech  as  an  insult  offered  to  a  man 
of  God.  On  this  Luther  remarked,  "  Paul  declared 
that  the  signs  of  an  apostle  were  wrought  among  the 
Corinthians,  in  signs  and  mighty  deeds.  Do  you  like- 
wise prove  your  apostleship  by  miracles." — "  We  will 
do  so,"  rejoined  the  prophets.!  "  The  God  whom  I 
serve,"  answered  Luther,  "  will  know  how  to  bridle 
your  gods."  Stubner,  who  had  hitherto  preserved  an 
imperturbable  silence,  now  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  Re- 
former, said,  in  a  solemn  tone,  "  Martin  Luther,  hear 
rne  while  I  declare  what  is  passing  at  this  moment  in 
your  soul.  You  are  begining  to  see  that  my  doctrine 
is  true."  Luther  was  silent  for  a  few  moments,  and 
then  replied,  "  The  Lord  rebuke  thee,  Satan."  In- 
stantly the  prophets  lost  all  self-command.  They 
shouted  aloud,  "  The  Spirit,  the  Spirit."  The  answer 
of  Luther  was  marked  by  the  cool  contempt  and  cutting 
homeliness  of  his  expressions  :  "  I  slap  your  spirit  on 
the  snout !"{  said  he.  Hereupon  their  outcries  re- 
doubled. Cellarius  was  more  violent  than  the  rest. 
He  stormed  till  he  foamed  at  the  mouth§— and  their 
voices  were  inaudible  from  the  tumult.  The  result 
was  that  the  pretended  prophets  abandoned  the  field, 
and  that  every  day  they  left  Wittemberg. 

Thus  did  Luther  achieve  the  object  for  which  he  had 
left  his  retirement.  He  had  taken  his  stand  against 
fanaticism,  and  expelled  from  the  bosom  of  the  church 
the  enthusiasm  and  disorder  which  had  invaded  it.  If 
the  Reformation  with  one  hand  dashed  to  the  earth  the 
dusty  decretals  of  Rome,  with  the  other  it  put  away 
from  it  the  pretensions  of  the  mystics,  and  established 
on  the  territory  it  had  acquired  the  living  and  sure 
Word  of  God.  The  character  of  the  Reformation  was 
thus  distinctly  seen.  Its  mission  was  to  keep  con- 
stantly a  middle  course  between  these  extremes,  remote 
alike  from  fanatical  distortions,  and  from  the  death-like 
slumber  of  the  papal  rule. 

Here  was  an  instance  of  a  whole  population  passion- 
ately excited,  and  misled  to  such  a  degree  as  to  have 
cast  off  all  restraint,  at  once  listening  to  reason,  recover- 
ing calmness,  and  returning  to  their  accustomed  sub- 
mission, so  that  the  most  perfect  quiet  again  reigned 
in  that  very  city  which,  but  a  few  days  before,  had  been 
like  the  troubled  ocean. 

The  most  absolute  liberty  was  forthwith  established 
at  Wittemberg.  Luther  continued  to  reside  in  the 
convent,  and  to  wear  the  monastic  habit ;  but  every 
one  was  free  to  lay  it  aside.  In  coming  to  the  Lord's 
Supper,  persons  might  either  receive  only  the  gerreral 
absolution  or  they  might  apply  for  a  special  one.  It 
was  recognised  as  a  principle  to  reject  nothing  but  what 
contradicted  a  clear  and  express  declaration  of  Scrip- 
ture. II  It  was  no  indifference  that  dictated  this  course. 
On  the  contrary,  religion  was  recalled  to  its  essential 
principle.  Piety  only  withdrew  from  the  accessary 
forms  in  which  it  had  been  well  nigh  lost,  that  it  might 
rest  on  its  true  basis.  Thus  was  the  Reformation  itself 
preserved,  and  the  church's  teaching  progressively 
developed  in  love  and  truth. 

No  sooner  was  order  re-established,  when  the  Re- 
former turned  to  his  beloved  Melancthon,  and  requested 

*  Cum  et  solutn  pedibus  et  propositam  mensulam  manibus 
feriret.  (Ibid.) 

t  Quid  pollicentes  de  mirabilibus  aflectionibus.  (Ibid.  p. 
53.) 

\  Ihren  Geist  haue  er  iiber  die  Schnauze.  (L.  Opp.  Alten- 
burg.  Augs.  iii.  p.  137.) 

^  Spumabat  et  fremebat  et  furebat.    (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  179.) 

||  Ganz  klare  und  grtindliche  Schrift. 


243 


THE  NEW  TESTAMENT  PUBLISHED-SCRIPTURE  AND  FAITH. 


his  co-operation  in  the  final  revision  of  the  translation 
of  the  New  Testament,  which  he  had  brought  with  him 
from  the  Wartburg.*  As  early  as  the  year  15 1U, 
Melancthon  had  laid  down  the  grand  principle  that  the 
Fathers  must  be  explained  conformably  to  the  Scripture, 
and  not  Scripture  according  to  the  Fathers.  Meditat- 
ing daily  on  the  books  of  the  New  Testament,  he  felt 
at  once  charmed  by  their  simplicity,  and  solemnly  im- 
pressed hy  the  depth  of  their  import.  "  In  them,  and 
them  only,"  affirmed  this  adept  in  ancient  philosophy, 
•'  do  we  find  the  true  '  food  of  the  soul.'  "  Gladly, 
therefore,  did  he  comply  with  Luther's  desire,  and  many 
were  the  hours  the  two  friends,  from  that  time,  spent 
together,  studying  and  translating  the  inspired  Word. 
Often  would  they  pause  in  their  labours  to  give  free 
expression  to  their  wonder.  fi  If  Reason  could  speak," 
said  Luther,  "  it  would  say,  0,  that  I  could  once  hear 
the  voice  of  God  !  I  should  think  it  worth  a  journey 
to  the  very  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  !  Give  ear, 
then,  my  fellow-man — God,  the  creator  of  heaven  and 
earth,  now  speaks  to  thee  !" 

The  printing  of  the  New  Testament  was  begun  and 
carried  on  with  an  activity  beyond  all  example.!  One 
might  have  thought  the  very  printers  felt  the  importance 
of  the  work  in  hand.  Three  presses  were  constantly 
employed,  and  ten  thousand  sheets  were  struck  off  every 
day.t 

At  last,  on  the  21st  Sept,  appeared  the  complete 
edition  of  three  thousand  copies  in  two  volumes,  with 
the  brief  title,  "  The  New  Testament  in  German  ; — 
at  Wittemberg."  It  bore  no  name  of  man.  From 
that  hour  every  German  might  obtain  the  Word  of  God 
at  a  small  pecuniary  cost.§ 

The  new  translation,  written  in  the  tone  of  the  sacred 
books,  in  a  language  that  was  as  yet  in  its  virgin  sim- 
plicity, and  now  first  opening  its  full  beauty,  interested 
and  delighted  all  classes,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest. 
It  was  a  national  work — the  people's  book — nay,  much 
more,  it  was  the  book  of  God.  Even  enemies  could 
not  withhold  their  commendation  of  this  wonderful  pro- 
duction, and  there  were  some  incautious  partisans  of 
the  Reformation  so  carried  away  by  the  beauty  of  the 
new  version,  as  to  imagine  they  could  recognize  in  it 
a  second  inspiration.  It,  indeed,  served  more  than  all 
Luther's  own  writings  to  diffuse  a  spirit  of  Christian 
piety.  The  great  work  of  the  sixteenth  century  was 
now  placed  on  a  rock  whence  nothing  could  dislodge 
it.  The  Bible,  restored  to  the  people,  recalled  the 
mind  of  man,  which  had  for  ages  wandered  in  the  end- 
less labyrinths  of  scholastic  teaching,  to  the  heavenly 
springs  of  salvation.  Hence,  the  success  that  attended 
this  step  was  prodigious.  All  the  copies  were  quickly 
disposed  of.  In  December  following,  a  second  edition 
appeared  ;  and  by  the  year  1533,  no  less  than  seven- 
teen editions  had  issued  from  the  presses  of  Wittem- 
berg ;  thirteen  from  Augsburg  ;  twelve  from  Bale  ; 
one  from  Erfurth  ;  one  from  Grimma  ;  one  from  Leip- 
sic ;  thirteen  from  Strasburg  I! 

Even  while  the  first  edition  of  the  New  Testament 
was  passing  through  the  press,  Luther  was  already  at 
work  on  a  translation  of  the  Old  Testament.  This 
labour,  begun  in  1522,  was  continued  without  inter- 
mission. He  issued  it  in  detached  portions,  as  he 
finished  them,  in  order  to  gratify  the  impatience  of  the 
public  demand,  and  to  make  the  purchase  easy  to  the 
poor. 

From  Scripture  and  Faith,  two  streams  issuing  from 

*  Verum  omnia  nunc  elimare  coepimus  Philippus  et  ego. 
(L.  EPP.  ii.  p.  176.) 

|  Ingenti  laboreet  studio.     (L.  Epp.  p.  236.) 

t  Singulis  diebus  decies  millia  chartarum  sub  tribus  prelis 
.  .  .  (Ibid.) 

^  A  florin  and  a  half,  about  a  half-crown. 

||  Gesch  d.  deutsch.  Bibel  Uebersetz. 


one  and  the  same  spring,  the  life  of  the  Gospel  has 
flowed,  and  still  diffuses  itself  through  the  world. 
They  bore  directly  against  two  established  errors. 
Faith  was  met  by  the  opposing  Pelagian  tendency  of 
Catholicism.  Scripture,  in  like  manner,  found  arrayed 
against  it  the  theory  of  tradition  and  the  authority  of 
Rome.  Scripture  led  its  reader  to  Faith,  and  Faith 
made  him  the  disciple  of  the  Word:  "  Man  can  do  no 
meritorious  work  :  the  free  grace  of  God,  received 
through  faith  in  Christ,  alone  saves  him."  Such  was 
the  doctrine  proclaimed  throughout  Christendom.  But 
this  teaching  must  needs  bring  Christendom  to  the 
study  of  the  Scripture.  In  truth,  if  faith  in  Christ  is 
everything  in  Christianity,  and  if  the  observances  and 
ordinances  of  the  Church  are  nothing,  it  is  not  to  the 
Church's  teaching,  but  to  Christ's  word  that  we  must 
adhere.  The  bond  that  unites  to  Christ  will  be  every- 
thing to  the  believing  soul.  What  signifies  the  out- 
ward link  that  connects  him  with  a  visible  church, 
enslaved  by  the  commandments  of  men  1  .  .  Thus,  as 
the  doctrine  of  the  Bible  had  impelled  Luther's  con- 
temporaries toward  Jesus  Christ,  their  love  for  Jesus 
Christ,  in  its  turn,  impelled  them  towards  the  Bible. 
It  was  not,  as  some  in  our  days  have  supposed,  from  a 
philosophic  necessity,  or  from  doubt,  or  a  spirit  of  in- 
quiry that  they  reverted  to  Scripture,  it  was  because 
they  found  there  the  words  of  Him  they  loved.  "  You 
have  preached  Christ,"  said  they  to  the  Reformer, 
"  let  us  now  hear  him  himself-"  And  they  caught  at 
the  sheets  given  to  the  world,  as  a  letter  coming  to 
them  from  heaven. 

But  if  the  Bible  was  thus  joyfully  welcomed  by  such 
as  loved  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  it  was  scornfully  re- 
jected by  such  as  preferred  the  traditions  and  ordinances 
of  men.  This  publication  by  Luther  was  the  signal 
of  violent  persecution.  Rome  trembled  at  the  report 
brought  thither.  The  pen  which  transcribed  the  sacred 
oracles  was,  in  truth,  that  visionary  pen  which  Frederic 
had  beheld  in  his  dream,  reaching  to  the  seven  hills, 
and  discomposing  the  pope's  tiara.  The  monk  in  his 
cell,  the  prince  upon  his  throne,  uttered  a  cry  of  anger. 
The  ignorant  priests  were  dismayed  at  the  thought  that 
burghers,  and  even  rustics,  would  now  be  able  freely 
to  discuss  with  them  the  precepts  of  the  Lord.  The 
king  of  England  denounced  the  work  to  the  Elector, 
Frederic,  and  to  Duke  George,  of  Saxony.  But  be- 
fore this,  and  as  early  as  the  November  previous,  the 
Duke  had  commanded  all  his  subjects  to  deliver  up 
every  copy  of  Luther's  New  Testament  into  the  hands 
of  the  magistrate.  Bavaria,  Brandenburg,  Austria, 
and  all  the  states  in  the  interest  of  Rome,  passed  simi- 
lar decrees.  In  some  parts,  a  sacrilegious  bonfire, 
composed  of  the  sacred  books,  was  lighted  in  the  pub- 
lie  squares.*  Thus  did  Rome,  in  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, renew  the  efforts  by  which  heathenism  had  at- 
tempted to  uproot  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ,  at  the 
period  when  the  reins  were  escaping  from  the  hands 
of  the  Priests  of  Idol  worship.  But  what  power  can 
stay  the  triumphant  progress  of  the  Gospel  T  "  Even 
after  I  had  prohibited  the  sale,"  wrote  Duke  George, 
"  many  thousand  copies  were  sold  and  read  in  my 
states." 

God  even  used,  for  the  purpose  of  making  known 
His  word,  the  very  hands  that  were  essaying  to  destroy 
it.  The  Romish  divines,  seeing  they  could  not  stop 
the  circulation  of  the  Reformer's  work,  themselves  put 
forth  a  translation  of  the  New  Testament.  It  was  no 
other  than  Luther's,  here  and  there  altered  by  the  new 
editors.  No  hinderance  was  offered  to  the  reading  of 
it.  Rome  had  not  yet  experienced,  that  wherever  the 

*  Qui  et  alicubi  in  unnm  congegti  rogum  publice  cornbus- 
ti  sunt. 


EFFECTS  OF  LUTHER'S  TRANSLATION— THE  "LOCI  COMMUNES.' 


249 


Word  of  God  took  root,  its  own  power  began  to  totter 
Joachim,  of  Brandenburg,  gave  license  to  his  subjects 
to  read  any  translation  of  the  Bible,  in  Latin  or  in  Ger 
man,  provided  it  were  not  from  the  presses  of  Wittem 
berg.  The  German  nations,  and  more  especially  the 
people  of  Brandenburg,  made,  in  this  way,  a  decidec 
advance  in  the  knowledge  of  the  truth. 

The  publication  of  the  New  Testament  in  the  ver- 
nacular tongue,  is  among  the  memorable  epochs  of  the 
Reformation.  If  the  marriage  of  Feldkirchen  had  been 
the  first  step  in  the  progress  of  its  influence  from  the 
sphere  of  teaching  to  that  of  social  life : — if  the  aboli- 
tion of  monastic  vows  had  been  the  second,  and  the 
establishment  of  the  Supper  of  the  Lord,  a  third  stage 
of  this  transition,  the  publication  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment was,  perhaps,  even  more  important  than  all  the 
rest.  It  wrought  an  entire  change  in  the  aspect  of 
society — not  alone  in  the  priest's  presbytery — not  mere- 
ly in  the  monk's  cell  and  the  noble's  closet,  but  more 
than  this,  in  the  interior  of  the  dwellings  of  the  nobles, 
citizens,  and  peasantry.  When  Christians  began  to 
read  the  Bible  in  their  families,  Christianity  itself  un- 
derwent a  palpable  change.  Thence  ensued  changed 
habits,  improved  morals,  other  conversations,  in  short, 
a  new  new  life.  With  the  publication  of  the  New 
Testament,  it  seemed  as  if  the  Reformation  had  passed 
the  threshold  of  the  college,  and  took  its  proper  place 
at  the  hearths  of  the  people. 

The  effect  that  followed  was  incalculable.  The 
Christianity  of  the  Primitive  Church  was,  by  the  pub- 
lication of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  presented  full  before 
the  eyes  of  the  nation,  recovered  from  the  oblivion  in 
which  for  centuries  it  had  lain  hid — and  the  sight  was, 
of  itself,  enough  to  justify  the  charges  that  had  been 
brought  against  Rome.  The  least  instructed,  provided 
they  did  but  know  how  to  read — women,  artisans,  (we 
are  quoting  from  one  of  that  age,  who  was  bitterly  op- 
posed to  the  Reformation,)  studied  the  New  Testament 
with  eager  delight.*  They  carried  it  about  with  them, 
learnt  portions  by  heart,  and  saw,  in  its  precious  pages, 
the  proof  of  the  perfect  accordance  of  that  Reformation 
which  was  Luther's  aim,  with  the  revelation  that  God 
had  given. 

Meanwhile,  it  was  in  detached  portions  only  that 
the  teaching  of  the  Bible  and  of  the  Reformation  had 
till  then  been  set  forth.  A  certain  truth  had  been  de- 
clared in  one  tract — a  certain  error  exposed  in  another. 
The  field  of  the  Church  presented  the  appearance  of  a 
plain,  on  which  here  and  there  were  seen,  without  or- 
der or  arrangement,  the  ruins  of  the  old,  and  the  ma- 
terials of  a  new,  structure  ;  but  as  yet  the  new  edifice 
was  wanting.  True  it  is,  that  the  publication  of  the 
New  Testament  met  this  want.  The  Reformation 
might  say,  with  that  book  in  its  hand — "  Behold  my 
system."  But  as  each  individual  may  contend  that 
his  system  is  none  other  than  that  of  the  Bible,  the 
Reformation  seemed  called  to  set  forth,  in  order,  what 
it  found  in  Hoty  Scripture.  This  was  a  work  Melanc- 
thon  now  contributed  in  its  name. 

In  the  development  of  his  theology,  Melancthon's 
steps  had  been  deliberate  ;  but  they  were  taken  with 
firmness,and  the  result  of  his  enquiries  was  courageous- 
ly made  known  to  all.  As  early  as  1520,  he  had  de- 
clared that  some  of  the  seven  sacraments  were,  in  his 
judgment,  mere  imitations  of  Jewish  feasts  ;  and  that 
he  considered  the  asserted  infallibility  of  the  pope  as 
a  proud  pretension,  directly  at  variance  with  Scripture 
and  sound  judgment.  "  We  want  more  than  a  Her- 
cules,"t  remarked  he,  "  to  make  a  stand  against  such 

*  ...  Mulieres,  et  qu'ilibet  idiot*  .  .  .  avidissime  legerent. 
(Cochlaeus.  p,  60.) 

f  Adversiis  quas  non  uno  nobis,  ut  ita  dicam,  Hercule  opus 
est    (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  137.) 
Hh 


doctrines."  Here  we  see  that  Melancthon  had  been 
led  to  the  same  conclusion  as  Luther,  by  a  more  stu- 
dious and  calm  process  of  conviction,  The  time  had 
now  come  that  he,  in  his  turn,  should  publicly  confess 
his  faith. 

In  1521,  during  his  friend's  captivity  in  the  Wart- 
burg,  his  celebrated  "  Loci  Communes"  had  presented 
to  Christian  Europe  a  body  of  doctrine,  based  on  so- 
lid grounds,  and  admirably  compacted.  The  tracings 
of  a  simple  and  majestic  outline  appeared  before  the 
wondering  minds  of  that  generation.  As  the  trsnsla- 
tion  of  the  New  Testament  had  justified  the  Reforma- 
tion to  the  people,  so  Melancthoff's  Loci  Communes 
served  to  justify  it  in  the  judgment  of  the  learned. 

For  fifteen  centuries  the  Church  had  existed  on  the 
earth  without  having  seen  such  a  work.  Relinquish- 
ing the  common  argumentation  of  scholastic  theology, 
the  friend  of  Luther  had  at  last  given  to  Christendom 
a  system  of  divinity,  derived  entirely  from  Scripture. 
In  it,  the  reader  was  conscious  of  a  breath  of  life,  a 
quickness  of  understanding,  a  force  of  conviction,  and 
a  simplicity  of  statement,  which  strikingly  contrasted 
with  the  subtle  and  pedantic  method  of  the  schools. 
The  coolest  judgments,  and  the  most  exact  divines, 
were  alike  impressed  with  admiration. 

Erasmus  designated  this  work  a  wondrous  army, 
ranged  in  order  of  battle  against  the  pharisaic  tyranny 
of  false  teachers  ;*  and  while  he  confessed  that  on 
some  points  he  did  not  agree  with  the  author,  he  never- 
theless added,  that  having  always  loved  him,  he  had  ne- 
ver loved  him  so  much  as  after  reading  this  work.  "  So 
beautiful  is  the  proof  that  it  affords,"  said  Calvin,  when 
presenting  it  at  a  subsequent  period  to  the  French 
people,  "  that  the  most  perfect  simplicity  is  the 
noblest  method  of  handling  the  Christian  doctrine."f 

But  no  one  experienced  a  finer  joy  than  Luther ;  to 
the  last  this  work  was  to  him  a  theme  of  wonder. 
The  occasional  sounds  his  trembling  hand  had  drawn, 
n  the  deep  emotion  of  his  soul,  from  the  chords  of 
prophets  and  apostles,  were  here  blended  together  in 
entrancing  harmony.  Those  solid  masses  of  truth 
which  he  had  hewn  from  the  quarry  of  Holy  Scripture, 
were  here  raised  and  compacted  together  in  one  ma- 
estic  edifice.  He  was  never  tired  of  commending 
the  work  to  the  attention  of  the  youths  who  came  to 
tudy  at  Wittemberg.  "  If  you  would  wish  to  become 
divines,"  said  he,  "  read  Melancthon. "$ 

In  Melancthon's  judgment,  a  deep  sense  of  the 
wretched  state  to  which  man  is  reduced  by  sin,  is  the 
foundation  on  which  we  must  build  the  teaching  of 
Christian  theology.  This  universal  evil  is  the  primary 
"act,  the  leading  truth  whence  the  science  takes  its 
departure  ;  and  it  is  this  which  forms  the  peculiar 
distinction  of  theology  from  the  sciences  which  work 
heir  own  advancement  by  the  powers  of  reason. 

The  Christian  divine,  diving  into  the  heart  of  man, 
•evealed  its  laws  and  mysterious  motions,  as  the  phi- 
osopher  in  later  times  has  disclosed  the  laws  and  at- 
.ractions  of  material  bodies.  "  Original  sin,"  said  he, 
'  is  an  inclination  born  with  us — an  impulse  which  is 
igreeable  to  us — a  certain  influence  which  leads  us 
nto  the  commission  of  sin,  and  which  has  passed  from 
Adam  upon  all  his  posterity.  Just  as  there  is  found 
n  fire  a  native  energy  which  mounts  upward,  just  as 
n  the  loadstone  we  observe  a  natural  power  of  attract- 
ng  steel,  just  so  do  we  find  in  man  a  primary  impulse 
mpelling  him  to  that  which  is  evil.  I  admit  freely 

»  Video  dogmatum  aciem  pulchre  instructam  adversus 
yrannidem  pharisaicam.  (Er.  Epp.  p.  949.) 

t  La,  Somme  de  Theologie,  par  Philippe  Melancthon. 
(Geneve,  1551.  John  Calvin  aux  lecteurs.) 

t  "Librum  invictum,"  said  he  another  time,  -non  solum 
mmortalitate  sed  et  canone  ecclesiastice  dignum."  (De  ser. 
vo  arbitrio.) 


250    FREE  WILL— KNOWLEDGE  OF  CHRIST— EFFECT  OF  MELANCTHON'S  TRACT. 


that  in  Socrates,  Xenocrates,  Zeno,  were  seen  tem- 
perance and  chastity ;  these  exterior  virtues  were 
found  in  men  whose  hearts  were  unpurified,  and  they 
proceeded  out  of  the  love  of  self,  hence  we  should 
regard  them  in  reality,  not  as  virtues,  but  vices."* 
Such  language  may  sound  harsh,  but  not  so  if  we 
enter  into  Melancthon's  real  meaning.  None  more 
prompt  than  he  to  acknowledge  virtues  in  the  great 
men  of  antiquity,  which  entitled  them  to  the  esteem 
of  men ;  but  he  laid  down  the  solemn  truth,  that  the 
highest  law  given  by  God  to  all  his  creatures  is  to 
love  Him  above  all  things.  If,  then,  man  is  doing 
that  which  God  commands — does  it,  not  from  love  to 
God,  but  from  love  of  self — can  we  think  that  God 
will  accept  him,  thus  daring  to  substitute  self  in  place 
of  His  own  infinite  Majesty  ?  And  must  it  not  be 
enough  to  vitiate  any  action  that  it  involves  in  it  a 
direct  rebellion  against  the  sovereignty  of  God  1 

The  Wittemberg  divine  proceeded  to  show  how 
man  is  rescued  from  this  wretched  state :  "  The 
apostle,"  said  he,  "  invites  thee  to  contemplate  at  the 
Father's  right  hand,  the  Son  of  God,  our  great  medi- 
ator, ever  living  to  make  intercession  for  us,f  and  he 
calls  upon  thee  to  believe  assuredly  that  thy  sins  are 
pardoned,  and  thyself  counted  righteous  and  accepted 
by  the  Father,  for  the  sake  of  that  Son  who  died  upon 
the  cross." 

A  peculiar  interest  attaches  to  this  first  edition  of 
the  Loci  Communes,  from  the  manner  in  which  the 
German  divine  speaks  of  Free  Will.  We  find  him 
recognising,  even  more  clearly  than  had  been  done  by 
Luther,  (for  he  was  more  of  a  theologian,)  that  this 
doctrine  could  not  be  separated  from  that  which  con- 
stituted the  very  essence  of  the  Reformation.  Man's 
justification  in  the  sight  of  God,  is  by  FAITH  ALONE, 
was  the  first  point.  This  faith  wrought  in  man's  heart 
by  the  ALONE  GRACE  OF  GOD,  was  the  second.  Me- 
lancthon  saw  clearly  that  to  allow  any  ability  in  the 
natural  man  to  believe,  would,  in  this  second  point,  en- 
tirely set  aside  that  grand  doctrine  of  grace  which  is 
asserted  in  the  first.  He  was  too  discerning — too 
deeply  instructed  in  the  Scriptures,  to  be  misled  on  so 
important  a  question.  But  he  went  too  far  :  instead 
of  confining  himself  to  the  religious  bearing  of  the 
question,  he  entered  upon  metaphysics.  He  laid  down 
a  sort  of  fatalism,  which  might  lead  his  readers  to 
think  of  God  as  the  author  of  evil,  and  which  conse- 
quently has  no  foundation  in  Scripture : — "  Since  what- 
ever happens,"  said  he,  "happens  by  necessity,  agree- 
ably to  the  divine  foreknowledge,  it  is  plain  that  our 
will  hath  no  liberty  whatever. "J 

But  the  principal  object  Melancthon  had  in  view, 
was  to  present  theology  as  a  system  of  devotion — The 
•chools  had  so  dried  up  the  generally  received  creed, 
as  to  leave  it  destitute  of  life.  The  office  of  the 
Reformation  was  to  reanimate  this  lifeless  creed.  In 
succeeding  editions,  Melancthon  felt  the  necessity  for 
great  clearness  in  doctrinal  statements. $  In  1521, 
however,  it  was  not  so  much  the  case.  "  The  know- 
ledge of  Christ,"  said  he,  "  is  found  in  the  knowledge 
of  the  blessings  derived  through  him.  Paul  writing  to 

*  Loci  commune*  Iheologici.  Bale.  1521,  p. 35— a  rare  edi- 
tion. See  for  the  subsequent  revisions,  that  of  Erlangen,  1828, 
a  reprint  of  that  of  Bale,  1561 . 

f  Vult  te  intueri  Filium  Dei  scdentem  ad  dexterm  Patris, 
mediatorem  interpellantem  pro  nobis.  (Ibid.) 

\  Quandoquidem  omniaquae  eveniunt,  necessario  eveniunt 
Juxta  livinam  predestinationem,  nulla  est  voluntatis  uostrsc 
liber tas.  (Loci  comm.  theol.  Bale,  1521,  p.  35.) 

v)  See  the  edition  of  1561,  reprinted  in  1S29.  pages  14  to  44, 
the  several  chapters— De  tribus  personis  ;— De  diyinitate 
Filii ; — De  duabus  naturis  in  Christo  ; — Testimonia  quod 
Filius  sit  persona  ;  testimonia  refutantia  Arianos  ;  De  discer- 
nendis  proprietatibus  humanae  et  divinae  nature  Christ! — De 
Spiritu  sancto,  &c.  &c. 


the  Romans,  and  desiring  to  sum  up  the  Christian 
doctrine,  does  not  set  about  treating  philosophically 
of  the  Trinity,  the  Incarnation,  Creation,  active  or  pas- 
sive. What,  then,  are  his  themes  ? — the  Law,  Sin, 
Grace.  On  our  instruction  in  these,  depends  our 
knowledge  of  Christ.*'* 

The  publication  of  this  treatise  was  of  singular 
service  to  the  cause  of  the  truth.  Calumnies  stood 
refuted — prejudices  were  dissipated.  Among  the 
religious,  the  wordly,  and  the  learned,  the  genius  of 
Melancthon  was  admired,  and  his  character  esteemed 
and  loved.  Even  such  as  had  no  personal  knowledge 
of  the  author  were  conciliated  to  his  creed  by  this 
work.  The  vigour  and  occasional  violence  of  Luther'3 
language  had  offended  many  ;  but  in  Melancthon,  an 
elegance  of  composition,  a  discriminating  judgment, 
and  a  remarkable  clearness  and  arrangement  were  seen 
engaged  in  the  exposition  of  those  mighty  truths  that 
had  aroused  the  slumbering  world.  The  work  was 
rapidly  bought  up,  and  read  with  avidity.  His  gentle- 
ness and  modesty  won  all  hearts,  while  his  elevation 
of  thought  commanded  their  respect ;  and  the  higher 
classes,  who  had  been  hitherto  undecided,  were  capti- 
vated by  a  wisdom  which  had  at  last  found  so  noble 
an  utterance. 

On  the  other  hand,  such  of  the  opposers  of  the  truth 
as  had  not  been  humbled  by  the  energy  of  Luther, 
were,  for  a  while,  silenced  and  disconcerted  by  the 
appearance  of  Melancthon's  tract.  They  had  found 
another  man  as  worthy  as  Luther  to  be  a  mark  for  their 
hatred.  "  Alas  !"  they  exclaimed,  "  alas  for  Ger- 
many !  to  what  new  extremity  shall  we  be  brought  by 
this  last  birth  !"t 

The  Loci  Communes  passed  through  sixty-seven 
editions  between  1521  and  1595,  without  including 
translations.  Next  to  the  Bible,  this  work  may  have 
mainly  contributed  to  the  establishment  of  the  evan- 
gelical doctrine. 

While  the  "  grammarian,"  Melancthon,  was  by  this 
happy  co-operation  aiding  the  efforts  of  Luther, 
schemes  of  a  violent  character  were  again  planning 
by  his  formidable  enemies.  At  the  news  that  he  had 
effected  his  escape  from  the  Wartburg,  and  appeared 
again  on  the  world's  stage,  the  rage  of  his  former  ad- 
versaries returned. 

Luther  had  been  rather  more  than  three  months  at 
Wittemberg,  when  a  rumour,  repeated  by  common 
fame,  brought  him  the  intelligence  that  one  of  the  great- 
est monarchs  of  Christendom  had  risen  up  against  him. 
Henry  VIII.  head  of  the  house  of  Tudor,  a  prince 
descended  from  the  families  of  York  and  Lancaster, 
and  in  whom,  after  torrents  of  bloodshed,  the  red  and 
white  roses  were  at  length  united,  the  puissant  king  of 
England,  who  boldly  advanced  the  obsolete  authority 
of  his  crown  over  the  continent,  and  more  particularly 
over  France — had  put  forth  an  answer  to  the  poor 
monk  of  Wittemberg.  "  I  hear  much  commendation 
of  a  little  treatise  by  the  king  of  England,"  wrote 
Luther  to  Lange,  on  the  26th  of  June,  1522. i 

Henry  the  Eighth  was  then  in  his  thirty-first  year — 
"  tall,  strong-built,  and  proportioned,  and  had  an  air 
of  authority  and  empire,"^  and  a  countenance  that  ex- 
pressed the  vivacity  of  his  mind.  Vehement  in  tem- 
per, bearing  down  whatever  stood  in  the  way  of  his 
passions,  and  thirsting  for  distinctions,  the  defects  of 

*  Hoc  est  Christum  cognoscere,  beneficia  ejus  cognoscere, 
&c.  (Ibid.) 

t  Heu  !  infelicem  hoc  nove  partu  Germaniam  ! . . .  (Ccechl.) 

j  Jactant  libellum  regis  Anglioe  ;  sed  Uum  ilium  suspicor 
sub  pelle  lectum— an  allusion  to  Lee,  Henry  the  Eighth'* 
chaplain,  punning  on  this  name.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  213.) 

&  He  was  tall,  strong-built,  and  proportioned,  and  had  an 
air  of  authority  and  empire.  (Collier's  Eccles.  Hist,  of  Great 
Britain,  fol.  ii.  1.) 


HENRV  VIIL— CATHERINE  OF  ARRAGON— CARDINAL  WOLSEY. 


251 


his  character,  were  for  a  time  mistaken  for  the  impe- 
tuosity of  youth — and  there  was  no  lack  of  flatteries 
to  confirm  him  in  them.  Often  would  he  resort,  ac- 
companied by  his  favourite  companions,  to  the  house 
of  his  chaplain,  Thomas  Wolsey,  the  son  of  a  butcher, 
of  Ipswich.  This  man,  who  was  gifted  with  great 
abilities,  of  excessive  ambition,  and  unbounded  auda- 
city, being  patronised  by  the  Bishop  of  Winchester, 
the  king's  chancellor,  had  rapidly  risen  in  his  master's 
favour.  He  would  often  allure  the  young  prince  to 
his  residence  by  the  attraction  of  riotous  pleasures,*  in 
which  he  would  not  hav«  ventured  to  indulge  within 
the  walls  of  his  own  palace.  This  is  recorded  by  Po- 
lydore  Vergil,  then  sub-collector  of  the  pope's  reve- 
nue's in  England.  In  these  orgies,  the  chaplin  outdid 
the  licentiousness  of  the  younger  courtiers.  He  sang, 
danced,  laughed,  played  the  buffoon,  took  part  in  in- 
decent conversation,  and  fenced.!  He  soon  attained 
the  highest  seat  at  the  council  board,  and  the  whole 
kingly  power  passing  into  his  hands,  he  was  enabled 
to  stipulate  with  foreign  princes  for  a  reward  for  his 
influence  in  foreign  affairs. 

Henry  passed  whole  days  in  balls,  banqueting,  and 
justing — thus  squandering  the  treasure  which  the  ava- 
rice of  his  father  had  accumulated.  Splendid  tourna- 
ments succeeded  each  other  without  intermission. 
On  these  occasions,  the  king,  who  was  easily  distin- 
guished from  the  other  combatants  by  his  manly  beau- 
ty, took  the  lead.J  If  the  contest  seemed  for  a  mo- 
ment doubtful,  his  expertness  or  strength,  or  else  the 
skilful  policy  of  his  antagonists,  decided  the  victory  in 
his  favour,  and  the  arena  resounded  with  shouts  of  ap- 
plause. Such  easy  triumphs  inflated  the  vanity  of  the 
young  prince,  and  there  was  no  pinnacle  of  earthly 
grandeur  to  which  he  would  not  have  aspired.  The 
Queen  was  often  present  on  such  occasions.  Her 
grave  deportment,  melancholy  look,  and  constrained 
and  depressed  manner,  presented  a  marked  contrast  to 
the  tumultuous  glitter  of  such  festivities.  Henry  VIIL, 
soon  after  his  accession,  had  from  political  considera- 
tions, contracted  marriage  with  Catherine  of  Arragon, 
five  years  older  than  himself,  widow  of  his  brother  Arthur 
and  aunt  to  Charles  V.  While  her  husband  followed 
his  pleasures,  the  virtuous  Catherine,  whose  piety  was 
such  as  Spain  has  been  noted  for,  was  accustomed  to 
leave  her  bed  in  the  dead  of  the  night  to  take  a  silent 
part  in  the  prayers  of  the  monks. 9  She  would  kneel 
without  cushion  or  carpet.  At  five,  after  taking  a 
little  rest,  she  would  again  rise,  and  assume  the  habit 
of  St.  Francis  ;  for  she  had  been  admitted  into  the  third 
order  of  that  saint.H  Then,  hastily  throwing  over  her 
the  royal  garments,  she  was  in  church  at  six,  to  join 
in  the  holy  offices. 

Two  beings,  living  in  such  different  atmospheres, 
could  not  long  continue  united. 

Catherine,  however,  was  not  the  only  representa- 
tive of  Romish  devotion  at  the  court  of  Henry  VIIL 

»  Domi  suae  voluptatum  omnium  sacrarium  fecit,  quo  regem 
frequenter  ducebat.  (Polyd.  Vergilius,  Angl.  Hist.  Bale,  1570, 
iol.  p.  633.) — Polydore  Vergil  seems  to  have  been  a  sufferer  by 
Wolsey 's  pride,  and  to  have  been  perhaps  inclined,  on  that 
account,  to  exaggerate  that  minister's  errors, 

\  Cum  illis  adolescentibus  una  psallebat,  saltabat,  sermones 
leporis  plenos  habebat,  ridebat,  jocabatur.  (Polyd.  Vergilius, 
Angl.  Hist.  Bale,  1570,  fol.  p.  633.) 

J  Eximia  corporis  forma  praeditus,  in  qua  etiam  regiae  ma- 
jestatis  augusta  quaedam  species  elucebat.  (Sanderus  de 
Schismate  Anglicano,  p.  4.) — The  work  of  Sanders,  the  Pope's 
nuncio,  must  be  read  with  much  suspicion,  for  unfounded  and 
calumnious  statements  are  not  wanting  in  it — as  has  been 
remarked  by  Cardinal  Quirini,  and  the  Roman  Catholic  doc- 
tor Lingard.— (See  the  History  of  England,  by  this  last,  vol. 
vi.  p.  173.) 

^  Surgebat  media  nocte  ut  nocturnis  rcligiosorum  precibus 
interesset.  (Sanders,  p.  5.) 

y  Sub  regio  vestitii  Divi  Francisci  habita  utebatur.  (San- 
ders, p.  5.) 


John  Fisher,  bishop  of  Rochester,  then  nearly  seventy 
years  of  age,  and  distinguished  alike  for  his  learning 
and  strict  morals,  was  the  object  of  universal  venera- 
tion. He  had  been  for  a  long  period,  the  oldest  coun- 
sellor of  Henry  VII.,  and  the  Duchess  of  Richmond, 
grandmother  to  Henry  VIIL,  had,  on  her  death-bed, 
confided  to  him  the  youth  and  inexperience  of  her 
grandson.  The  king,  in  the  midst  of  his  excesses,  long 
continued  to  revere  the  aged  bishop  as  a  father. 

A  much  younger  man  than  Fisher,  a  layman  and 
civilian,  had,  at  this  time,  attracted  general  attention 
by  his  genius  and  noble  character.  His  name  was 
Thomas  More.  He  was  the  son  of  one  of  the  judges  of 
the  Court  of  King's  Bench.  In  poor  circumstances, 
of  temperate  habits,  and  unwearied  application,  he,  at 
the  age  of  twenty,  had  sought  to  mortify  the  passions 
of  youth  by  wearing  a  hair-shirt,  and  by  self-inflicted 
scourgings.  One  day,  when  summoned  to  the  presence 
of  Henry  VIIL,  at  a  moment  when  he  was  attending 
mass,  he  replied — "  The  king's  service  must  give  way 
to  the  service  of  God."  Wolsey  introduced  him  to 
Henry,  who  employed  him  in  various  embassies,  and 
lavished  on  him  much  kindness.  He  would  often  send 
for  him  to  converse  with  him  on  astronomy,  and  at 
other  times  concerning  Wolsey,  or  on  disputed  points 
of  theology. 

The  king  was,  to  say  the  truth,  not  altogether  un- 
acquainted with  the  doctrines  of  Rome.  It  even  ap- 
pears, that,  had  prince  Arthur  lived  to  ascend  the 
throne,  Henry  was  destined  to  the  archiepiscopal  see 
of  Canterbury.  In  his  mind  and  life  were  strangely 
blended  Thomas  Aquinas* — St.  Bonaventura — tourna- 
ments— banquetings — Elizabeth  Blount,  and  others  of 
his  mistresses.  Masses  set  to  music  by  himself  were 
chaunted  in  his  chapel. 

From  the  time  Henry  VIIL  first  heard  of  Luther, 
his  indignation  broke  forth ;  and  no  sooner  did  the 
decree  of  the  Diet  of  Worms  reach  England  than  he 
gave  orders  that  the  Pontiffs  bull  against  the  Refor- 
mer's writings  should  be  carried  into  execution.!  On 
the  12th  of  May,  1521,  Thomas  Wolsey,  who  together 
with  the  rank  of  Chancellor  of  England,  held  that  of 
Cardinal  and  Roman  Legate,  repaired  in  solemn  pro- 
cession to  St.  Paul's  Church.  Swollen  by  excess  of 
pride,  he  assumed  to  rival  the  pomp  of  royalty  itself. 
He  was  accustomed  to  seat  himself  in  a  gold  chair, 
slept  in  a  golden  bed.  and  dined  on  a  table  covered  with 
cloth  of  gold. |  On  this  occasion  he  displayed  his 
utmost  state.  His  household,  to  the  number  of  800 
persons,  comprising  barons,  knights,  sons  of  the  first 
families,  who  had  entered  his  service  as  a  step  toward 
the  service  of  the  state,  attended  the  haughty  prelate. 
His  garments  shone  with  gold  and  silk,  (he  was  the 
first  ecclesiastic  who  had  ventured  to  assume  such 
sumptuous  apparel. )$  Even  the  horse-cloths  and 
harness  were  of  the  like  costly  materials.  Before  him 
walked  a  priest  of  lofty  stature,  bearing  a  silver  pillar, 
surmounted  by  a  cross.  Behind  him  another  stately 
ecclesiastic,  holding  in  his  hand  the  archiepiscopal 
crozier  of  York ;  a  nobleman  at  his  side  carried  his 
cardinal's  hat.ll  Others  of  the  nobility — the  prelates 
— the  ambassadors  of  the  Pope  and  of  the  Emperor 
joined  the  cavalcade,  and  were  followed  by  a  long  line 
of  mules,  bearing  chests  overhung  with  rich  and  brilli- 

*  Legebat  studiose  libros  divi  Thomse  Aquinatis.  (Polyd. 
Vergil,  p.  634.) 

t  Primum  libros  Lutheranos,  quorum  magnus  jam  numerut 
per  venerat  in  manus  suorum  Anglorum,  comburendos  cura 
vit.  (Ibid.  p.  664.) 

\  Uti  sella  aurea,  uti  pulvino  aureo,  uti  velo  aureo  ad  men- 
sam.  (Ibid.  p.  664.) 

§  Primus  episcoporum  et  cardinal!  urn,  vest  it  urn  exteriorem 
sericum  sibi  induit.  (Polyd.  Vergil,  p.  633.) 

||  Galerum  cardinalium  ordinis  insignem,  sublime  a  minis- 
tro  praeferebat , . , .  super  altare collocabat ....  (Ibid.  p.  645.) 


252 


HENRY  VIII.  WRITES  AGAINST  LUTHER— THE  KING'S  VANITY. 


ant  stuffs  ;  and  in  this  pompous  procession  the  several 
parties  that  composed  it  were  carrying  to  the  pile  the 
writings  of  the  poor  monk  of  Wittemberg.  On  reach- 
ing the  church,  the  proud  priest  deposited  his  cardinal's 
hat  on  the  altar  itself.  The  virtuous  Bishop  of  Ro- 
chester took  his  place  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and 
with  accents  of  strong  emotion,  preached  earnestly 
against  heresy.  After  this,  the  attendants  drew  near 
bearing  the  writings  of  the  heresiarch,  and  they  were 
devoutly  consumed  in  the  presence  of  a  vast  concourse 
of  spectators.  Such  was  the  first  public  announce- 
ment of  the  Reformation  to  the  oeoule  of  England. 

Henry  did  not  rest  there.  This  prince  whose  sword 
was  ever  uplifted  against  his  adversaries,  his  wives,  and 
his  favourites,  wrote  to  the  Elector  Palatine — "Sure- 
ly, it  is  no  other  than  the  devil,  who,  by  the  agency 
of  Luther,  has  kindled  this  wide  spreading  conflagra- 
tion. If  Luther  will  not  retract,  let  him  and  his  writ- 
ings be  committed  to  the  flames."* 

But  this  was  not  all.  Convinced  that  the  progress  of 
heresy  was  mainly  ascribable  to  the  extreme  ignorance 
of  the  German  princes,  Henry  conceived  that  the  mo- 
ment was  arrived  for  the  exhibition  of  his  own  learning. 
The  recollection  of  the  triumph  of  his  battle-axe  did 
not  permit  him  to  doubt  of  the  victory  he  should  gain 
by  his  pen.  But  another  passion,  vanity — ever  large 
in  little  minds  spurred  on  the  royal  purpose.  He 
was  mortified  by  the  circumstance,  that  he  had  no 
title  to  set  against  that  of  Most  Christian  and  Catholic 
borne  by  the  kings  of  France  and  Spain,  and  had  for  a 
long  time  solicited  from  the  court  of  Rome  a  similar 
distinction.  What  course  could  more  likely  obtain  it 
than  an  attack  upon  heresy  !  Henry,  then,  laid  aside 
his  royal  dignity,  and  descended  from  his  throne  into 
the  arena  of  theological  dispute.  He  pressed  into  his 
service  Thomas  Aquinas,  Peter  Lombard,  Alexander 
of  Hale,  and  Bonaventura,  and  gave  to  the  world  his 
"  Defence  of  the  Seven  Sacraments,  against  Martin 
Luther,  by  the  most  Invincible  King  of  England  and 
of  France,  Lord  of  Ireland,  Henry,  the  Eighth  of  that 
name." 

"  I  will  put  myself  in  the  forefront  of  the  Church, 
to  save  her,"  said  the  king  of  England  in  this  book — 
"  I  will  receive  into  my  bosom  the  poisoned  darts  of 
her  assailant  ;t  what  I  hear  constrains  me  to  this. 
All  the  servants  of  Jesus  Christ,  whatever  be  their  age, 
sex,  or  rank,  should  rise  up  against  the  common  ene- 
my of  Christendom,"^ 

"  Let  us  be  doubly  armed  with  the  heavenly  armour 
to  conquer  with  the  arms  of  truth,  him  who  fights  with 
those  of  error;  but  also  an  earthly  armour,  so  that, 
should  he  show  himself  obstinate  in  malice,  the  hand 
of  the  executioner  may  silence  him ;  and  thus  for 
once  at  least,  he  may  be  useful  to  the  world,  by  the 
terrible  example  of  his  death."$ 

Henry  VIII.  could  not  conceal  the  contempt  which 
he  entertained  for  his  feeble  adversary.  "  This  man," 
says  the  royal  theologian,  "  seems  to  be  in  pains  of  la- 
bour ;  he  travails  in  birth ;  and  lo  !  he  brings  forth  but 
wind.  Take  away  the  audacious  covering  of  proud 
words,  with  which  he  clothes  his  absurdities — as  an 
ape  is  clothed  with  purple — and  what  remains — a 
wretched  and  empty  sophism."|| 

The  king  defends,  successively,  the  mass,  penance, 
confirmation,  marriage,  orders,  and  extreme  unction. 

*  Knapp's  Nachlese,  ii.p.468. 

f  Meque  adversus  venenata  jacula  hostis  earn  oppugnantis 
objiceren.  (Assertio  septem  sacramentorum  adv.  M,  Lulherum 
in  prologp.) 

t  Omnis  Christi  servus,  omnis  setas,  omnis  sexus,  omnis 
ordo  con  surgat.  (Ibid.) 

{5  Et  qui  nocuit  verbo  malitiae,  supplicii  prosit  exemplo. 
(Ibid.) 

||  Mirum  est  quanto  nixu  parturiens,  quam  nihil  nisi  merun 
ventum. . . .  (Ibid.) 


He  is  not  sparing  of  hard  epithets  toward  his  adversary  -f 
styling  him  sometimes  an  infernal  wolf,  at  others  a 
venomous  serpent,  or  a  limb  of  the  devil,  and  he  even 
cast  doubts  on  Luther's  sincerity.  In  short,  Henry 
VIII.  crushes  the  mendicant  monk  with  his  royal  anger r 
"  and  writes,"  says  an  historian,  "  as  it  were  with  his 
sceptre."* 

It  must,  however,  be  confessed,  that  the  book  was 
not  ill  written,  considering  the  author  and  the  age  in 
which  he  wrote.  The  style  is  not  altogether  devoid 
of  force.  The  public  of  the  day  set  no  bounds  to  its 
praises.  The  theological  treatise  of  the  powerful  King 
of  England,  was  received  with  a  profusion  of  adulation. 
"  The  most  learned  work  that  ever  the  sun  saw,"  is 
the  expression  of  some.t  "  It  can  only  be  compared 
with  the  works  of  Saint  Augustine,"  said  others. — 
"  He  is  a  Constantine,  a  Charlemagne — nay,  more," 
echoed  others,  "  he  is  a  second  Solomon." 

These'flattering  reports  soon  reached  the  continent. 
Henrv  had  desired  his  ambassador  at  Rome,  John 
Clarke,  dean  of  Windsor,  to  present  his  book  to  the 
Sovereign  Pontiff.  Leo  X.  received  the  ambassador 
in  full  consistory :  Clarke  presented  the  royal  work  to 
him  with  these  words :  "  The  king,  my  master,  as- 
sures you,  now  that  he  has  refuted  the  errors  of  Luther 
with  the  pen,  he  is  ready  to  combat  his  adherents  with 
the  sword."  Leo,  touched  with  this  promise,  answered, 
that  the  king's  book  could  not  have  been  composed  but 
by  the  aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  conferred  upon  Hen- 
ry the  title  of  "  Defender  of  the  Faith" — still  borne  by 
the  Sovereigns  of  England  ! 

The  reception  which  the  work  met  with  at  Rome, 
contributed  not  a  little  to  attract  the  general  attention. 
In  a  few  months,  many  thousand  copies,  from  different 
presses,  got  into  circulation  ;t  so  that,  to  use  the  words 
of  Cochloms,  "  the  whole  Christian  world  was  filled 
with  wonder  and  joy."§ 

Such  extravagant  praises  served  to  augment  the  al- 
ready insufferable  vanity  of  the  head  of  the  race  of  Tu- 
dor. He  seemed  himself  to  entertain  no  doubt,  that 
he  was  inspired  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  0  Henceforward, 
he  could  not  endure  contradiction.  Papal  authority 
was,  in  his  view,  no  longer  at  Rome,  but  at  Green- 
wich— and  infallibility  was  vested  in  his  own  person. 
This  proud  assumption  served  greatly  to  promote,  at 
a  later  period,  the  Reformation  in  England. 

Luther  read  Henry's  book  with  a  smile,  mingled 
with  disdain,  impatience,  and  indignation.  The  false- 
hoods and  insults  it  contained,  but  above  all,  the  air 
of  pity  and  contempt  which  the  king  affected,  irritated 
the  doctor  of  Wittemberg  to  the  highest  degree.  Tho 
thought  that  the  pope  had  publicly  approved  the  book, 
and  that,  on  all  sides,  the  enemies  of  the  Gospel  were 
triumphing  over  the  Reformation  and  the  Reformer,  as 
already  overthrown,  increased  his  indignation  : — and 
why,  indeed,  thought  he,  should  he  temporise  ?  Was 
he  not  contending  in  the  cause  of  One  greater  than  all 
the  kings  of  this  earth  ?  The  gentleness  that  the  Gos- 
pel inculcates  seemed  to  him  out  of  place.  An  eye 
for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for  a  tooth.  And,  indeed,  he  went 
beyond  all  bounds — persecuted,  railed  at,  hunted  down, 
wounded — the  furious  lion  turned  upon  his  pursuers, 
and  set  himself  determinedly  to  crush  his  enemy.  The 
elector,  Spalatin,  Melancthon,  Bugenhagen,  essayed, 
in  vain,  to  appease  him.  They  tried  to  dissuade  him 
from  replying ;  but  nothing  could  stop  him.  "  I  won't 

*  Collier.  Eccl.  Hist.  Or.  Br.  p,  17. 
t  Burnet,  Hist,  of  the  Ref.  of  England,  i.  p.  30. 
j  Intrapaucos  menses,  liber  ejus  a  multis  chalcographis  in 
multamilliamultiplicatus.    (Cochlreus,  44.) 
^  Ut  totam  orbem  christianum  et  gaudio  et  admiratione  re- 

||  He  was  brought  to  fancy  it  was  written  with  some  degree 
of  inspiration.  (Burnet  in  prsef.) 


LUTHER'S  INDIGNATION— HIS  REPLY  TO  HENRY  VIII. 


253 


be  gentle  toward  the  King  of  England,"  said  he :  I 
know  it  is  useless  to  humble  myself,  to  compromise, 
entreat,  and  try  peaceful  methods.  I  will  show 
these  wild  beasts,  who  are,  every  day,  running  at  me 
with  their  horns,  how  terrible  I  can  be  ;  I  will  turn 
upon  my  pursuers,  I  will  provoke,  and  exasperate  my 
adversary,  until,  exhausting  all  his  strength,  he  falls, 
and  is  forever  annihilated.*  *If  this  heretic  does 
not  retract,'  says  the  new  Thomas,  Henry  VIII.,  '  he 
must  be  burnt !'  Such  are  the  weapons  which  are 
now  employed  against  me  :  the  fury  and  the  faggots 
of  stupid  asses  and  hogs  of  the  Thomas  Aquinas  brood,  t 
Well,  then,  be  it  so  !  Let  these  swine  come  on,  if 
they  dare ;  aye,  let  them  even  burn  me — here  I  am, 
awaiting  them.  My  ashes,  after  death,  though  cast 
into  a  thousand  seas,  shall  rise  up  in  arms,  and  pursue, 
and  swallow  up  their  abominable  troop.  Living,  I  will 
be  the  enemy  of  the  Papacy — and  burnt,  I  will  be  its 
ruin  !  Go,  then,  swine  of  St.  Thomas,  do  what  you 
will.  Ever  will  you  find  Luther  like  a  bear  upon  your 
•road,  and  like  a  lion  upon  your  path.  He  will  fall  up- 
on you  from  all  sides,  and  give  you  no  rest  until  he 
shall  have  ground  your  iron  brains,  and  pulverized  your 
brazen  foreheads." 

Luther  begins  by  reproaching  Henry  VIII.  with 
having  supported  his  statements  merely  by  decrees  and 
doctrines  of  man.  "As  to  me,"  says  he,  "I  do  not 
cease  my  cry  of  '  The  Gospel !  the  Gospel ! — Christ ! 
Christ !' — and  my  enemies  are  as  ready  with  their  an- 
swer— 'Custom!  custom! — Ordinances!  ordinances! 
— Fathers  !  fathers  !' — '  That  your  faith  should  not 
stand  in  the  wisdom  of  men,  but  in  the  power  of  God,' 
says  St.  Paul.  And  the  Apostle,  by  this  thunder-clap 
from  heaven,  at  once  overturns  and  disperses,  as  the 
wind  scatters  the  dust,  all  the  foolish  thoughts  of  such 
a  one  as  this  Henry !  Alarmed  and  confounded,  the 
Aquinases,  Papists,  Henrys,  fall  prostrate  before  the 
power  of  those  words. "J 

He  proceeds  to  refute  in  detail  the  king's  book,  and 
exposes  his  arguments,  one  after  the  other,  with  re- 
markable clearness,  energy,  and  knowledge  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  of  Church  history ;  but,  also,  with  a 
boldness  and  contempt,  and  at  times  a  violence,  which 
need  not  surprise  us. 

Toward  the  end,  Luther's  indignation  is  again  arous- 
ed, that  his  adversary  should  only  have  drawn  his  ar- 
guments from  the  Fathers ;  for  on  them  was  made  to 
turn  the  whole  controversy  :  "  To  all  the  decisions  of 
Fathers,  of  men,  of  angels,  of  devils,  I  oppose,"  says 
he,  "  not  the  antiquity  of  custom,  not  the  habits  of  the 
many,  but  the  word  of  the  Eternal  God — the  Gospel 
— which  they  themselves  are  obliged  to  admit.  It  is 
to  this  book  that  I  keep — upon  it  I  rest — in  it  I  make 
my  boast — in  it  I  triumph  and  exult  over  Papists,  Aqui- 
nases,  Henrys,  sophists,  and  all  the  swine  of  hell.  § 
The  King  of  Heaven  is  on  my  side — therefore  I  fear 
nothing,  though  even  a  thousand  Augustines,  a  thou- 
sand Cyprians,  and  a  thousand  such  churches,  as  that 
of  which  this  Henry  is  Defender,  should  rise  up  against 
me.  It  is  a  small  matter  that  I  should  despise  and  re- 

*  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  236.)  Mea  in  ipsos  exercebo  cornua,  irrita- 
turus  Satanam,  donee  effusis  viribus  et  cornatibus  corruat  in 
seipso. 

{ Ignis  et  furor  insulsissimorum  asinorum  et  Thomisticorum 
porcorum.  (Contra  Henricum  Regem,  Opp.  Lat.  ii.  p.  331.) 
There  is  something  in  this  way  of  speaking  which  recalls  to 
our  mind  the  language  of  the  great  agitator  of  Ireland,  except 
that  there  is  more  force  and  nobility  of  thought  in  the  orator 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  than  in  him  of  the  nineteenth.  (See 
Revue  Britanniqwe,  Nov.  1835  :  '  The  Reign  of  O'Connell'— 
"  Soaped  swine  of  civilized  society,"  &c.  p.  346.) 

;  Confusi  et  prostrati  jacent  a  facie  verborum  istius  tonitrui. 
(Contra  Henricum  regem.  Opp.  Lat.  ii.  p.  336.) 

§  Hie  sto,  hie  sedeo,  hie  maneo,  hie  glorior,  hie  triumpo,  hie 
insulto  papistis  ....  (Contra  Henricum  regem.  Opp.  Lat. 
iip.342.) 


vile  an  earthly  king,  since  he  himself  has  not  fear- 
ed, by  his  writings,  to  blaspheme  the  King  of  Hea- 
ven, and  profane  his  Holy  name  by  the  most  daring 
lies."* 

"  Papists  !"  he  exclaims,  in  conclusion,  "  will  you 
never  have  done  with  your  vain  attempts  1  Do,  then, 
what  ye  list.  Notwithstanding,  it  must  still  come  to 
pass,  that  popes,  bishops,  priests,  monks,  princes,  de» 
vils,  death,  sin — and  all  that  is  not  Jesus  Christ,  or  in 
Jesus  Christ — must  fall  and  perish  before  the  power  of 
this  Gospel,  which  I,  Martin  Luther,  have  preached. "T 

Thus  spake  an  unfriended  monk.  His  violence  cer- 
tainly cannot  be  excused,  if  we  judge  of  it  according 
to  the  rule  to  which  he  himself  was  ever  appealing, 
namely,  God's  word.  It  cannot  even  be  justified,  by 
pleading  in  extenuation,  the  grossness  of  the  age — 
(for  Melancthon  knew  how  to  observe  courtesy  of  lan- 
guage in  his  writings,) — nor  can  we  plead  the  energy 
of  his  character.  If  something  is  allowed  for  this, 
more  must  be  ascribed  to  the  violence  of  his  passions. 
It  is  better,  then,  that  we  should  give  our  judgment 
against  it.  Nevertheless,  justice  requires  the  remark, 
that,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  this  extravagant  lan- 
guage was  not  so  strange  as  it  would  be  at  this  time. 
The  learned  were,  like  the  nobles,  a  kind  of  estate. 
Henry,  in  attacking  Luther,  had  put  himself  in  the 
rank  of  a  man  of  letters.  Luther  replied  to  him  accord- 
ing to  the  law  which  obtained  in  the  republic  of  letters, 
viz.  that  the  truth  of  what  is  stated  is  to  be  considered, 
and  not  the  condition  in  life  of  him  who  states  it.  Let 
it  be  added,  also,  that  when  this  same  king  turned 
against  the  pope,  the  insults  heaped  upon  him  by  the 
Romish  writers,  and  by  the  pope  himself,  far  exceeded 
all  that  Luther  had  ever  fulminated  against  him. 

Besides,  if  Luther  did  call  Doctor  Eck  an  ass,  and 
Henry  VIII.  a  hog,  he  indignantly  rejected  the  inter- 
vention of  the  secular  arm  ;  at  the  time  that  the  for 
mer  was  writing  a  dissertation  to  show  that  heretics 
ought  to  be  burned,  and  the  latter  was  erecting  scaf- 
folds, that  he  might  follow  out  the  precepts  of  the 
Chancellor  of  Ingolstadt. 

Great  was  the  emotion  at  the  king's  court,  when 
Luther's  reply  arrived.  Surrey,  Wolsey,  and  the  rest 
of  the  courtiers,  put  a  stop  to  the  fetes  and  pageantry 
at  Greenwich,  to  vent  their  indignation  in  sarcasms 
and  abuse.  The  aged  Bishop  of  Rochester,  who  had 
looked  on  with  delight  at  the  youug  prince,  formerly 
confided  to  his  care,  breaking  a  lance  in  defence  of 
the  church,  was  stung  to  the  quick  by  the  monk's  at- 
tack. He  replied  to  it  at  the  moment.  His  words 
gave  a  good  idea  of  the  age,  and  of  the  church  :  "  Take 
us  the  little  foxes  that  spoil  the  vines,  says  Christ,  in 
Solomon's  Song  ;  from  this  we  learn,"  said  Fisher, 
"  that  we  ought  to  lay  hands  upon  heretics  before  they 
grow  big.  Luther  is  become  a  large  fox,  so  old,  so 
cunning,  so  mischievous,  that  it  is  very  difficult  to 
catch  him.  What  do  I  say — a  fox  1  He  is  a  mad 
dog,  a  ravening  wolf,  a  cruel  she- bear  ;  or  wither,  all 
these  put  together,  for  the  monster  includes  many 
beasts  within  him."J 

Thomas  More  also  descended  into  the  arena,  to  en- 
gage with  the  Monk  of  Wittemberg.  Although  a  laic, 
his  zeal  against  the  Reformation  amounted  to  fanati- 
cism, if  it  would  not  have  led  him  even  to  the  shed- 
ding of  blood.  When  young  men  of  family  take  np 
the  cause  of  the  papacy,  they  often,  in  their  violence, 
outdo  the  clergy  themselves.  "  Reverend  brother, 
father  tippler,  Luther,  apostate  of  the  order  of  St.  Au- 
gustine, (misshapen  bacchanalian,)  of  either  faculty, 

*  Nee  magnum  si  ego  regem  terrae  contemno.  (Cont.  Hen. 
reg.  p.  344.  verso.) 

t  3.  L.  Opp.  Leipz.  xviii.  p.  209. 

\  Canem  dixissen  rabidum,  imo  lupum  rapacissimum,  aut 
seevissimam  quamdam  ursam.  (Cochlaeus,  p.  60.) 


254 


HENRY  VIII.  AND  MORE-HENRY'S  LETTER— THE  REFORMATION. 


unlearned  doctor  of  sacred  theology."*  Thus  it  is 
the  Reformer  is  addressed  by  one  of  the  most  illustri- 
ous men  of  the  age.  Then  he  goes  on  to  say,  in  ex- 
Elanation  of  the  way  in  which  Luther  had  composed 
is  book,  against  Henry  VIII. :  "  He  assembled  his 
companions,  and  bid  them  go  each  his  own  way  to 
pick  up  scurrilities  and  insults.  One  frequented  the 
public  carriages  and  barges  ;  another,  the  baths  and 
gambling-houses  ;  this  one,  the  barbers'  shops  and 
low  taverns ;  that  one,  the  manufactory  and  the  house 
of  ill  fame.  They  took  down,  in  their  pocket-books, 
all  that  they  heard  of  insolence,  of  filthiness,  of  infa- 
my, and,  bringing  back  all  these  insults  and  impuri- 
ties, they  filled  with  them  that  dirty  sink,  which  is 
called  '  Luther's  wit'  "  Then  he  continues  :  "  If  he 
retracts  these  lies  and  calumnies  ;  if  he  puts  away 
these  fooleries,  and  this  rage  ;  if  he  swallows  down 

his  excrements  again  ;t he  will  find  one 

•who  will  soberly  discuss  with  him.  But  if  he  conti- 
nues as  he  has  begun,  joking,  taunting,  fooling,  ca- 
lumniating, vomiting  out  sinks  and  sewers % 

let  others  do  what  they  choose,  for  ourselves,  we  pre- 
fer leaving  the  little  man  to  his  own  anger  and  dirt- 
iness. "9  Thomas  More  would  have  done  better 
to  restrain  his  own  coarseness  ;  Luther  never  descend- 
ed to  such  a  style,  neither  did  he  return  it  any  an- 
swer. 

This  work  increased  Henry's  attachment  to  More. 
He  even  used  to  go  and  visit  him,  at  his  humble  resi- 
dence at  Chelsea.  After  dinner — his  arm  leaning  on 
the  shoulder  of  his  favourite,  the  king  would  walk 
round  the  garden  with  him,  while  the  astonished  wife 
of  his  flattered  host,  concealed  behind  a  lattice,  with 
her  children,  could  not  but  keep  her  eyes  fixed  on 
them.  After  one  of  these  walks,  More,  who  well 
knew  the  man  he  had  to  deal  with,  said  to  his  wife  : 
*'  If  my  head  could  gain  for  him  a  single  castle  in 
France,  he  would  not  hesitate  a  moment  to  take  it 
off." 

The  king,  thus  defended  by  the  Bishop  of  Roches- 
ter, and  by  his  future  chancellor,  needed  not  any  more 
to  resume  his  pen.  Confounded  at  the  thought  of  be- 
ing treated,  in  the  face  of  Europe,  as  any  common 
writer,  Henry  VIII.  abandoned  the  dangerous  position 
he  had  taken  ;  and,  laying  aside  the  pen  of  the  theolo- 
gian, had  recourse  to  the  more  effectual  measures  of 
diplomacy. 

An  ambassador  was  despatched  from  his  court,  at 
Greenwich,  with  a  letter  to  the  elector,  and  to  the 
dukes  of  Saxony.  "  The  true  serpent  cast  down  from 
heaven,  even  Luther,"  says  Henry,  "  casts  out  a  flood 
of  poison  upon  the  earth.  He  excites  revolt  in  the 
church  of  Jesus  Christ ;  he  abolishes  its  laws,  insults 
the  authorities,  inflames  the  laity  against  the  priest- 
hood, both  of  these  against  the  pope,  the  people  against 
kings,  and  asks  nothing  better  than  to  see  Christians 
fighting  against  and  destroying  one  another,  and  the 
enemies  of  our  faith  enjoying,  with  a  savage  grin,  the 
scene  of  carnage.  || 

*'  What  is  this  doctrine,  which  he  calls  evangelical, 
other  than  the  doctrine  of  Wickliffe  1  Now,  most  ho- 
noured uncles,  I  know  how  your  ancestors  have  la- 

»  Reverendus  frater,  potator,  Lutherus.  (Cochlaeus  p.  61.) 
t  f  Si ...  suas  resorbeat  et  sua  relingat  stercora.  (Ibid.  p.  62.) 

$  Sentinas,  cloacus,  latrinas  .  .  .  stercora.   (Ibid.  p.  63.) 

^  Cum  suis et  stercoribus  .  .  .  relinquere.  (Ibid.) 

Cochlaeus,  indeed,  glories  in  the  citation  of  these  passages, 
choosing  what,  according  to  his  taste,  he  thinks  the  finest 
parts  of  the  work  of  Thomas  More.  M  Nisard,  on  the  con- 
trary, confesses,  in  his  book  on  More,  whose  defence  he  un- 
dertakes with  so  much  warmth  and  learning,  that,  in  this 
"Writing,  the  expressions  dictated  by  the  anger  of  the  Catho- 
lic are  such,  that  the  translation  of  them  is  impossible. 

||  So  ergiest  er,  gleichwie  ein  Schlang  vom  Himmel  gewor- 
fen.  (L.  Opp.  xviii.  p.  212.)  The  original  is  in  Latin— Velut 
a  ccelo  dejectus  serpent,  virus  eflundit  in  terras. 


boured  to  destroy  it ;  they  pursued  it  as  a  wild  beast, 
in  Bohemia,  and  driving  it  till  it  fell  into  a  pit,  they 
shut  it  in  there,  and,  barricaded  it.  You  will  not,  I  am 
sure,  let  it  escape  through  your  negligence,  lest,  mak- 
ing its  way  into  Saxony,  it  should  become  master  of 
the  whole  of  Germany,  and,  with  smoking  nostrils, 
vomiting  forth  the  fire  of  hell,  spread  that  conflagra- 
tion far  and  wide,  which  your  nation  has  so  often 
wished  to  extinguish  in  its  blood.* 

"  Therefore  it  is,  most  worthy  lords,  I  feel  obliged 
to  exhort  you,  and  even  to  beseech  you,  by  all  that  is 
most  sacred,  promptly  to  extinguish  the  cursed  sect 
of  Luther.  Shed  no  blood,  if  it  can  be  avoided  ;  but 
if  this  heretical  doctrine  lasts,  shed  it  without  hesita- 
tion, in  order  that  this  abominable  sect  may  disappear 
from  under  the  heaven."t 

The  elector  and  his  brother  referred  the  king  to  the 
approaching  council.  Henry  VIII.  was  thus  as  far  as 
ever  from  his  object.  "  So  renowned  a  name  mixed 
up  in  the  dispute,"  says  Paolo  Sarpi,  "served  to  give 
it  a  greater  zest,  and  to  conciliate  general  favour' to- 
ward Luther,  as  is  usually  the  case  in  combats  and 
tournaments,  where  the  spectators  have  always  a  lean- 
ing to  the  weakest,  and  delight  to  exaggerate  the  me- 
rit of  his  actions."i 

In  fact,  an  immense  movement  was  in  progress. 
The  Reformation,  which,  after  the  Diet  of  Worms, 
had  been  thought  to  be  confined,  together  with  its  great 
teacher,  in  the  turret-chamber  of  a  strong  castle,  was 
breaking  forth,  on  all  sides  of  the  empire,  and  even 
throughout  Christendom.  The  two  parties,  until  now, 
mixed  up  together,  were  beginning  to  separate,  and 
the  partisans  of  a  monk,  who  had  nothing  on  his  side 
but  the  power  of  his  words,  were  fearlessly  taking  their 
stand  in  the  face  of  the  followers  of  Charles  V.  and 
Leo  X.  Luther  had  only  just  left  the  Wartburg,  the 
pope  had  excommunicated  all  his  adherents,  the  impe- 
rial Diet  had  just  condemned  his  doctrine,  the  princes 
were  active  in  putting  it  down  throughout  the  greatest 
part  of  the  German  states,  the  Romish  priests  were 
setting  the  public  against  it  by  their  violent  invective, 
foreign  nations  were  requiring  that  Germany  should 
sacrifice  a  man,  whose  attacks  were  formidable,  even 
at  a  distance,  and  yet,  this  new  sect,  few  in  number, 
and  among  whose  numbers  there  was  no  organization, 
no  acting  in  concert,  nothing,  in  short,  of  concentrated 
power,  was  already,  by  the  energy  of  the  faith  engaged 
in  it,  and  the  rapidity  of  its  conquests  of  the  minds  of 
men,  beginning  to  cause  alarm  to  the  vast,  ancient, 
and  powerful  sovereignty  of  Rome.  Everywhere  was 
to  be  seen,  as  in  the  first  appearance  of  spring- time, 
the  seed  bursting  forth  from  the  earth,  spontaneously 
and  without  effort.  Every  day  some  progress  might 
be  remarked.  Individuals,  village  populations,  coun- 
try-towns, nay,  large  cities,  joined  in  this  new  confes- 
sion of  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  was  met  by 
strong  opposition  and  fierce  persecution,  but  the  mys- 
terious power , which  animated  these  people,  was  irre- 
sistible ;  and,  though  persecuted,  they  still  went  for- 
ward, facing  the  terrors  of  exile,  imprisonment,  or 
the  stake,  and  were  everywhere  more  than  conquerors 
over  their  persecutors. 

The  monastic  orders,  which  Rome  had  planted  over 
the  whole  of  Christendom,  like  nets  for  catching  souls, 
and  retaining  them  in  their  meshes,  were  among  the 
first  to  burst  their  fetters,  and  to  propagate  the  new 
doctrine  in  every  part  of  the  western  church.  The  Au- 
gustines  of  Saxony  had  gone  along  with  Luther,  and, 
like  him,  formed  that  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
Word  of  Truth,  which,  making  God  their  portion,  dis- 

*  Und  durch  sein  schadlich  Anblasen  das  hollische  Feuer 
ausspruke.  (L.  Opp.  xviii.  p.  213.) 

t  Oder  aber  auch  mit  blut  Vergiesssen.     (Ibid.) 

{  Hist.  Council  of  Trent,  p.  15,  16. 


THE  FRANCISCANS-THE  PEOPLE  AND  PRIESTS— NEW  PREACHERS. 


255 


abused  their  minds  from  the  delusions  of  Rome,  and 
its  lofty  pretensions.  But  in  other  convents  of  this 
order,  the  light  of  the  Gospel  had  also  shone  forth — 
sometimes  among  the  aged,  who,  like  Staupitz,  had 
preserved,  in  the  midst  of  a  leavened  Christianity,  the 
sound  doctrines  of  truth,  and  were  now  asking  of  God 
that  they  might  depart  in  peace,  since  their  eyes  had 
seen  his  salvation.  Sometimes  among  the  young, 
among  those  who  had  imbibed  Luther's  instructions 
with  the  characteristic  eagerness  of  their  years.  At 
Nuremberg,  Osnabruck,  Dillingen,  Ratisbon,  in  Hes- 
se, in  Wirtemberg,  at  Strasburgh,  at  Antwerp,  the  con- 
vents of  the  Augustines  were  returning  to  the  faith  of 
Christ,  and,  by  their  courageous  confession,  exciting 
the  indignation  of  Rome. 

But  the  movement  was  not  confined  to  the  Augus- 
tines. Men  of  decided  character,  among  the  other  or- 
ders, followed  their  example  ;  and,  notwithstanding 
the  clamours  of  their  fellow-monks,  who  were  unwil- 
ling to  abandon  their  carnal  observances,  and  undeter- 
red by  their  anger  and  contempt,  or  by  censure,  dis- 
cipline, and  claustral  imprisonment,  they  fearlessly 
lifted  up  their  voices  in  favour  of  that  holy  and  pre- 
cious truth,  which,  after  so  many  toilsome  researches, 
so  many  distressing  doubts  and  inward  conflicts,  they 
had  at  last  found.  In  the  majority  of  the  cloisters, 
the  most  spiritual,  devout,  and  instructed  monks,  de- 
clared themselves  in  favour  of  the  Reformation.  Eber- 
lin  and  Kettembach  attacked,  from  the  convents  of 
the  Franciscans  at  Ulm,  the  service  of  bondage  of 
monkery,  and  the  superstitious  practices  of  the  church, 
with  an  eloquence  that  might  have  drawn  a  whole  na- 
tion after  it.  They  introduced  in  their  petition,  in  the 
same  sentence,  a  request  for  the  abolition  of  the  houses 
of  the  monks,  and  those  of  prostitution.  Another 
Franciscan,  Stephen  Kempe,  preached  the  Gospel  at 
Hamburg,  and,  though  alone,  set  his  face,  like  a  flint, 
against  the  hatred,  envy,  threats,  cunning,  and  violence 
of  the  priests — enraged  to  see  the  congregation  for- 
sake their  altars,  and  flock,  with  enthusiasm,  to  his 
preaching.* 

Sometimes  it  was  the  superiors  themselves,  who  were 
first  won  over  to  the  Reformation.  The  priors  at  Hal- 
berstadt,  at  Neunwerk,  at  Halle,  at  Sagan,  set  the  ex- 
ample, in  this  respect,  to  those  under  their  authority  ; 
at  least,  they  declared  that  if  a  monk  felt  his  conscience 
burdened  by  his  monastic  vows,  so  far  from  insisting 
on  his  remaining  in  the  convent,  they  would  themselves 
carry  him  out  on  their  shoulders.t  ' 

In  fact,  in  all  parts  of  Germany  might  be  seen  monks 
leaving,  at  the  gates  of  the  monastery,  their  frock  and 
cowl.  Of  these,  some  had  been  expelled  by  the  vio- 
lence of  their  fellows,  or  of  their  superiors  ;  others,  of 
a  gentle  and  peaceable  spirit,  could  no  longer  endure 
the  continually  recurring  disputes,  insults,  recrimina- 
tions, and  animosities,  which  pursued  them  from  morn- 
ing till  night.  Of  all  these,  the  greater  number  were 
convinced  that  the  monastic  vows  were  inconsistent 
with  the  will  of  God  and  the  Christian  life.  Some  had 
gradually  been  led  to  this  conviction  ;  others  had 
reached  it  at  once,  by  considering  a  single  text.  The 
indolent,  heavy  ignorance,  which  generally  marked  the 
mendicant  orders,  communicated  a  feeling  of  disgust 
to  men  of  more  intelligent  minds,  who  could  no  longer 
endure  the  society  of  such  associates.  A  Franciscan, 
begging  his  way,  one  day  presented  himself,  box  in 
hand,  at  a  blacksmith's  shop,  in  Nuremberg.  "  Why 
don't  you  get  your  bread  by  working  with  your  own 
hands  ?"  inquired  the  blacksmith.  Thus  invited,  the 
sturdy  monk,  tossing  from  him  his  habit,  lifted  the  ham- 

*  Der  iibrigen  Prediger  Feinpschafft,  Neid,  Nachstellungen, 
Praticken  und  Schrecken.  (Seckendorf,  p.  559.) 

f  Seckendorf,  p.  811.    StenzeL  Script.  Res  Siles.  I.  p.  45. 


mer,  and  brought  it  down  again  with  force  upon  the 
anvil.  Behold  the  useless  mendicant  transformed  into 
the  industrious  workman  !  The  box  and  monk's  gown 
were  sent  back  to  the  monastery.* 

It  was  not,  however,  the  monks  only,  who  ranged 
themselves  under  the  standard  of  evangelical  truth  ;  a 
far  greater  number  of  priests  proclaimed  the  new  doc- 
trine. But  it  needed  not  to  be  promulgated  by  hu- 
man organs  ;  it  often  acted  upon  men's  minds,  and 
aroused  them  from  their  deep  slumber,  without  the  in- 
strumentality of  a  preacher. 

Luther's  writings  were  read  in  the  boroughs,  cities, 
and  hamlets  ;  even  the  village  schoolmaster  had  his 
fireside  audience.  Some  persons  in  each  locality,  im- 
pressed with  what  they  had  heard,  consulted  the  Bible 
to  relieve  their  uncertainty,  and  were  struck  with  the 
marked  contrast  between  the  Christianity  of  Scripture 
and  that  which  they  had  imbibed.  Fluctuating,  for  a. 
while,  between  Romanism  and  Holy  Writ,  they  ere 
long  took  refuge  in  that  living  Word  which  had  beamed 
into  their  minds  with  such  new  and  cheering  lustre. 
While  these  changes  were  passing  in  their  minds,  an 
evangelical  preacher — he  might  be  a  priest,  or,  per- 
haps, a  monk — would  appear.  He  speaks  with  elo- 
quence and  authority, t  proclaiming  that  Christ  has 
fully  atoned  for  the  sins  of  his  people,  and  proves  from 
the  sacred  word,  the  vanity  of  human  works  and  pe- 
nance. Such  preaching  excited  terrible  opposition ; 
the  clergy,  in  numerous  instances,  aided  by  the  ma- 
gistrates, used  every  efiort  to  bring  back  those  whose 
souls  were  escaping  from  bondage.  But  there  was, 
in  the  new  preaching,  an  accordance  with  Scripture, 
and  a  secret,  but  irresistible  energy,  which  won  the 
heart,  and  subdued  the  most  rebellious.  Risking  the 
loss  of  property,  and,  if  needful,  the  loss  of  life  itself, 
men  deserted  the  barren,  fanatical  preachers  of  the  pa- 
pacy, and  enrolled  themselves  under  the  Gospel  ban- 
ner.t  Sometimes  the  people,  irritated  at  the  thought 
how  long  they  had  been  duped,  drove  away  the  priests; 
but  more  frequently  these  latter,  forsaken  by  their  flocks, 
without  tithes  or  offerings,  went  off,  with  desponding 
hearts,  to  earn  a  livelihood  in  distant  places. $  While 
the  defenders  of  the  ancient  hierarchy  withdrew  in  sul- 
len dejection,  pronouncing  maledictions,  as  they  took 
leaVe  of  their  former  flocks — the  people,  whom  truth 
and  liberty  filled  with  transports  of  joy,  surrounded  the 
new  preachers  with  acclamations ;  and,  in  their  eager- 
ness to  hear  the  Word,  bore  them,  as  in  triumph,  into 
the  churches  and  pulpits.H 

A  word  of  power,  from  God  himself,  was  re- 
moulding society.  In  many  instances,  the  people, 
or  the  principal  citizens,  wrote  to  a  man  whose  faith 
they  knew,  urging  him  to  come  and  instruct  them  ;  and 
he,  for  the  love  of  the  truth,  would,  at  their  call,  at 
once  leave  his  worldly  interests,  his  family,  friends, 
and  country. IT  Persecution  often  compelled  the  fa- 
vourers of  the  Reformation  to  abandon  their  dwellings 
— they  arrive  in  a  place  where  the  new  doctrines  have 
never  yet  been  heard  of ;  they  find  there  some  hospi- 
table roof,  offering  shelter  to  houseless  travellers ;  there 
they  speak  of  the  Gospel,  and  read  a  few  pages  to  the 
listening  townsmen,  and  perhaps,  by  the  intercession 
of  their  new  acquaintances,  obtain  leave  to  preach  a 
sermon  in  the  church.  Immediately  the  Word  spreads 

*  Rankc,  Deutsche  Gcschichte,  ii.  p.  70. 

t  Eaque  omnia  prompte,  alacriter,  eloquentcr.  (Cochlacus, 
p.  62.) 

t  Populo  odibiles  catholic!  concionatores.  (Cochlaeus,  p. 
52.) 

§  Ad  extrcmam  redact!  inopiam,  aliunde  sibi  victum  quae- 
rere  cogerentur.  (Ibid.  p.  63.) 

||  Triumphantibus  novis  praedicatoribus  qui  sequacem  po- 
pulum  verbo  novi  Evangelii  sui  ducebant.  (Ibid.) 

1T  Multi,  omissa  re  domestics,  in  speciem  veri  Evangelii, 
I  parentes  et  amicos  relinquebant.  (Ibid.) 


256 


RELIGION  AND  LITERATURE— THE  PRESS—LUTHER'S  WRITINGS. 


like  fire  through  the  town,  and  no  efforts  can  stay  its 
progress.*  If  not  permitted  to  preach  in  the  church, 
the  preaching  took  place  elsewhere,  and  every  place 
became  a  temple.  At  Husum,  in  Holstein,  Herman 
Tast,  then  on  his  way  from  Wittemberg,  and  to  whom 
the  parochial  clergy  denied  the  use  of  the  church, 
preached  to  an  immense  multitude  under  the  shade  of 
two  large  trees,  adjoining  the  churchyard,  not  far  from 
the  spot  where,  seven  centuries  before,  Anschar  had 
first  proclaimed  the  Gospel  to  a  heathen  auditory.  At 
Armstadt,  Gaspard  Gittel,  an  Augustine  friar,  preached 
in  the  market-place.  At  Dantzic,  the  Gospel  was  pro- 
claimed from  an  eminence  outside  the  city.  At  Goss- 
lar,  a  student  of  Wittemberg  opened  the  new  doctrines, 
in  a  plain  planted  with  lime-trees,  from  which  circum- 
stance, the  evangelical  Christians  there  obtained  the 
appellation  of  "  The  Lime-tree  brethren." 

While  the  priests  were  exposing,  before  the  eyes  of 
the  people,  their  sordid  avidity,  the  new  preachers,  in 
addressing  them,  said :  "  Freely  we  have  received — 
freely  do  we  give,"f  The  observation  often  dropped 
by  the  new  preachers  in  the  pulpit,  that  Rome  had  of 
old  given  to  the  nations  a  corrupted  Gospel,  so  that 
Germany  now  first  heard  the  Word  of  Christ,  in  its 
divine  and  primitive  beauty,  made  a  deep  impression 
upon  all ;{  and  the  grand  thought  of  the  equality  of 
all  men  in  the  universal  brotherhood  of  Jesus  Christ, 
elevated  the  souls  which  had  so  long  borne  the  yoke 
of  the  feudality  and  papacy  of  the  middle  ages.§ 

Simple  Christians  were  often  seen  with  the  New 
Testament  in  hand,  offering  to  justify  the  doctrine  of 
the  Reformation.  The  Catholics,  who  adhered  to 
Rome,  drew  back  in  dismay  ;  for  the  study  of  holy 
Scripture  was  reserved  to  the  priests  and  monks 
alone.  The  latter,  being  thus  compelled  to  come  for- 
ward, discussion  ensued  ;  but  the  priests  and  monks 
were  soon  overwhelmed  with  the  Scriptures  quoted  by 
the  laity,  and  at  a  loss  how  to  meet  them.H  "Un- 
happily," says  Cochlaeus,  "  Luther  had  persuaded  his 
followers,  that  their  faith  ought  only  to  be  given  to  the  ora- 
cles of  holy  writ."  Often  clamours  were  heard  in  the 
crowd,  denouncing  the  shameful  ignorance  of  the  old 
theologians,  who  had,  till  then,  been  regarded  by  their 
own  party  as  among  the  most  eminently  learned. IT 

Men  of  the  humblest  capacity,  and  ever,  the  weaker 
sex,  by  the  help  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Word,  per- 
suaded and  prevailed  with  many.  Extraordinary  times 
produced  extraordinary  actions.  At  Ingolstadt,  a  young 
weaver  read  the  works  of  Luther  to  a  crowded  con- 
gregation, in  the  very  place  where  Doctor  Eck  was 
residing.  The  university-council  of  the  same  town, 
having  resolved  to  oblige  a  disciple  of  Melancthon,  to 
retract — a  woman,  named  Argula  de  Staufen,  volun- 
teered to  defend  him,  and  challenged  the  doctors  to  a 
public  disputation.  Women,  children,  artisans,  and 
soldiers,  had  acquired  a  greater  knowledg  of  the  Bible, 
than  learned  doctors,  or  surpliced  priests. 

Christianity  was  presented  in  two- fold  array,  and 
under  aspects  strikingly  contrasted.  Opposed  to  the 
old  defenders  of  the  hierarchy,  who  had  neglected  the 
acquirement  of  the  languages,  and  the  cultivation  of 
literature,  (we  have  it  on  the  authority  of  one  of  them- 
selves,) was  a  generous-minded  youth,  most  of  them 
devoted  to  study,  and  the  investigation  of  the  Scrip 
tures,  and  acquainted  with  the  literary  treasures  of  an- 

*  Ubi  vero  aliquos  nacti  fuissent  amices  in  ea  civitate  . 
(Cochlseus,  p.  64.) 

f  Mira  eis  erat  liberalitas.    (Ibid.) 

j  Earn  usque  diem  nunquam  germane  pradicatam.  (Coch 
laeus,  p.  53.> 

^  Omnes  sequales  et  fratres  in  Christo.   (Ibid.) 


II  A  laicis  Lutheranis,  plures  Scripturae  locos,  quam  a  mo 
his  et  praesbyteris.  (Ibid.  p.  54.) 


nach 


1T  Reputabantur  catholic!  ab  illis   igiiari    Scripturarum 
(Ibid.) 


iquity.*  Gifted  with  quickness  of  apprehension,  ele- 
ction of  soul,  and  intrepidity  of  heart,  these  youths 
soon  attained  such  proficiency,  that  none  could  com- 
>ete  with  them.  It  was  not  only  the  vigour  of  their 
"aith  which  raised  them  above  their  contemporaries, 
but  an  elegance  of  style,  a  perfume  of  antiquity,  a 
sound  philosophy,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  world,  of 
which  the  theologians,  veteris  farina,  (as  Cochlaeus 
limself  terms  them,)  were  altogether  destitute.  So  that 
on  public  occasions,  on  which  these  youthful  defenders 
of  the  Reformation  encountered  the  Romish  doctors, 
heir  assault  was  carried  on  with  an  ease  and  confi- 
dence that  embarrassed  the  dulness  of  their  adversa- 
ries, and  exposed  them,  before  all,  to  deserved  con- 
empt. 

The  anceint  structure  of  the  Church  was  thus  totter- 
ng  under  the  weight  of  superstition  and  ignorance, 
while  the  new  edifice  was  rising  from  its  foundations 
of  faith  and  learning.  The  elements  of  a  new  life 
were  diffused  among  the  general  body  of  the  people. 
Listless  dulness  was  everywhere  succeeded  by  an  in- 
quiring disposition  and  a  thirst  for  information.  An 
active,  enlightened,  and  living  faith,  took  the  place  of 
superstitious  piety  and  ascetic  meditations.  Works 
of  true  devotedness  superseded  mere  outward  obser- 
vance and  penances.  The  pulpit  prevailed  over  the 
mere  mummeries  of  the  altar,  and  the  ancient  and 
supreme  authority  of  God's  word  was,  at  length,  re- 
established in  the  Church. 

The  art  of  printing,  that  mighty  engine,  the  disco- 
very of  which  marks  the  fifteenth  century,  came  to  the 
assistance  of  the  efforts  we  are  now  recording ;  and 
ts  weighty  missiles  were  continually  discharged 
against  the  enemy's  walls. 

The  impulse  which  the  Reformation  gave  to  popular 
literature,  in  Germany,  was  prodigious.  While  the 
year  1513  saw  only  thirty-five  publications,  and  1517 
but  thirty-seven,  the  number  of  books  increased  with 
astonishing  rapidity  after  the  appearance  of  Luther's 
theses.  We  find,  in  1518,  seventy-one  various  publi- 
cations recorded  ;  in  1519,  one  hundred  and  eleven  ; 
in  1520,  two  hundred  and  eight ;  in  1521,  two  hundred 
and  eleven  ;  in  1522,  three  hundred  and  forty-seven  ; 
and,  in  1523,  four  hundred  and  ninety-eight.  And 
where  were  all  these  books  published  ?  Almost  inva- 
riably at  Wittemberg.  And  who  was  the  author  of 
them  ?  For  the  most  part,  Luther.  The  year  1522, 
saw  one  hundred  and  thirty  publications  from  the  pen 
of  the  Reformer  alone ;  and  the  following  year,  one 
hundred  and  eighty-three  ;  while  in  this  latter  year, 
the  total  number  of  Roman  Catholic  publications 
amounted  to  but  twenty.!  Thus,  the  literature  of 
Germany  was  formed  in  the  din  of  controversy,  as  its 
religion  arose  in  the  midst  of  conflicts.  Already  it 
gave  evidence  of  that  learned,  profound,  bold,  and 
stirring  spirt,  that  latter  times  have  seen  in  it.  The 
genius  of  the  nation  now,  for  the  first  time,  displayed 
itself  without  mixture,  and  in  the  very  hour  of  its  birth 
it  received  a  baptism  of  fire  from  Christian  enthusiasm. 

Whatever  Luther  and  his  friends  composed,  others 
disseminated  far  and  wide.  Monks,  who  had  been  led 
to  see  the  unlawfulness  of  the  monastic  obligations, 
and  desirous  of  exchanging  a  life  of  indolence  for  one 
of  activity,  but  too  ignorant  to  be  able  themselves  to 
proclaim  the  Word  of  God,  traversed  the  provinces, 
and,  visiting  the  hamlets  and  cottages,  sold  the  writ- 
ings of  Luther  and  his  friends.  Germany  was,  ere 
long,  overrun  with  these  enterprising  colporteurs. t 

*  Totam  vero  joventutem,eloquentioe  litteris,  linguarumque 
studio  deditam  .  .  .  inpartemsuamtraxit.  (Cochlaeus.  p.  54.) 

t  Panzer's  Annalen  der  Deutsch  Litt.— Ranke's  Deutsch 
Gesch.  ii.  p.  79. 

\  Apostatarum,  monasteriis  relictis,  infinitus  jam  erat  nu- 
merus,  in  speciem  bibliopolarum.  (Cochlaeus,  p.  54.) 


LUTHER  AT  ZWICKAU— DUKE  HENRY— IBACH  AT  ROME. 


257 


Printers  and  booksellers  eagerly  received  whatever 
writings  were  directed  to  the  defence  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, but  would  not  look  at  those  of  the  opposite  party, 
as  savouring  generally  of  ignorance  and  barbarism.* 
If  any  of  these  men,  however,  ventured  to  sell  a  book 
in  favour  of  papacy,  or  to  offer  it  for  sale  at  Frankfort 
or  elsewhere,  he  drew  upon  himself  a  torrent  of  ridi- 
cule and  sarcasm  from  dealers,  publishers  and  scholars,  t 
Vainly  had  the  Emperor  and  the  reigning  princes  ful- 
minated severe  edicts  against  the  writings  of  the  Re- 
formers. As  soon  as  an  inquisitorial  visit  was  deter- 
mined on.  the  dealers,  (who  secretly  obtained  infor- 
mation of  it,)  would  conceal  the  books  which  it  was 
intended  to  prescribe  ;  and  the  people,  ever  eager  to 
possess  that  of  which  authority  would  deprive  them, 
would  afterward  buy  them  up,  and  read  them  with  re- 
doubled ardour.  It  was  not  alone  Germany  that  was  the 
theatre  of  such  incidents,  the  writings  of  Luther  were 
translated  into  French,  Spanish,  English,  and  Italian, 
and  were  circulated  among  those  nations. 

If  instruments  so  despised  could  yet  inflict  such 
disaster  on  the  power  of  Rome,  what  was  it  when  the 
monk  of  Wittemberg  was  heard  to  raise  his  voice  ? 
Shortly  after  the  discomfiture  of  the  strange  prophets, 
Luther  traversed  the  territory  of  Duke  George,  in  a 
waggon,  attired  in  plain  clothes.  His  gown  was 
carefully  concealed,  and  the  Reformer  wore  the  dis- 
guise of  a  countryman.  Had  he  been  recognised,  and 
so  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  exasperated  Duke,  it 
had,  perhaps,  been  all  over  with  him.  He  was  on  his 
way  to  preach  at  Zwickau,  the  birth-place  of  the  pre- 
tended prophets.  Scarcely  was  it  known  at  Schnee- 
berg,  Annaberg,  and  the  neighbouring  towns,  when 
numbers  flocked  to  hear  him.  Fourteen  thousand  per- 
sons arrived  in  the  town,  and  as  there  was  no  edifice 
which  could  contain  so  great  a  multitude,  Luther 
preached  from  the  balcony  of  the  town-hall  to  twenty- 
five  thousand  auditors,  who  thronged  the  market-place 
— and  of  whom  several  had  climbed  to  the  top  of 
some  stones  that  lay  heaped  together  near  the  hall.+ 
The  servant  of  Jesus  Christ  was  expiating  with  fer- 
vour on  the  election  of  grace,  when  suddenly  a  shriek 
proceeded  from  the  midst  of  the  rivetted  auditory.  An 
old  woman,  of  haggard  mein,  who  had  stationed  her- 
self on  a  large  block  of  stones,  was  seen  motioning  with 
her  lank  arms  as  though  she  would  controul  the  mul- 
titude just  about  to  fall  postrate  at  the  feet  of  Jesus. 
Her  wild  yells  interrupted  the  preacher.  "  It  was  the 
devil,"  says  Seckendorf,  "  who  took  the  form  of  an  old 
woman,  in  order  to  excite  a  tumult."^  But  vain  was 
the  effort ;  the  Reformer's  word  put  the  evil  spirit  to 
silence  ;  an  enthusiasm  communicated  itself  from  one 
to  another,  looks  and  warm  greetings  were  exchanged, 
the  people  pressed  each  other  by  the  hand,  and  the 
friars,  not  knowing  what  to  make  of  what  they  saw, 
and  unable  to  charm  down  the  tempest,  soon  found  it 
necessary  to  take  their  departure  from  Zwickau. 

In  the  castle  of  Freyberg  resided  Duke  Henry, 
brother  of  Duke  George.  His  wife,  the  Princess  of 
Mecklenburg,  had,  the  preceding  year,  presented  him 
with  a  son,  who  was  christened  Maurice.  Duke  Henry 
united  the  bluntness  and  coarse  manners  of  the  soldier 
to  a  passion  for  the  pleasures  of  the  table,  and  the  pursuits 
of  dissipation.  He  was,  withal,  pious  after  the  manner 
of  the  age  in  which  he  lived  ;  he  had  visited  the  Holy 
Land,  and  had  also  gone  on  pilgrimage  to  the  shrine  of  St 

*  Catholicorum,  velut  indocta  et  veteris  barbaric!  trivialia 
scripta  contemnebant.  (Cochlseus,  p.  54.) 

t  In  publicis  mercatibus  Fraucofordiae  et  alibi,  vexaban- 
tur  ac  ridebuntur.  (Ibid.) 

t  Von  dem  Rathhaus  unter  eniem  Zulauf  von  25,000  Men 
schen.  (Secb.  p.  539.) 

§  Der  Teufel  indem  er  sich  in  Gestalt  eines  alten  Weibes 
.  .  (Ibid.) 


James,  at  Compostella.  He  would  often  say,  "  When 
[  was  at  Compostella,  I  deposited  a  hundred  gold  flo- 
rins on  the  altar  of  the  Saint,  and  I  said  to  him — •  0  ! 
St.  James,  it  is  to  gain  your  favour  I  have  made  this 
journey.  I  make  you  a  present  of  this  money  ;  but  if 
hose  knaves  (the  priests)  steal  it  from  you,  I  can't  help 
t  ;  so  you  take  care  of  it.'  "* 

Two  friars,  (a  Franciscan  and  a  Dominican,)  disci- 
)les  of  Luther,  had  been  for  some  time  preaching  the 
Gospel  at  Freyberg.  The  Duchess,  whose  piety  had 
nspired  her  with  a  horror  of  heresy,  attended  their 
sermons,  and  was  all  astonishment  at  discovering  that 
what  she  had  been  taught  so  much  to  dread,  was  the 
gracious  word  of  a  Saviour.  Gradually,  her  eyes 
were  opened  ;  and  she  found  peace  in  Jesus  Christ. 
The  moment  Duke  George  learned  that  the  Gospel 
was  preached  at  Freyberg,  he  begged  his  brother 
to  resist  the  introduction  of  such  novelties.  The 
Chancellor  Stehelin,  and  the  canons,  seconded  these 
representations  with  their  fanatical  zeal.  A  violent  ex- 
plosion took  place  at  the  court  of  Freyberg.  Duke 
Henry  sternly  reprimanded  and  reproached  his  wife, 
and  more  than  once  the  pious  Duchess  was  known  to 
shed  tears  over  the  cradle  of  her  babe.  By  slow  de- 
crees, however,  she  melted  the  heart  of  her  husband. 
This  man,  so  stern  by  nature,  softened  down.  A 
sweet  harmony  was  established  between  them ;  at 
ength,  they  were  enabled  to  join  in  prayer  beside  their 
nfant  son.  Great  and  untold  destinies  hovered  above 
that  son ;  and  from  that  cradle,  where  the  Christian 
mother  had  so  often  poured  out  her  sorrows,  was  to 
come  forth  one  whom  God  in  his  own  time  would  use 
as  a  defender  of  the  Reformation. 

The  intrepidity  of  Luther  had  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion on  the  inhabitants  of  Worms.  The  Imperial  De- 
cree overawed  the  magistrates  ;  the  churches  were  all 
closed  ;  but  a  preacher,  taking  his  stand  on  a  rudely- 
constructed  pulpit,  in  a  square  thronged  with  an  im- 
mense multitude,  proclaimed  the  glad  tidings  with  per- 
suasive earnestness.  If  the  authorities  showed  a  dis- 
position to  interfere,  the  people  dispersed  in  an  instant, 
hastily  carrying  off  their  pulpit ;  but  no  sooner  had  the 
officers  of  authority  passed  by,  than  they  again  erected 
their  pulpit  in  some  more  retired  spot,  to  which  the 
multitude  would  again  flock  together,  to  hear  more  of 
the  Word  of  Jesus  Christ.  This  temporary  pulpit 
was  every  day  set  up  in  one  spot  or  another,  and  served 
as  a  rallying  point  for  the  people,  who  were  still  under 
the  influence  of  the  emotions  awakened  by  the  drama 
lately  enacted  in  Worms. t 

At  Frankfort  on  the  Maine,  one  of  the  most  consi- 
derable free  cities  of  the  empire,  all  was  commotion. 
A  courageous  evangelist,  Ibach,  preached  salvation  by 
Jesus  Christ.  The  clergy,  among  whom  was  Coch- 
laeus,  known  by  his  writings,  and  his  opposition  to  the 
Reformation,  irritated  by  the  daring  intrusion  of  such 
a  colleague,  denounced  him  to  the  Archbishop  of 
Mentz.  The  Council,  though  with  some  timidity,  ne- 
vertheless supported  him ;  but  without  avail,  The 
clergy  expelled  the  evangelical  minister,  and  obliged 
him  to  quit  Frankfort.  Rome  appeared  triumphant ; 
all  seemed  lost ;  and  private  Christians  began  to  fear 
that  they  were  for  ever  deprived  of  the  preaching  of 
the  Word :  but  at  the  very  moment  when  the  citizens 
seemed  disposed  to  submit  to  the  tyranny  of  their 
priests,  certain  nobles  suddenly  declared  themselves 
for  the  Gospel.  Max,  of  Molnheim,  Harmut,  of  Cron- 
berg,  George,  of  Stockheim,  and  Emeric,  of  Reiffen- 
stein,  whose  estates  lay  near  Frankfort,  wrote  to  the 
Council : — "  We  are  constrained  to  make  a  stand 

*  Lassat  du  dir's  die  Buben  nehmen  ....  (Ibid.  p.  430.) 
t  So  liessen  sic  eine  Canzel  machen,  die  man  von  einem  Ort 
zum  andern  .  .  (Seek.  p.  436.) 


258 


DIFFUSION  OF  THE  LIGHT— PRINCIPLE  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


against  those  spiritual  wolves."  And,  in  addressing 
the  clergy,  they  said : — Either  embrace  evangelical 
doctrines  and  recall  Ibach,  or  we  will  pay  no  more 
tithes." 

The  common  people,  who  listened  gladly  to  the  re- 
formed opinions,  emboldened  by  this  language  of  the 
nobles,  showed  symptoms  of  agitation ;  and  one  day, 
when  Peter  Mayer,  the  persecutor  of  Ibach,  and  who, 
of  all  the  priests,  was  the  most  hostile  to  the  new  opi- 
nions, was  on  the  point  of  preaching  against  heretics, 
a  violent  tumult  broke  forth,  and  Mayer,  in  alarm,  re- 
treated from  the  pulpit.  This  popular  movement  de- 
cided the  determination  of  the  Council.  An  ordinance 
was  published,  enjoining  all  ministers  to  preach  the 
pure  Word  of  God,  or  to  quit  the  town. 

The  light  which  shone  forth  from  Wittemberg,  as 
from  the  heart  of  the  nation,  was  thus  diffusing  itself 
throughout  the  empire.  In  the  west — Berg,  Cleves. 
Lippstadt,  Munster,  Wesel,  Miltenberg,  Mentz,  Deux 
Ponts,  and  Strasburg,  heard  the  'joyful  sound.'  In 
the  south — Hoff,  Schlesstadt,  Bamberg,  Esslingen, 
Hall,  in  Suabia,)  Heilbrunn,  Augsburg,  Ulm,  and 
many  other  places,  welcomed  it  with  joy.  lu  the  east — 
the  Duchy  of  Leignitz,  Prussia,  and  Pomerania,  re- 
ceived it  with  open  arms.  In  the  north — Brunswick, 
Halberstadt,  Gossler,  Zell,  Friesland,  Bremen,  Ham- 
burg, Holstein,  and  even  Denmark,  and  other  adja- 
cent countries,  moved  at  the  sounds  of  the  new  teach- 
ing. 

The  elector  had  declared  that  he  would  give  full  li- 
berty to  the  bishops  to  preach  in  his  dominions  ;  but 
that  he  would  not  deliver  anyone  into  their  hands.  Ac- 
cordingly, the  evangelical  preachers,  persecuted  in  other 
countries,  were  soon  driven  to  take  refuge  in  Saxony. 
Among  these  were — Ibach,  from  Frankfort,  Eberlin, 
from  Ulm,  Kanadorff,  from  Magdeburg,  Valentine  Mus- 
taeus,*  whom  the  canons  of  Halberstadt  had  horribly 
mutilated,  and  other  faithful  ministers,  from  all  parts 
of  Germany,  flocked  to  Wittemberg,  as  to  the  only 
asylum  of  which  they  felt  secure.  Here  they  could 
hold  converse  with  the  leading  Reformers,  thereby 
strengthening  themselves  in  the  faith,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  communicating  the  experience  each  one  had 
gained,  together  with  the  information  he  had  acquired. 
It  is  thus  that  the  waters  of  our  rivers  return,  borne 
in  the  clouds  from  the  vast  expanse  of  ocean,  to  feed 
the  glaciers  whence  they  first  descended,  to  flow  through 
the  plain. 

The  work  which  was,  at  this  time  developing  itself, 
at  Wittemberg,  composed,  as  has  been  seen,  of  various 
elements,  became,  from  day  to  day,  increasingly,  the 
work  of  that  nation,  of  Europe,  and  of  Christendom. 
The  school  which  Frederic  had  founded,  and  into  which 
Luther  had  introduced  the  Word  of  Life,  was  the  cen- 
tre of  that  wide-spreading  revolution  which  regenerated 
the  Church ;  and  from  it  the  Reformation  derived  a 
true  and  a  living  unity,  far  above  the  semblance  of  unity 
that  might  be  seen  in  Rome.  The  Bible  was  the  su- 
preme authority  at  Wittemberg,  and  there  its  doctrines 
were  heard  on  all  sides.  This  academy,  though  the 
most  recent  of  all  in  its  origin,  had  acquired  a  rank  and 
influence  throughout  Christendom,  which  hitherto  had 
exclusively  appertained  to  the  ancient  university  of 
Paris.  The  crowds  of  students  which  resorted  to  Wit- 
temberg, from  all  parts  of  Europe,  brought  thither  the 
report  of  the  wants  of  the  Church,  and  of  the  people, 
and,  in  quitting  those  walls,  become  sacred  in  their 
esteem,  they  bore  with  them,  to  the  Church  and  peo- 

*  Aliquot  ministri  canon  icorum  capiunt  D.  Valentinum 
Mustaeum  et  vinctum  minibus  pedibusque,  injecto  in  ejus  os 
freno,  deferunt  per  trabes  in  inferiores  ccenobii  partes,  ibique 
in  cclla  cerevisiariu  eum  castrant.  (Hamelmann,  Hist,  rena 
ti  Evangeli,  p.  880.) 


)le,  that  Word  of  Grace,  which  is  for  the  healing  and 
salvation  of  the  nations. 

In  contemplating  these  happy  results,  Luther  felt 
us  confidence  increased.  He  had  seen  a  feeble  effort, 
>egun  amid  so  many  fears  and  struggles,  change  the 
"ace  of  the  Christian  world  ;  and  he  himself  was  as- 
onished  at  a  result  which  he  never  anticipated  when 
ic  first  entered  the  lists  against  Tetzel.  Prostrate  be- 
bre  the  God  whom  he  adored,  he  confessed  that  the 
work  was  His  ;  and  he  rejoiced  in  the  assurance  of 
victory  which  no  power  could  prevent.  "  Our  enemies 
hreaten  us  with  death,"  said  he,  to  the  Chevalier  Har- 
nut,  of  Cronberg —  '  If  their  wisdom  were  equal  to 
heir  folly,  it  is  with  life  they  would  threaten  us.  What 
an  absurdity  and  insult  it  is,  to  affect  to  denounce  death 
against  Christ  and  Christians,  who  are  themselves  tho 
conquerors  of  death  !*  It  is  as  if  I  would  seek  to  af- 
'right  a  rider  by  saddling  his  courser,  and  helping  him 
,o  mount.  Do  they  not  know  that  Christ  is  raised  from 
,he  dead  1  So  far  as  they  see,  He  is  yet  lying  in  the 
rrave,  nay — even  in  hell.  But  we  know  that  He  lives." 
HEe  was  grieved  whenever  he  thought  that  anyone 
should  look  upon  him  as  the  author  of  a  work,  of  which 
he  most  minute  details  disclosed  to  him  the  finger  of 
God.  "  Some  there  are,"  said  he,  "  who  believe,  be- 
cause /  believe.  But  they  only  truly  believe,  who 
would  continue  faithful  even  though  they  should  hear, 
which  may  God  forbid!)  that  I  had  denied  Christ. 
True  disciples  believe — not  in  Luther — but  in  Jesus 
Christ.  Even  I  myself  care  little  for  Luther  t  Let 
rum  be  counted  a  saint  or  a  cheat,  what  care  I  ?  It  is 
not  him  that  I  preach ;  it  is  Christ.  If  the  devil  can 
seize  Luther,  let  him  do  so !  But  let  Christ  abide 
with  us,  and  we  shall  abide  also." 

Surely  it  is  idle  to  explain  such  a  principle  as  here 
speaks  out,  by  the  mere  circumstances  of  human  af- 
fairs. Men  of  letters  might  sharpen  their  wits,  and 
shoot  their  poisoned  arrows  against  popes  and  friars — 
the  gathering  cry  for  freedom,  which  Germany  had  so 
often  sent  forth  against  Italian  tyranny,  might  again 
echo  in  the  castles  and  provinces  : — the  people  might 
again  delight  in  the  familiar  voice  of  the  Wittemberg 
nightingale}  heralding  the  spring  that  was  everywhere 
bursting  forth — but  it  was  no  change  in  mere  outward 
circumstances,  like  such  as  is  the  effect  of  a  craving 
for  earthly  liberty,  that  was  then  accomplishing. — 
Those  who  assert  that  the  Reformation  was  brought 
about  by  bribing  the  reigning  princes  with  the  prospect 
of  convent  treasure — the  clergy,  with  the  license  of 
marriage — or  the  people  with  the  boon  of  freedom,  are 
strangely  mistaken  in  its  nature  Doubtless,  a  profit- 
able use  of  resources  which  hitherto  had  maintained 
the  monks  in  idleness — doubtless,  marriage  and  liberty, 
God's  gifts,  might  conduce  to  the  progress  of  the  Re- 
formation— but  the  moving  power  was  not  in  these 
things.  An  interior  revolution  was  going  on  in  the  deep 
privacy  of  men's  hearts  :  Christians  were  again  learn- 
ing to  love  and  to  forgive,  to  pray,  to  suffer  affliction, 
and,  if  need  be,  to  die  for  the  sake  of  that  Truth  which 
yet  held  out  no  prospect  of  rest  on  this  side  heaven  ! 
The  Church  was  in  a  state  of  transition.  Christianity 
was  bursting  the  shroud  in  which  it  had  so  long  been 
veiled,  and  resuming  its  place  in  a  world  which  had 
well  nigh  forgotten  its  former  power.  He  who  made 
the  earth,  now  '  turned  his  hand,'  and  the  Gospel — 
emerging  from  eclipse — went  forward,  notwithstanding 
the  repeated  efforts  of  priests  and  of  kings — like  the 
Ocean,  which,  when  the  hand  of  God  presses  on  itf 
bosom,  rises  in  majestic  calmness  along  its  shores,  so 
that  no  power  of  man  is  able  to  resist  its  movement. 

*  Hen-end  und  Siegmanner  des  Todes.    (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  164.) 
f  Ich  kenne  auch  selbst  nicht  den  Luther.     (Ibid ) 
\  Witttmbergtf  Jfachtigall,  poem  of  Hans  Sachs,  1523. 


$59 

BOOK  X. 


THE  Reformation,  which  had  taken  its  rise  in  a  few 
pious  hearts,  had  worked  its  way  into  the  public  wor- 
ship, and  the  private  life,  of  the  Church  ;  it  was  to  be 
expected,  that  it  would,  as  it  advanced,  penetrate  into 
civil  relationships.  Its  progress  was  constantly  from 
within — outward.  We  are  about  to  contemplate  this 
great  change  taking  possession  of  the  political  life  of 
nations. 

For  a  period  of  nearly  eight  centuries,  Europe  had 
formed  one  vast  sacerdotal  state.  Its  emperors  and  kings 
had  been  under  the  patronage  of  its  popes.  If  France 
and  Germany  had  afforded  examples  of  energetic  re- 
sistance to  audacious  pretensions,  still,  Rome,  in  the 
result,  had  prevailed,  and  the  world  had  seen  tempo- 
ral princes,  consenting  to  act  as  executioners  of  her 
terrible  sentences — contend,  in  defence  of  her  power, 
against  private  Christians  living  under  their  rule,  and 
shed,  in  her  cause,  the  blood  of  the  children  of  their 
people. 

No  infringement  of  this  vast  ecclesiastical  polity, 
but  must  affect,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  established 
political  relations. 

Two  leading  desires  then  agitated  the  minds  of  the 
Germans.  On  the  one  hand,  the  people  aspired  after 
a  revival  of  the  faith  ;  on  the^  other,  they  demanded  a 
national  Government,  wherein  the  German  states  might 
be  represented,  and  which  should  serve  as  a  counter- 
poise to  the  imperial  power.* 

The  elector,  Frederic,  had  urged  this  demand,  at 
the  time  of  the  election  of  Maximilian's  successor,  and 
the  youthful  Charles  had  consented.  A  national  go- 
vernment had,  in  consequence,  been  chosen,  consist- 
ing of  the  imperial  chief,  and  representatives  of  the  va- 
rious electors  and  circles. 

Thus,  while  Luther  was  reforming  the  church,  Fre- 
deric was  engaged  in  reforming  the  state. 

But  when,  simultaneously  with  a  change  in  religion, 
important  modifications  of  political  relationships  were 
introduced  by  the  authorities,  it  was  to  be  apprehend- 
ed that  the  commonalty  would  exhibit  a  disposition  to 
revolt — thereby  bringing  into  jeopardy  the  Reforma- 
tion both  of  church  and  of  state. 

This  violent  and  fanatical  irruption  of  tho  people, 
under  certain  chosen  leaders,  unavoidable  where  soci- 
ety is  in  a  state  of  crisis,  did  not  fail  to  happen  in  the 
times  we  are  recording. 

Other  circumstances  there  were,  which  tended  to 
these  disorders. 

The  emperor  and  the  pope  had  combined  against  the 
Reformation,  and  it  might  appear  to  be  doomed  to  fall 
beneath  the  strokes  of  such  powerful  enemies.  Poli- 
cy— interest — ambition — obliged  Charles  V.  and  Leo 
X.  to  extirpate  it.  But  such  motives  are  feeble  de- 
fences against  the  power  of  truth.  A  devoted  asser- 
tion of  a  cause  deemed  sacred,  can  be  conquered  only 
by  a  like  devotedness  opposed  to  it.  But  the  Romans, 
quick  to  catch  Leo's  enthusiasm  fora  sonnet  or  a  mu- 
sical composition,  had  no  pulse  to  beat  response  to  tho 
religion  of  Jesus  Christ ;  or  if,  at  times,  some  graver 
thoughts  would  intervene,  instead  of  their  being  such 
as  might  purify  their  hearts,  and  imbue  them  with  the 
Christianity  of  the  apostles,  they  turned  upon  alliances 
or  conquests,  or  treaties,  that  added  new  provinces  to 
the  papal  states.  And  Rome,  with  cold  disdain,  left 

»  Pfeffel  Droit  publ.  de  1'Allemagne,  690.  Robertson,  Charlcu 
V.  vol.  iii.  p.  114.  Ranke,  Deutsche  Geach. 


the  Reformation  to  awaken,  on  all  sides,  a  religions 
enthusiasm,  and  to  go  forward,  in  triumphant  progress, 
to  new  victories.  The  foe  that  she  had  sworn  to  crush, 
in  the  church  of  Worms,  was  before  her,  in  the  confi- 
dence of  courage  and  strength.  The  contest  must  be 
sharp,  blood  must  flow. 

Nevertheless,  some  of  the  dangers  that  threatened 
the  Reformation,  seemed,  just  then,  to  be  less  press- 
ing. The  youthful  Charles,  standing  one  day,  a  little 
before  the  publication  of  the  edict  of  Worms,  in  a  win- 
dow of  his  palace,  in  conversation  with  his  confessor, 
had,  it  is  true,  said,  with  emphasis,  laying  his  hand 
upon  his  heart,  "  I  swear  that  I  will  hang  up  before 
this  window  the  first  man  who,  after  the  publication  of 
my  edict,  shall  declare  himself  a  Lutheran."*  But  it 
was  not  long  before  his  zeal  cooled.  His  plan  for  re- 
storing the  ancient  glory  of  the  empire,  or,  in  other 
words,  enlarging  his  own  dominions,  was  coldly  re- 
ceived ;t  and,  taking  umbrage  with  his  German  sub- 
jects, he  passed  the  Rhine,  and  retired  to  the  Low 
Countries,  availing  himself  of  his  sojourn  there,  to  af- 
ford the  friars  some  gratifications  that  he  found  him- 
self unable  to  give  them  in  the  empire.  At  Ghent, 
Luther's  writings  were  burned  by  the  public  execu- 
tioner, with  the  utmost  solemnity.  More  than  fifty 
thousand  spectators  attended  this  auto-da-fe,  and  the 
presence  of  the  emperor  himself,  marked  his  approval 
of  the  proceedings.}: 

Just  at  this  time,  Francis  the  First,  who  eagerly 
sought  a  pretext  for  attacking  his  rival,  had  thrown 
down  the  gauntlet.  Under  pretence  of  re-establishing 
in  their  patrimony  the  children  of  John,  of  Albret,  king 
of  Navarre,  he  had  commenced  a  bloody  contest,  des- 
tined to  last  all  his  life — sending  an  army  to  invade 
that  kingdom,  under  command  of  Lesparra,  who  rapidly 
pushed  his  victorious  advance  to  the  gates  of  Pampe- 
luna., 

On  the  walls  of  this  fortress  was  to  be  enkindled  au 
enthusiasm  which,  in  after  years,  should  withstand  the 
aggressive  enthusiasm  of  the  Reformer,  and  breathe 
through  the  papal  system  a  new  energy  of  devoted- 
ness  and  controul.  Pampeluna  was  to  be  the  cradle  of 
a  rival  to  the  Wittemberg  monk. 

The  spirit  of  chivalry,  which  had  so  long  reigned  in 
the  Christian  world,  still  survived  in  Spain.  The  wars 
with  the  Moors,  recently  terminated  in  that  peninsula, 
but  continually  recurring  in  Africa,  and  distant  and  ad- 
venturous expeditions  beyond  sea,  kept  alive,  in  the 
Castilian  youth,  the  enthusiastic  and  simple  valour  of 
which  Amadis  had  been  the  ideal  exhibition. 

Among  the  garrison  of  Pampeluna,  was  a  young  man 
named  Don  Inigo  Lopez  de  Recalde,  the  youngest  of 
a  family  of  thirteen.  Recalde  had  been  brought  up  at 
the  court  of  Ferdinand  the  Catholic.  Remarkable 
for  a  fine  person, $  and  expert  in  the  use  of  the  sword 
and  lance,  he  was  ardently  ambitious  of  chivalrous 
renown.  Clothed  in  dazzling  armour,  and  mounted 

*  Sancte  juro cum  ex  hac  fenestra  meo  jussu  suspen- 

sum  iri.  (Pallavicini,  i.  p.  130.) 

f  Essendo  tomato  dalla  Dieta  che  sua  Maesta  haveva  fatta 
in  Wormatia,  escluso  d'ogni  conclusion  buona  d'ajuti  e  di  fa- 
vori  che  si  fussi  proposto  d'ottenere  in  essa.  (Iristrutione  al 
card.  Farnese.  Manuscript  of  the  Bibl.  Corsini,  published  by 
Ranke.) 

J  Ipso  Caesarc,  ore  subridenti,  spectaculo  plausit.  (Pallivi- 
cini,  i.  p.  130.) 

§  Cum  esset  in  corporis  ornatu  clegautissiraus.  (Maffci, 
Vita  Loyolae,  1586,  p.  3.) 


260       SIEGE  OF  PAMPELUNA— LOYOLA'S  ARMED  VIGIL— ENTERS  A  CONVENT. 


on  a  prancing  steed,  he  took  delight  in  exposing 
himself  to  the  glittering  dangers  of  the  tournament,* 
engaging  in  hazardous  enterprises,  taking  part  in  the 
impassioned  struggles  of  opposing  factions,!  and  ma- 
nifesting as  much  devotion  to  St.  Peter  as  to  his  lady- 
love. Such  was  the  life  led  by  the  young  knight. 

The  governor  of  Navarre,  having  gone  into  Spain  to 
obtain  succours,  had  left  to  Inigo  and  a  few  nobles  the 
charge  of  defending  Pampeluna.  These  latter,  learn- 
ing the  superior  numbers  of  the  French  troops,  de- 
cided on  retiring.  Inigo  entreated  them  to  stand  firm, 
and  resist  Lesparra ;  but  not  being  able  to  prevail  on 
them,  he  indignantly  reproached  them  with  their  cow- 
ardice and  perfidy,  and  then  threw  himself  into  the  ci- 
tadel, resolved  to  defend  it  at  the  sacrifice  of  his  life.J 

When  the  French,  who  had  been  received  with  en- 
thusiasm at  Pampeluna,  proposed  to  the  command- 
ant of  the  fortress  to  capitulate,  "  Let  us  endure  every- 
thing,""^ boldly  exclaimed  Inigo,  "  rather  than  sur- 
render." On  this,  the  French  began  to  batter  the 
walls  with  their  formidable  artillery,  and,  in  a  short 
time,  they  attempted  to  storm  it.  The  bravery  and 
exhortations  of  Inigo  gave  fresh  courage  to  the  Spa- 
niards ;  they  drove  back  the  assailants  by  their  arrows, 
swords,  or  halberds.  Inigo  led  them  on.  Taking  his 
stand  on  the  ramparts,  with  eyes  flaming  with  rage,  the 
young  knight  brandished  his  sword,  and  felled  the  as- 
sailants to  the  earth.  Suddenly  a  ball  struck  the  wall, 
just  where  he  stood ;  a  stone  shivered  from  the  ram- 
parts, wounded  the  knight  severely  in  the  right  leg,  at 
the  same  moment  as  the  ball,  rebounding  from  the  vi- 
olence of  the  shock,  broke  his  left.  Inigo  fell,  sense- 
less. I!  The  garrison  immediately  surrendered  ;  and 
the  French,  admiring  the  courage  of  their  young  ad- 
versary, bore  him  in  a  litter  to  his  relatives  in  the  cas- 
tle of  Loyola.  In  this  lordly  mansion,  from  which  his 
name  was  afterward  derived,  Inigo  had  been  born  of 
one  of  the  most  illustrious  families  of  that  country, 
eight  years  after  the  birth  of  Luther. 

A  painful  operation  became  necessary.  In  the  most 
acute  suffering,  Inigo  firmly  clenched  his  hands,  but 
uttered  no  complaint.^" 

Constrained  to  a  repose  which  he  could  ill  endure, 
he  found  it  needful  to  employ,  in  some  way,  his  ar- 
dent imagination.  In  the  absence  of  the  romances 
which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  devour,  they  gave 
him  the  Life  of  Christ,  and  the  Flores  Sanctorum.  The 
reading  of  these  works,  in  his  state  of  solitude  and 
sickness,  produced  an  extraordinary  effect  upon  his 
mind.  The  stirring  life  of  tournaments  and  battles,  which 
had  occupied  his  youth,  to  the  exclusion  of  everything 
besides,  seemed  as  if  receding  and  fading  from  view, 
while  a  career  of  brighter  glory  appeared  to  open  be- 
fore him.  The  humble  labours  of  the  saints,  and  their 
heroic  patience,  wore,  all  of  a  sudden,  seen  to  be  far 
more  worthy  of  praise  than  all  the  high  deeds  of  chi- 
valry. Stretched  upon  his  couch,  and  still  under  the 
effects  of  fever,  ho  indulged  in  the  most  conflicting 
thoughts.  The  world  he  was  planning  to  renounce, 
and  that  life  of  holy  mortification  which  he  contem- 
plated, both  appeared  before  him — the  one  soliciting 
by  its  pleasures,  the  other  by  its  severities.  And  fear- 
ful was  the  struggle,  in  his  conscience,  between  these 

*  Equorumque  et  arraorum  usu  praecelleret.    (Ibid.) 

|  Partim  in  factionum  rixarumque  periculis,  partim  in  ama 
toria  vesania  .  . .  tempus  consumeret.  (MaS'ei,  Vita  Loyola, 
1586,  p.  3.) 

$  Ardentibus  oculis,  detestatus  ignaviam  perfidiamque  spec- 
tantibus  omnibus,  in  arcem  solus  introit.  (Ibid.  p.  6.) 

&  Tarn  acri  ac  vehementi  oratione  commilitonibus  dissuasit. 
(Maff.  Vita  Loyolae,  1586,  p.  6.) 

||  Ut  e  vestigo  semianimis  alienata  mente  corruerit.  (Ibid. 
p.  7.) 

f  Nullum  aliud  indicium  dedit  doloris,  nisi  ut  coactus  in 
.Wignum  digitus  valde  constringeret.  (Ibid.  p.  8.) 


two  opposing  worlds.  "What!"  thought  he,  "if  I 
were  to  act  like  St.  Francis  or  St.  Dominic  1"*  But 
the  recollection  of  the  lady  to  whom  he  had  pledged 
his  love,  recurred  to  his  mind.  "  She  is  neither  count- 
ess nor  dutchess,"  said  he  to  himself,  with  a  kind  of 
simple  vanity,  "  she  is  much  more  than  either."t 
But  thoughts  like  these  were  sure  to  fill  him  with  dis- 
tress and  impatience,  while  the  idea  of  imitating  the 
example  of  the  saints,  caused  his  heart  to  overflow 
with  peace  and  joy. 

From  this  period  his  resolution  was  taken.  Scarcely 
had  he  risen  from  his  sick-bed,  when  he  decided  to  re- 
tire from  the  world.  As  Luther  had  done,  he  once 
more  invited  to  a  repast  his  companions  in  arms  ;  and 
then,  without  divulging  his  design,  set  out  unattend- 
ed^ for  the  lonely  cells  excavated  by  the  Benedictine 
monks,  in  the  rocks  of  the  mountains  of  Montserrat. 
Impelled,  not  by  the  sense  of  his  sin,  or  of  his  need 
of  the  grace  of  God,  but  by  the  wish  to  become 
"  knight  of  the  Virgin  Mary,"  and  to  be  renowned  for 
mortifications  and  works,  after  the  example  of  the  army 
of  saints — he  confessed  for  three  successive  days,  gave 
away  his  costly  attire  to  a  mendicant, §  clothed  himself 
in  sackcloth,  and  girded  himself  with  a  rope.  Then, 
calling  to  mind  the  armed  vigil  of  Amadis,  of  Gaul,  he 
suspended  his  sword  at  the  shrine  of  Mary,  passed  the 
night  in  watching,  in  his  new  and  strange  costume  : 
and,  sometimes  on  his  knees,  and  then  standing,  but 
ever  absorbed  in  prayer,  and  with  his  pilgrim's  staff 
in  hand,  went  through  all  the  devout  practices  of 
which  the  illustrious  Amadis  had  set  the  example. 
"  Thus,"  remarks  the  Jesuit,  Maffei,  one  of  the  bio- 
graphers of  the  saint,  "  while  Satan  was  stirring  up 
Martin  Luther  to  rebellion  against  all  laws,  divine 
and  human,  and  while  that  heretic  stood  up  at  Worms, 
declaring  impious  war  against  the  Apostolic  See, 
Christ,  by  his  heavenly  providence,  called  forth  this 
new  champion,  and  binding  him  by  after  vows  to  obe- 
dience to  the  Roman  Pontiff,  opposed  him  to  the  li- 
centiousness and  fury  of  heretical  perversity."|| 

Loyola,  who  was  still  lame  in  one  of  his  legs,  jour- 
neyed slowly  by  circuitous  and  secluded  paths  till  he 
arrived  at  Manresa.  There  he  entered  a  convent  of 
Dominicans,  resolving  in  this  retired  spot  to  give  him- 
self up  to  the  most  rigid  penance.  Like  Luther,  he 
daily  went  from  door  to  door  begging  his  bread. ^ 
Seven  hours  he  was  on  his  knees,  and  thrice  every 
day  did  he  flagellate  himself.  Again  at  midnight  he 
was  accustomed  to  rise  and  pray.  He  allowed  his  hair 
and  nails  to  grow  ;  and  it  would  have  been  hard  in- 
deed, to  recognise  in  the  pale  and  lank  visage  of  the 
monk  of  Manresa,  the  young  and  brilliant  knight  of 
Pampeluna. 

Yet  the  moment  had  arrived  when  the  ideas  of  re- 
ligion, which  hitherto  had  been  to  Ingio,  little  more 
than  a  form  of  chivalric  devotion,  were  to  reveal  them- 
selves to  him  as  having  an  importance,  and  exercis- 
ing a  power  of  which,  till  then,  he  had  been  entirely 
unconscious.  Suddenly,  without  anything  that  might 
give  him  intimation  of  an  approaching  change  of  feel- 
ing, the  joy  he  had  experienced  left  him.**  In  vain 

*  Quid  si  ego  hoc  agerem  quod  fecit  b.  Franciscus,  quid  si 
hoc  quod  b.  Dominicuss  1  (Acta  Sanctorum,  vii.  p.  634.) 

f  Non  era  condessa,  ni  duquessa,  mas  era  su  estado  mas  at 
to  ...  (Ibid.) 

\  Ibi  duce  amicisque  ita  salutatis,  ut  arcana  consiliorum 
suorum  quam  accuratissime  tegeret.  (Maf.  p.  16) 

^  Pretiosa  vestimenta  quibus  erat  orantus,  pannoso  cuidam 
largitus  sacco  sese  alacer  induit  ac  func  praecinxit.  (Ibid. 

P'||  Furori  ac  libidini  hsereticae  pravitatis  opponeret.     (Maf. 
TT  Victum  osteatim  precibus,  infimis  emendicare  quotidie. 

**  Tune  subito  nulla  prseeedente  significatione  prosorus 
exui  nudarique  se  omni  gaudio  sentiret.  (libid.  p.  27.) 


MENTAL  DISTRESS— «  STRONG  DELUSIONS  "--<' BELIEF  OF  A  LIE." 


261 


did  he  have  recourse  to  prayer  and  chaunting  psalms ; 
he  could  not  rest.*  His  imagination  ceased  to  present 
nothing  but  pleasing  illusions — he  was  alone  with  his 
conscience.  He  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  a  state 
of  feeling  so  new  to  him  ;  and  he  shudered  as  he 
asked  whether  God  could  still  be  against  him,  after  all 
the  sacrifices  he  had  made.  Day  and  night,  gloomy 
terrors  disturbed  him — bitter  were  the  tears  he  shed, 
and  urgent  was  his  cry  for  that  peace  which  he  had 
lost — but  all  in  vain.t  He  again  ran  over  the  long 
confession  he  had  made  at  Montserrat.  "  Possibly," 
thought  he,  "  I  may  have  forgotten  something."  But 
that  confession  did  but  aggravate  his  distress  of  heart, 
for  it  revived  the  thought  of  former  transgressions. 
He  wandered  about,  melancholy  and  dejected,  his  con- 
science accusing  him  of  having,  all  his  life,  done 
nought  but  heap  sm  upon  sin,  and  the  wretched  man — 
a  prey  to  overwhelming  terrors — filled  the  cloister 
with  the  sound  of  his  sighs. 

Strange  thoughts,  at  this  crisis,  found  access  to  his 
heart.  Obtaining  no  relief  in  the  confessional,  and  the 
various  ordinances  of  the  church,!  he  began,  as  Luther 
had  done,  to  doubt  their  efficacy.  But,  instead  of 
turning  from  man's  works,  and  seeking  the  finished 
work  of  Christ — he  considered  whether  he  should  not 
once  more  plunge  into  the  vanities  of  the  age.  His 
soul  panted  eagerly  for  that  world  that  he  had  solemn- 
ly renounced  ;$  but  instantly  he  recoiled,  awe-struck. 

And  was  there  at  this  moment  any  difference  between 
the  monk  of  Manresa  and  the  monk  of  Erfurth  1 
Doubtless,  in  secondary  points  ;  but  their  condition  of 
soul  was  alike.  Both  were  deeply  sensible  of  their 
sins  ;  both  sought  peace  with  God,  and  desired  to 
have  the  assurance  of  it  in  their  hearts.  If  another 
Staupitz,  with  the  Bible  in  his  hand,  had  presented  him- 
self at  the  convent  of  Manresa,  perhaps  Inigo  might 
have  been  known  to  us  as  the  Luther  of  the  Peninsula. 
These  two  remarkable  men  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
the  founders  of  two  opposing  spiritual  empires,  which 
for  three  centuries  have  warred,  one  against  the  other, 
were,  at  this  period,  brothers ;  and,  perhaps,  if  they  had 
been  thrown  together,  Luther  and  Loyola  would  have 
rushed  into  each  other's  embrace,  and  mingled  their 
tears  and  their  prayers. 

But  from  this  moment,  the  two  monks  were  to 
take  opposite  courses. 

Inigo,  instead  of  regarding  his  remorse  as  sent  to 
urge  him  to  the  foot  of  the  cross,  deluded  himself  with 
the  belief  that  his  inward  compunctions  were  not 
from  God,  but  the  mere  suggestion  of  the  devil ;  and 
he  resolved  not  to  think  any  longer  of  his  sins,  but  to 
obliterate  them  for  ever  from  his  memory  !||  Luther 
looked  to  Christ— Loyola  did  but  turn  inward  on  himself. 

It  was  not  long  before  visionary  attestations  came 
in  confirmation  of  Inigo's  self-imposed  convictions. 
His  own  resolutions  had  been  to  him  in  place  of  the 
Lord's  grace,  and  he  had  suffered  the  imaginations  of 
his  own  heart  to  take  the  place  of  God's  word.  He 
had  counted  the  voice  of  God,  speaking  to  him  in  his 
conscience,  as  the  voice  of  the  devil ;  and  hence,  we 
see  him  in  the  remainder  of  his  history,  the  dupe  of 
delusions  of  the  power  of  darkness. 

One  day,  Loyola  chanced  to  meet  on  old  woman  ; 
as  Luther,  when  his  soul  was  under  trial  and  exercise, 
had  received  a  visit  from  an  old  man.  But  the  Spa- 

*  Nee  jam  in  precibus,  neque  in  psalmis ullam  inve- 

niret  delectationem  aut  requiem.    (Ibid.) 

\  Vanis  agitari  terroribus,  dies  noctesque  fletibus  jungere. 
(Maf.  p.  28.) 

J  Ut  nulla  jam  r«s  mitigare  dolorem  posse  videratur.  (Ibid, 
p.  29.) 

^  Et  saeculi  commodis  repetendis  magno  quodam  impetu 
cogitaverit.  (Ibid.  p.  30.) 

||  Sine  ulla  dubitatione  constituit  praeteritae  vita  labes  per- 
petua  oblivione  conterere.  (Maf.  p.  31.) 


nish  crone,  instead  of  testifying  of  Remission  of  Sins 
to  the  penitent  of  Manresa,  predicted  certain  appear- 
ances of  Jesus.  This  was  the  sort  of  Christianity  to 
which  Loyola,  like  the  prophets  of  Zwickau,  had  re- 
course. Inigo  did  not  seek  truth  from  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, but  invented  in  their  place  certain  direct  com- 
munications from  the  world  of  spirits.  He  soon  pas- 
sed his  whole  time  absorbed  in  ecstasy  and  abstraction. 

Once,  when  on  his  way  to  the  church  of  St.  Paul, 
outside  the  city,  he  followed,  lost  in  thought,  the  course 
of  the  Llobregat,  and  stopped,  for  a  moment,  to  seat 
himself  on  its  bank.  He  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  river 
which  rolled  its  deep  waters  in  silence  before  him. 
He  soon  lost  all  consciousness  of  surrounding  objects. 
Of  a  sudden  he  fell  into  an  ecstasy.  Things  were  re- 
vealed to  his  sight,  such  as  ordinary  men  comprehend 
only  after  much  reading  and  long  watching,  and 
study.*  He  rose  from  his  seat.  As  he  stood  by  the 
bank  of  the  river,  he  seemed  to  himself  a  new  man. 
He  proceeded  to  throw  himself  on  his  knees  before  a 
crucifix  erected  near  the  spot,  decided  to  devote  his 
life  in  service  to  that  cause,  the  mysteries  of  which  had 
just  been  revealed  to  his  soul. 

From  this  time,  his  visions  were  more  frequent. 
Sitting  one  day  on  the  steps  of  St.  Dominic,  at  Man- 
resa, singing  hymns  to  the  Virgin,  his  thoughts  were  all 
of  a  sudden  arrested,  and,  wrapt  in  ecstasy  of  motion- 
less abstraction,  while  the  mystery  of  the  Holy  Trinityf 
was  revealed  before  his  vision,  under  symbols  of  glory 
and  magnificence.  His  tears  flowed — his  bosom 
heaved  with  sobs  of  emotion,  and  all  that  day  he  never 
ceased  speaking  of  that  ineffable  vision. 

Such  repeated  apparitions  had  overcome  and  dissi- 
pated all  his  doubts.  He  believed  not,  as  Luther,  be- 
cause the  things  of  Faith  were  written  in  the  Word 
of  God — but  because  of  the  visions  he  himself  had  had. 
"  Even  though  no  Bible  had  existed,''}  say  his  apolo- 
gists, even  though  those  mysteries  should  never  have 
been  revealed  in  Scripture,  he  would  have  believed 
them,  for  God  had  disclosed  Himself  to  him.''$  Lu- 
ther, become  a  doctor  of  divinity,  had  pledged  his  oath 
to  the  sacred  Scriptures — and  the  alone  infallible  rule 
of  God's  word  was  become  the  fundamental  principle  of 
the  Reformation.  Loyola,  at  the  time  we  are  record- 
ng,  bound  himself  to  dreams,  and  apparitions : — and 
visionary  delusions  became  the  moving  principle  of  his 
life,  and  the  grounds  of  his  confidence. 

Luther's  sojurn  in  the  convent  of  Erfurth,  and  that 
of  Loyola  at  Manresa.  explain  to  us  the  principle  of 
the  Reformation,  and  the  character  of  modern  Popery. 
We  will  not  follow — in  his  journey  to  Jerusalem, 
whither  he  repaired  on  leaving  the  convent — the  monk 
who  was  to  be  a  means  of  re-animating  the  expiring 
aower  of  Rome.  We  shall  meet  with  him  again  in 
the  further  progress  of  this  history. 

While  these  things  were  passing  in  Spain,  Rome 
lerself  appeared  to  wear  a  graver  aspect.  The  great 
patron  of  music,  hunting  and  feasting,  was  removed 
from  the  throne  of  the  Pontiff,  and  succeeded  by  a 
jious  and  grave  monk. 

Leo  X.  had  been  greatly  pleased  by  the  intelligence 
of  the  edict  of  Worms,  and  of  Luther's  captivity  ;  and 
n  sign  of  his  triumph  had  caused  the  Reformer  to  be 
sublicly  burnt  in  effigy,  together  with  his  writings.)! 
[t  was  the  second  or  third  time  that  the  Papacy  had 
ndulged  itself  in  this  harmless  satisfaction.  At  the 

*  Quae  vix  demum  solent  homine  sintelligentia  comprehen- 
dere.  (Maf  p.  32.) 

f  En  figuras  de  tres  teclas. 

t  Quod  etsi  nulla  scriptura,  mysteria  ilia  fidei  doceret. 
Acta  Sanct.) 

^  Quse  Deo  sibi  aperiente  cognoverat     (Maf.  p.  34.) 

||  Comburi  jussit  alteram  vultus  in  ejus  statua,  alteram  ani- 
ni  ejus  in  libris.  (Pallavicini,  i.  p.  128.) 


262 


DEATH  OF  LEO  X.- CHARACTER  OF  ADRIAN  VI. 


same  time,  Leo,  to  show  his  gratitude  to  the  Empe- 
ror, united  his  army  with  the  Imperial  forces.  The 
French  were  compelled  to  evacuate  Parma,  Palacen- 
tia,  and  Milan ;  and  Cardinal  Giuiio  de  Medici,  cousin 
to  the  Pope,  made  a  public  entry  into  the  latter  city. 
The  Pope  appeared  on  the  point  of  attaining  the  summit 
of  human  greatness. 

The  winter  of  the  rear  1521  was  just  commencing. 
It  was  customary  with  Leo  X.  to  spend  the  autumn 
in  the  country.  At  that  season,  he  would  leave  Rome 
without  surplice,  and  also,  what,  remarks  his  master  of 
the  ceremonies,  was  a  yet  greater  impropriety,  wear- 
ing boots  !  At  Viterbo,  he  would  amuse  himself  with 
hawking  ;  at  Corneto,  he  hunted  ;  the  lake  of  Bolsena 
afforded  him  the  pleasures  of  fishing.  Leaving  these, 
he  would  pass  some  time  at  his  favourite  residence, 
Malliana,  in  a  round  of  festivities.  Musicians,  impro- 
visatori,  and  other  Roman  artists,  whose  talents  might 
add  to  the  charms  of  this  delightful  villa,  there  gather- 
ed round  the  Sovereign  Pontiff.  He  was  residing 
there,  when  news  was  brought  him  of  the  taking  of 
Milan.  A  tumult  of  joy  ensued  in  the  town.  The 
courtiers  and  officers  could  not  contain  their  exultation  ; 
the  Swiss  discharged  their  carbines,  and  Leo  incau- 
tiously passed  the  night  in  walking  backward  and  for- 
ward in  his  chamber,  and  looking  out  of  the  window  at 
the  rejoicings  of  the  people.  He  returned  to  Rome 
exhausted  in  body,  and  in  the  intoxication  of  success. 
Scarcely  had  he  re-entered  the  Vatican,  when  he  was 
suddenly  taken  ill.  "  Pray  for  me,"  said  he  to  his  at- 
tendants. He  had  not  even  time  to  receive  the  last 
sacraments,  and  died,  in  the  prime  of  life,  at  the  age 
of  forty-seven — in  a  moment  of  victory,  and  amid  the 
sounds  of  public  joy. 

The  crowd  that  followed  the  hearse  of  the  Sove- 
reign Pontiff  gave  utterance  to  curses.  They  could 
not  pardon  his  having  died  without  the  sacraments — 
leaving  behind  him  the  debts  incurred  by  his  vast  ex- 
penditure. "Thou  didst  win  the  pontificate  like  a 
fox — heldst  it  like  a  lion — and  hast  left  it  like  a  dog," 
said  the  Romans. 

Such  was  the  mourning  with  which  Rome  honoured 
the  Pope  who  excommunicated  the  Reformation ;  and 
one  whose  name  yet  serves  to  designate  a  remarka- 
ble period  in  history. 

Meanwhile  a  feeble  reaction  against  the  temper  of 
Leo  and  of  Rome  was  already  beginning  in  Rome  it- 
self. A  few  men  of  piety  had  opened  a  place  of  prayer 
in  order  to  mutual  edification — not  far  from  the  spot 
in  which  tradition  reports  the  first  Christians  of  Rome 
to  have  held  their  meetings.*  Contarini,  who  had 
been  present  on  Luther's  appearance  at  Worms,  took 
the  lead  in  these  little  meetings.  Thus,  almost  at  the 
same  time  as  at  Wittemberg,  a  kind  of  movement  to- 
ward a  reformation  manifested  itself  at  Rome.  Truly 
has  it  been  remarked,  that  wherever  there  are  the  seeds 
of  '  love  to  God,'  there  are  also  the  germs  of  reforma- 
tion. But  these  well-meant  efforts  were  soon  to  come 
to  nothing. 

In  other  times,  the  choice  of  a  successor  to  Leo  X. 
would  surely  have  fallen  upon  a  Gregory  VII.  or  an 
Innocent  III.,  if  men  like  them  had  been  to  be  found  ; 
but  now  the  Imperial  interest  was  stronger  than  that 
of  the  Church,  and  Charles  V.  required  a  pope  who 
should  be  devoted  to  his  interests. 

The  Cardinal  de  Medici,  afterward  Clement  VII., 
seeing  that  he  had  no  chance  of  obtaining  the  tiara, 
exclaimed  aloud — "  Choose  the  Cardinal  Tortosa,  an 
old  man  whom  every  one  regards  as  a  saint."  The 
result  was,  that  this  prelate,  who  was  a  native  of  Utrecht, 

*  Si  unirono  in  un  oratorio,  chiamato  del  divino  amore,  cir- 
ca sessanta  di  loro.  (Carracciolo  Vita  da  Paolo  IV.  MSC 
Ranke.) 


and  of  humble  birth,  was  actually  chosen,  and  reigned 
under  the  name  of  Adrian  VI.  He  had  been  professor 
at  Louvain,  and  afterward  tutor  to  Charles.  In  1517, 
through  the  emperor's  influence,  he  had  been  invested 
with  the  Roman  purple.  Cardinal  de  Vio  supported 
his  nomination,  "  Adrian,"  said  he,  "  was  very  use- 
ful in  persuading  the  doctors  of  Louvain  to  put  forth 
their  condemnation  of  Luther."*  The  conclave,  tired 
out  and  taken  by  surprise,  nominated  the  ultramontane 
Cardinal.  "  But  soon  coming  to  their  senses,"  ob- 
serves an  old  chronicler,  "  they  were  ready  to  die  with 
fear  of  the  consequences."  The  thought  that  the  na- 
tive of  the  Netherlands  might  not  accept  of  the  tiara, 
brought  them  temporary  relief ;  but  it  was  soon  dissi- 
pated. Pasquin  represented  the  elect  Pontiff  under 
the  character  of  a  schoolmaster,  and  the  Cardinals  as 
boys  under  the  discipline  of  the  rod.  The  irritation 
of  the  populace  was  such,  that  the  members  of  the  con- 
clave thought  themselves  fortunate  to  escape  being 
thrown  into  the  river. t  In  Holland,  it  was  a  subject 
of  general  rejoicing  that  they  had  given  a  head  to  the 
Church.  Inscribed  on  banners,  suspended  from  the 
houses,  were  the  words,  "Utrecht  planted — Louvain 
watered— the  emperor  gave  the  increase."  One  added 
underneath,  the  words — "  and  God  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it !" 

Notwithstanding  the  dissatisfaction  which  was  at  first 
manifested  by  the  inhabitants  of  Rome,  Adrian  VI. 
repaired  thither  in  August,  1522,  and  was  well  received. 
It  was  whispered  from  one  to  another,  that  he  had  five 
thousand  benefices  in  his  gift,  and  each  reckoned  on 
some  advantage  to  himself.  For  a  long  time,  the  Pa- 
pal chair  had  not  been  filled  by  such  a  man.  He  was 
upright,  industrious,  learned,  pious,  sincere,  irreproach- 
able in  morals,  and  neither  misled  by  favouritism,  nor 
linded  by  passion.  He  brought  with  him,  to  the  Va- 
tican, his  old  house-keeper,  whom  he  charged  to  con- 
tinue to  provide  frugally  for  his  daily  wants,  in  that 
palace  which  Leo  had  filled  with  luxury  and  dissipa- 
tion. He  was  a  stranger  to  the  tastes  of  his  predeces- 
sor. When  they  showed  him  the  noble  group  of  Lao- 
coon,  discovered  only  a  few  years  before,  and  purchased 
by  Julius  II.,  at  an  enormous  cost — he  turned  away, 
coolly  observing,  "  They  are  the  idols  of  the  heathen  :" 
and,  in  one  of  his  letters,  he  wrote,"  I  would  far  rather 
serve  God  in  my  priory  at  Louvain,  than  be  pope  at 
Rome." 

Adrian,  alarmed  by  the  danger  to  which  the  religion, 
which  had  come  down  to  them  through  the  middle  ages, 
was  exposed,  from  the  spread  of  the  Reformation  ;  and 
not,  like  the  Italians,  fearing  the  discredit  into  which 
Rome  and  her  hierarchy  were  brought  by  it,  earnestly 
desired  to  oppose  and  arrest  its  progress  ;  and  he  judged 
that  the  best  means  to  that  end,  was  to  be  found  in  a 
reformation  of  the  church  by  herself.  "  The  church," 
said  he,  "  stands  in  need  of  a  reformation ;  but  we 
must  take  one  step  at  a  time."  "  The  pope,"  said 
Luther,  "  advises  that  a  few  centuries  should  be  per- 
mitted to  intervene  between  the  first  and  the  second 
step."  In  truth,  the  church  had,  for  ages,  tended  to- 
ward a  reformation.  It  was  now  no  time  for  empo- 
rising,  it  was  necessary  to  act. 

Adhering  to  his  plan,  Adrian  set  about  banishing 
from  the  city  all  the  profane,  the  perjurers,  and  the 
usurers.  It  was  no  easy  task,  for  they  composed  a  con- 
siderable proportion  of  the  population. 

At  first,  the  Romans  derided  him,  but  ere  long  they 
hated  him.  Priestly  rule,  and  the  vast  gains  it  brought, 
the  power  and  influence  of  Rome,  its  games  and  its 
festivals,  the  luxury  that  everywhere  reigned  in  it,  all 

•Doctores  Lovanienses  accepisse  consilium  atamconspi- 
cuo  alumno.     (Pallavicini,  p.  13<i.) 
j  Sleidan.  Hist,  de  la  Ref.  i.p.  124. 


OPPOSITION— DESIGNS  AGAINST  LUTHER— DIET  OF  NUREMBERG. 


263 


would  be  irretrievably  lost,  if  there  were  a  return  to 
apostolic  simplicity. 

The  restoration  of  discipline  everywhere  encoun- 
tered strong  opposition.  "  To  produce  the  desired 
effect,"  said  the  chief  Cardinal,  Penitentiaria,  "  it 
would  be  necessary  to  begin  by  reviving  the  '  first 
love '  of  Christians  :  the  remedy  is  more  than  the  pa- 
tient can  bear — it  will  be  the  death  of  him.  Take 
care,  lest,  in  your  desire  to  preserve  Germany,  you 
should  lose  Italy."*  And,  indeed,  it  was  not  long 
before  Adrian  had  more  to  fear  from  Romanism  than 
Lutheranism  itself. 

Those  about  him  attempted  to  lead  him  back  to  the 
path  he  had  abandoned.  The  old  and  practiced  Car- 
dinal Sodermus,  of  Volterra,  the  intimate  friend  of 
Alexander  VI.,  of  Julius  II.,  and  of  Leo  X.,f  would 
often  drop  expressions,  well  suited  to  prepare  him  for 
that  part,  to  him  so  strange,  which  he  was  reserved  to 
act.  "  Heretics,"  observed  he,  "  have,  in  all  ages, 
declaimed  against  the  morals  of  the  Roman  court, 
and  yet  the  popes  have  never  changed  them.  It  has 
never  been  by  reforms  that  heresies  have  been  extin- 
guished, but  by  crusades."  Oh,  how  wretched  is  the 
position  of  the  popes,"  replied  the  pontiff,  sighing  deep- 
ly, "  since  they  have  not  even  liberty  to  do  right. "j 

On  the  23d  March,  1522,  and  before  Adrian's  entry 
into  Rome,  the  Diet  assembled  at  Nuremberg.  Already 
the  bishops  of  Mersburg  and  Misnia  had  petitioned  the 
Elector  of  Saxony  to  allow  a  visitation  of  the  convents 
and  churches  in  his  states.  Frederic,  thinking  the  truth 
had  nothing  to  fear,  had  consented,  and  the  visitation 
took  place.  The  bishops  and  doctors  preached  vehe- 
mently against  the  .new  opinions,  exhorting,  alarming, 
and  entreating,  but  their  arguments  seemed  to  have  no 
effect ;  and  when,  looking  about  them  for  more  effect- 
ual methods,  they  requested  the  secular  authorities  to 
carry  their  directions  into  execution,  the  elector's  coun- 
cil returned  for  answer,  that  the  question  was  one  that 
required  to  be  examined  by  the  Word  of  God,  and 
that  the  elector,  at  his  advanced  age,  could  not  engage 
in  theological  investigation.  These  expedients  of  the 
bishops  did  not  reclaim  a  single  soul  to  the  fold  of 
Home  ;  and  Luther,  who  passed  over  the  same  ground, 
shortly  afterward,  preaching  from  place  to  place,  dis- 
pelled, by  his  powerful  exhortation,  the  slight  impres- 
sion that  had  here  and  there  been  produced. 

It  was  to  be  feared  that  the  Archduke,  Ferdinand, 
brother  to  the  emperor,  would  do  what  Frederic  had 
declined  doing.  That  young  prince,  who  presided  at 
several  sittings  of  the  Diet,  gradually  acquiring  decision 
of  purpose,  might,  in  his  zeal,  boldly  unsheathe  the 
sword  that  his  more  prudent  and  politic  brother  wisely 
left  in  the  scabbard.  In  fact,  Ferdinand,  in  his  here- 
ditary states  of  Austria,  had  already  commenced  a  cruel 
persecution  against  those  who  were  favourable  to  the 
Reformation.  But  God,  on  various  occasions,  made 
instrumental,  in  the  deliverance  of  reviving  Christian- 
ity, the  very  same  agency  that  had  been  employed  for 
the  destruction  of  corrupt  Christianity.  The  Crescent 
suddenly  appeared  in  the  panic-struck  provinces  of 
Hungary.  On  the  9th  of  August,  after  a  siege  of  six 
weeks,  Belgrade,  the  advanced  post  of  that  kingdom, 
and  of  the  empire,  was  taken  by  assault  by  Soliman. 
The  followers  of  Mahomet,  after  retiring  from  Spain, 
seemed  intent  on  re-entering  Europe  from  the  East. 
The  Diet  of  Nuremberg  turned  its  attention  from  the 
Monk  of  Worms  to  the  Sultan  of  Constantinople.  But 
Charles  V.  kept  both  antagonists  in  view.  In  writing 
to  the  pope  from  Valadolid,  on  the  31st  of  October,  he 

»  Sarpi  Histoire  du  Concile  de  Trente,  p.  20. 
f  Per  longa  esperienza  delle  cose  del  mundo,  molto  prudente 
e  accorto.    (Nardi.  Hist.  Fior.,  lib.  7.) 
t  Sarpi  Hist,  du  Cone,  de  Tr.,  p.  21. 


said,  "  We  must  arrest  the  progress  of  the  Turks — 
and  punish  by  the  sword,  all  who  favour  the  pestilent 
doctrines  of  Luther."* 

It  was  not  long  before  the  thunderclouds,  which  had 
seemed  to  pass  by  and  roll  eastward,  again  gathered 
over  the  Reformer.  His  re-appearance  and  activity 
at  Wittemberg  had  revived  the  by  gone  hatred.  "  Now 
that  we  know  where  to  lay  hands  on  him,"  said  Duke 
George,  "  Why  not  carry  into  effect  the  sentence  of 
Worms  1"  It  was  confidently  affirmed  in  Germany,  that 
Charles  V.  and  Adrian  had,  in  a  meeting  at  Nurem- 
berg, concerted  the  measures  to  be  adopted.!  "  Satan 
feels  the  wound  that  has  been  inflicted  on  him,"  &aid 
Luther,  "  and  thence  his  rage.  But  Christ  has  already 
put  forth  his  power,  and  will  ere  long  trample  him  un- 
der foot,  in  spite  of  the  gates  of  hell."t 

In  the  month  of  December,  1522,  the  Diet  again 
assembled  at  Nuremberg.  Everything  announced  that, 
as  Soliman  had  been  the  great  enemy  that  had  fixed 
attention  in  the  spring  session,  Luther  would  be  its 
object  during  the  winter  sittings.  Adrian  VI.,  by  birth 
a  German,  hoped  to  find  that  favour  from  his  own  na- 
tion which  a  pope  of  Italian  origin  could  not  expect. § 
He,  in  consequence,  commissioned  Chieregati,  whom 
he  had  known  in  Spain,  to  repair  to  Nuremberg.  At 
the  opening  of  the  Diet,  several  of  the  princes  spoke 
strongly  against  Luther.  The  Cardinal-archbishop  of 
Salzburg,  who  was  high  in  the  confidence  of  the  em- 
peror, urged  the  adoption  of  prompt  and  vigorous  mea- 
sures, before  the  arrival  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony.  The 
Elector,  Joachim,  of  Brandenburg,  inflexible  in  his 
purpose,  and  the  Chancellor  of  Treves,  jointly  insisted 
that  the  edict  of  Worms  should  be  carried  into  effect. 
The  rest  of  the  princes  were,  in  great  part,  undecided, 
and  divided  in  opinion.  The  dilemma,  in  which  the 
church  was  placed,  filled  its  faithful  adherents  with 
anguish.  "  I  would  give  one  of  my  fingers,"  exclaimed 
the  Bishop  of  Strasburg,  in  open  assembly  of  the  Diet, 
"  I  would  give  one  of  my  fingers  to  be  no  priest."|| 

Chieregati,  supported  by  the  Cardinal  of  Salzburg, 
insisted  that  Luther  should  be  put  to  death.  "  It  is 
necessary,"  said  he,  speaking  in  the  pope's  name,  and 
holding  the  pope's  brief  in  his  hand,  "  it  is  indispensa- 
ble that  we  should  sever  from  the  body  that  gangrened 
member.  T  Your  forefathers  punished,  with  death, 
John  Huss  and  Jerome  of  Prague,  at  Constance,  but 
both  these  are  now  risen  up  in  Luther.  Follow  the 
glorious  example  of  your  ancestors,  and,  by  the  help 
of  God,  and  of  St.  Peter,  gain  a  signal  victory  over 
this  serpent  of  hell." 

On  hearing  the  brief  of  the  pious  and  mild  Adrian 
read  in  the  assembly,  the  majority  of  the  princes  were 
not  a  little  alarmed.**  Many  began  to  see  more  in 
Luther's  arguments ;  and  they  had  hoped  better  things 
from  the  pope.  Thus  then  Rome,  though  under  tho 
presidency  of  an  Adrian,  cannot  be  brought  to  acknow- 
ledge her  delinquency,  but  still  hurls  her  thunderbolts, 
and  the  fields  of  Germany  are  again  about  to  be  deluged 
with  blood.  While  the  princes  maintained  a  gloomy 
silence,  the  prelates,  and  such  members  of  the  Diet, 
as  were  in  the  interest  of  Rome,  tumultuously  urged 
the  adoption  of  a  decision.  "  Let  him  be  put  to  death. vtt 

*  Das  man  die  Nachfolger  derselben  vergiften  Lehre,  mit 
dem  Schwert  strafen  mag.  (L-  Opp.  xvii.  p.  321.) 

\  Cum  fama  sit  fortis  et  Ccesarem  et  Papam  Nurnbergam  con- 
venturos.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  214.) 

t  Sed  Christus  qui  coepit  conteret  eum.  (L.  Epp.  ii,  p. 
216.) 

§  Quod  ex  ea  regione  venirent,  unde  nobis  secundum  car- 
nem  origo  est,  (See  the  pope's  brief.  L.  Opp.  lat.  ii  p.  352.) 

||  Er  wollte  einen  Finger  drum  geben.     (Seek.  p.  668.) 

IT  Resecandos  uti  membra  jam  putrida  a  sano  corpore.  (Pal. 
i.  158.) 

**  Einen  grossen  Schreken  eingejagkt.    (Seek.  p.  552.) 

ft  Nicht  anders  geschrein  denn  :  Crucifae  '•  Owctyig*  .' 
(L.  Opp.  xviii.  p.  367.) 


264 


THE  POPE'S  CANDOUR— RESOLUTION  OF  THE  DIET— GRIEVANCES. 


cried  they — as  we  learn  from  the  Saxon  envoy  who 
was  present  at  this  sitting. 

Very  different  were  the  sounds  heard  in  the  churches 
of  Nuremberg.  The  chapel  of  the  hospital,  and  the 
churches  of  the  Augustines,  St.  Sebald  and  St.  Lo 
renzo,  were  crowded  with  multitudes  flocking  to  hear 
the  preaching  of  the  Gospel.  Andrew  Osiander  preach 
ed  powerfully  at  St.  Lorenzo's.  Many  princes  attend 
ed,  especially  Albert,  Margrave  of  Brandenburg,  who 
in  his  quality  of  Grand  Master  of  the  Teutonic  order 
took  rank  immediately  next  to  the  archbishops.  Monks 
abandoning  the  religious  houses  in  the  city,  applied 
themselves  to  learn  various  trades,  in  order  to  gain  their 
livelihood  by  their  labour. 

Chieregati  could  not  endure  such  daring  disobed  ience 
He  insisted  that  the  priests  and  refractory  monks  should 
be  imprisoned.  The  Diet,  notwithstanding  the  remon- 
strances of  the  ambassadors  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony, 
and  the  Margrave,  Cassimir,  decided  to  seize  the  per 
sons  of  the  monks,  but  consented  to  communicate  pre 
viously  to  Osiander  and  his  colleagues,  the  Nuncio's 
complaint.  A  committee,  under  the  direction  of  the 
fanatical  Cardinal  of  Salzburg,  was  charged  with  the 
matter.  The  danger  was  imminent — the  conflict  was 
on  the  point  of  commencing,  and  it  was  the  great 
Council  of  the  nation  that  provoked  it. 

Yet  the  people  interposed.  While  the  Diet  was 
engaged  in  deliberating  what  shall  be  done  with  these 
ministers,  the  town  council  was  considering  what  steps 
should  be  taken,  in  regard  to  the  decision  of  the  Diet. 
The  council  came  to  a  resolution  which  did  not  over- 
step the  limits  assigned  to  it  by  the  laws — that  if  force 
were  employed  to  deprive  them  of  their  preachers,  re- 
course should  be  had  to  force  to  set  them  at  liberty. 
Such  a  resolution  was  full  of  significance.  The  as- 
tonished Diet  returned  an  answer  to  the  Nuncio,  that 
it  was  not  lawful  to  arrest  the  preachers  of  the  free 
city  of  Nuremberg,  without  previously  convicting  them 
of  heresy. 

Chieregati  was  strangely  disconcerted  by  this  fresh 
insult  to  the  supreme  authority  of  the  Papacy. — "  Very 
well,"  said  he,  haughtily,  addressing  himself  to  Fer- 
dinand, "  do  you  then  do  nothing — leave  me  to  act — 
I  will  seize  the  preachers  in  the  pope's  name."*  When 
the  Cardinal-Archbishop,  Albert  of  Mentz,  and  the 
Margrave,  Cassimir,  were  apprized  of  this  startling  de- 
termination, they  came  in  haste  to  the  Legate,  implor- 
ing him  to  abandon  his  intention.  The  latter  was,  at 
first,  inflexible,  affirming,  that  in  the  bosom  of  Chris- 
tendom, obedience  to  the  pope  could  not  be  dispensed 
with.  The  two  princes  retired  : — "  If  you  persist  in 
your  intention,"  said  they,  "  we  require  you  to  send 
us  notice,  for  we  will  quit  the  city  before  you  venture 
to  lay  hands  on  the  preachers."!  The  Legate  aban- 
doned his  project. 

Despairing  of  success  by  authoritative  measures,  he 
now  decided  to  have  recourse  to  expedients  of  another 
kind,  and,  with  this  purpose,  communicated  to  the 
Diet  the  Pontiff's  intentions  and  orders,  which  he  had 
hitherto  kept  private. 

But  the  well-intentioned  Adrian,  little  used  to  the 
ways  of  the  world,  did  injury,  even  by  his  candour, 
to  the  cause  he  had  at  heart.  "  We  are  well 
aware,"  said  he,  in  the  « resolutions '  forwarded  to  his 
Legate,  "  that  for  many  years  past,  the  holy  city  has 
been  a  scene  of  many  corruptions  and  abominations.  J 
The  infection  has  spread,  from  the  head,  through  the 

*  Seseauctoritate  pontifica  curaturum  ut  isti  caperentur. 

(Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  606.) 

t  Priusquam  illi  caperentur.  se  urbe  cessuras  esse.     (Ibid.) 
j  In  earn  sedem  aliquot  jam  annos  qusedam  vitia  irrepsisse, 

abusus  in  rebus  sacris,  in  legibus  violationes,  in  cunctis  de- 

nique  perversionem.    (Pallav.  i.  p.  160.    See  also  Sarpi,  p.  25 

L.  Opp.  xviii.  p.  329,  &c. 


members,  and  has  descended  from  the  popes  to  the 
rest  of  the  clergy.  It  is  our  desire  to  reform  that  court 
of  Rome,  whence  so  many  evils  are  seen  to  flow — the 
whole  world  desires  it,  and  it  is  in  order  that  we  may 
do  this,  that  we  consented  to  ascend  the  throne  of  the 
pontiffs." 

The  supporters  of  Rome  blushed  to  hear  these  un- 
looked-for words.  "They  thought,"  as  Pallavicini 
says,  "that  such  admissions  were  too  sincere."*  The 
friends  of  the  Reformation,  on  the  contrary,  rejoiced 
to  hear  Rome  herself  proclaiming  her  corruption. — 
Who  could  doubt  that  Luther  had  truth  on  his  side, 
now  that  the  pope  declared  it ! 

The  answer  of  the  Diet  showed  how  greatly  the  au- 
thority of  the  chief  Pontiff  had  lost  ground  in  the  em- 
pire. Luther's  spirit  seemed  to  have  taken  possession 
of  the  hearts  of  the  nation's  representatives.  The 
moment  was  auspicious. — Adrian's  ear  seemed  open 
— the  emperor  was  at  a  distance: — the  Diet  resolved 
to  enumerate,  in  one  document,  the  various  wrongs 
that  Germany  had,  for  centuries,  endured  from  Rome, 
and  to  address  their  memorial  to  the  pope. 

The  Legate  was  alarmed  at  this  determination.  He 
used  threats  and  entreaties,  but  both  were  unavailing. 
The  secular  states  adhered  to  their  purpose,  and  the 
ecclesiastical  did  not  venture  to  offer  opposition. — 
Eighty  grievances  were  therefore  set  forth.  The  cor- 
ruptions and  arts  of  the  popes,  and  of  the  court  of 
Rome,  in  order  to  squeeze  revenue  from  Germany — 
the  scandals  and  profanations  of  the  clerical  orders — 
the  disorders  and  simony  of  the  ecclesiastical  courts 
— the  encroachments  on  the  civil  power,  to  the  restric- 
tion of  liberty  of  conscience,  were  detailed  with  equal 
freedom  and  force.  The  States  distinctly  intimated, 
that  traditions  of  men  were  the  source  of  all  this  abuse, 
and  they  ended  by  saying — "  If  these  grievances  are 
not  redressed  within  a  limited  time,  we  will  consult 
together,  and  seek  some  other  means  of  deliverance 
from  our  sufferings  and  our  wrongs. "t  Chieregati, 
having  a  presentiment  that  the  report  the  Diet  would 
prepare,  would  be  couched  in  strong  language,  hastily 
took  his  departure  from  Nuremberg,  thus  avoiding  be- 
ng  himself  the  bearer  of  so  disappointing  and  insolent 
a  communication. 

After  all,  was  it  not  still  to  be  feared  that  the  Diet 
would  endeavour  to  make  some  amends  for  this  bold 
measure,  by  the  sacrifice  of  Luther  himself]  At  first, 
there  were  some  apprehensions  of  such  a  policy — but 
a  spirit  of  justice  and  sincerity  had  been  breathed  on 
the  assembly.  Following  the  example  of  Luther,  it 
demanded  the  convocation  of  a  free  Council  in  the 
Umpire,  and  decreed,  that  until  such  Council  should 
assemble,  nothing  should  be  preached  but  the  simple 
Gospel,  and  nothing  put  forth  in  print,  without  the  sanc- 
;ion  of  a  certain  number  of  men  of  character  and  leani- 
ng.:}: These  resolutions  afford  us  some  means  of  es- 
imating  the  vast  advance  the  Reformation  had  made 
since  the  Diet  of  Worms — and  yet  the  Saxon  envoy, 
he  knight,  Frelitsch,  recorded  a  formal  protest  against 
,he  censorship  prescribed  by  the  Diet,  moderate  as  that 
censorship  might  seem.  The  decree  of  the  Diet  was 

first  victory  gained  by  the  Reformation,  which  was 
;he  presage  of  future  triumphs.  Even  the  Swiss,  in 
,he  depths  of  their  mountains,  shared  in  the  general 
jxultation.  "  The  Roman  Pontiff  has  been  defeated 
n  Germany  !"  said  Zwingle  ;  "  All  that  remains  to  be 
done  is  to  deprive  him  of  his  armour.  It  is  for  this, 
hat  we  must  now  fight,  and  the  battle  will  be  fiercer 

*  Liberioris  tamen  quam  par  erat,  sinceritatis  fuissc  visum 
est,  ea  conventui  patefacere.  (Ibid.  p.  162.) 

f  Wie  sie  solcher  Beschwerung  und  Drancsaal  entladen 
werden.  (L.  Opp.  xviii.  p.  354.) 

\  Ut  pie  placideque  purum  Evangeliura  praedicaretur.  (Pal. 
.  p.  166.  Sleiden,  i.  135.) 


THE  POPE  TO  THE  ELECTOR— HIS  BRIEF— THE  PRINCES  FEAR  HIM. 


265 


than  before.  But  we  have  Christ  present  with  us  in 
the  conflict."*  Luther  loudly  affirmed,  that  the  edict 
the  princes  had  put  forth,  was  by  inspiration  of  God 
himself,  t 

Great  was  the  indignation  at  the  Vatican,  among 
the  pope's  council.  "  What !  it  is  not  enough  to  have 
to  bear  with  a  pope  who  disappoints  the  expectation 
of  the  Romans,  in  whose  palace  no  sound  of  song  or 
amusement  is  ever  heard  ;  but,  in  addition  to  this,  se- 
cular princes  are  to  be  suffered  to  hold  a  language  that 
Rome  abhors,  and  refuse  to  deliver  up  the  monk  of 
Wittemberg  to  the  executioner!" 

Adrian  himself  was  indignant  at  thp  events  in  Ger- 
many, and  it  was  on  the  head  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony 
that  he  now  poured  out  his  anger.  Never  had  the 
Roman  Pontiffs  uttered  a  cry  of  alarm  more  energetic, 
more  sincere,  or  more  affecting. 

"  We  have  waited  long — perhaps  too  long,"  said 
the  pious  Adrian,  in  his  brief,  addressed  to  the  elector  ; 
"  It  was  our  desire  to  see  whether  God  would  visit  thy 
soul,  so  that  thou  mightest,  at  the  last,  be  delivered 
from  the  snares  of  the  devil.  But  where  we  had  hoped 
to  gather  grapes,  there  have  we  found  nothing  but  wild 
grapes.  The  Spirit's  promptings  have  been  despised  ; 
thy  wickedness  has  not  been  subdued.  Open,  then, 
thine  eyes,  to  behold  the  greatness  of  thy  fall ! 

If  the  unity  of  the  Church  is  gone — if  the  simple 
have  been  turned  out  of  the  way  of  that  faith  which 
they  had  suckled  from  their  mothers'  breasts — if  the 
churches  are  deserted — if  the  people  are  without  priests, 
and  the  priests  have  not  the  honour  due  to  them — if 
Christians  are  without  Christ,  to  whom  is  it  owing  but 
to  thee  U  ....  If  Christian  peace  has  forsaken  the 
earth — if,  on  every  side,  discord,  rebellion,  pillage,  vi- 
olence, and  midnight  conflagrations  prevail — if  the  cry 
of  war  is  heard  from  east  to  west — if  universal  conflict 
is  at  hand — it  is  thou  thyself,  who  art  the  author  of  all 
these. 

"Seest  thou  not  that  sacrilegious  man,  (Luther,) 
how  he  rends  with  wicked  hands,  and  profanely  tram- 
ples under  foot,  the  pictures  of  the  saints,  and  even 
the  holy  cross  of  Jesus?  ....  Seest  thou  not  how,  in 
his  infamous  rage,  he  incites  the  laity  to  shed  the  blood 
of  the  priests,  and  overturn  the  temples  of  the  Lord. 

"  And  what,  if  the  priests  he  assails  are  disorderly 
in  conduct?  Has  not  the  Lord  said,  '  Whatsoever  they 
lid  you,  that  observe  and  do,  but  do  not  after  their  works1 
— thus  instructing  us  in  the  honour  that  belongs  to 
them,  even  though  their  lives  should  be  disorderly. $ 

"Rebellious  apostate!  he  does  not  blush  to  defile 
vessels  dedicated  to  God  ;  he  forces  from  the  sanctu- 
arise  virgins  consecrated  to  Christ,  delivering  them 
over  to  the  devil ;  he  getteth  into  his  power  the  priests 
of  the  Lord,  and  gives  them  to  abandoned  women. 
Awful  profanation  !  which  even  the  heathen  would 
have  reprobated  in  the  priests  of  their  idol  worship. 

"  What  punishment,  what  infliction  dost  thou  think 
we  judge  thee  to  deserve  ?  Have  pity  on  thyself — 
have  pity  on  thy  poor  Saxons ;  for  surely,  if  thou  dost 
not  turn  from  the  evil  of  thy  way,  God  will  bring  down 
his  vengeance  upon  thee. 

"  In  the  name  of  the  Almighty  God,  and  our  Saviour, 
Jesus  Christ,  of  whom  I  am  vicegerent  on  earth,  I 
warn  thee,  that  thou  wilt  be  judged  in  this  world,  and 
be  cast  into  the  lake  of  everlasting  fire  in  that  which 
is  to  come.  Repent  and  be  converted.  Both  swords 

*  Victus  est  ac  ferme  profligatus  e  Germania  romanus  Pon- 
tifex.  (Zw.  Epp.  313,  llth  of  Oct.  1523  ) 

t  Gott  habe  solches  E.  G.  eingeben.    (L.  Opp.  xviii.  476.) 

|  Dass  die  Kirchen  ohne  Volk  sind,  dass  die  Volker  ohne 
Priester  sind,  dass  die  Priester  ohne  Ehre  sind,  und  dass  die 
Christen  ohne  Christo  sind.  (L.  Opp.  xviii.  p.  371.) 

t)  Wen  sie  gleich  eines  verdammten  Lebens  sind.  (L.  Opp. 
Xviii.  p.  379 ) 


are  impending  over  thy  head — the  sword  of  the  Em- 
pire, and  that  of  the  Papal  authority." 

The  pious  Frederic  shuddered  as  he  read  this  me- 
nacing brief.  A  little  before,  he  had  written  to  the 
emperor  to  say,  that  his  age  and  bodily  indisposition 
incapacitated  him  for  attending  to  such  matters ;  and 
the  answer  returned  was  one  of  the  most  insolent  let- 
ters a  feigning  prince  had  ever  received.  Infirm  and 
aged  as  he  was,  his  eyes  rested  upon  the  sword  he  had 
received  at  the  holy  sepulchre,  in  the  days  of  youthful 
vigour.  A  thought  crossed  his  mind,  that  it  might  be 
necessary  to  unsheath  it  in  defence  of  the  conscience 
of  his  subjects,  and  that,  near  as  his  life  was  to  its 
close,  he  should  not  descend  to  the  grave  in  peace. 
He  forthwith  wrote  to  Wittemberg,  to  have  the  judg- 
ment of  the  fathers  of  the  Reformation,  as  to  what 
should  be  done. 

There,  also,  forebodings  of  commotion  and  perse- 
cution were  rife.  "  What  can  I  say,"  exclaimed  the 
mild  Melancthon,  "  whither  can  I  turn  ?*  Hatred 
presses  us  to  the  earth — the  world  is  up  in  arms  against 
us."  Luther,  Link,  Melancthon,  Bugenhagen,  and 
Amsdorff,  held  a  consultation  on  the  answer  to  be 
returned  to  the  elector.  They  drew  up  a  reply,  each 
in  terms  nearly  identical,  and  the  advice  they  gave  is 
not  a  little  remarkable. 

"  No  prince,"  said  they,  "  can  undertake  a  war  with- 
out the  consent  of  the  beople  from  whose  hands  he  has 
received  his  authority,  t  But  the  people  have  no  heart 
to  fight  for  the  Gospel,  for  they  do  not  believe.  There- 
fore, let  not  princes  take  up  arms ;  they  are  rulers  of 
the  nations,  that  is  to  say,  of  unbelievers."  Here  we 
find  the  impetuous  Luther  soliciting  the  discreet  Fre- 
deric to  restore  his  sword  to  its  scabbard.  No  better 
answer  could  be  given  to  the  pope's  charge,  that  he 
stirred  up  the  laity  to  imbrue  their  hands  in  the  blood 
of  the  priests.  Few  characters  have  been  more  mis- 
understood than  his.  This  advice  was  dated  the  8th 
of  February,  1523.  Frederic  submitted  in  silence. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  effects  of  the  pope's  an- 
ger began  to  be  seen.  The  princes  who  had  recapi- 
tulated their  grievances,  now  dreading  the  conse- 
quences, sought  to  make  amends  by  compliances. — 
Some,  there  were,  who  reflected  that  victory  would 
probably  declare  for  the  Pontiff,  seeing  that  he,  to  all 
appearance,  was  the  stronger  of  the  two.  "  In  our 
days,"  observed  Luther,  "  princes  are  content  to  say, 
three  times  three  make  nine,  or  twice  seven  make  four- 
teen— right,  the  counsel  shall  stand.  Then  the  Lord, 
our  God,  arises  and  speaks  :  '  What,  then,  do  you  al- 
low for  My  power?  ....  It  may  be  naught  .  .  -  . 
And  immediately  He  confuses  the  figures,  and  their 
calculations  are  proved  false. "t 

The  stream  of  fire  poured  forth  by  the  humble  and 
gentle  Adrian  kindled  a  conflagration,  and  the  rising 
flame  spread  far  and  wide,  in  Christendom,  a  deep  agi- 
tation. Persecution,  which  had  slackened  for  a  whHe, 
was  now  renewed.  Luther  trembled  for  Germany, 
and  sought  to  allay  the  tempest.  "  If  the  princes  make 
war  against  the  truth,"  said  he,  "  there  will  be  such 
confusion  as  will  be  the  ruin  of  princes,  magistrates, 
clergy,  and  people.  I  tremble  at  the  thought  that  all 
Germany  may,  in  a  little  while,  be  deluged  with  blood.$ 
Let  us  stand  as  a  rampart  for  our  country  against  the 
wrath  of  oar  God.  Nations  are  not  now,  as  formcr- 
ly.li  The  sword  of  civil  war  is  impending  over  kings : 

*  Quid  dicam  ?  quo  me  vertam  ?    (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  627.) 

f  Principi  nullum  licet  suscipere  bellum,  nisi  consentiente 
populo,  a  quo  accepit  imperium.  (Ibid.  p.  601.) 

I  So  kehrt  er  ihnen  auch  die  Reehnung  gar  urn.  (L.  Opp. 
xxii.  1831.) 

^  Ut  videar  mihividere  Germaniam  in  sanguine  natare.  (L. 
Epp.  ii.p.  156.) 

||  Gogitent  populos  non  esse  tales  modo,  quales  hactenus  fu- 
erunt.  (Ibid.  p.  157.) 


266      »  THE  FIERY  TRIAL"—"  THE  FAILING  MINES  "—AUGUSTINE  CONVENT. 


- — they  are  bent  on  destroying  Luther — but  Luther  is 
bent  on  saving  them  ;  Christ  lives  and  reigns,  and  I 
shall  reign  with  him.* 

These  words  were  spoken  to  the  winds.  Rome  was 
pressing  forward  to  scaffolds  and  the  shedding  of  blood. 
The  Reformation,  in  this,  resembled  Jesus  Christ — 
that  it  came  not  to  send  peace  on  the  earth,  but  a 
sword.  Persecution  was  necessary  in  the  counsels  of 
God.  As  certain  substances  are  hardened  in  the  fire, 
that  they  may  be  less  liable  to  be  affected  by  atmo- 
spheric changes,  so  the  fiery  trial  was  designed  to  arm 
and  defend  the  truth  of  the  Gospel  from  the  influence 
of  the  world.  But  that  fiery  trial  did  yet  more  : — it 
served,  as  in  the  early  days  of  Christianity,  to  kindle 
in  men's  hearts  an  universal  enthusiasm  for  a  cause 
against  which  such  rage  was  let  loose.  There  is,  in 
man,  when  first  introduced  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
truth,  a  holy  indignation  against  violence  and  injustice. 
An  instinct,  received  from  God,  impels  him  to  range 
himself  on  the  side  of  the  oppressed  ;  and,  at  the  same 
time,  the  faith  of  the  martyrs  exalts,  controls,  and  leads 
him  to  that  saving  truth  which  gifts  its  followers  with 
so  much  courage  and  tranquillity. 

Duke  George  openly  took  the  lead  in  the  persecu- 
tion. But  he  was  not  content  to  carry  it  on  among 
his  own  subjects ;  he  desired,  above  all,  to  see  it  ex- 
tend itself  to  electoral  Saxony,  the  focus  of  heresy,  and 
he  laboured  hard  to  move  the  Elector,  Frederic,  and 
Duke  John.  In  writing  to  them  from  Nuremberg,  he 
observed,  "  Certain  merchants,  recently  from  Saxony, 
bring  report  from  thence  of  strange  things,  and  such 
as  are  most  opposed  to  the  honour  of  God  and  the 
saints.  It  seems,  they  take  the  holy  sacrament  in  their 
hands — consecrate  the  bread  and  wine  in  the  common 
speech  of  the  people — pour  the  blood  of  Christ  into  a 
common  cup.  It  is  said,  that  at  Eulenberg,  a  man 
•who  sought  occasion  to  insult  the  officiating  priest, 
rode  into  the  church  mounted  on  an  ass.  And  what 
do  we  hear  to  be  the  consequence  1  The  mines,  with 
which  God  had  enriched  Saxony,  are  become  less  pro- 
ductive, ever  since  this  preaching  of  Luther's  innova- 
tions. Would  to  God  that  those,  who  boast  that  they 
have  restored  the  Gospel  in  the  electorate,  had  em- 
ployed themselves  in  carrying  the  testimony  of  it  to 
Constantinople.  Luther's  speech  is  gentle  and  spe- 
cious, but  it  draws  after  it  a  sting  which  is  sharper 
than  a  scorpion's.  Let  us  make  ready  our  hands  to 
fight.  Let  us  cast  these  apostate  monks  and  ungodly 
priests  into  prison  ;  let  us  do  so  at  once  ;  for  the  hairs 
of  our  heads  are  turning  as  grey  as  our  beards,  and 
admonish  us  that  we  have  not  long  to  live."t 

So  wrote  Duke  George  to  the  elector.  The  latter 
answered  decidedly,  yet  mildly,  that  whoever  should 
commit  any  crime  within  his  state  should  not  go  un- 
punished ;  but,  that  as  to  matters  of  conscience,  they 
must  be  left  to  the  judgment  of  God.t 

Failing  in  his  endeavour  to  persuade  Frederic, 
Gcorrge  pressed  his  severities  against  such  as  lay  with- 
in his  reach.  He  imprisoned  the  monks  and  priests 
who  wero  known  to  adhere  to  Luther's  doctrines— re- 
called to  their  families  the  students  who  had  gone  from 
his  states  to  pursue  their  studies  in  the  universities  to 
which  the  Reformation  had  extended,  and  required  his 
subjects  to  deliver  up  to  the  magistrates  all  copies  of 
the  New  Testament  in  the  vernacular  tongue.  Similar 
measures  were  put  in  force  in  Austria,  Wurtemberg, 
and  the  Duchy  of  Brunswick. 

But  it  was  in  the  Low  Countries,  under  tho  imme- 
diate rule  of  Charles  V.,  that  the  persecution  broke  out 

*Christus  meua  vivit  et  regnat,  et  ego  vivam  et  regnabo. 
(Ibid.  p.  153.) 

t  Wie  ihre  Bart  und  Haare  ausweisen.    (Seek.  p.  482.) 

j  Mussc  man  solchc  Dinge  Oott  iiberlasaen,  (Seckend.  p. 
485.) 


with  most  violence.  The  convent  of  the  Augustines, 
at  Antwerp,  contained  within  it  many  monks  who  had 
hailed  with  joy  the  truths  of  the  Gospel.  Several  of 
the  brothers  had  passed  some  time  at  Wittemberg,  and 
ever  since  1519,  Salvation  by  Grace  had  been  preached 
in  their  church  w'ith  unusual  power  Toward  the  close 
of  the  year,  1521,  James  Probst,  the  prior,  a  man  of 
ardent  temperament,  and  Melchior  Mirisch,  who  was 
remarkable  for  the  opposite  qualities  of  experience  and 
prudence,  were  arrested  and  carried  to  Brussels.  They 
were  there  brought  before  Aleandar,  Glapio,  and  seve- 
ral other  prelates.  Taken  unawares,  disconcerted,  and 
dreading  consequences,  Probst  recanted.  Melchior 
Mirisch  found  means  to  appease  his  judges  ;  and,  while 
he  avoided  a  recantation,  escaped  condemnation. 

These  proceedings  no  way  overawed  the  monks  who 
remained  in  the  convent  of  Antwerp.  They  continued 
to  preach  the  Gospel  with  earnestness.  The  people 
crowded  to  hear,  and  the  church  of  the  Augustines,  at 
Antwerp,  was  unable  to  contain  the  hearers,  as  had 
been  the  case  at  Wittemberg.  In  October,  1522,  the 
storm,  which  had  been  gathering  over  their  heads,  sud- 
denly burst  forth.  The  convent  was  closed,  and  the 
monks  imprisoned  and  sentenced  to  die.*  A  few  ef- 
fected their  escape.  Some  women,  roused  into  forget- 
fulness  of  the  natural  timidity  of  their  sex,  rescued  one 
of  them,  by  name,  Henry  Zuphten,  from  the  hands  of 
the  executioner. f  Three  of  the  younger  monks,  Henry 
Voe,  John  Eesch,  and  Lambert  Thorn,  evaded,  for  a 
time,  the  search  of  the  inquisitors.  The  sacred  vessels 
of  the  convent  were  publicly  sold,  the  entrance  to  the 
church  barricaded,  the  holy  sacrament  was  carried  forth 
as  if  from  a  place  of  pollution,  and  Margaret,  who  then 
governed  the  Low  Countries,  solemnly  received  it  into 
the  church  of  the  Holy  Virgin. t  An  order  was  given 
that  not  one  stone  should  be  left  upon  another  of  that 
heretical  monastery  ;  and  several  private  citizens  and 
women,  who  had  joyfully  received  the  Gospel  were 
thrown  into  prison. § 

Luther  was  deeply  grieved  on  receiving  intelligence  of 
these  events.  "The  cause  we  have  in  hand,"  said  he, "  is 
no  longer  a  mere  trial  of  strength,  it  demands  the  sacri- 
fice of  our  lives,  and  must  be  cemented  by  our  blood. "U 

Mirisch  and  Probst  were  reserved  for  a  very  differ- 
ent fate.  The  politic  Mirisch  soon  became  the  do- 
cile slave  of  Rome,  and  was  employed  in  carrying  into 
execution  the  imperial  orders  against  the  favourers  of 
the  Reformation. T  Probst,  on  the  contrary,  escaping 
out  of  the  hands  of  the  inquisitors,  wept  bitterly  over 
his  failure,  retraced  his  recantation,  and  boldly  preach- 
ed at  Bruges,  in  Flanders,  the  doctrine  he  had  abjured. 
Being  again  arrested,  and  cast  into  prison  at  Brussels, 
death  seemed  inevitable.**  A  Franciscan  took  pity  upon 
him,  assisted  him  in  his  flght,  and  Probst,  "  saved  by 
a  miracle  of  God,"  says  Luther,  reached  Wittemberg, 
where  all  hearts  were  filled  with  joy  at  his  second  de- 
liverance.ft 

On  every  side  the  priests  of  Rome  were  under  arms. 

*  Zum  Tode  verurtheilet.     (Seek.  p.  648.) 
f  Quomodojnuliers  vi  Henricum  liberarint.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p. 
265.) 

$  Susceptum  honorifice  a  domina  Margareta.    (Ibid.) 
^  Cives  aliquos,  et  mulieres  vexatse  et  punitas.   (Ibid.) 
||  Et  vitam  exiget  etsanguinem.   (Ibid.  181.) 
IT  Est  executor  Csesaris  contro  nostros.    (Ibid.  p.  207.) 
»»  Domo  captum,  exustum  credimus.   (Ibid.  p.  214.) 
ft  Jacobus,  Dei  miraculo  liberatus  qui  nunc  agit  nobisoum. 
(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  18-2.)   This  letter,  which  is  found  in  M.  De  Wet- 
te's  collection,  under  the  date  of  April  14,  must  be  subsequenk 
to  the  month  of  June,  since,  on  the  26th  of  June,  we  find  Lu 
thersaying,  that  Probst  has  been  again  taken,  and  was  ex 
pected  to  be  burnt.   The  supposition  that  would  solve  the  dif 
ficulty,  by  supposing  Probst  to  have  been  at  Wittemberg  be 
tween  these  two  captures,  is  not  admissible,  for  Luther  woulj 
not  have  said  of  a  Christian,  who  had  been  saved  from  deatl 
by  his  recantation,  that  he  had  been  delivered  by  a  miracli 
of  God.  Perhaps  we  should  read  the  date,  &c.,  of  this  letter. 


THE  INQUISITORS  AND  CONFESSORS— THE  FATE  OF  LAMBERT. 


267 


The  town  of  Miltenberg  on  the  Maine,  in  the  juris 
diction  of  the  Elector-archbishop  of  Mentz,  had,  of  a 
the  towns  of  Germany,  received  the  word  of  God  wit 
most  joy.      The  inhabitants  were  much  attached  t 
their  pastor,  John  Draco,  one  of  the  most  enlighlenec 
men  of  his  time.       He  was  compelled  to  leave  th 
city ;    but  the  Roman  clergy  withdrew  at  the  sam 
time,  dreading  the  vengeance  of  the  people.  An  evan 
gelical  deacoa  remained  behind,  and  comforted  thei 
hearts.     At  the  same  time  the  soldiery  of  Mentz  were 
introduced  and  dispersed  through  the  city,  vomiting 
blasphemies,  brandishing  their  swords,  and  giving  them- 
selves up  to  debauchery  * 

Some  of  the  evangelical  Christians  fell  victims  to 
their  violence;!  others  were  seised  and  thrown  ink 
dungeons ;  the  rites  of  Romish  worship  were  restored 
the  reading  of  the  Scriptures  prohibited  ;  and  the  in 
habitants  forbidden  to  speak  of  the  Gospel,  even  in 
their  family  meetings.  The  deacon  had  taken  refug< 
with  a  poor  widow,  on  the  entrance  of  the  troops.  In 
formation  was  given  to  the  commanding  officer,  and  a 
soldier  despatched  to  take  him.  The  humble  deacon 
hearing  the  steps  of  the  soldier  who  sought  his  life 
advancing,  quietly  waited  for  him,  and,  just  as  the 
door  of  the  chamber  was  abruptly  pushed  open,  h 
came  forward,  and,  embracing  him,  said,  "  I  bid  you 
welcome,  brother  ;  here  I  am — plunge  your  sword  in 
tny  bosom. "+  The  stern  soldier,  in  astonishment, 
dropped  his  weapon,  and  contrived  to  save  the  pious 
evangelist  from  further  molestation. 

Meanwhile,  the  inquisitors  of  the  Low  Countries 
thirsting  for  blood,  scoured  the  neighbouring  country 
searched  everywhere  for  the  young  Augustines,  who 
had  escaped  from  the  Antwerp  persecution.  Eesch, 
Voes,  and  Lambert,  were  at  last  discovered,  put  in 
chains,  and  conducted  to  Brussels,  Egmondanus 
Hochstraten,  «nd  several  other  inquisitors,  summoned 
them  to  their  presence.  "  Do  you  retract  your  opinion, 
inquired  Hochstraten,  "  that  "the  priest  has  no  power 
to  forgive  sins,  but  that  that  power  belongs  to  God 
•alone  T' — and  then  he  went  on  to  enumerates  the  other 
Gospel  truths  which  he  required  them  to  abjure.  "No, 
we  will  retract  nothing,"  exclaimed  Eesch  and  Voes, 
firmly  ;  «4  we  will  not  disown  God's  word ;  we  will 
rather  die  for  the  faith  J" 

THE  INQUISITOR. — «  Confess  that  yxsu  have  been 
deceived  by  Luther." 

THE  YOUNG  AUGUSTINES. — "  As  the  apostles  were 
deceived  by  Jesus  Christ." 

THE  INQUISITORS. — "  We  declare  you  to  be  here- 
tics, worthy  of  being  burnt  alive  ;  and  we  deliver  you 
over  to  the  secular  arm." 

Lambert  was  silent.  The  prospect  of  death  terri- 
fied him.  Distress  and  uncertainty  agitated  his  heart, 
"  I  request  four  days'  respite,"  said  he,  in  stifled  emo- 
tion. He  was  taken  back  to  prison.  As  soon  as  his 
respite  was  expired,  Eesch  and  Voes  were  degraded 
from  their  priestly  office,  and  handed  over  to  the 
council  of  the  reigning  governess  of  the  Low  Coun- 
tries. The  council  delivered  them,  bound,  to  the  ex- 
ecutioner. Hochstraten,  and  the  three  other  inquisi- 
tors, accompanied  them  to  the  place  of  execution. § 

Arriving  at  the  scaffold,  the  young  martyrs  contem- 
plated it  with  calmness.  Their  constancy,  their  piety, 
and  their  youth,  drew  tears  from  the  inquisitors  them- 
selves. When  they  were  bound  to  the  stakc,fl  the 
instead  of  "in  die  S.  Tiburtii,"— " in  die  Turiafi,"— which 
would  place  it  in  July  13 — the  probable  date,  in  my  opinion. 
*  So  sie  doch  schandlicher  leben  dean  Huren  und  Buben. 
<L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  482.) 

t  Schlug  etliche  todt.    (Seek.  p.  604,) 
t  Sey  gegriisst,  mein  bruder.  (Scultet.  ann.  i.  p.  173.) 
f)  Facta  est  hasc  res  BnixeUae  in  publico  foro.    (L.  Epp.  ii. 

9  Nondum  triginta  annorun.  (L.  Epp,  ii.  p.  361.) 


confessors  drew  near,  "  Once  more  we  ask  you  if  you 
will  receive  the  Christian  faith!" 

THB  MARTYRS. — "  We  believe  in  the  Christian 
church,  but  not  in  your  church." 

H*lf-an-hour  elapsed.  It  was  a  pause  of  hesitation* 
A  hope  had  been  cherished,  that  the  near  prospect  of 
such  a  death  would  intimidate  these  youths.  But, 
alone  tranquil  of  all  the  crowd  that  thronged  the  square, 
they  began  to  sing  psalms — stopping,  from  time  to 
time,  to  declare  that  they  were  resolved  to  die  for  the 
name  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"  Be  converted,  be  converted,"  cried  the  inquisitors, 
"or  you  will  die  in  the  name  of  the  devil."  "  No  !" 
answered  the  martyrs,  "  we  will  die  like  Christians, 
and  for  the  truth  of  the  Gospel," 

The  pile  was  then  lighted.  While  the  flame  slowly 
ascended,  a  heavenly  peace  dilated  their  hearts  ;  arnl 
one  of  them  could  even  say,  *'  I  seem  to  be  on  a  bed 
of  roses."*  The  solemn  hour  was  come — death  was 
at  hand.  The  two  martyrs  cried  with  a  loud  voice, 
"  O  Lord  Jesus,  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  upon  us  !" 
and  then  they  began  to  recite  their  creed. t  At  last 
the  dames  reached  them  ;  but  the  fire  consumed  the 
cords  which  fastened  them  to  the  stake,  before  their 
breath  was  gone.  One  of  them,  feeling  his  liberty, 
dropped  upon  bis  knees  in  the  midst  of  the  dames,  and 
then,  in  worship  to  his  Lord,  exclaimed,  clasping  his 
hands,  "  Lord  Jesus,  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  on 
us  !"$ 

Their  bodies  were  quickly  wrapt  in  flame  ;  they 
shouted  "  Te  Deurn  laudamus-"  Soon  their  voices 
were  stifled,  and  their  ashes  alone  remained. 

This  execution  had  lasted  four  hours.  It  was  on 
the  1st  of  July,  1523,  that  the  first  martyrs  of  the  Re- 
formation laid  down  their  lives  for  the  Gospel. 

AH  good  men  shuddered  when  they  heard  of  these 
events.  The  future  was  big  with  fearful  anticipations. 
"The  executions  have  begun, "<&  said  Erasmus.  "At 
length,"  exclaimed  Luther,  "  Christ  is  gathering  somo 
fruits  of  our  preaching,  and  preparing  new  martyrs," 

But  the  joy  of  Luther  in  the  constancy  of  these 
young  Christians,  w«s  disturbed  by  the  thoughts  of 
Lambert,  Of  the  three,  Lambert  possessed  most  learn- 
ing ;  he  had  been  chosen  to  fill  the  place  of  Probst,  as 
preacher  of  Antwerp.  Finding  no  peace  in  his  dungeon, 
tie  was  terrified  at  the  prospect  of  death ;  but  still  more 
by  conscience,  which  reproached  him  with  his  coward- 
ice, and  urged  him  to  confess  the  Gospel.  Delivered, 
ere  long,  from  his  fears,  he  boldly  proclaimed  the 
truth,  and  died  like  his  brethren.^ 

A  noble  harvest  sprung  up  from  the  blood  of  these 
martyrs.  Brussels  manifested  a  willingness  to  receive 
the  Gospel.lT  "  Wherever  Aleander  lights  a  pile," 
remarked  Erasmus,  u  there  it  seems  as  if  he  had  sowed 
leretics."*"* 

'  I  am  bound  with  you  in  your  bonds,"  exclaimed 
Luther  ;  "  your  dungeons  and  your  burnings  my  soul 
akes  part  in. It  All  of  us  are  with  you  in  spirit,  and 
h«  Lord  is  above  it  all  !" 


Dit  schgnen  my  als  roosen  tc  zijn.    (Brandt,  Hist,  dcr  Re« 
ormatie,  i.  p  79.) 

f  Admoto  i^ni  canere  coeperunt  symbolum  fidei,  says  Eras- 

us.    (Epp.  i.  p.  1279.) 

t  Da  ist  der  cine  im  Feuer  auf  die  Knie  refallen.    (L.  Opp. 
tviii.  p.  431,) 

^  Coepta  est  carnificini.   (Epp.  i.  p,  129,) 

|  Quarra  post  exastus  est  tertius  frater  Lambertus.  (L.  Epp. 
i.p.361.) 

IT  Ea  morg  multos  fecit  Lutharanos.  {Er.  Epp.  p.  952.)  Turn 
emum  ccepit  civitas  favere  Luthero.     (Ibid.  p.  1676.    Eras- 
mus  to  Duke  George.)  Ea  civitas  antea  purissima.     (Ibid.  p. 
430.1 

**  Ubicumque  fumes  excitavit  nuntius,  ibi  diceres  fuisse 
actam  haereseon  sementetn.    (!bid.) 

ft  Vestra  vincula  mea  sunt,  vestri  cactjres  et  ignei  m«i 
«nt.    (L.  Epp.  ii,  p.  4«4.) 


268 


HYMN  ON  THE  MARTYRS— THE  LEGATE  CAMPEGGIO. 


He  proceeded  to  compose  a  hymn,  commemorative 
of  the  death  of  the  young  monks  ;  and  soon,  in  every 
direction,  throughout  Germany  and  the  Low  Countries 
^-rin  towns  and  in  villages,  were  heard  accents  of  song, 
which  communicated  an  enthusiasm  for  the  faith  of 
the  martyrs.* 

Flung  to  the  heedless  winds, 
Qr  on  the  waters  cast. 
Their  ashes  shall  be  watched, 
And  gathered  at  the  last. 
And  from  that  scattered  dust, 
Around  us  and  abroad, 
Shall  spring  a  plenteous  seed 
Of  witnesses  for  God. 

Jesus  hath  now  received 
Their  latest  living  breath- 
Yet  vain  is  Satan's  boast 
Of  victory  in  their  death. 
Still,  still,  though  dead,  they 
And,  trumpet-tongued,  procl 
To  many  a  wakening  land, 
The  one  availing  Name  I 

Doubtless  Adrian  would  have  persisted  in  those  vi- 
olent measures — the  failure  of  his  efforts  to  arrest  the 
progress  of  the  Reformation,  his  own  orthodoxy,  his 
zeal,  his  inflexibility,  even  his  conscientiousness  would 
have  made  him  an  unrelenting  persecutor.  Providence 
ordained  otherwise.  He  expired  on  the  14th  of  Sep- 
tember, 1523 ;  and  the  Romans,  overjoyed  at  being 
rid  of  the  stern  foreigner,  suspended  a  crown  of  flowers 
at  the  door  of  his  physician,  with  an  inscription — "  To 
the  saviour  of  his  country," 

Julio  de  Medicis,  cousin  to  Leo  X.,  succeeded  Adri- 
an, under  the  name  of  Clement  VII.  From  the  day 
of  his  election,  all  ideas  of  religious  reformation  were 
at  an  end.  The  new  pope,  like  many  of  his  predeces- 
sors, thought  only  of  maintaining  the  privileges  of  the 
papacy,  and  employing  its  resources  for  his  own  ag- 
grandisement. 

Anxious  to  repair  the  indiscretions  of  Adrian,  Cle- 
ment dispatched  a  legate  of  a  character  resembling  his 
own,  Cardinal  Campeggio,  the  ablest  prelate  of  his 
court,  and  a  man  of  large  experience,  well  acquainted 
with  most  of  the  German  princes.  After  a  pompous 
reception  in  his  passage  through  the  Italian  cities,  the 
Legate  soon  noticed  the  change  that  had  taken  place 
in  the  Empire.  On  entering  Augsburg,  he  proposed, 
according  to  custom,  to  give  his  benediction  to  the 
people  ;  but  those  to  whom  he  spoke  met  the  propo- 
sal by  a  smile.  The  hint  was  enough ;  and  he  entered 
Nuremberg  incognito,  without  repairing  to.  S.t,  Sebal- 
de's  church,  where  the  clergy  were  waiting  for  him. 
No  priests  in  sacerdotal  vestments  were  seen  advancing 
to  greet  him-r-no.  cross  was  borne  in  solemn  state  be- 
fore him  ;  but  one  might  have  thought  a  private  indi- 
vidual was  taking  his  journey  through  the  city.t 
Everything  indicated  that  the  reign  of  the  Papacy  was 
drawing  to  its  cloe. 

The  diet  had  met  again  in  sesaion,  at  Nuremberg, 
in  January,  1525.  A  storm  was  impending  over  the 
government  of  the  nation,  owing  to  the  firmness  of 
Frederic.  The  Suabian  league,  comprising  the  richest 
cities  of  the  empire,  and,  above  all,  Charles  the  Fifth, 

*  Die  Asche  will  nicht  lassen  ab, 

Sie  staubt  in  alkn  Linden, 

Hie  hilft  kein  Bach,  Loch,  nock  Grab  ..,.(!«.  Opp.  xviii. 
p.  481.) 

Obligingly  rendered  by  John  Alex.  Messenger  :  to  whose 
friendly  pen  the  publisher  is  indebted  for  the  touching 
hymns  of  Zwingle,  [see  Vol  ij.  p.  329-^332,]  asi  well  as  for 
the  translation  of  a  considerable  portion  of  the  Second  Vol- 
ume ;  besides  other  assistance,  and  many  valuable  sug 
gestions. 

t  Communi  habitu  quod  per  sylvas  et  campos  ierat,  per 
mediam  urbem .  .  .  siae  .clero,  sine  pr»via  cruce.  (Cochl. 
p.  83.) 


had  combined  for  his  destruction.  He  was  charged 
with  favouring  the  newly-broached  heresy.  Accord- 
ingly, it  was  decided  that  the  executive  powers  should 
be  so  entirely  changed  as  not  to  retain  one  of  the  old 
members.  Frederic,  overwhelmed  with  grief,  instantly 
took  his  departure  from  Nuremberg. 

Easter  drew  nigh.  Osiander  and  the  gospel  prea- 
chers redoubled  their  activity.  The  former  preached 
publicly  to  the  effect,  that  Antichrist  entered  Rome 
the  very  day  that  Constantine  had  quitted  it  to  fix  his 
residence  at  Constantinople,  The  ceremony  of  Palm 
Sunday  and  others  were  omitted  :  four  thousand  per- 
sons partook  of  the  supper  under  both  kinds  ;  and  the 
Queen  of  Denmark,  sister  to  the  Emperor,  publicly 
received  it  in  like  manner  at  the  Castle.  "  Oh  !"  ex- 
claimed the  Archduke  Ferdinand,  loosing  all  self-com- 
mand, "  would  that  you  were  not  my  sister." — "  The 
same  mother  bore  us,"  replied  the  Queen  ;  "  and  I 
would  give  up  everything  but  God's  truth  to  servo 
you."* 

Campeggio  trembled  at  witnessing  such  audacity  ; 
nevertheless,  affecting  to  despise  the  jeers  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  the  harangues  of  the  preachers — and  relying 
on  the  authority  of  the  Emperor  and  of  the  Pope,  he 
referred  the  Diet  to  the  edict  of  Worms,  and  demanded 
that  the  Reformation  should  be  put  down  by  force. 
On  hearing  this,  some  of  the  princes  and  deputies  gave 
vent  to  their  indignation.  "  And  pray,"  asked  they, 
addressing  Campeggio,  "  what  has  become  of  the  me- 
morial of  grievances  presented  to  the  Pope  by  the  peo- 
ple of  Germany?"  The  Legate,  acting  upon  his  instruc- 
tions, assumed  an  air  of  bland  surprise  :  "  Three  ver- 
sions of  that  memorial  have  been  received  in  Rome," 
said  he ;  "  but  it  has  never  been  officially  communi- 
cated ;  and  I  could  never  believe  that  so  unseemly  a 
paper  could  have  emanated  from  your  Highnesses." 

The  Diet  was  stung  by  this  reply.  If  this  be  the 
spirit  in  which  the  Pope  receives  their  representations, 
they  also  know  what  reception  to  give  to  such  as  he 
should  address  to  them.  Several  deputies  remarked, 
that  such  was  the  eagerness  of  the  people  for  the 
Word  of  God,  that  the  attempt  to  deprive  them  of  it 
would  occasion  torrents  of  bloodshed. 

The  Diet  straightway  set  about  preparing  an  answer 
to  the  Pope.  As  it  was  not  possible  to  get  rid  of  the 
edict  of  Worms,  a  clause  was  added  to  it,  which  had 
the  effect  of  rendering  it  null.  "  We  require,"  said 
they,  "  that  all  should  conform  to  it — so  far  as  is  pos- 
sible.'^ But  several  of  the  states  had  declared  that 
it  was  impossible  to  enforce  it.  At  the  same  time 
calling  to  mind  the  unwelcome  remembrance  of  the 
Councils  of  Constance  and  of  Bale,  the  Diet  demand- 
ed the  convocation  in  Germany  of  a  General  Council 
of  Christendom. 

The  friends  of  the  Reformation  did  not  stop  ihere. 
What  could  they  look  for  from  a  Council  which  might 
perhaps  never  be  called  together,  and  which,  in  a,ny 
case,  would  be  sure  to  be  composed  of  bishops  of  all 
nations  ?  Will  Germany  humble  her  anti-Roman  in- 
clinations in  deference  to  prelates  assembled  from 
Spain,  France,  England,  and  Italy  1  The  government 
of  the  nation  had  been  already  s£{  aside.  It  is  neces- 
sary that  in  its  place  should  be  a  '  national  assembly  ' 
charged  with  the  defence  of  the  popular  interest. 

Vainly  did  Hannart.  the  Spanish  envoy  of  Charles, 
supported  by  the  adherents  of  Rome  and  of  the  Em- 
peror, oppose  the  suggestion  ;  the  majority  of  the  Diet 
were  unshaken,  h  was  arranged  that  a  diet  or  se- 
cular assembly  should  meet  in  November  at  Spires, 
to  regulate  all  questions  of  religion,  and  that  the 
States  should  invite  their  divines  to  prepare  a  list  of 


•  Wolle  sich  des  Wortes  Gottes  halten.    (SeckeniC 
f  Quantum  eis  possibite  sit  ...  (CccbJLp.  84.) 


13.) 


ALARM  OF  THE  POPE— CONFERENCE  AT  RATISBON— SUBTLE  DEVICES.      269 


controverted  points  to  be  laid  before  that  august  as- 
sembly. 

No  time  was  lost.  Each  province  prepared  its 
memorial,  and  never  had  Rome  reason  to  apprehend  so 
great  an  explosion.  Franconia,  Brandenburg,  Henne- 
berg,  Windsheim,  Wertheim,  Nuremberg,  declared  for 
the  truth  of  the  Gospel  as  opposed  to  the  seven  sacra- 
ments, the  corruptions  of  the  mass,  the  worship  of  the 
saints,  and  the  Pope's  supremacy.  "  There  is  coin 
for  you  of  the  genuine  stamp,"  said  Luther.  Not  one 
of  the  questions  which  engaged  the  popular  mind 
seemed  likely  to  be  passed  over  in  silence,  in  that 
council  of  the  nation.  The  majority  would  make  a 
stand  for  general  measures.  The  unity  of  Germany,  its 
independence,  and  its  reformation,  would  yet  be  safe  ! 

When  news  of  what  was  passing  reached  the  Pope, 
he  could  not  restrain  his  anger.  What !  do  any  pre- 
sume to  set  up  a  secular  tribunal  to  decide  questions 
of  religion  in  contempt  of  his  authority  1*  If  this  un- 
precedented step  be  taken,  doubtless  Germany  will  be 
saved — but  Rome  is  ruined  !  A  consistory  was  has- 
tily called  together,  and  one  who  watched  the  dismay 
of  the  senators  might  have  thought  the  Germans  were 
in  full  march  upon  the  Capital.  "  As  to  the  Elector 
Frederic,"  exclaimed  Aleander,  "  we  must  take  off  his 
head  ;"  and  another  Cardinal  gave  counsel  that  the 
kings  of  England  and  of  Spain  should  overawe  the 
free  cities  by  threatening  to  break  off  all  commercial 
intercourse  with  them.  In  conclusion,  the  consistory 
came  to  the  decision,  that  the  only  way  of  safety  lay  in 
moving  heaven  and  earth  to  prevent  the  proposed  as- 
sembly at  Spires. 

The  Pope  wrote  directly  to  the  Emperor : — "  If  I 
am  called  to  be  foremost  in  making  head  against  the 
storm,  it  is  not  because  I  am  the  only  one  threatened 
by  the  tempest,  but  because  I  am  at  the  helm.  The 
imperial  authority  is  yet  more  invaded  than  even  the 
dignity  of  the  court  of  Rome." 

While  the  Pope  was  sending  this  letter  to  Castile, 
he  was  seeking  to  strengthen  himself  by  alliances  in 
Germany.  1 1  was  not  long  before  he  gained  over  one  of 
the  most  powerful  reigning  families  of  the  Empire,  the 
Dukes  of  Bavaria.  The  edict  of  Worms  had  been  as 
much  a  dead  letter  there  as  elsewhere  ;  and  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Gospel  had  made  its  way  extensively. 
But,  subsequent  to  the  close  of  1521,  the  princes  of 
that  country,  urged  on  by  Doctor  Eck,  who  was 
chancellor  in  their  university  of  Ingolstadt,  had  again 
made  advances  toward  Rome,  and  passed  a  law  enjoin- 
ing their  subjects  to  adhere  faithfully  to  the  religion  of 
their  forefathers.! 

The  Bavarian  bishops  showed  some  signs  of  alarm 
at  this  intervention  of  the  secular  authority.  Eck  set 
out  immediately  for  Rome  to  solicit  from  the  Pope  an 
extension  of  the  authority  lodged  in  the  princes.  The 
Pope  granted  all  their  desires,  and  even  went  so  far  as 
to  make  over  to  them  a  fifth  of  the  revenues  of  the 
church  in  their  country. 

Here  we  see  Roman  Catholicism,  at  a  time  when 
the  Reformation  had  no  regular  settlement,  resorting 
to  established  institutions  for  support,  and  Catholic 
princes,  aided  by  the  Pope,  seizing  the  revenues  of 
the  Church  long  before  the  Reformation  had  ventured 
to  touch  them.  What  then  must  be  thought  of  the 
oft-repeated  charges  of  Catholics  on  this  head  1 

Clement  VII.  was  secure  of  the  assistance  of  Ba- 
varia in  quelling  the  dreaded  assembly  of  Spires.  It 
was  not  long  before  the  Archduke  Ferdinand,  the 

»  Pontifex  aegerrime  tulit intelligens  novum  de  religi. 

one  tribunal  eo  pacto  excitari  citra  ipsius  auctoritatem.  (Pal- 
lav,  i.  p.  1S2.) 

t  Erstes  baierisches  Religions  Mandat  (Winter,  Gesch. 
dea  Evang.  Lehre  in  Baiern,  i.  p.  310.) 


Archbishop  of  Salzburg,  and  others  of  the  princes,  were 
likewise  gained  over. 

But  Campeggio  was  bent  on  something  more.  His 
aim  was  to  divide  Germany  into  two  hostile  camps — 
Germans  were  to  be  opposed  to  Germans. 

During  a  previous  residence  at  Stutgard,  the  Legate 
had  concerted  with  Ferdinand  the  project  of  a  league 
against  the  Reformation.  "  There  is  no  telling  what 
may  be  the  result  of  an  assembly  in  which  the  voice 
of  the  people  will  be  heard,"  observed  he  :  "  The  diet 
of  Spires  may  be  the  ruin  of  Rome  and  the  salvation 
of  Wittemberg.  Let  us  close  our  ranks  and  be  pre- 
pared for  the  onset."*  It  was  settled  that  Ratisbon 
should  be  the  point  of  rendezvous. 

Prevailing  over  the  jealousies  that  estranged  the 
reigning  houses  of  Bavaria  and  Austria,  Campeggio 
contrived  to  assemble  in  that  city,  toward  the  end  of 
1624,  the  Duke  of  Bavaria  and  the  Archduke  Ferdi- 
nand. The  Archbishop  of  Salzburg,  and  the  Bishops 
of  Trent  and  of  Ratisbon,  joined  them.  The  Bishops 
of  Spires,  Bamberg,  Augsburg,  Strasburg,  Bale,  Con- 
stance, Freesingen,  Passau,  and  Brixen,  sent  deputies 
to  the  assembly. 

The  Legate  opened  the  subject  of  the  meeting, 
depicting  in  moving  language  the  dangers  resulting 
from  the  Reformation  both  to  princes  and  the  clergv, 
and  concluded  by  calling  upon  them  to  extripate  heresy 
and  rescue  the  Church. 

For  fifteen  days  the  conferences  were  continued  in 
the  town-hall  of  Ratisbon.  At  the  expiration  of  that 
time,  a  ball,  which  continued  till  daybreak,  served  as 
a  relaxation  to  the  first  Catholic  assembly  convened  by 
the  Papacy  to  resist  the  infant  Reformation! — and, 
after  this,  measures  were  agreed  upon  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  heretics. 

The  Princes  and  Bishops  bound  themselves  to  en- 
force the  edicts  of  Worms  and  Nuremberg — to  allow 
of  no  innovations  in  public  worship — to  tolerate  no 
married  priest — to  recall  the  students  of  their  states 
who  might  be  resident  in  Wittemberg,  and  to  employ  all 
the  means  in  their  power  for  the  extirpation  of  heresy. 
They  enjoined  the  preachers  to  take  for  their  guides, 
in  interpreting  difficult  scriptures,  the  Latin  Fathers, 
Ambrose,  .Jerome,  Augustine,  and  Gregory.  Not 
daring,  in  the  face  of  the  Reformation,  to  invoke  again 
the  authority  of  the  Schools,  they  contented  themselves 
with  laying  the  foundations  of  Roman  orthodoxy. 

But,  not  able  to  close  their  eyes  against  the  scandals 
and  profligate  morals  of  the  clergy,f  they  agreed  on  a 
programme  of  reform  in  which  they  studiously  selected 
such  grievances  of  the  Germans  as  least  involved  or 
affected  the  court  of  Rome.  They  prohibited  priests 
from  dealings  in  the  way  of  barter,  from  frequenting 
taverns,  being  present  "  at  dances,"  and  disputing 
over  their  bottle  about  points  of  faith  ! 

This  was  the  issue  of  the  confederation  of  Ratisbon. $ 
In  the  very  act  of  taking  up  arms  against  the  Refor- 
mation, Rome  yet  conceded  a  something — and  we 
discern  in  these  regulations  the  earliest  influence  of 
the  Reformation,  in  inducing  an  interior  renovation  in 
Catholicism  itself.  Wherever  the  Gospel  develops 
its  resources,  its  enemies  are  sure  to  have  their  coun- 
terfeits at  hand.  Emser  had  produced  a  translation 
of  the  Bible  to  counteract  that  by  Luther.  Eck,  in 
like  manner,  put  forth  his  Loci  Communes  in  opposi- 
tion to  Melancthon'SjH — and  then  it  was  that  Rome 
began  to  oppose  to  the  Reformation  those  partial 

*  Winter,  Gesch.  der  Evang.  Lehre  in  Baiern,  i.  p.  156. 

t  Ranke,  Deutsche  Gesch.  ii.  p.  169. 

\  Improbis  clericorum  abusibus  et  perditis  moribus.  (Cochl. 
p.  91.) 

§  Ut  Lutherunae  faction!  efficacius  resistere  possint,  ultro- 
nea  confederatione  sese  constrixerunt.  (Ibid.) 

U  Enchiridion,  sen  loci  communes  contra  htereticos. 


270 


THE  EMPEROR'S  EDICT— MARTYRDOM  OF  GASPARD  TAUBER. 


changes  which  have  given  to  Roman  Catholicism  its 
present  aspect.  But,  in  truth,  these  expedients  were 
but  subtle  devices  to  escape  impending  dangers. 
Branches,  plucked  indeed  from  the  tree  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, but  set  in  a  soil  which  doomed  them  to  decay : 
the  principle  of  life  was  wanting,  and  thus  it  will  ever 
be  with  all  similar  attempts. 

Another  fact  is  here  presented  to  us.  The  Roman- 
ist party,  by  the  league  which  they  formed  at  Ratisbon, 
were  the  first  to  violate  the  unity  of  Germany.  It 
was  in  the  Pope's  camp  that  the  signal  of  battle  was 
given.  Ratisbon  was  the  birth-place  of  that  schism 
and  political  rending  of  their  country  which  so  many 
of  the  Germans  to  this  hour  deplore.  The  national 
assembly  of  Spires  was  called  to  insure  the  unity  of 
the  Empire  by  sanctioning  and  extending  the  Refor- 
mation of  the  Church.  The  conventicle  of  separatists 
that  met  at  Ratisbon  for  ever  divided  the  nation  in  two 
parties.*  Yet  the  schemes  of  Campeggio  were  not  at 
first  attended  with  the  results  anticipated.  But  few 
of  the  chiefs  responded  to  the  call.  The  most  decided 
opponents  of  Luther,  Duke  George,  of  Saxony,  the 
elector  Joachim,  of  Brandenburg,  the  ecclesiastical 
Electors,  and  the  imperial  cities,  declined  taking  any 
part.  An  opinion  prevailed  that  the  Pope's  legate 
was  forming  a  Romanist  faction  opposed  to  the  nation- 
al mind.  The  popular  sympathies  counterbalanced 
the  antipathies  of  religion  ;  and  it  was  not  long  before 
the  Ratisbon  Reformation  was  an  object  of  public 
ridicule.  But  a  first  step  had  been  taken— an  exam- 
ple had  been  set.  It  was  expected  that,  with  a  little 
pains,  it  would  be  easy  eventually  to  confirm  and  en- 
large this  Roman  league.  Those  who  then  hesitated 
would  be  decided  by  the  course  of  events.  To  the 
legate,  Campeggio,  is  ascribed  the  glory  of  having  laid 
the  train  which  was  to  bring  little  less  than  destruction 
upon  the  liberties  of  Germany,  and  the  safety  of  the 
Empire  and  the  Reformation.  From  that  hour  the 
cause  of  Luther  was  no  longer  of  a  nature  purely  re- 
ligious ;  and  the  contest  with  the  Witternberg  monk 
ranked  among  the  political  events  of  Europe.  Luther, 
in  this  new  sphere,  would  pass  under  eclipse,  and 
Charles  V.,  the  Pope,  and  the  reigning  Princes,  would 
be  the  chief  actors  on  the  stage  where  the  grand  drama 
of  the  sixteenth  century  was  to  be  performed. 

But  the  prospect  of  the  assembly  at  Spires  was  con- 
tinually present  to  the  minds  of  the  people.  Its  mea- 
sures might  remedy  the  mischiefs  that  Campeggio  had 
occasioned  at  Ratisbon.  Accordingly,  Rome  strained 
every  nerve  to  prevent  its  assembling.  "  What !" 
exclaimed  the  Pope's  deputies  to  Charles  V.,  as  also 
to  his  ally,  Henry  VIIL,  and  other  princes,  "  will  these 
presumptuous  Germans  pretend  to  decide  points  of 
faith  in  the  national  assembly  1  They  seem  to  expect 
that  kings,  the  imperial  authority,  all  Christendom,  and 
the  whole  world,  are  to  bend  to  their  decisions." 

The  moment  was  not  ill-chosen  for  influencing  the 
Emperor.  The  war  between  that  prince  and  Francis 
the  First  was  at  its  height.  Pescarra  and  the  Consta- 
ble of  Bourbon  had  left  Italy,  and  entering  France  in 
the  month  of  May,  laid  siege  to  Marseilles.  The 
Pope,  who  looked  with  an  evil  eye  on  this  attack,  might 
effect  a  powerful  diversion  in  the  rear  of  the  Imperial 
forces.  Charles,  who,  under  these  circumstances, 
must  have  feared  to  give  umbrage  to  his  Holiness,  did 
not  hesitate  to  sacrifice  the  independence  of  the  Em- 
pire, that  he  might  purchase  the  favour  of  Rome,  and 
humble  his  rival,  the  king  of  France. 

On  the  15th  July,  Charles  issued  an  edict,  dated  at 
Burgos,  in  Castile,  "  in  which  he  haughtily  and  angri- 
ly declared,  that  to  the  Pope  alone  belonged  the  right 
to  convoke  a  Council,  and  to  the  Emperor  that  of  de- 
•  Banke  Deutsche  Gesch.  ii.  p.  163. 


manding  one  ;  that  the  meeting  appointed  to  be  held 
at  Spires  neithei  ought  to  be,  nor  could  be  allowed : 
that  it  was  strange  that  the  German  people  should  un- 
dertake to  do  that,  which  all  the  nations  of  the  earth, 
with  the  Pope  at  their  head,  could  not  lawfully  do : 
and  that  it  was  necessary,  without  delay,  to  parry  into 
effect  the  decree  of  Worms  against  the  modern  Ma- 
homet." 

Thus  it  was  from  Spain  and  Italy  the  blow  was 
struck  which  arrested  the  development  of  the  Gospel 
among  the  people  of  Germany.  Charles  was  not  sa- 
tisfied with  this.  In  1519  he  had  offered  to  duke  John, 
the  Elector's  brother,  to  give  his  sister,  the  Archduchess 
Catharine,  in  marriage  to  his  son,  John  Frederic,  heir 
to  the  electorate.  But  was  not  that  reigning  house 
of  Saxony  the  grand  support  of  those  principles  of  re- 
ligious and  political  independence  which  Charles  de- 
tested 1  He  decided  to  break  off  all  intercourse  with 
the  troublesome  and  guilty  champion  of  Gospel  prin- 
ciples and  the  nation's  wishes — and  accordingly  gave 
his  sister  in  marriage  to  John  III.,  king  of  Portugal. 
Frederic,  who  in  1519  had  manifested  some  indiffer- 
ence to  the  overtures  of  the  king  of  Spain,  was  enabled 
in  1524,  to  suppress  his  indignation  at  this  conduct  of 
the  Emperor.  But  Duke  John  hanghtily  intimated  his 
feeling  of  the  affront  put  upon  him. 

Thus,  an  observer  might  have  distinguished,  as  they 
fell  slowly  into  the  line,  the  rival  hosts  by  whose  strug- 
gle for  mastery  the  Empire  was  to  be  so  long  convul- 

d. 

The  Romanists  went  a  step  further.  The  compact 
of  Ratisbon  was  to  be  no  empty  form  ;  it  was  neces- 
sary that  it  should  be  sealed  with  blood.  Ferdinand 
and  Campeggio  descended  the  Danube  from  Ratisboo 
to  Vienna,  and,  during  their  journey,  mutually  pledged 
themselves  to  cruel  measures.  Instantly  a  persecu- 
tion was  set  on  foot  in  the  Austrian  provinces. 

A  citizen  of  Vienna,  by  name  Gaspard  Tauber,  had 
circulated  Luther's  writings,  and  had  himself  written 
against  the  invocation  of  saints,  purgatory,  and  tran- 
substantiation.*  Being  thrown  into  prison,  he  was 
required  by  his  judges,  both  divines  and  jurisconsults, 
to  retract  his  errors.  It  was  believed  that  he  had  given 
way,  and  every  preparation  was  made  in  Vienna  to 
gratify  the  populace  with  the  solemn  spectacle  of  hia 
recantation.  On  St.  Mary's  day,  two  pulpits  wero 
erected  over  the  cemetery  of  St.  Stephen's,  the  one  for 
the  leader  of  the  choir,  whose  office  was  to  chaunt  tho 
heretic's  repentance,  the  other  for  Tauber  himself. 
The  formula  of  his  recantation  was  put  into  his  hands. f 
The  people,  the  choristers,  and  the  priests,  were  in  si- 
lent expectation.  Whether  it  was  that  Tauber  had 
given  no  promise  to  recant,  or  whether,  in  the  appoint- 
ed moment  of  abjuration,  he  suddenly  received  fresh 
energy  of  faith — he  exclaimed  aloud,  "•  I  am  not  con- 
vinced, and  I  appeal  to  the  holy  Roman  Empire." 
Ecclesiastics,  choristers,  and  by-standers,  were  struck 
with  astonishment  and  dismay.  But  Tauber  continued 
calling  for  death  rather  than  that  he  should  deny  the 
Gospel.  He  was  beheaded — his  body  burned  :t  and 
his  firmness  left  an  indelible  impression  on  the  memory 
of  the  citizens  of  Vienna. 

At  Buda,  in  Hungary,  a  bookseller,  named  John, 
who  had  received  the  truth  in  the  love  of  it,  had  dis- 
tributed copies  of  the  New  Testament,  and  also  some 
of  Luther's  writings.  The  persecutors  bound  him  to 
a  stake,  and  then  forming  a  pile  of  his  books,  so  as  to 
enclose  him  within  them,  set  fire  to  the  whole.  The 

*  Atque  etiam  proprios  ipse  tractatus  perscripserim.    (Coch- 
Iseus,  p.  92,  verso.) 

f  See  Cochl.,  Ib.  Cum  igitur  ego  Casparus  Tauber,  etc. 

*  Credo  te  vidisse  Casparis  Tauber  historian  martyrig  no^i 
Viennae,  quern  csesum  capite  scribunt  et  igne  exustum  pro 
verbo  Dei.    (Luther  to  Hausmann,  12  Nov.  1524,  ii.  p.  563.) 


CRUELTIES  IN  WURTEMBERG — FANATICISM  IN  HOLSTEIN. 


271 


poor  man  manifested  an  unshaken  courage,  rejoicing, 
amidst  the  flames,  that  he  was  counted  worthy  to  suffer 
for  his  Lord's  name.  "  Blood  follows  blood,"  cried 
Luther,  when  he  heard  of  this  martyrdom,*  "  but  that 
innocent  blood  that  Rome  delights  to  shed,  will  one 
day  choke  the  Pope,  with  his  kings  and  their  king- 
doms.'^ 

The  zeal  of  the  fanatics  burnt  every  day  more  fierce- 
ly. Gospel  preachers  were  expelled,  magistrates  ban- 
ished, and  sometimes  the  most  horrible  torments  were 
inflicted.  In  Wurtemberg  an  inquisitor,  named  Reich- 
ler,  caused  the  Lutherans,  especially  their  preachers, 
to  be  hanged  upon  the  trees.  Monsters  were  found, 
who  deliberately  nailed  by  their  tongues  to  the  stake 
the  ministers  of  God's  word — so  that  the  sufferers, 
tearing  themselves  in  their  agony  from  the  wood  to 
which  they  were  fastened,  endured  a  frightful  mutila- 
tion in  their  efforts  to  liberate  themselves — and  were 
thus  deprived  of  that  gift  of  speech  which  they  had 
long  used  in  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel. {: 

The  same  persecutions  were  set  on  foot  in  the  other 
states  of  the  Catholic  League.  In  the  neighbourhood 
of  Salzburg,  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  who  had  been 
sentenced  to  imprisonment  for  life,  was  on  his  way  to 
the  prison  :  while  the  constables  who  had  charge  of  him 
were  stopping  to  drink  at  a  house  by  the  wayside,  two 
country  youths,  moved  with  compassion,  contrived,  by 
eluding  their  vigilance,  to  favour  the  escape  of  the 
pastor.  The  rage  of  the  Archbishop  broke  forth  against 
these  poor  people,  and  without  so  much  as  any  form  of 
trial,  he  commanded  that  they  should  be  beheaded. 
They  were  secretly  taken  outside  the  town,  at  an  early 
hour.  Coming  to  the  plain  where  they  were  to  die, 
the  executioner's  heart  failed  him  : — "  For,"  said  he, 
"  they  have  not  been  condemned."  "  Do  your  duty," 
said  the  Archbishop's  emissary,  sternly,  "  and  leave  to 
the  Prince  to  answer  for  it :" — and  the  heads  of  the 
youths  were  immediately  struck  off.§ 

The  persecution  raged  with  most  violence  in  the 
states  of  the  Duke  of  Bavaria.  Priests  were  degraded  ; 
nobles  expelled  from  their  castles  ;  spies  traversed  the 
country  ;  and  suspicion  and  terror  filled  the  hearts  of 
all.  Bernard  Fichtel,  a  magistrate,  was  on  his  way  to 
Nuremberg,  called  thither  by  the  Duke's  affairs  ;  on 
the  road,  he  was  joined  by  Francis  Bourkard,  a  profes- 
sor, from  Ingolstadt,  and  a  friend  of  Eck.  Bourkard 
accosted  him,  and  they  travelled  in  company.  After 
supping  together,  the  professor  began  to  speak  on  mat- 
ters of  religion.  Fichtel  having  some  knowledge  of 
his  company,  reminded  him  that  the  recent  edict  pro- 
hibited such  topics  of  conversation.  "  Between  us," 
answered  Bourkard,  "  there  is  nothing  to  fear."  On 
this  Fichtel  remarked,  "  I  don't  think  the  edict  can  be 
enforced  ;"  and  he  went  on  to  express  himself  in  a 
tone  of  doubt  respecting  purgatory,  observing,  "  that 
it  was  a  dreadful  thing  to  visit  religious  differences 
with  death."  At  hearing  this,  Bourkard  could  not 
control  himself.  "  What  more  just,"  exclaimed  he, 
"  than  to  strike  on  the  heads  of  all  those  scoundrel 
Lutherans  !"  He  soon  took  a  kind  leave  of  Fichtel  ; — 
but  hastened  to  lodge  information  against  him.  Fichtel 
was  thrown  into  prison,  and  the  unhappy  man,  who 
had  no  desire  of  the  martyr's  crown — his  religious  con- 
victions not  being  at  all  deep — escaped  death  only  by 
a  shameful  recantation.  Confidence  was  at  an  end  ; 
and  no  one  was  safe. 

But  that  death  which  Fichtel  avoided,  others  met. 

*  Idem  accidit  Bndae  inUngariabibliopolae  cuidam  Johanni, 
citnul  cum  libris  ciroaeum  positis  exusto,  fortissimeque  passo 
pro  Domino.  (Ibid.) 

)  Sangtiis  sanguinem  tangit,  qui  suffocabit  papam  cum  re- 
gibus  et  regnis  suis.  (Ibid.) 

J  Ranke,  Deutsche  Gesch.  ii.  p.  174. 

£  Zauner,  Salzburger  Chronik  IV.  p.  381. 


It  was  in  vain  that  the  Gospel  was  not  only  privately 
preached.*  The  Duke  urged  on  its  pursuers  ;  follow- 
ing it  even  in  the  darkness,  in  secret  places,  in  private 
dwellings,  and  mountain  recesses. 

*'  The  cross  and  persecution  are  in  full  career  in 
Bavaria,"  said  Luther  :  "  those  wild  beasts  are  carry- 
ing all  before  them."f 

Even  the  north  of  Germany  was  not  exempted  from 
these  atrocities.  Bogislas,  Duke  of  Pomerania,  dying, 
his  son,  who  had  been  brought  up  in  the  court  of  Duke 
George,  set  on  foot  a  persecution  of  the  Gospel.  Sua- 
ven  and  Knipstrow  were  compelled  to  seek  refuge  in 
flight. 

But  it  was  in  Holstein,  that  one  of  the  most  me- 
morable instances  of  fanaticism  occurred. 

Henry  Zuphten,  who,  as  has  been  seen,  had  escaped 
from  the  convent  at  Antwerp,  was  engaged  in  preach- 
ing the  Gospel  at  Bremen.  Nicholas  Boye,  pastor  at 
Mehldorf,  in  the  country  of  the  Dittmarches,  and  sev- 
eral devout  persons  of  the  neighbouring  districts,  hav- 
ing invited  him  to  come  over  and  declare  Jesus  Christ ; 
he  complied.  Immediately,  the  prior  of  the  Domini- 
cans and  the  vicar  of  the  official  of  Hamburg  concerted 
measures.  "  If  he  is  allowed  to  preach,  and  the  people 
give  ear,"  said  they,  "  we  are  undone."  The  prior 
passed  a  disturbed  night ;  and,  rising  early  in  the 
morning,  repaired  to  the  wild  and  barren  heath  on 
which  the  forty-eight  regents  of  the  country  are  ac- 
customed to  hold  their  meetings.  "  The  monk  from 
Bremen  is  come  amongst  us,"  said  he,  addressing  them, 
"  and  will  bring  ruin  on  the  Dittmarches."  Those 
forty-eight  simple-minded  and  unlearned  men,  deceived 
into  the  belief  that  they  would  earn  imperishable  renown 
by  delivering  the  world  from  the  heretical  monk,  decided 
on  putting  him  to  death  without  so  much  as  giving  him 
a  hearing. 

It  was  Saturday — and  the  prior  was  bent  on  prevent- 
ing Henry's  preaching  on  the  following  Sunday.  In 
the  middle  of  the  night  he  knocked  at  the  door  of  the 
pastor,  Boye,  armed  with  the  mandate  of  the  forty-eight 
regents.  "  If  it  be  the  will  of  God  that  I  should  die 
among  the  Dittmarches,"  said  Henry  Zuphten  ;  "  Hea- 
ven is  as  easily  reached  from  thence  as  from  anywhere 
else.t  I  will  preach." 

He  ascended  the  pulpit,  and  spoke  with  earnestness. 
His  hearers,  moved  and  roused  by  his  Christian  elo- 
quence, had  scarcely  quitted  the  church,  when  the 
prior  delivered  to  them  the  mandate  of  the  forty-eight 
regents  forbidding  the  monk  to  preach.  They  imme- 
diately sent  a  deputation  to  the  heath,  and  the  Dittmar- 
ches, after  long  discussion,  agreed  that,  considering 
their  total  ignorance,  further  measures  should  be  de- 
ferred till  Easter.  But  the  prior,  irritated  at  this,  ap- 
proached certain  of  the  regents,  and  stirred  up  their 
zeal  afresh.  "  We  will  write  to  him,"  said  they. 
Have  nothing  to  do  with  him,"  replied  the  prior ;  *'  if 
he  begins  to  speak,  we  shall  not  be  able  to  withstand 
him.  We  must  seize  him  during  the  night,  and  burn 
him  without  giving  him  time  to  open  his  lips." 

Everything  was  arranged  accordingly.  The  day 
after  Conception  day,  at  nightfall,  Ave  Maria  was  rung. 
At  the  signal,  all  the  peasants  of  the  adjacent  villages 
assembled,  to  the  number  of  five  hundred,  and  their 
leaders  having  broached  three  butts  of  Hamburg  beer, 
by  this  means  stimulated  their  resolution.  The  hour 
of  midnight  struck  as  the  party  entered  Mehldorf;  the 
peasants  were  under  arms  ;  the  monks  carried  torches ; 
ill  went  forward  in  disorder,  exchanging  shouts  of 
ury.  Arrived  at  the  village,  there  was  a  deep  silence 

*  Verbi  non  palam  seminati.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  659.) 
i  In  Bavaria  multum  regnat  crux  et  persecutio  ....  (Ibid.) 
j  Der  Himmel  ware  da  so  nahe  als  andersvvo.    (L.  Opp.  xix. 
330.) 


272 


THE  PRIOR  AND  THE  REGENTS— MARTYRDOM  OF  H.  ZUPHTEN. 


lest  Henry,  receiving  intimation  of  danger,  should 
effect  his  escape. 

Of  a  sudden,  the  gates  of  the  parsonage  were  burst 
open — the  drunken  peasantry  rushed  within,  striking 
everything  in  their  way — tossing,  pell-mell,  dishes, 
kettles,  cups,  and  articles  of  apparel.  They  seized  any 
money  that  they  could  find,  and  then  rushing  fcn  the 
poor  pastor,  they  struck  him  down,  shouting,  "  Kill 
him !  kill  him  !"  and  then  threw  him  into  the  mud. 
But  Henry  was  their  chief  object  in  the  attack.  They 
pulled  him  out  of  bed,  tied  his  hands  behind  him,  and 
dragged  him  after  them,  naked  as  he  was,  in  the  pierc- 
ing cold.  "  What  are  you  come  here  for  1"  cried  they  ; 
and  as  Henry  answered  meekly,  they  exclaimed, 
"  Down  with  him !  down  with  him  !  if  we  listen  to 
him  we  shall  become  heretics  like  himself."  They 
had  dragged  him  naked  over  ice  and  snow,  his  feet 
were  bleeding  profusely,  and  he  begged  to  be  set  on 
horseback.  "  A  fine  thing  truly,"  said  they,  "  for  us 
to  furnish  horses  for  heretics  !  On,  on" — and  they 
continued  dragging  him  behind  them  till  they  arrived 
at  the  heath.  A  woman,  who  stood  at  the  door  of  the 
house  just  as  the  servant  of  God  was  passing,  burst 
into  tears.  "  My  good  woman,"  said  Henry,  "  weep 
not  for  me."  The  bailiff  pronounced  his  sentence. 
Then  one  of  his  ferocious  escort,  with  a  sword,  smote 
the  preacher  of  Jesus  Christ  on  the  head.  Another 
struck  him  with  a  club.  A  monk  was  ordered  to  ap- 
proach, and  receive  his  confession.  "  My  brother," 
said  Henry,  "  have  I  done  you,  any  wrong  1"  "  None," 
replied  the  monk.  "  Then,"  returned  Henry,  "  I  have 
nothing  to  confess  to  you,  and  you  have  nothing  to  for- 
give." The  monk  retired  in  confusion.  Many  at- 
tempts were  made  to  set  fire  to  the  pile  ;  but  the  wood 
would  not  catch.  For  two  hours  the  martyr  stood 
thus  in  presence  of  the  infuriated  peasantry — calm, 
and  lifting  his  eyes  to  heaven.  While  they  were  bind- 
ing him,  that  they  might  cast  him  into  the  flame,  he 
began  to  confess  his  faith.  "  First  burn,"  said  a  coun- 
tryman, dealing  him  a  blow  with  his  fist  on  the  mouth  ; 
"  burn  ;  and  after  that,  speak."  They  threw  him  on 
the  pile,  but  he  rolled  down  on  one  side.  John  Holme, 
seizing  a  club,  struck  him  upon  the  breast,  and  laid 
him  dead  upon  the  burning  coals.  "Such  is  the  true 
story  of  the  sufferings  of  that  holy  martyr,  Henry 
Zuphten."* 

While  the  Romanists  were,  on  all  sides,  unsheath- 
ing the  sword  against  the  Reformation,  the  work  itself 
•was  passing  through  new  stages  of  development.  Not 
to  Zurich — nor  Geneva,  but  to  Wittemberg,  the  focus 
of  Luther's  revival,  must  we  go  to  find  the  beginnings 
of  that  Reformed  Church,  of  which  Calvin  ranks  as  the 
most  distinguished  doctor:  There  was  a  time  when 
these  two  great  families  of  believers  slept  in  the  same 
cradle.  Concord  ought  to  have  crowned  their  matured 
age  ;  but  when  once  the  question  of  the  Supper  was 
raised,  Luther  threw  away  the  proper  element  of  the 
Reformation,  and  took  his  stand  for  himself  and  his 
church  in  an  exclusive  Lutheranism.  The  mortifica- 
tion he  experienced  from  this  rival  teaching  was  shown 
in  his  loss  of  much  of  that  kindness  of  manner  which 
was  so  natural  to  him,  and  communicated,  in  its  stead, 
a  mistrust,  an  habitual  dissatisfaction,  and  an  irritability 
which  he  had  never  before  manifested. 

It  was  between  the  two  early  friends — the  two  cham- 
pions who,  at  Leipsic,  had  fought  side  by  side  against 
Rome — between  Carlstadt  and  Luther  that  the  contro- 
versy broke  forth.  Their  attachment  to  contrary  views 
was  the  result,  with  each  of  them,  of  a  turn  of  mind 
that  has  its  value.  Indeed,  there  are  two  extremes 
in  religious  views ;  the  one  tends  to  materialize  all 

*  Das  ist  die  wahre  Historic,  etc.  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xix.  p. 
833.) 


things;  the  other,  to  spiritualize  everything.  The  for- 
mer characterized  Rome ;  the  latter  is  seen  in  the 
Mystics.  Religion  resembles  man  himself  in  this — 
namely,  that  it  consists  of  a  body  and  a  soul ;  pure 
idealists,  equally  with  materialists  in  questions  of  reli- 
gion, as  of  philosophy — both  err. 

This  was  the  great  question  which  lay  hid  in  the 
dispute  concerning  the  Supper.  While  a  superficial 
observer  sees  in  it  nothing  but  a  paltry  strife  about 
words,  a  deeper  observation  discerns  in  it  one  of  the 
most  important  controversies  that  can  engage  the  mind 
of  man. 

Here  the  Reformers  diverge,  and  form  two  camps  ; 
but  each  camp  carries  away  a  portion  of  the  truth.  Lu- 
ther, with  his  adherents,  think  they  are  resisting  an 
exaggerated  spiritualism.  Carlstadt  and  those  of  the 
reformed  opinion,  believe  they  are  opposing  a  detesta- 
ble materialism.  Each  turns  against  the  error  which, 
to  his  mind,  seems  most  noxious,  and,  in  assailing  it, 
goes — it  may  be — beyond  the  truth.  But  this  being 
admitted,  it  is  still  true  that  both  are  right  in  the  pre- 
vailing turn  of  their  thoughts,  and  though  ranking  in 
different  hosts,  the  two  great  teachers  are  nevertheless 
found  under  the  same  standard — that  of  Jesus  Christ, 
who  alone  is  TRUTH,  in  the  full  import  of  that  word. 

Carlstadt  was  of  opinion  that  nothing  could  be  more 
prejudicial  to  genuine  piety  than  to  lean  upon  outward 
observances,  and  a  sort  of  mysterious  efficacy  in  the 
sacraments.  "  The  outward  participation  in  the  Sup- 
per brings  Salvation,"  had  been  the  language  of  Rome ; 
and  that  doctrine  had  sufficed  to  materialize  religion. 
Carlstadt  saw  no  better  course  for  again  exalting  its 
spiritual  character  than  to  deny  all  presence  of  Christ's 
body ;  and  he  taught  that  the  Supper  was  simply  a 
pledge  to  believers  of  their  redemption. 

As  to  Luther,  he  now  took  an  exactly  opposite  direc- 
tion. He  had  at  first  contended  for  the  sense  we  have 
endeavoured  to  open.  In  his  tract  on  the  Mass,  pub- 
lished in  1520,  he  thus  expressed  himself: — "I  can 
every  day  enjoy  the  advantages  of  the  Sacraments,  if 
I  do  but  call  to  mind  the  word  and  promise  of  Christ, 
and  with  them  feed  and  strengthen  my  faith."  Neither 
Carlstadt,  nor  Zwingle,  nor  Calvin,  have  said  anything 
more  strong  than  this.  It  appears,  indeed,  that  at  that 
period,  the  thought  would  often  occur  to  him,  that  a 
symbolical  explanation  of  the  Supper  would  be  the 
mightiest  engine  to  overturn  the  Papal  system  ;  for, 
in  1525,  we  find  him  saying,  that  five  years  before,  he 
had  gone  through  much  trial  of  mind  on  account  of 
this  doctrine  ;*  and  that  any  one,  who  could  then  have 
proved  to  him  that  there  is  only  the  bread  and  wine  in 
the  Supper  would  have  done  him  the  greatest  service. 

But  new  circumstances  arose,  and  threw  him  into  a 
position  in  which  he  was  led  to  oppose,  and  sometimes 
with  much  heat,  opinions  to  which  he  had  made  so 
near  an  approach.  The  fanaticism  of  the  Anabaptists 
may  account  for  the  turn  which  Luther  then  took. — 
These  enthusiasts  were  not  content  with  disparaging 
what  they  termed  the  outward  Word — that  is,  the  Bi- 
ble, and  setting  up  a  claim  to  special  communications 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  they  went  so  far  as  to  despise  the 
Sacrament  of  the  Supper  as  an  external  act,  and  to 
speak  of  the  inward  as  the  only  true  communion.  From 
that  time,  in  every  attempt  to  exhibit  the  symbolical 
import  of  the  Supper,  Luther  saw  only  the  danger  of 
weakening  the  authority  of  the  Scriptures,  and  of  ad 
mitting,  instead  of  their  true  meaning,  mere  arbitrary 
allegories  spiritualizing  all  religion,  and  making  it  con- 
sist, not  in  the  gifts  of  God,  but  in  man's  impressions  ; 
and,  by  this  means,  substituting,  in  place  of  genuine 
Christianity,  a  mystic  doctrine,  or  theosophy,  or  fana- 
*  Ich  habe  wohl  so  harte  Aiifechtungen  da  crhtten.  (L. 
Epp.  ii.  p.  577.) 


CARLSTADT— LUTHER  AT  JENA— LUTHER  AND  CARLSTADT. 


273 


ticism,  which  would  be  sure  to  be  its  grave.  It  must 
be  confessed,  that  but  for  the  energetic  resistance  of 
Luther,  this  tendency  to  mysticism  (enthusiastic  and 
subjective  in  its  character)  might  have  rapidly  extended 
itself,  and  turned  back  the  tide  of  blessings  which  the 
Reformation  was  to  pour  upon  the  world. 

Carlstadt,  impatient  at  finding  himself  hindered  from 
opening  his  views  without  reserve  in  Wittemberg  :  and 
having  no  rest  in  his  spirit,  from  his  desire  to  combat 
a  system  which,  in  his  view,  "  lowered  the  value  of 
Christ's  death,  and  set  aside  his  righteousness,"  re- 
solved "  to  give  a  public  testimony  for  the  advantage  of 
poor  deluded  Christians."  He  left  Wittemberg,  in  the 
beginning  of  the  year  1524,  without  previous  intima- 
tion of  his  intention  to  the  university  or  the  chapter, 
and  repaired  to  the  small  town  of  Orlamund,  the  church 
of  which  was  placed  under  his  superintendence.  Dis- 
missing the  vicar,  he  procured  himself  to  be  appointed 
its  pastor,  and,  in  opposition  to  the  wishes  of  the  chap- 
ter, of  the  university,  and  of  the  elector,  established 
himself  in  his  new  office. 

He  soon  began  to  disseminate  his  doctrines  :  "  It  is 
not  possible,"  said  he,  "  to  name  any  advantage  de- 
rived from  the  real  presence,  which  does  not  already 
flow  from  faith — it  is,  therefore,  useless."  To  explain 
Christ's  words  in  the  institution  of  the  Supper,  he  re- 
sorted to  an  interpretation  which  is  not  received  in  the 
Reformed  churches.  Luther,  during  the  discussion  at 
Leipsic,  had  explained  the  words — "  Thou  art  Peter, 
and  on  this  rock  I  will  build  my  church" — separating 
the  two  propositions,  and  applying  the  latter  to  the 
person  of  our  Saviour.  "  Just  so,"  said  Carlstadt, 
" '  take,  eat,1  was  spoken  in  reference  to  the  bread  ; 
but,  '  this  is  my  body,1  is  to  be  understood  of  Jesus 
Christ,  who  then  pointed  to  himself — and  intimated  by 
the  symbol  of  the  broken  bread,  that  the  body  was  about 
to  be  broken." 

Carlstadt  did  not  stop  there.  Scarce  had  he  eman- 
cipated himself  from  Luther's  oversight,  when  he  felt 
his  zeal  revive  against  the  use  of  images.  His  bold 
addresses  and  enthusiastic  appeals  were  but  too  likely 
to  madden  the  minds  of  men  in  these  agitated  times. 
The  people,  thinking  they  heard  a  second  Elijah,  pro- 
ceeded to  throw  down  the  idols  of  Baal.  The  excite- 
ment soon  spread  to  the  neighbouring  villages.  The 
Elector  interfered  ;  but  the  peasants  answered  that  it 
was  right  to  obey  God  rather  than  men.  On  this,  the 
prince  decided  to  despatch  Luther  to  Orlamnnd,  to  re- 
store tranquillity.  Luther  looked  upon  Carlstadt  as  a 
man  urged  on  by  a  love  of  notoriety  ;  *  a  fanatic,  who 
would  even  go  the  length  of  raising  war  against  Christ 
himself.  Perhaps  Frederic  might  have  made  a  wiser 
choice.  Luther,  however,  set  forth ;  and  Carlstadt 
saw  his  troublesome  rival  once  more  appear,  in  order 
to  baffle  his  projects  of  reform,  and  arrest  his  impe- 
tuosity. 

Jena  lay  in  the  road  to  Orlamund.  Arriving  in  that 
town  on  the  23d  of  August,  Luther  ascended  the  pul- 
pit on  the  24th,  at  seven  in  the  morning.  He  preached 
an  hour  and  a  half  to  a  numerous  auditory  against  fa- 
natics, rebels,  the  breakers  of  images,  and  the  despisers 
of  the  real  presence,  protesting  with  vehemence  against 
the  innovations  at  Orlamund.  He  did  not  refer  to 
Carlstadt  by  name,  but  everyone  understood  whom  he 
had  in  his  eye. 

Either  by  accident  or  design,  Carlstadt  was  then  at 
Jena,  and  among  the  crowd  of  Luther's  hearers.  He 
lost  no  time  in  calling  the  preacher  to/  account.  Lu- 
ther was  at  dinner  with  the  prior  of  Wittemberg,  the 
burgomaster,  the  secretary,  the  pastor  of  Jena,  and 
several  officers  in  the  service  of  the  Emperor,  and  of 

*  Hue  perpulit  cum  insana  gloriae  et  launis  libido.  (L.  Epp. 

a.  P.  551.) 

LI 


the  Margrave,  when  a  letter  was  handed  to  him  from 
Carlstadt,  requesting  an  interview.  He  passed  it  to 
:hose  near  him,  and  returned  a  message  by  the  bearer  : 
"  If  Doctor  Carlstadt  wishes  to  see  me,  let  him  come 
in  ; — if  not,  I  have  no  wish  to  see  him."  Carlstadt 
entered.  His  appearance  produced  a  lively  sensation 
in  the  whole  assembly.  The  majority,  eager  to  see 
the  two  lions  encounter  one  another,  suspended  their 
repast,  and  were  all  eyes,  while  the  more  timid  turned 
pale  with  apprehension. 

Carlstadt,  at  Luther's  invitation,  took  a  seat  opposite 
to  him,  and  then  said,  "  Doctor,  you  have,  in  your  ser- 
mon of  this  day,  classed  me  with  those  who  inculcate 
revolt  and  assassination.  I  declare  that  such  a  charge 
is  false." 

LUTHER- — "  I  did  not  name  you ;  but  since  the  cap 
fits,  you  may  wear  it." 

A  momentary  pause  ensued. — Carlstadt  resumed : 
"  I  am  prepared  to  show  that,  in  the  doctrine  of  the 
sacrament,  you  have  contradicted  yourself,  and,  that 
from  the  days  of  the  apostles,  no  one  has  preached  that 
doctrine  so  purely  as  I  have  done." 

LUTHER. — "  Write  then — establish  your  point." 

CARLSTADT. — "I  offer  you  a  public  discussion  at 
Wittemberg,  or  at  Erfurth,  if  you  promise  me  a  safe- 
conduct." 

LUTHER. — "  Never  fear,  Doctor  !" 

CARLSTADT. — "  You  bind  me  hand  and  foot,  and 
when  you  have  deprived  me  of  the  power  to  defend 
myself,  you  strike."* 

Silence  ensued. — Luther  resumed  : — 

"  Write  against  me — but  openly — and  not  in  se- 
cret." 

CARLSTADT. — "  If  I  were  but  assured  you  were  in 
earnest  in  what  you  say,  I  would  do  so." 

LUTHER. — "  Set  about  it ; — here — take  this  florin." 

CARLSTADT. — "  Where  is  it  ?      I  accept  the  chal- 


At  these  words,  Luther  thrust  his  hand  in  his  pocket, 
and  producing  a  gold  florin,  said,  as  he  gave  it  to  Carl- 
stadt, "  Take  it,  and  attack  me  like  a  man." 

Carlstadt,  holding  the  gold  florin  in  his  hand,  and 
turning  to  the  assembly,  said,  "  Dear  brethren,  this  is 
to  me  arabo,  a  pledge  that  I  have  authority  to  write 
against  Lnther;  I  call  you  all  to  witness  this." 

Then  bending  the  florin,  that  he  might  know  it  again, 
he  put  it  into  his  purse,  and  held  out  his  hand  to  Lu- 
ther. The  latter  pledged  him.  Carlstadt  returned 
his  civility.  "  The  more  vigorous  your  attacks,  the 
better  I  shall  like  them,"  resumed  Luther. 

"  If  I  fail,"  answered  Carlstadt,  "  the  fault  will  be 
mine." 

They  once  more  shook  each  other  by  the  hand,  and 
Carlstadt  returned  to  his  lodging. 

Thus,  says  an  historian,  as  from  a  single  spark  a  fire 
often  originates  which  consumes,  in  its  progress,  the 
vast  forest ;  so,  from  this  small  beginning,  a  great  divi- 
sion in  the  Church  took  its  rise.t 

Luther  set  forward  for  Orlamund,  and  arrived  there 
but  indifferently  prepared  by  the  scene  at  Jena.  He 
assembled  the  council  and  the  church,  and  said,  "  Nei- 
ther the  Elector  nor  the  University  will  acknowledge 
Carlstadt  as  your  pastor." — If  Carlstadt  is  not  our  pas- 
tor, replied  the  treasurer  of  the  town-council,  "  why 
then,  St.  Paul  is  a  false  teacher,  and  your  writings  are 
mere  falsehood — for  we  have  chosen  him."t 

*  Ihrbandet  mir  Hande  et  Fiisse,  darnach  schlugt  Jhr  mich 
(L.  Opp.  xix.  p.  150.) 

t  Sicut  una  scintilla  saepe  totam  sylvam  comburit.  (M. 
Adam,  Vit  Carlst.  p.  83.)  Our  account  is  chiefly  derived  from 
the  Jlcts  of  Reinhard,  pastor  of  Jena,  an  eye-witness—but  a 
friend  of  Carlstadt — and  taxed  with  inaccuracy  by  Luther. 

}.  How  remarkable  is  this  incident !  On  this  passage  the 
translator  had  made  a  note  which  he  will  here  insert  for  the 
confirmation  of  those  who,  though  only  '  two  or  three  'in  any 


274 


INTERVIEW  AT  ORLAMUND— ON  THE  WORSHIP  OF  IMAGES. 


As  he  said  this,  Carlstadt  entered  the  room.  Some 
of  those  who  happened  to  be  next  to  Luther,  made 
signs  to  him  to  be  seated,  but  Carlstadt,  going  straight 
up  to  Luther,  said,  "  Dear  Doctor,  if  you  will  allow 
me,  I  will  give  you  induction." 

LUTHER. — "  You  are  rny  antagonist.  I  have  fixed 
you  by  the  pledge  of  a  florin." 

CARLSTADT. — "  I  will  be  your  antagonist  so  long 
as  you  are  opposed  to  God  and  his  truth." 

LUTHER. — "  Leave  the  room ;  I  cannot  allow  of 
your  being  present." 

CARLSTADT. — "This  is  an  open  meeting — if  your 
cause  is  good,  why  fear  me  ?" 

LUTHER,  to  his  attendant: — "  Go — put  the  horses 
to  :  I  have  nothing  to  say  here  to  Carlstadt ;  and 
since  he  will  not  leave,  I  shall  go."*  Luther  rose 
from  his  seat,  upon  which  Carlstadt  withdrew. 

After  a  moment's  silence,  Luther  resumed : — "  Only 
prove  from  the  Scripture  that  it  is  our  duty  to  destroy 
images." 

ONE  OF  THE  TOWN  COUNCIL. — "Doctor,  you  will 
allow,  I  suppose,  that  Moses  was  acquainted  with 
God's  commandments."  This  said,  he  opened  his 
Bible.  "  Well,  here  are  his  words— '  Thou  shall  not 
make  to  thyself  any  graven  image,  nor  any  likeness,'  " 
&c. 

LUTHER. — "  The  passage  refers  only  to  images  for 
idolatrous  worship.  If  I  hang  up,  in  my  chamber  a 
crucifix,  and  do  not  worship  it ;  what  harm  can  it  do 
me?" 

A  SHOEMAKER. — "  I  have  often  touched  my  hat  be- 
fore an  image  which  was  in  my  room,  or  on  my  man- 
telpiece. It  is  an  act  of  idolatry  which  robs  God  of 
the  glory  due  to  Him  alone." 

LUTHER. — "  Would  you  think  it  necessary,  then, 
because  they  are  abused,  to  put  your  women  to  death, 
and  pour  your  wine  into  the  gutter."t 

ANOTHER  MEMBER  OF  THE  CHURCH. — "No:  they 
are  God's  creatures,  which  we  are  not  commanded  to 
destroy." 

The  conference  had  lasted  some  time.  Luther  and 
his  attendant  returned  to  their  carriage,  astonished  at 
the  scene  they  had  witnessed,  and  having  failed  to 
convince  the  inhabitants,  who  claimed  for  themselves 
the  right  of  interpreting  and  freely  expounding  the 

one  place,  are  acting  in  confidence  in  the  sufficiency  of  God 
and  the  word  of  His  grace '  to  '  build  them  up.' 

If  the  conference  had  been  really  carried  on  in  the  reve- 
rential sense  of  the  presence  of  the  Spirit,  (Acts  i.24;  Eph.  ii 
22,)  it  might  have  been  asked,  and  so  have  come  down  to  us 
on  what  passage  in  St.  Paul  these  persons  grounded  their 
choosing  of  their  pastor. 

But  would  not  the  recognition  of  His  presence  have  led  to 
the  acknowledgment  of  His  '  dividing '  gifts  to  the  mutually 
dependant  members,  (1  Cor.  xii.  25  ;  xiv.  31.)  'according  to 
His  own  will  ?'  (1  Cor.  xii.  11,)  and  so  have  prevented  the  as 
sertion  of  a  right  on  their  part  to  elect — much  less  to  elect  to 
exclusive  pastorship  ? 

Luther  was  a  brother,  and  one  not  meanly  gifted  for  service 
to  the  body  :— might  it  not  have  been  expected  that  Carlstad 
calling  to  mind  Romans  xii.  and  1  Cor.  xiv.  3,  31,  would  have 
welcomed  the  word  of  Luther  in  the  little  church  of  Orla 
mund — and  that  that  word  would  have  been  just  the  verj 
corrective,  or  rather  complement  needed  by  the  peculiarity  o 
Carlstadt's  teaching — for.  as  M.  D'Aubigne  has  observed,  thi 
turn  of  mind  of  each  had  its  value. 

Instead  of  this,  we  find  the  Great  Reformer  saying,  "  Thi 
Elector  and  the  University  will  not  acknowledge  Carlstad 
as  your  pastor  ;"  and  the  church  of  Orlamund  replying.  "  W 
have  chosen  him  :"— the  two  forms  of  disobedient  limiting  01 
the  teaching  of  the  Spirit,  with  which  Christians  have  becom 
so  familiar — and  which,  in  their  want  of  faith,  almost  all  ar 
helping  to  perpetuate. 

See  the  reflections  at  the  opening  of  the  Xlth  Book  of  thi 
history.  The  heart  that  is  exercised  by  these  things  shoul 
consider  John  xiv.  16,  26  ;  xvi.  7  ;  xvii.  21 ;  Acts  v.  3  ;  Rom 
viii.  9  ;  1  Cor.  xi.  2  ;  xiv.  37  ;  Eph.  iv.  16  ;  1  Th.  iv.  18  :  v 
11.  ;Heb.iii.  13. 

*  Spann  an,  spann  an.     (L.  Opp.  xix.  p.  154.) 

f  So  musg  du  des  Missbrauchs  halber  auch.    (Ibid.  p.  155. 


>cripture.  Agitation  reigned  in  Orlamund.  The 
eople  insulted  Luther ;  and  some  even  called  after 
im — "  Begone  !  in  the  name  of  all  the  devils  ;  and 
may  you  break  your  neck  before  you  are  out  of  our 
own."*  Never  had  the  Reformer  had  to  undergo 
uch  contemptuous  treatment. 

He  repaired  thence  to  Kale,  the  pastor  of  which 
lace  had  also  embraced  the  views  of  Carlstadt.  He 
esolved  to  preach  a  sermon  there ;  but  on  entering 
le  pulpit,  he  found  the  broken  fragments  of  a  crucih'x. 
U  first  his  emotion  overcame  him ;  but  recovering 
imself,  he  gathered  up  the  pieces  into  one  corner  of 
pulpit,  and  delivered  a  discourse  in  which  he  made 
o  allusion  to  the  circumstance.  "  I  determined," 
aid  he,  speaking  of  it  in  after  life,  "  to  revenge  myself 
n  the  devil  by  this  contempt  for  him." 

The  nearer  the  Elector's  life  drew  to  a  close,  the 
more  did  he  appear  to  dread  lest  men  should  go  too 
ar  in  the  work  of  Reformation.  He  issued  orders  to 
eprive  Carlstadt  of  his  appointments,  and  banished 
im,  not  only  from  Orlamund,  but  from  the  states  of 
le  Electorate.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  Church  of 
Orlamund  interceded  in  his  behalf — in  vain  did  they 
etition  that  he  might  be  permitted  to  reside  among 
hem  as  a  private  citizen,  with  leave  occasionally  to 
reach — in  vain  did  they  represent  that  the  word  of 
Grod  was  dearer  to  them  than  the  whole  world,  or  even 

thousand  worlds.!  Frederic  was  deaf  to  their  en- 
reaties,  and  he  even  went  the  length  of  refusing  the 
nhappy  Carlstadt  the  funds  necessarily  required  for 
is  journey.  Luther  had  nothing  to  do  with  this  stern- 
less  on  the  part  of  the  Prince :  it  was  foreign  to  his 
lisposition — and  this  he  afterward  proved.  But  Carl- 
tadt  looked  at  him  as  the  author  of  his  disgrace,  and 
illed  Germany  with  his  complaints  and  lamentations, 
ie  wrote  a  farewell  letter  to  his  friends  at  Orlamund. 
The  bells  were  tolled,  and  the  letter  read  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  sorrowing  Church.t  It  was  signed — 

Andrew  Bodenstein,  expelled  by  Luther,  unconvict- 
ed,  and  without  even  a  hearing." 

It  is  impossible  not  to  feel  a  pain  at  contemplating 
,hese  two  men,  once  friends,  and  both  worthy  of  our 
jsteem,  thus  angrily  opposed.  Sadness  took  posses- 
sion of  the  souls  of  the  disciples  of  the  Reformation. 
What  would  be  the  end  of  it,  when  thus  its  bravest 
defenders  turned  one  against  another  1  Luther  could 
discern  these  fears,  and  endeavoured  to  allay  them. 

Let  us  contend,"  said  he,  "  as  those  who  fight  for 
another.  It  is  God's  cause  :§  the  care  of  it  belongs 
to  God — the  work,  the  victory,  and  the  glory,  all  are 
His.  He  will  fight  for  it,  and  prevail,  though  we 
should  stand  still.  Whatever  He  decrees  should  fall, 
let  it  fall — whatever  He  wills  should  stand,  let  that 
stand.  It  is  no  cause  of  our  own  that  is  at  stake  ;  and 
we  seek  not  our  own  glory." 

Carlstadt  sought  refuge  at  Strasburg,  where  he  pub- 
lished several  writings.  "  He  was  well  acquainted," 
says  Doctor  Scheur,  "  with  Latin,  Greek,  and  He- 
brew ;"  and  Luther  acknowledged  him  to  be  his  su- 
perior in  learning.  Endowed  with  great  powers  of 
mind,  he  sacrificed  to  his  convictions  fame,  station, 
country,  and  even  his  bread.  At  a  later  period  of  his 
life  he  visited  Switzerland.  There,  it  might  seem,  he 
ought  to  have  commenced  his  teaching.  The  inde- 
pendence of  his  spirit  needed  the  free  air  breathed  by 

*  Two  of  the  most  distinguished  living  historians  of  Germa- 
ny  add,  that  Luther  was  pelted  by  the  inhabitants  ;  but  Lu- 
ther tells  us  the  contrary  :— "  Dass  ich  nit  mit  Steinen  und 
Dreck  ausgeworften  ward/'  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  579.) 

t  Hoher  als  tausend  Welten.     (Seek.  p.  623.) 

|  Quae  publice  vocatis  per  campanas  lectiB  sunt  omnibus 
simul  nentibus.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  558.) 

^  Causa  Dei  est,  cura  Dei  est,  opus  Dei  est,  victoria  Dei  est, 
gloria  Dei  est.  (L,  Epp.  ii.  p.  656.) 


CARLSTADT  BANISHED— RETURNS  TO  STRAS BURG— ASSEMBLY. 


275 


the  (Ecolampadiuses  and  Zwingles.  His  instructions 
soon  attracted  an  attention  nearly  equal  to  that  which 
had  been  excited  by  the  earliest  theses  put  forth  by 
Luther.  Switzerland  seemed  almost  gained  over  to 
his  doctrine.  Bucer  and  Capito  also  appeared  to  adopt 
his  views. 

Then  it  was  that  Luther's  indignation  rose  to  its 
height ;  and  he  put  forth  one  of  the  most  powerful  but 
also  most  outrageous  of  his  controversial  writings — his 
book  "  Against  the  Celestial  Prophets." 

Thus  the  Reformation,  hunted  down  by  the  Pope, 
the  Emperor,  and  the  Princes,  began  to  tear  its  own 
vitals.  It  seemed  to  be  sinking  under  accumulated 
evils  ;  and  surely  it  would  have  been  lost  if  it  had  been 
a  work  of  man.  But  soon  from  the  very  brink  of  ruin 
it  rose  again  in  renewed  energy. 

The  Catholic  League  of  Ratisbon,  and  the  persecu- 
tions that  followed  close  upon  it,  created  a  powerful 
popular  re-action.  The  Germans  were  not  disposed 
to  surrender  that  word  of  God  of  which  they  had  re- 
covered possession  ;  and  when  orders  to  that  effect 
came  to  them  from  Charles  V.,  though  backed  by  papal 
bulls  and  the  faggots  of  Ferdinand,  and  other  Catholic 
Princes,  they  returned  for  an  answer,  "  We  will  not 
give  it  up." 

No  sooner  had  the  members  of  the  League  taken 
their  departure  from  Ratisbon,  when  the  deputies  of 
the  towns,  whose  bishops  had  taken  part  in  that  alli- 
ance, surprised  and  indignant,  assembled  at  Spires, 
and  passed  a  law,  that,  notwithstanding  the  episcopal 
prohibitions,  their  preachers  should  corine  themselves 
to  the  proclamation  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  Gospel  only, 
according  to  the  doctrine  of  the  apostles  and  prophets. 
They  proceeded  to  prepare  a  report,  couched  in  firm 
and  consistent  terms,  to  be  presented  to  the  assembly 
of  their  nation. 

The  Emperor's  letter,  dated  from  Burgos,  came  un- 
seasonably to  disturb  their  plans.  Nevertheless,  to- 
ward the  close  of  that  year,  the  deputies  of  the  towns 
and  many  nobles  assembled  at  Ulm,  bound  themselves 
by  solemn  oaths  to  assist  one  another  in  case  of  an 
attack. 

Thus  the  free  cities  opposed  to  the  camp,  that  had 
been  formed  by  Austria,  and  Bavaria,  and  the  bishops, 
another,  in  which  the  standard  of  the  Gospel  and  of 
the  national  liberty  were  unfurled. 

While  the  cities  were  placing  themselves  in  the  van 
of  the  Reformation,  several  princes  were,  about  the 
same  time,  gained  over  to  its  ranks.  In  the  begin- 
ningof  June,  1524,  Melancthon  was  returning,  onhorse- 
back,  from  a  visit  to  his  mother,  in  company  with 
Camerarius  and  some  other  friends,  when  approaching 
Frankfort,  he  met  a  brilliant  retinue  ; — it  was  Philip, 
Landgrave  of  Hesse,  who,  three  years  previously,  had 
visited  Luther  at  Worms,  and  was  now  on  his  way  to 
the  games  of  Heidelberg,  where  most  of  the  princes  of 
Germany  were  expected  to  be  present. 

Thus  did  Providence  bring  Philip  successively  in 
contact  with  the  two  leading  Reformers.  It  was 
known  that  the  celebrated  Doctor  was  gone  on  a  jour- 
ney to  his  birth-place.  One  of  the  horsemen  who  ac- 
companied the  Landgrave  remarked — "  It  is  Melanc- 
thon, I  think."  Immedietely  the  young  Prince  put 
spurs  to  his  horse,  and  coming  up  with  the  Doctor, 
enquired — "  Is  your  name  Philip  1"  "  It  is,"  replied 
he,  drawing  back  timidly,  and  preparing  respectfully 
to  alight.*  "  Keep  your  saddle,"  said  the  Prince, 
"  turn  your  horse's  head,  and  come  stay  one  night 
with  me  ;  there  are  some  things  I  want  to  speak  with 
you  about.  Fear  nothing."  "  What  can  I  fear  from 
a  prince  like  yourself!"  rejoined  the  Doctor.  "Ah, 


94.; 


Honoris  causa  de  equo  descensurus.      (Camerarius,  p 


ah !"  said  the  Landgrave,  laughing,  "  if  I  were  only 
o  carry  you  off,  and  hand  you  over  to  Campeggio,  he 
would  not  be  a  little  pleased,  I  suspect."  The  two 
Philips  rode  onward,  side  by  side- — the  Prince  asking 
questions,  and  the  Doctor  answering  ;  and  the  Land- 
rrave  delighted  with  the  clear  and  impressive  views 
hat  were  opened  before  him.  At  length,  Melancthon 
entreating  him  to  permit  him  to  continue  his  journey, 
Philip  reluctantly  parted  with  him.  "  On  one  condi- 
ion,"  said  he,  "  and  that  is,  that,  on  your  return  home, 
rou  should  treat  fully  the  questions  we  have  discussed,* 
and  send  me  your  thoughts  in  writing."  Melancthon 
promised.  "  Go,  then,"  said  Philip,  "  and  pass  freely 
.hrough  my  states." 

Melancthon  with  his  accustomed  talent  prepared  an 
Abridgement  of  the  Reformed  Doctrine  of  Christiani- 
ty ;t  and  this  tract,  remarkable  for  its  consciseness 
ind  force  of  argument,  made  a  decided  impression  on 
,he  mind  of  the  Landgrave.  Shortly  after  his  return 
rom  the  Heidelberg  games,  this  Prince  issued  an 
edict,  in  which,  without  connecting  himself  with  the 
ree  towns,  he  opposed  the  League  of  Ratisbon,  and 
directed  that  the  Gospel  should  be  preached  in  all  its 
jurity.  He  embraced  it  himself,  with  the  energy  that 
narked  his  character.  "  Rather,"  exclaimed  he, 
4  would  I  sacrifice  my  body,  my  life,  my  estates,  and 
my  subjects,  than  the  word  of  God  !"  A  Franciscan 
riar,  named  Ferber,  perceiving  this  inclination  of  the 
Prince  in  favour  of  the  Reformation,  wrote  to  him  a 
etter  filled  with  reproaches  and  entreaties  to  continue 
faithful  to  Rome.  "  I  am  resolved,"  answered  Philip, 
'  to  be  faithful  to  the  ancient  doctrine — but  as  I  find 
t  set  forth  in  the  Scriptures :"  and  he  proceeded  to 
srove,  with  much  clearness  of  statement,  that  man  is 
justified  by  faith  alone.  The  monk,  confounded,  made 
no  reply. t  The  Landgrave  was  commonly  spoken  of  as 

the  disciple  of  Melancthon."^ 

Other  Princes  followed  the  same  course.  The 
Elector  Palatine  refused  to  countenance  the  slightest 
persecution ;  the  Duke  of  Luneburg,  nephew  of  the 
Elector  of  Saxony,  began  the  Reformation  in  his  do- 
minions ;  and  the  King  of  Denmark  gave  orders  that, 
throughout  Sleswick  and  Holstein,  every  one  should 
DC  at  liberty  to  worship  God  according  as  his  con- 
science dictated. 

The  Reformation  gained  a  victory  yet  more  import- 
ant. A  Prince,  whose  conversion  to  Gospel  truth 
involved  consequences  most  momentous  to  our  own 
times,  now  evinced  a  disposition  to  withdraw  from 
Rome.  One  day,  toward  the  end  of  June,  shortly 
after  the  return  of  Melancthon  to  Wittemberg,  Albert, 
Margrave  of  Brandenburg,  and  Grand  Master  of  the 
Teutonic  Order,  entered  Luther's  apartment.  This 
chief  of  the  monastic  knights  of  Germany,  who  then 
governed  Prussia,  had  repaired  to  the  Diet  of  Nurem- 
berg, to  invoke  the  aid  of  the  Empire  against  Poland. 
He  returned  broken  in  spirit.  On  one  hand,  Osiander's 
preaching,  and  the  reading  of  the  New  Testament,  had 
convinced  him  that  his  monk's  vow  was  contrary  to 
the  word  of  God  ;  on  the  other,  the  suppression  of 
the  national  government  in  Germany  had  deprived  him 
of  all  hope  of  obtaining  the  assistance  which  he  had 
come  to  solicit.  What  was  to  be  done  .  .  .  .  ?  The 
Saxon  councillor,  De  Planitz,  in  whose  company  he 
had  left  Nuremberg,  proposed  to  him  to  seek  an  inter- 
view with  the  Reformer.  "  What  think  you,"  said 
the  anxious  and  agitated  Prince  to  Luther,  "  of  the  rule 
of  our  order  1"  Luther  did  not  hesitate  ;  he  saw  that 

*  Ut  dequsestionibus  quas  audiisset  moveri,  aliquid  diligen- 
ter  conscriptum  curaret.  (Ibid.) 

t  Epitome  renovate  ecclesiastics  doctrinae. 

|  Seckendorf,  p.  738. 

^  Princeps  ille  discipulus  Philippi  fuit  a  quibusdam  appel- 
latus.  (Camer.  p.  95.) 


276   ALBERT  OF  BRANDENBURG— ALL  SAINTS'  CHURCH— THE  MASS  ABOLISHED. 


a  course  of  conduct  in  conformity  with  the  Gospel  was 
also,  the  only  means  of  saving  Prussia.  "  Look  to 
God  for  assitance,"  said  he,  to  the  Grand  Master,  "  anc 
reject  the  senseless  and  inconsistent  rule  of  your  order 
put  an  end  to  your  detestable  hermaphrodite  principal- 
ity, neither  religious  nor  secular  ;*  away  with  mere 
pretended  chastity,  and  seek  that  which  is  the  true. 
Take  a  wife — and  become  the  founder  of  a  legitimate 
empire,  in  place  of  that  anomalous  monster."!  These 
words  set  clearly  before  the  mind  of  the  Grand  Mas- 
ter a  state  of  things  which  he  had  as  yet  seen  but  in- 
distinctly. A  smile  lighted  up  his  countenance  ;  but 
he  was  too  prudent  to  give  utterance  to  his  thoughts.^ 
Melancthon,  who  was  present,  spoke  to  the  same  ef- 
fect as  Luther,  and  the  Prince  set  out  to  return  to 
his  dominions,  leaving  the  Reformers  in  the  con- 
fident hope  that  the  seed  which  they  had  sown  would 
sink  down  into  his  heart,  and  one  day  bring  forth 
fruit. 

Thus,  as  we  have  seen,  Charles  the  Fifth  and  the 
Pope  had  opposed  the  national  assembly  at  Spires, 
fearing  lest  the  Word  of  God  should  win  over  all  pre- 
sent ;  but  the  Word  of  God  was  not  bound.  It  was 
denied  a  hearing  in  a  hall  of  a  town  of  the  Lower 
Palatinate.  But  what  then  1 — it  burst  forth  and  spread 
throughout  the  provices,  stirring  the  hearts  of  the  peo- 
ple, enlightening  the  Princes,  and  developing  that  Di- 
vine power  of  which  neither  Bulls  nor  ordinances  can 
ever  divest  it. 

While  nations  and  their  rulers  were  thus  coming  to 
the  light,  the  Reformers  were  endeavouring  to  remould 
everything  by  the  infusion  of  the  true  principles  of 
Christianity.  Public  worship  first  engaged  their  atten- 
tion. The  moment,  anticipated  by  the  Reformer,  when 
returning  from  the  Wartburg,  had  arrived :  "  Now," 
said  he,  "  that  hearts  have  been  fortified  by  Divine 
Grace,  we  must  put  away  those  things  which  defile 
the  Lord's  kingdom,  and  attempt  to  do  something  in 
the  Name  of  Jesus."  He  required  that  the  commu- 
nion should  be  taken  under  both  kinds  ;  that  the  Sup- 
per should  be  cleared  of  everything  which  gave  to  it 
the  character  of  a  sacrifice  ;<J  that  Christians  should 
never  assemble  themselves  together  without  having 
the  word  of  God  preached  to  them  ;||  that  the  flock, 
or  at  least  the  priests  and  students,  should  meet  every 
morning  at  four  or  five  o'clock,  to  read  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, and  every  evening  at  five  or  six  o'clock  to  read 
the  New  Testament;  that  on  Sundays  the  whole  church 
should  meet  together,  morning  and  afternoon,  and  that 
the  great  object  of  the  services  should  be  to  sound 
abroad  the  Word  of  God.lT 

The  church  of  All  Saints,  at  Wittemberg,  especially 
called  forth  his  indignation.  In  it,  (to  quote  the  words 
of  Seckendorf,)  9,991  masses  were  annually  celebrated, 
and  35,570  Ibs.  of  wax  annually  consumed.  Luther 
called  it  "  the  sacrilege  of  Tophet."  "  There  are," 
said  he,  "  only  three  or  four  lazy  monks  who  still  wor- 
ship this  shameful  Mammon  ;  and  if  I  had  not  re- 
strained the  people,  this  abode  of  all  Saints,  or  rather 
of  all  Devils,  would  have  been  brought  down  with  a 
crash  such  as  the  world  has  never  yet  heard." 

It  was  in  connection  with  this  church  that  the 
conflict  began.  It  resembled  those  ancient  sanctu- 
aries of  heathen  worship  in  Egypt,  Gaul,  and  Germa- 

*  Ut  loco  illius  abominabilis  principatus.qui  hermaphrodita 
quidam.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  627.) 

t  Ut  contempta  ista  stulta  confusaque  regula,  uxorem  du- 
ceret.  (Ibid.) 

i  Ille  turn  arrisit,  sed  nib.il  respondit.     (Ibid.) 

§  Weise  christliche  Messe  zu  halten.  L.  Opp.  (L.)  xxii. 
p.  232.) 

||  Dei  christliche  Gemeino  nimmer  soil  zusammen  kommen, 
ea  werde  denn  daselbst  Gottes  Wort  geprediget.  (L.  Opp. 
xxii.  226.) 

fl  Dass  das  Wort  im  Schwange  gehe.     (Ibid.) 


ny,  which  were  ordained  to  fall,  that  Christianity  might 
be  established  in  their  place. 

Luther,  earnestly  desiring  that  the  mass  should  be 
abolished  in  this  cathedral,  addressed  to  the  chapter,  on 
the  1st  of  March,  1523,  a  requisition  to  that  effect, 
following  it  up  by  a  second  letter  dated  the  1 1th  July.* 
The  canons  having  pleaded  the  Elector's  orders — 
"  What,  in  this  case,  have  we  to  do  with  the  prince's 
orders  ?"  remarked  Luther :  "  he  is  but  a  secular 
prince  ;  his  business  is  to  bear  the  sword,  and  not  to 
intefere  in  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel. "t  Luther  here 
clearly  marks  the  distinction  between  the  State  and 
the  Church.  "  There  is,"  said  he  again,  "  but  one 
sacrifice  to  put  away  sins — Christ  who  has  offered 
himself  once  for  all ;  and  we  are  partakers  thereof, 
not  by  any  works  or  sacrifices  of  ours — but  solely 
through  belief  of  the  word  of  God." 

The  Elector,  feeling  his  end  approaching,  was  averse 
from  futher  change. 

But  entreaties  from  other  quarters  came  in  aid  of 
Luther.  "  It  is  high  time  to  act,"  wrote  the  cathedral 
provost,  Jonas,  to  the  Elector  :  "  such  a  shining  forth 
of  Gospel  truth,  as  that  which  we  have  at  this  hour, 
does  not  ordinarily  last  longer  than  a  sunbeam.  Let 
us  then  lose  no  time."t 

This  letter  of  Jonas,  not  having  changed  the  Elec- 
tor's views,  Luther  became  impatient ;  he  judged  that 
the  time  had  come  to  strike  the  final  blow,  and  he  ad- 
dressed a  letter  of  menace  to  the  chapter.  "  I  beg  of 
you,  as  a  friend — I  desire  and  seriously  urge  it  upon 
you,  to  put  an  end  to  this  sectarian  worship.  If  you 
refuse  to  do  so,  you  shall,  God  helping,  receive  the 
punishment  which  you  will  have  deserved.  I  say  this 
for  your  guidance,  and  I  request  an  immediate  reply — 
yes,  or  no — before  Sunday  next,  in  order  that  I  may 
consider  what  I  have  to  do.  God  give  you  grace  to 
follow  His  light.  $ 

MARTIN  LUTHER. 
"  Preacher  at  Wittemberg." 
*  Thursday,  Dec.  8th,  1524." 

At  this  juncture  the  rector,  two  burgomasters,  and 
ten  councillors,  waited  upon  the  Dean,  and  begged  him 
n  the  name  of  the  university,  of  the  council,  and  of  the 
commune  of  Wittemberg,  "  to  abolish  the  great  and 
lorrible  impiety  committed  against  the  majesty  of 
God,  in  the  celebration  of  mass." 

The  chapter  found  it  necessary  to  give  way,  and 
declared  that,  enlightened  by  the  word  of  God,$  they 
acknowledged  the  abuses  which  had  been  denounced, 
and  published  a  new  order  of  service,  which  began  to 
je  observed  on  Christmas  Day,  1524. 

Thus  fell  the  mass  in  this  renowned  sanctuary,  where 
t  had  so  long  held  out  against  the  reiterated  attacks 
of  the  Reformers.  The  elector,  Frederic,  suffering 
rom  gout,  and  drawing  near  his  end,  could  not,  by 
any  efforts  of  his,  retard  this  great  triumph  of  the 
Reformation.  He  saw  in  it  the  will  of  God,  and  sub- 
mitted to  it.  The  cessation  of  Romish  observances, 
n  the  church  of  All  Saints,  hastened  their  abolition 
n  many  of  the  churches  of  Christendom.  In  allquar- 
:ers  there  was  similar  resistance,  but  also  the  like  vic- 
;ory.  Vainly  did  priests,  and  even  princes,  in  many 
)laces,  try  to  oppose  obstacles ;  they  could  effect  no- 
,hing. 

It  was  not  alone  in  public  worship  that  the  Refor- 
mation was  ordained  to  work  a  change.  Education 
was  very  early  associated  with  the  Reformed  church  ; 

*  L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  308,  and  854. 

t  Welchem  gebiihrt  das  Schwerd,  nicht  das  Predigtamt  zu 
versorgen.  (L.  Opp.  xviii.  p.  497.) 

|  Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  636. 

§  L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  565 

||  Durch  das  Licht  des  heiligen  gottlichen  Woetos.  .  . .  (L. 
Opp.  xviii.  p.  605.) 


LETTER  TO  COUNCILLORS— USE  OF  LEARNING— RELIGION  AND  THE  ARTS.  277 


and  these  two  institutions,  in  their  power  to  regene- 
rate mankind,  were  alike  invigorated  by  its  influence. 
It  was  in  intimate  alliance  with  letters  that  the  Reform- 
ation had  made  its  appearance  in  the  world  ;  and,  in 
the  hour  of  its  triumph,  it  did  not  forget  its  ally. 

Christianity  is  not  a  mere  expansion  of  Judaism  ; 
its  great  end  is  not  again  to  envelop  man,  as  the  pa- 
pacy seeks  to  do,  in  the  "swaddling-bands  of  outward 
ordinances,  and  man's  teaching.  Christianity  is  a  new 
creation  ;  it  takes  possession  of  the  inward  man,  and 
transforms  him  in  the  innermost  principles  of  his  na- 
ture ;  so  that  he  needeth  not  human  teaching,  but,  by 
God's  help,  is  able  of  himself,  and  by  himself,  to  discern 
that  which  is  true,  and  to  do  that  which  is  right."* 

To  bring  man  to  that  maturity  which  Christ  has 
purchased  for  him,  and  to  emancipate  him  from  the 
tutelage  in  which  Rome  had  so  long  held  him  bound, 
the  Reformation  must  needs  develop  the  whole  man  ; 
and,  while  by  the  Word  of  God  it  regenerated  his 
heart  and  will,  it  enlightened  his  understanding  by  the 
study  of  sacred  and  profane  literature. 

Luther  understood  this  ;  he  felt,  that  to  consolidate 
the  Reformation,  he  must  work  on  the  minds  of  the 
rising  generation,  remodel  the  schools,  and  propagate 
throughout  Christendom  the  knowledge  necessary  for 
a  deep  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  This,  therefore, 
was  one  of  the  objects  of  his  life.  He  was  especially 
impressed  with  this  conviction  at  this  period  of  his 
history,  and,  accordingly,  he  addressed  a  letter  to  the 
councillors  of  all  the  towns  in  Germany,  urging  them 
to  found  Christian  schools.  "  Dear  sirs,"  said  he,  "  so 
much  money  is  annually  expended  in  arquebuses,  mak- 
ing roads,  and  constructing  dykes,  how  is  it  that  a  lit- 
tle is  not  expended  in  paying  one  or  two  schoolmas- 
ters :o  instruct  our  poor  children  1  God  stands  at 
the  door,  and  knocks  ;  blessed  are  we  if  we  open  to 
Him  !  Now-a-days  there  is  no  famine  of  God's  word. 
My  dear  countrymen — buy,  buy,  while  the  market  is 
opened  before  your  dwellings.  The  Word  of  God  and 
His  grace  resembles  a  shower  which  falls  and  passes 
on,  It  fell  among  the  Jews  ;  but  it  passed  away,  and 
now  they  have  it  no  longer.  Paul  bore  it  with  him  to 
Greece  ;  but  there,  also,  it  is  passed,  and  Mahomet- 
anism  prevails  in  its  place.  It  came  to  Rome  and  the 
Latin  territories ;  but  from  thence  it  likewise  depart- 
ed, and  now  Rome  has  the  pope.f  O  !  Germans — 
think  not  that  you  will  never  have  that  Word  taken 
away  from  you.  The  little  value  you  put  upon  it  will 
cause  it  to  be  withdrawn.  Therefore,  he  who  would 
have  it,  must  lay  hold  upon,  and  keep  it. 

"  Let  our  youth  be  the  objects  qf  your  care,"  he 
continued,  addressing  the  magistrates,  "  for  many  pa- 
rents are  like  the  ostrich,  their  hearts  are  hardened 
against  their  young,  and,  satisfied  with  having  laid  the 
egg,  they  give  themselves  no  further  trouble  about  it. 
The  prosperity  of  a  town  does  not  consist  in  amassing 
wealth,  erecting  walls,  building  mansions,  and  the  pos- 
session of  arms.  If  attacked  by  a  party  of  madmen, 
its  ruin  and  devastation  would  only  be  the  more  ter- 
rible. The  true  well-being  of  a  town,  its  security, 
its  strength,  is  to  number  within  it  many  learned,  se- 
rious, kind,  and  well-educated  citizens.  And  who  is 
to  blame  that  there  are  found,  in  our  day,  so  few  of 
this  stamp,  but  you,  magistrates,  who  have  suffered  our 
youth  to  grow  up  like  the  neglected  growth  of  the  fo- 
rest 1" 

Luther  especially  insisted  on  the  necessity  for  the 
study  of  literature  and  languages  ;  "  We  are  asked," 
says  he,  "what  is  the  use  of  learning  Latin,  Greek, 
and  Hebrew,  when  we  can  read  the  Bible  in  German  1 

•  Heb.  chap.  viii.  11. 

t  Aber  bin  1st  bin  ;  sie  baben  nun  den  papst.    (L.  Opp.  W. 


But  for  the  languages,"  he  replied,  "  we  should  never 
have  received  the  Gospel  .  .  Languages  are  the  scab- 
bard in  which  the  sword  of  the  Spirit"'  is  found  ; 
they  are  the  casket  which  holds  the  jewels;  they  are 
the  vessels  which  contain  the  new  wine  ;  they  are  the 
baskets  in  which  are  kept  the  loaves  and  fishes  which 
are  to  feed  the  multitude.  If  we  cease  to  study  lan- 
guages, we  shall  not  only  lose  the  Gospel,  but  event- 
ually we  shall  be  unable  either  to  speak  or  write  in 
Latin  or  in  German.  From  the  hour  we  throw  them 
aside,  Christianity  may  date  its  decline,  even  to  falling 
again  under  the  dominion  of  the  pope.  But  now  that 
'anguages  are  once  more  held  in  estimation,  they  dif- 
fuse such  light  that  all  mankind  are  astonished — and 
that  every  one  may  see  that  the  Gospel  we  preach  is 
almost  as  pure  as  that  of  the  apostles  themselves. 
The  holy  fathers  of  other  days,  made  many  mistakes 
ay  reason  of  their  ignorance  of  languages  ;  in  our 
time,  some,  like  the  Vaudois  of  Piedmont,  do  not  at- 
ach  value  to  the  study  of  them  ;  but  though  their  doc 
trine  may  be  sound,  they  often  fail  of  the  real  meaning 
of  the  sacred  text ;  they  are  without  a  safeguard 
against  error,  and  I  much  fear  that  their  faith  will  not 
continue  pure.t  If  a  knowledge  of  languages  had  not 
?iven  me  the  certainty  of  the  true  sense  of  the  Word, 
[  might  have  have  been  a  pious  monk,  quietly  preach- 
ng  the  truth  in  the  obscurity  of  the  cloister ;  but  I 
should  have  left  pope,  sophists,  and  their  anti-Christian 
power,  in  the  ascendant.''^ 

But  Luther's  attention  was  not  limited  to  the  educa- 
tion of  ecclesiastics  ;  he  was  desirous  that  learning 
should  no  longer  be  confined  to  the  church  alone  ;  and 
proposed  to  extend  it  to  the  laity,  who  had,  hitherto, 
aeen  debarred  from  it.  He  suggested  the  establish- 
ment of  libraries,  not  limited  merely  to  works  and 
commentaries  of  scholastic  divines,  and  fathers  of  the 
church,  but  furnished  with  the  productions  of  orators 
and  poets,  even  though  heathens,  as  also  with  books 
of  literature,  law,  medicine,  and  history.  "  Such  writ- 
ngs,"  said  he,  "  are  of  use  to  make  known  the  won- 
derful works  of  God." 

This  effort  of  Luther  is  one  of  the  most  important 
the  Reformation  produced.  It  wrested  learning  from 
the  hands  of  the  priests,  who  had  monopolised  it,  like 
those  of  Egypt  in  ancient  times — and  rendered  it  ac- 
cessible to  all.  From  this  impulse,  derived  from  the 
Reformation,  some  of  the  greatest  developments  of 
later  ages  have  proceeded.  Literary  men,  and  scho- 
lars of  the  laity,  who,  now-a-days,  decry  the  Reforma- 
tion, forget  that  they  are  themselves  its  offspring  ;  and 
that,  but  for  its  influence,  they  would  at  this  hour  be 
like  half-educated  children,  subject  to  the  tyrannical 
authority  of  the  clergy.  The  Reformation  recognised 
the  intimate  connection  of  all  branches  of  learning,  re- 
ceiving all  to  learn,  and  opening  all  the  avenues  to 
learning.  "  They  who  despise  general  literature," 
said  Melancthon,  "  make  no  more  account  of  sacred 
theology  ;  their  affected  contempt  is  but  a  pretext  to 
conceal  their  indolence."^ 

The  Reformation  not  only  communicated  a  mighty 
impulse  to  literature,  but  served  to  elevate  the  arts, 
although  Protestantism  has  often  been  reproached  as 
their  enemy.  Many  Protestants  have  willingly  taken 
up  and  borne  this  reproach.  We  will  not  examine 
whether  or  not  the  Reformation  ought  to  glory  in  it ; 
but  will  merely  remark,  that  impartial  history  does  not 

*Die  Sprachen  sind  die  Scheide,  darinnen  dies  Messer  des 
Oeistes  steket.  (L.  Opp.  W.  x.  p.  535 ) 

f  Es  sey  oder  werde  nicbt  lauter  bleiben.  (L.  Opp.  W.  x. 
p.  535.) 

\  Ich  hatte  wohl  auch  konnen  fromm  seyn  und  in  der  Stille 
rechte  predigen.  (Ibid ) 

{}  Hunc  titulum  ignaviae  SUJE  praetextunt.  (Corp.  Ret  i.  p. 
613.) 


278  MUSIC  AND  POETRY— ABUSES  OF  PAINTING— INSURRECTION  OF  PEASANTS. 


confirm  the  premises  on  which  the  charge  rests.  Let  Ro- 
man Catholicism  pride  itself  on  being  more  favorable 
than  Protestantism  to  the  arts.  Be  it  so  :  Paganism 
was  even  more  so  ;  while  Protestantism  hath  somewhat 
else  to  glory  in.  There  are  some  religions  in  which  the 
disposition  in  man  to  a  taste  for  the  fine  arts  has  a  place 
assigned  to  it  above  that  given  to  his  moral  nature. 
Christianity  is  distinguished  from  these  by  the  fact  that 
the  moral  element  is  its  essence.  Christian  principle 
manifests  itself,  not  in  the  productions  of  the  fine  arts, 
but  in  the  fruits  of  a  Christian  life.  Every  sect  that 
forgets  this  bearing  of  Christianity  upon  morals,  forfeits 
its  claim  to  the  name  of  Christian.  Rome  has  not  en- 
tirely renounced  this  essential  characteristic,  but  Pro- 
testantism cherishes  it  in  far  greater  purity.  It  takes 
pleasure  in  deep  acquaintance  with  morals,  discrimi- 
nating religious  actions,  not  by  their  outward  appear- 
ance and  effect  upon  the  imagination,  but  according  to 
their  inherent  worth,  and  their  bearing  upon  the  con- 
science ;  so  that,  if  the  papacy  is  strongly  marked  as 
an  esthetic  system,  as  has  been  proved  by  an  able 
writer,*  Protestantism  is  equally  characterised  as  a 
moral  system. 

Nevertheless,  the  Reformation,  while  primarily  ap- 
pealing to  the  moral  sense,  addressed  the  whole  man. 
We  have  seen  how  it  spoke  to  his  understanding,  and 
what  it  did  for  literature  ;  it  spoke  also  to  his  sensibi- 
lity and  imagination,  and  thereby  contributed  to  the 
development  of  the  arts.  The  church  was  no  longer 
composed  exclusively  of  priests  and  friars  ;  it  was  the 
assembly  of  the  faithful.  All  were  to  take  part  in  the 
worship,  and  congregational  singing  was  to  take  the 
place  of  the  priest's  chanting.  Luther,  in  translating 
the  Psalms,  had  in  view  their  adaptation  to  be  sung  in 
churches.  Thus  a  taste  for  music  was  disseminated 
throughout  the  nation. 

"  Next  to  theology,"  said  Luther,  "  it  is  to  music 
that  I  give  the  highest  place  and  the  greatest  honour.f 
A  schoolmaster,"  he  added,  "  ought  to  know  how  to 
sing ;  without  this  qualification  I  would  have  nothing 
to  do  with  him." 

One  day,  when  some  fine  music  was  performing,  he 
exclaimed,  in  transport,  "  If  our  Lord  God  has  shed 
forth  such  wondrous  gifts  on  this  earth,  which  is  no 
better  than  a  dark  nook,  what  may  we  not  expect  in 
that  eternal  life  in  which  we  shall  be  perfected."  From 
the  days  of  Luther,  the  congregated  worshippers  have 
taken  part  in  the  singing  ;  the  Bible  has  been  the  great 
theme  of  their  songs  ;  and  the  impulse  communicated 
at  that  period  of  the  Reformation,  has  more  recently 
produced  those  noble  oratorios,  which  have  carried  the 
art  to  its  highest  point  of  attainment. 

Poetry  participated  in  the  movement.  In  singing 
the  praises  of  God,  Christians  were  not  willing  to  re- 
strict themselves  to  simple  renderings  of  ancient  hymns. 
The  souls  of  Luther  and  his  contemporaries,  elevated 
by  faith  to  the  most  sublime  contemplations,  roused  to 
enthusiasm  by  the  dangers  and  struggles  which  inces- 
santly threatened  the  infant  church,  inspired  by  the  po- 
etry of  the  Olil,  and  the  hope  of  the  New  Testament, 
soon  began  to  pour  out  their  feelings  in  religious  songs, 
in  which  poetry  and  music  joined,  and  blended  their 
most  heavenly  accents  ;  and  thus  were  heard  reviving 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  the  hymns  which,  in  the  firs! 
century,  soothed  the  sufferings  of  the  martyrs.  In 
1523,  Luther,  as  we  have  already  said,  consecrated  it 
to  the  commemoration  of  the  martyrs  of  Brussels  ; 
others  of  the  children  of  the  Reformation  followed  his 
example.  Many  were  the  hymns  composed,  and  rapidly 
circulated  among  the  people,  and  greatly  did  they  con 

*  Chateaubriand,  Genie  dn  Christianistne. 
t  Ich  gebe  nach  der  Theologie,  der  Musica  den  naliesten 
Locum  und  hochste  Ehre.    (L.  Opp.  W".  xxii.  p  2253.) 


tribute  to  arouse  their  slumbering  minds.  It  was  in 
this  same  year  Hans  Sach  composed  the  Nightingale 
of  Wittemberg.  It  represented  the  teaching  that  had 
aeen  current  in  the  church,  for  four  centuries,  as  a 
noonlight  time  of  wandering  in  the  deserts.  But  the 
lightingale  proclaimed  the  dawn,  and,  soaring  above 
the  morning  mist,  sang  the  praise  of  the  day. 

While  lyric  poesy  was  thus  deriving  from  the  Re- 
"ormation  its  loftiest  inspiration,  satirical  verses  and 
dramas,  from  the  pen  of  Hutten,  Murner,  and  Manuel, 
were  attacking  the  most  flagrant  corruptions. 

It  is  to  the  Reformation  that  the  great  poets  of  Eng- 
and,  Germany,  and  perhaps  of  France,  are  indebted 
"or  the  highest  flights  of  their  muse. 

Painting  was,  of  all  the  arts,  the  least  affected  by 
the  Reformation.  This,  nevertheless,  was  renovated, 
and,  as  it  were,  hallowed  by  that  universal  movement 
which  was  then  communicated  to  all  the  powers  of 
man.  The  great  master  of  that  age,  Lucas  Cranach, 
settled  at  Wittemberg,  and  became  the  painter  of  the 
Reformation.  We  have  seen  how  he  represented  the 
points  of  contrast  between  Christ  and  anti-Christ,  (the 
pope,)  and  was  thus  among  the  most  influential  instru- 
ments in  that  change  by  which  the  nation  was  trans- 
"ormed.  As  soon  as  he  had  received  new  convictions, 
le  devoted  his  chastened  pencil  solely  to  paintings  in 
larmony  with  the  thoughts  of  a  Christian,  and  gave  to 
groups  of  children,  represented  as  blessed  by  the  Sa- 
viour, that  peculiar  grace  with  which  he  had  previously 
nvested  legendary  saints. 

Albert  Durer  was  one  of  those  who  were  attracted 
ay  the  Word  of  Truth,  and  from  that  time,  a  new  im- 
pulse was  given  to  his  genius.  His  master-pieces  were 
produced  subsequently  to  conversion.  It  might  have 
been  discerned,  from  the  style  in  which  he  thencefor- 
ward depicted  the  Evangelists  and  Apostles,  that  the 
Bible  had  been  restored  to  the  people,  and  that  the 
painter  derived  thence  a  depth,  power,  life,  and  dignity, 
which  he  never  would  have  found  within  himself.* 

It  must,  however,  be  admitted,  that,  of  all  the  arts, 
Painting  is  that  one  whose  influence  upon  religion  is 
most  open  to  well  founded  and  strong  objection.  We 
see  it  continually  connected  with  grievous  immorality 
or  pernicious  error ;  and  those  who  have  studied 
history,  or  visited  Italy,  will  look  for  nothing  in  this  art 
of  benefit  to  human-kind.  Our  general  remark  holds 
good,  however,  notwithstanding  this  exception. 

Thus  everything  progressed,  arts,  literature,  purity 
of  worship — and  the  minds  of  prince  and  people.  But 
this  glorious  harmony,  which  the  Gospel,  in  its  revival, 
everywhere  produced,  was  on  the  eve  of  being  disturb- 
ed. The  melody  of  the  Wittemberg  Nightingale  was 
to  be  broken  in  upon  by  the  howling  of  the  tempest, 
and  the  roaring  of  lions.  In  a  moment  a  cloud  over- 
spread Germany,  and  a  brilliant  day  was  succeeded 
by  a  night  of  profound  darkness. 

A  political  ferment,  very  different  from  that  which 
the  Gospel  brings  with  it,  had  long  been  secretly  work- 
ing in  the  Empire.  Sinking  under  secular  and  eccle- 
siastical oppression,  and,  in  some  of  the  states,  forming 
part  of  the  seigrieurial  property,  and  liable  to  sale  with 
it,  the  people  began  to  threaten  to  rise  in  insurrection, 
and  burst  their  fetters.  This  spirit  of  resistance  had 
shown  itself  long  before  the  Reformation,  by  various 
symptoms  ;  and  even  at  that  time  a  feeling  of  religion 
had  mingled  with  the  political  elements  of  resistance, 
ft  was  impossible,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  to  keep 
asunder  two  principles  so  intimately  associated  with 
the  existence  of  nations  In  Holland,  at  the  close  of 
the  preceding  century,  the  peasantry  had  ma«le  an  in- 
surrection, representing  on  their  banners  a  loaf  of  bread 
and  a  cheese,  the  two  staple  articles  of  their  poor 
*  Ranke,  Deutsche  Geschichte,  ii.  p.  85  • 


THE  REFORMATION  AND  REVOLT— FANATICISM— «  THE  SPIRIT." 


279 


country.  The  "alliance  of  the  shoes,"  showed  itself 
first  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Spires,  in  1503  ;  and  in 
1513,  being  encouraged  by  the  priests,  it  was  re-acted 
at  Brisgau.  In  1514,  Wurtemburg  was  the  scene  of 
"  the  league  of  poor  Conrad,"  which  had  for  its  object 
to  sustain,  by  the  revolt,  "  the  right  of  God."  In  1515 
Carinthia  and  Hungary  had  been  the  theatre  of  terrible 
commotions.  These  seditious  movements  had  been 
arrested  by  torrents  of  blood  ;  but  no  relief  had  been 
afforded  to  the  people.  A  political  reform  was,  there- 
fore, not  less  evidently  needed  than  religious  reform. 
In  this  the  people  were  right ;  but  it  must  be  admitted, 
that  they  were  not  ripe  for  its  enjoyment. 

Since  the  commencement  of  the  Reformation  these 
popular  ferments  had  not  been  repeated  ;  men's  minds 
were  absorbed  with  other  thoughts.  Luther,  whose 
penetrating  eye  had  discerned  the  condition  of  people's 
minds,  had,  from  his  tower  in  the  Wartburg,  addressed 
to  them  some  serious  exhortations  of  a  nature  to  pacify 
their  agitated  feelings  : — 

"  Rebellion,"  he  observed,  "  never  obtains  for  us 
the  benefit  we  seek,  and  God  condemns  it.  What  is 
rebellion'!  is  it  not  to  revenge  oneself!  The  devil 
tries  hard  to  stir  up  to  rebellion  such  as  embrace  the 
Gospel,  that  it  may  be  covered  with  reproach  ;  but 
they  who  have  rightly  received  the  truths  I  have  preach- 
ed, will  not  be  found  in  rebellion."* 

The  aspect  of  things  gave  cause  to  fear  that  the 
popular  ferment  could  not  be  much  longer  restrained. 
The  government  which  Frederic  of  Saxony  had  taken 
pains  to  form,  and  which  possessed  the  nation's  confi- 
dence, was  broken  up.  The  Emperor,  whose  energy 
would  perhaps  have  supplied  the  place  of  the  influence 
of  the  national  administration,  was  absent ;  the  princes, 
whose  union  had  always  constituted  the  strength  of 
Germany,  were  at  variance  ;  and  the  new  manifestoes 
of  Charles  the  Fifth  against  Luther,  by  excluding  all 
hope  of  a  future  reconciliation,  deprived  the  Reformer 
of  much  of  the  moral  influence,  by  which,  in  1522,  he 
had  succeeded  in  calming  the  tempest.  The  barrier, 
which  had  hitherto  withstood  the  torrent,  being  swept 
away,  its  fury  could  no  longer  be  restrained. 

The  religious  movement  did  not  give  birth  to  the 
political  agitation  ;  but  in  some  quarters  it  was  drawn 
into,  and  went  along  with  its  swelling  tide.  We  might 
perhaps,  go  farther,  and  acknowledge  that  the  move- 
ment which  the  Reformation  communicated  to  the 
popular  mind,  added  strength  to  the  discontent  which 
was  everywhere  fermenting.  The  vehemence  of  Lu- 
ther's writings,  his  bold  words  and  actions,  and  the 
stern  truth  he  spake,  not  only  to  the  Pope  and  the 
prelates,  but  even  to  the  nobles,  must  needs  have  con- 
tributed to  inflame  minds  that  were  already  in  a  state 
of  considerable  excitement.  Thus  Erasmus  failed  not 
to  remind  him — "  We  are  now  gathering  the  fruits  of 
your  teaching."!  Moreover,  the  animating  truths  of 
the  Gospel,  now  fully  brought  to  light,  stirred  all  bo- 
soms, and  filled  them  with  hopeful  anticipations.  But 
there  were  many  unrenewed  hearts  which  were  not 
prepared  by  a  change  of  thought  for  the  faith  and  liberty 
of  a  Christian.  They  were  quite  willing  to  cast  off  the 
yoke  of  Rome,  but  they  had  no  desire  to  take  upon 
them  the  yoke  of  Christ.  Thus,  when  the  Princes 
who  espoused  the  cause  of  Rome  endeavoured,  in  their 
anger,  to  crush  the  Reformation,  those  who  were  really 
Christians  were  enabled  patiently  to  endure  those  cruel 
persecutions — while  the  majority  were  roused  to  re- 
sistance, and  broke  forth  in  tumults  ;  and,  finding  their 
desires  opposed  in  one  direction,  they  sought  vent  for 

*  Luther's  treue  Ermahnung  an  alle  Christ  sich  vor 
Aufruhr  und  Emporung  zu  hiiten.     (Opp.  xviii.  y.  2a8.) 
i  Habemus  fructum  tui  spiritus.     (Erasm.  Hyperasp.  B.  4.) 


them  in  another.  "  Why  is  it,"  said  they,  "  when  the 
Church  invites  all  men  to  a  glorious  liberty,  that  ser- 
vitude is  perpetuated  in  the  state  ?  When  the  Gospel 
inculcates  nothing  but  gentleness,  why  should  Govern- 
ments rule  only  by  force!"  Unhappily,  at  the  very 
period  when  a  reformation  of  religion  was  hailed  with 
joy,  alike  by  nobles  and  people,  a  political  reformation, 
on  the  contrary,  encountered  the  opposition  of  the  most 
powerful  of  the  nation.  And  while  the  former  had  the 
Gospel  for  its  rule  and  basis,  the  latter  had  ere  long 
no  principles  or  motives  but  violence  and  insubjection. 
Hence — while  the  one  was  kept  within  the  bounds  of 
truth,  the  other  rapidly  overpassed  all  bounds — like  an 
impetuous  torrent  bursting  its  banks.  But  to  deny 
that  the  Reformation  exerted  an  indirect  influence  on 
the  commotions  which  then  disturbed  the  Empire, 
would  subject  the  historian  to  the  charge  of  partiality. 
A  fire  had  been  lighted  up  in  Germany  by  religious 
discussions,  from  which  it  was  scarcely  possible  but 
that  some  sparks  should  escape  which  were  likely  to 
inflame  the  popular  minds. 

The  pretensions  of  a  handful  of  fanatics  to  Divine 
inspiration  added  to  the  danger.  While  the  Reforma- 
tion constantly  appealed  from  the  authority  claimed  by 
the  Church  to  the  real  authority  of  the  Sacred  Word, 
those  enthusiasts  rejected,  not  only  the  authority  of  the 
Church,  but  that  of  Scripture  also  ;  they  began  to  speak 
only  of  an  inward  Word — an  internal  revelation  from 
God  ;  and,  unmindful  of  the  natural  corruption  of  their 
hearts,  they  abandoned  themselves  to  the  intoxication 
of  spiritual  pride,  and  imagined  themselves  to  be 
saints. 

"  The  Sacred  Writings,"  said  Luther,  "  were  treated 
by  them  as  a  dead  letter,  and  their  cry  was,  '  the  Spirit ! 
the  Spirit !'  But  assuredly,  I,  for  one,  will  not  follow 
wither  their  spirit  is  leading  them  !  May  God,  in  His 
mercy,  preserve  me  from  a  Church  in  which  there  are 
only  such  saints.*  I  wish  to  be  in  fellowship  with  the 
humble,  the  weak,  the  sick,  who  know  and  feel  their 
sin,  and  sigh  and  cry  continually  to  God  from  the  bot- 
tom of  their  hearts  to  obtain  comfort  arid  deliverance." 
These  wards  of  Luther  have  a  depth  of  meaning,  and 
indicate  the  change  which  his  views  were  undergoing 
as  to  the  nature  of  the  Church.  They,  at  the  same 
time,  show  how  opposed  the  religious  principles  of  the 
rebels  were  to  the  religious  principles  of  the  Reforma- 
tion. 

The  most  noted  of  these  enthusiasts  was  Thomas 
Munzer ;  he  was  not  without  talent ;  had  read  his 
Bible,  was  of  a  zealous  temperament,  and  might  have 
done  good,  if  he  had  been  able  to  gather  up  his  agi- 
tated thoughts,  and  attain  to  settled  peace  of  consci- 
ence. But  with  little  knowledge  of  his  own  heart, 
and  wanting  in  true  humility,  he  was  taken  up  with 
the  desire  of  reforming  the  world,  and,  like  the  gene- 
rality of  enthusiasts,  forgot  that  it  was  with  himself, 
he  should  begin.  Certain  mystical  writings,  which  he 
had  read  in  his  youth,  had  given  a  false  direction  to  his 
thoughts.  He  made  his  first  appearance  in  public  at 
Zwickau  ;  quitted  WiUemberg  on  Luther's  return  thi- 
ther— not  satisfied  to  hold  a  secondary  place  in  the 
general  esteem,  and  became  pastor  of  the  small  town 
of  Alstadt,  in  Thuringia.  Here  he  could  not  long  re- 
main quiet,  but  publicly  charged  the  Reformers  with 
establishing,  by  their  adherence  to  the  written  Word,  a 
species  of  Popery,  and  with  forming  churches  which 
were  not  pure  and  holy. 

4  Luther,"  said  he,  "  has  liberated  men's  consciences 
from  the  Papal  yoke  ;  but  he  has  left  them  in  a  carnal 

Der  barmherzige  Gott  behiite  mich  ja  fur  der  christlichen 
Kirche,  daren  eitel  heilige  sind.  (Upon  John  i.  2.  L.  Opp. 
(W.)*ii.p.l469.) 


280 


MUNZER  PREACHES  REVOLT— LIBERTY  OF  CONSCIENCE. 


liberty,  and  has  not  led  them  forward  in  spirit  toward 
God/'* 

He  considered  himself  as  called  of  God  to  remedy 
this  great  evil.  The  revelations  of  the  Spirit,  accord- 
ing to  him,  were  the  means  by  which  the  Reformation 
he  was  charged  with  should  be  effected.  "  He  who 
hath  the  Spirit,  said  he,  "  hath  true  faith,  although  he 
should  never  once  in  all  his  life  see  the  Holy  Scriptures. 
The  heathen  and  the  Turks  are  better  prepared  to  re- 
ceive the  Spirit  than  many  of  those  Christians  who  call 
us  enthusiasts."  This  remark  was  directed  against 
Luther.  "  In  order  to  receive  the  Spirit,"  continued 
he,  "  we  must  mortify  the  flesh — wear  sackcloth — ne- 
glect the  body — be  of  a  sad  countenance — keep  si- 
lencef — forsake  the  haunts  of  men — and  implore  God 
to  vouchsafe  to  us  an  assurance  of  His  favour.  Then 
it  is  that  God  will  come  unto  us,  and  talk  with  u?,  as 
he  did  of  old  with  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob.  If  He 
were  not  to  do  so,  he  would  not  deserve  our  regard.  J 
I  have  received  from  God  the  commission  to  gather 
together  His  elect  in  a  holy  and  eternal  union." 

The  agitation  and  ferment  which  were  working  in 
men's  minds  were  not  a  little  favourable  to  the  spread 
of  these  enthusiastic  ideas.  Men  love  the  marvellous 
and  whatever  flatters  their  pride.  Munzer  having  in- 
oculated, with  his  own  views,  a  portion  of  his  flock, 
abolished  the  practice  of  chaunting,  and  all  the  other 
ceremonies  annexed  to  public  worship.  He  maintained 
that  to  obey  princes  "  devoid  of  understanding,"  was 
to  serve,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  God  and  Belial ; 
and  then  setting  off  at  the  head  of  his  parishioners  to 
a  chapel  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Alstadt,  to  which  pil- 
grims were  accustomed  to  resort  from  all  quarters,  he 
totally  demolished  it.  After  this  exploit,  being  obliged 
to  leave  the  country,  he  wandered  from  place  to  place 
in  Germany,  and  came  as  far  as  Switzerland,  every- 
where carrying  with  him,  and  communicating  to  all 
who  gave  ear  to  him,  the  project  of  a  general  revolu- 
tion. Wherever  he  went  he  found  men's  minds  pre- 
pared. His  words  were  like  gunpowder  cast  upon 
burning  coals,  and  a  violent  explosion  quickly  ensued. 

Luther,  who  had  rejected  the  warlike  enterprises  of 
Sickingen,^  could  not  be  led  away  by  the  tumultuous 
movements  of  the  peasantry.  Happily  for  social  or- 
der, the  Gospel  kept  him  from  falling  into  this  error ;  for 
what  would  have  been  the  consequences,  had  he  cast 
his  extensive  influence  into  the  scale  1  ...  He  reso- 
lutely maintained  the  distinction  between  spiritual  and 
secular  matters  ;  constantly  affirming,  that  it  was  to 
immortal  souls  that  Christ  gave  liberty  by  His  word  ; 
and  while  on  the  one  hand  he  impugned  the  authority 
of  the  Church,  he  on  the  other,  with  equal  courage, 
stood  up  for  the  power  of  rulers.  "  A  Christian," 
said  he,  "  ought  to  suffer  a  hundred  deaths,  rather  than 
be  mixed  up  in  the  least  degree  with  the  revolted  pea- 
santry." He  wrote  to  the  Elector — "  It  gives  me  in- 
describable satisfaction  that  these  enthusiasts  them- 
selves boast,  to  all  who  will  give  ear  to  them,  that  they 
do  not  belong  to  us.  '  It  is,'  say  they,  '  the  Spirit 
which  impels  us ;'  to  which  I  reply,  *  that  it  must  be 
an  evil  spirit,  that  bears  no  other  fruits  than  the  pillage 
of  convents  and  churches  ;'  the  greatest  robbers  on 
this  earth  might  easily  do  as  much  as  that." 

At  the  same  time,  Luther,  who  desired  for  others 
the  liberty  that  he  claimed  for  himself,  was  dissuading 

*  Fuhrete  sie  nicht  weiter  in  Geist  und  zu  Gott.  (L  OPP 
xix.  294 ) 

t  Saur  sehea,  den  Bart  nicht  abschneiden.     (L.  Opp.  xix. 

\  The  expression  used  by  Munzer  is  low  and  irreverent : 
Er  wollt  iu  Gott  scheissen  wenn  er  nicht  mit  ihm  redet,  wie 
mit  Abraham.  (Hist,  of  Munzer,  by  Melancthon,  Ibid.  p. 
295.) 

$  Yol  I.  book  i.  p.  113. 


the  Prince  from  resorting  to  severe  measures.  "  Let 
them  preach  what  they  will,  and  against  whom  they 
please,"  said  he,  "  for  it  is  the  Word  of  God  alone 
which  must  go  forth  and  give  them  battle.  If  the 
spirit  in  them  be  the  true  Spirit,  any  severity  of  ours 
will  be  unavailing  ;  but  if  our  Spirit  be  the  true,  He 
will  not  fear  their  violence  !  Let  us  leave  the  Spirits 
to  struggle  and  contend.*  A  few,  perhaps,  may  be  se- 
duced. In  every  battle  there  are  some  wounded  ;  but 
he  who  is  faithful  in  the  fight  shall  receive  the  crown. 
Nevertheless,  if  they  have  recourse  to  the  sword,  let 
your  Highness  prohibit  it,  and  command  them  to  quit 
your  dominions." 

The  insurrection  commenced  in  the  districts  of  the 
Black  Forest,  near  the  sources  of  the  Danube,  a  coun- 
try that  had  been  often  the  theatre  of  popular  commo- 
tions. On  the  19th  July,  1524,  the  Thurgovian  pea- 
santry rose  against  the  Abbot  of  Reicheneau,  who  had 
refused  to  appoint  over  them  an  evangelical  preacher. 
Shortly  after  this,  several  thousands  of  them  collected 
round  the  small  town  of  Tenger — their  object  being 
to  liberate  an  ecclesiastic  who  was  there  imprisoned. 
The  insurrection  spread,  with  inconceivable  rapidity, 
from  Suabia  as  far  as  the  Rhenish  provinces,  Franco- 
nia,  Thuringia,  and  Saxony.  In  January,  1525,  all 
these  countries  were  in  a  state  of  open  insurrection. 

Toward  the  close  of  that  month,  the  peasantry  put 
forth  a  declaration  in  twelve  articles,  wherein  they 
claimed  the  liberty  of  choosing  their  own  pastors,  the 
abolition  of  small  tithes,  servitude,  arid  the  taxes  on  in- 
heritance ;  the  right  to  hunt,  fish,  cut  wood,  &c.  Each 
demand  was  backed  by  a  passage  from  the  Bible  :  and 
they  concluded  with  the  words — "  If  we  are  wrong, 
let  Luther  set  us  right  by  the  Scriptures." 

They  requested  to  have  the  opinions  of  the  divines 
of  Wittemberg.  Melancthon  and  Luther  each  gave 
bis  judgment  separately  ;  and  the  decision  of  each  re- 
minds us  of  the  difference  that  marked  their  characters. 
Melancthon,  who  regarded  any  disturbance  as  a  seri- 
ous crime,  overstepped  the  limits  of  his  habitual  mild- 
ness, and  seemed  to  labour  to  express  the  strength  of 
lis  indignation.  According  to  him,  the  peasantry  were 
Dublic  criminals,  on  whom  he  invoked  all  laws — divine 
and  human.  If  amicable  communications  should  fail 
of  effect,  he  would  have  the  magistrates  to  pursue  them, 
as  they  would  robbers  and  assassins.  '•  Nevertheless," 
adds  he — (and  some  one  feature,  at  least,  we  need  to 
find,  that  shall  remind  us  of  Melancthon) — "  think  of 
the  orphans  before  you  have  recourse  to  capital  punish- 
ment !" 

Luther  took  the  same  view  of  the  revolt  as  Melanc- 
thon, but  he  had  a  heart  which  deeply  felt  for  the  mi- 
series of  the  people.  He  manifested,  on  this  occasion, 
a  noble  impartiality,  and  frankly  spoke  truth  to  both 
)arties.  He  first  addressed  the  princes — and  more 
particularly  the  bishops  : — 

"  It  is  you,"  said  he,  "  who  have  caused  the  revolt ; 
t  is  your  declamations  against  the  Gospel,  it  is  your 
guilty  oppression  of  the  poor  of  the  flock — which  have 
driven  the  people  to  despair.  My  dear  Lords,  it  is  not 
the  peasants  who  have  risen  against  you — it  is  God 
himself  who  is  opposing  your  madness. f  The  pea- 
sants are  but  instruments  He  is  employing  to  humble 

i.  Think  not  you  can  escape  the  punishment  re- 
served for  you.  Even  though  you  should  succeed  in 
exterminating  all  the  peasantry,  God  could  from  these 
stones  raise  up  others  to  chastise  your  pride.  If  I 
were  bent  on  avenging  my  own  wrongs,  I  might  laugh 
n  my  sleeve—and  quietly  look  on,  while  the  peasantry 

*•  Man  lasse  die  Geister  auf  einander  platzen  und  treffen. 
L.  Epp.  ii.p.  547.) 
'  t  Gott  ist's  selber  der  setzt  aich  wider  euch.    (L.  Opp.  xix. 

264.) 


LUTHER'S  VIEW  OF  THE  REVOLT— LtJTHER  TO  THE  PEASANTRY. 


281 


were  acting — or  even  inflame  their  rage — but  the  Lor< 
keep  me  from  it !  My  dear  Lords,  for  the  love  of  God 
calm  your  irritation  ;  grant  reasonable  conditions  to 
these  poor  people,  as  phrenzied  and  misled  persons 
appease  these  commotions  by  gentle  methods,  lest  the) 
give  girth  to  a  conflagration  which  shall  set  all  Ger 
many  in  a  flame.  Some  of  their  twelve  articles  con 
tain  just  and  reasonable  demands." 

Such  an  exordium  was  calculated  to  gain  for  Luthei 
the  confidence  of  the  peasantry,  and  to  induce  them  to 
listen  to  the  truths  which  he  was  about  to  press  upon 
them.  After  admitting  that  some  of  their  demands 
were  founded  in  justice,  he  declared  that  rebellion  was 
the  act  of  heathens :  that  Christians  were  called  to 
suffer,  not  to  fight :  that  if  they  persisted  in  their  re- 
volt in  the  name  of  the  Go?pel,  but  contrary  to  the 
very  precepts  of  the  Gospel,  he  should  consider  them 
as  worse  enemies  than  the  Pope.  "  The  Pope  and 
the  Emperor,"  continued  he,  "  combined  against  me  ; 
but  the  more  the  Emperor  and  the  Pope  stormed,  the 
more  did  the  Gospel  make  its  way.  Why  was  this  1 
Because  I  neither  took  up  the  sword,  nor  called  for 
vengeance,  nor  had  recourse  to  tumult  or  revolt ;  I 
committed  all  to  God — and  waited  for  Him  to  inter- 
pose by  His  mighty  power.  The  Christian  conflict  is 
not  to  be  carried  on  by  sword  or  arquebuss,  but  by 
endurance  and  the  cross.  Christ,  their  Captain,  would 
not  have  his  servants  smite  with  the  sword — he  was 
hanged  upon  a  tree." 

But  in  vain  did  Luther  inculcate  these  Christian 
precepts.  The  people,  under  the  influence  of  the  in- 
flammatory harangues  of  the  leaders  of  the  revolt,  were 
d^eaf  to  the  words  of  the  Reformer.  "  He  is  playing 
the  hypocrite,"  said  they,  *'  and  flatters  the  nobles : 
he  has  himself  made  war  against  the  Pope,  and  yet 
expects  that  we  should  submit  to  our  oppressors." 

Instead  of  subsiding,  the  insurrection  grew  more 
formidable.  At  Weinsburg,  Count  Louis  of  Helfen- 
slein,  and  the  seventy  men  under  his  command,  were 
doomed  to  death.  A  body  of  peasantry  drew  up  in 
close  ranks,  with  advanced  pikes,  while  others  drove 
the  Count  and  his  retainers  against  the  points  of  this 
forest  of  weapons.*  The  wife  of  the  ill-fated  Helfen- 
stein,  a  natural  daughter  of  the  Emperor,  Maximilian, 
holding  her  infant  in  her  arms,  implored  them,  on  bend- 
ed knees,  to  spare  the  life  of  her  husband,  and  vainly 
endeavoured  to  avert  this  barbarous  murder.  A  lad 
who  had  served  under  the  Count,  and  had  afterward 
joined  the  rebels,  gamboled  in  mockery  before  him,  and 
played  the  dead  march  upon  his  fife,  as  if  he  had  been 
leading  his  victims  in  adance.  Allperished;  theinfant 
was  wounded  in  its  mother'sarms,and  she'herself  thrown 
upon  a  dung-cart,  and  thus  conveyed  lo  Heilbroun. 

At  the  news  of  these  atrocities,  a  cry  of  horror  was 
uttered  by  the  friends  of  the  Reformation,  and  Luther's 
feeling  heart  was  violently  agitated.  On  one  hand, 
the  peasantry,  ridiculing  his  counsel,  asserted  that  they 
had  a  revelation  from  Heaven,  impiously  perverted  the 
threatenings  contained  in  the  Old  Testament,  proclaim- 
ed an  equality  of  conditions,  and  a  community  of  goods, 
defended  their  cause  with  fire  arid  sword,  and  rioted  in 
barbarous  executions.  On  the  other  hand,  the  enemies 
of  the  Reformation,  with  malicious  sneers,  enquired  if 
the  Reformer  drd  not  know  that  it  was  easier  to  kindle 
a  fire  than  to  extinguish  it.  Indignant  at  these  exces- 
ses, and  alarmed  at  the  thought  that  they  might  check 
the  progress  of  the  Gospel,  Luther  no  longer  hesitated  ; 
he  laid  aside  his  former  forbearance,  and  denounced 
the  rebels  with  all  the  energy  of  his  character,  over- 
passing, perhaps,  the  just  bounds  within  which  he 
should  have  contained  himself. 

Und  iechten  ein  Grasscn  darch  die  Spiesse.     (Mathesius, 

H. 


"  The  peasantry,"  said  he,  "  are  guilty  of  three  hor- 
rible crimes  against  God  and  man  ;  and  thus  deserve 
both  the  death  of  the  body  and  that  of  the  soul.  In 
the  first  place,  they  rebel  against  their  rulers,  to  whom 
they  have  sworn  allegiance  ;  next,  they  rob  and  plun- 
der convents  and  castles  ;  and,  to  crown  all,  they  cloak 
their  crimes  under  the  profession  of  the  Gospel !  If 
you  neglect  to  shoot  a  mad  dog,  yourself  and  all  your 
neighbours  will  perish.  He  who  dies  in  the  cause  of 
the  magistrates  will  be  a  true  martyr,  provided  he  fight 
with  a  good  conscience." 

Luther  then  proceeds  to  comment  severely  upon  the 
guilty  violence  of  the  peasantry,  in  compelling  simple 
and  peaceable  men  to  join  their  ranks,  and  thus  bring- 
ing them  into  the  same  condemnation.  He  then  pro- 
ceeds :  "  On  this  account,  my  dear  Lords,  I  conjure 
you  to  interpose  for  the  deliverance  of  these  poor  peo- 
ple. I  say  to  him  who  can  bear  arms,  strike  and  kill. 
If  thou  shouldst  fall,  thou  canst  not  have  a  more  bless- 
ed end  ;  for  thou  meetest  death  in  the  service  of  God, 
and  to  save  thy  neighbour  from  hell ."* 

Neither  gentle  nor  violent  measures  could  arrest  the 
popular  torrent.  The  church  bells  were  rung  no  long- 
er for  divine  worship.  Whenever  their  deep  and  pro- 
longed sounds  were  heard  in  country  places,  it  was 
known  as  the  tocsin,  and  all  flew  to  arms. 

The  people  of  the  Black  Forest  had  enrolled  them- 
selves under  John  Muller,  of  Bulgenbach.  With  an. 
imposing  aspect,  wrapped  in  a  red  cloak,  and  wearing 
a  red  cap,  this  chief  daringly  proceeded  from  village  to 
village,  followed  by  his  peasantry.  Behind  him,  on  a 
wagon,  decorated  with  boughs  and  ribands-,  was  ex- 
tiibited  a  tri-coloured  flag,  black,  red,  and  white — tho 
standard  of  revolt.  A  herald,  similarly  decorated,  read 
aloud  the  twelve  articles,  and  invited  the  people  to  join 
n  the  insurrection.  Whoever  refused  to  do  so,  was 
banished  from  the  community. 

Their  progress,  which  at  first  was  pacific,  became 
more  and  more  alarming.  "  We  must,"  they  exclaim- 
ed, "  compel  the  fords  of  the  soil  to  submit  to  our  con- 
ditions " — and  by  way  of  bringing  them  to  compliance 
they  proceeded  to  break  open  the  granaries,  empty  the 
cellars,  draw  the  fish-ponds,  demolish  the  castles  of  the 
nobtes,  and  set  fire  to  the  convents.  Opposition  had  in- 
flamed to  frenzy  these  misguided  men  :  Equality  could 
no  longer  satisfy  them  ;  they  thirsted  for  blood  ;  and 
swore  to  make  every  man  who  wore  a  spur  bite  the  dust. 

At  the  approach  of  the  peasantry,  those  towns  which 
were  incapable  of  withstanding  a  siege  opened  their 
gates,  and  made  common  cause  with  them.  In  every 
)lace  they  entered,  the  images  of  the  saints  were  de- 
aced — the  crucifixes  broken  to  pieces — while  women, 
rmed  with  weapons,  passed  through  the  streets  threat- 
ening the  lives  of  the  monks.  Beaten  and  repulsed 
n  one  place,  they  re-assembled  in  another,  and  braved 
he  most  formidable  regular  troops. 

A  committee  chosen  by  the  peasants  stationed  them- 
elves  at  Heilbrun.  The  Counts  of  Lowenstein  were 
captured,  stript,  and  clothed  in  common  blouse,  a  whilo 
taff  was  placed  in  their  hands,  and  they  were  compet- 
ed to  swear  adhesion  to  the  twelve  articles.  "  Broth- 
George,  and  you,  brother  Albert,"  said  a  brazier  to 
he  Counts  of  Hohenlohe,  who  visited  their  camp, 
'  swear  to  us  to  act  the  part  of  brothers — for  yourselves 
re  now  peasants  and  no  longer  lords."  Equality  of 
anks,  that  dream  of  democrats,  was  established  in  aris- 
ocratic  Germany. 

Many  persons  of  the  upper  classes,  some  from  fear, 
nd  some  from  motives  of  ambition,  joined  the  insur- 
ection.  The  celebrated  Gotz,  of  Berlichingen.  finding 
limself  unable  to  maintain  his  authority  over  his  vas- 

Deinen  Neheeten  zu  retteri  aus  der  Hofle.    (L.  Opp.  xix. 


282     «  RADICAL  REFORM  "—DEFEAT  OF  THE  REBELS— MUNZER  AT  MULHAUSEN. 


sals,  f>repared  to  seek  a  refuge  in  the  states  of  the 
Elector  of  Saxony,  but  his  wile,  who  was  then  in  child- 
bed, wishing  to  keep  him  at  home,  concealed  from  him 
the  Elector's  letter.  Gotz,  hemmed  in  on  all  sides, 
was  compelled  to  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  rebel 
forces.  On  the  7th  of  May,  the  peasants  entered 
Wurtzburg,  where  they  were  received  with  acclama- 
tions. The  troops  of  the  princes  and  of  the  knights 
of  Snabia  and  Franconia,  who  were  stationed  in  that 
city,  evacuated  it,  and  withdrew  in  confusion  within 
the  citadel,  the  last  refuge  of  the  nobility. 

But  already  had  the  commotion  spread  to  other  parts 
of  Germany.  Spires,  the  Palatinate,  Alsace,  Hesse, 
had  adopted  the  twelve  articles,  and  the  peasants  threat- 
ened Bavaria,  Westphalia,  the  Tyrol,  Saxony,  and  Lor- 
raine. The  Margrave  of  Baden,  having  scornfully  re- 
jected the  articles,  was  compelled  to  seek  refuge  in 
flight.  The  Coadjutor  of  Fulda  acceded  to  them  with 
a  laugh.  The  smaller  towns  submitted  alleging  that 
they  had  no  spears  to  resist  the  insurgents.  Menlz, 
Treves,  Frankfort,  obtained  the  immunities  on  which 
they  had  insisted. 

Throughout  the  Empire,  a  wide-spreading  revolu- 
tion was  in  full  career.  The  ecclesiastical  and  secular 
privileges,  which  bore  so  heavily  on  the  peasantry,  were 
to  be  suppressed  ;  church  property  was  to  be  diverted 
to  secular  uses,  to  indemnify  the  chiefs,  and  meet  the 
exigencies  of  the  state ;  taxes  were  to  be  abolished, 
with  exception  of  a  tribute  payable  every  ten  years  ; 
the  power  of  the  Emperor,  as  recognized  by  the  New 
Testament,  was  to  be  maintained  supreme  ;  all  other 
reigning  princes  were  to  come  down  to  the  level  of 
citizens  ;  sixty-four  free  courts  were  to  be  instituted, 
and  men  of  all  ranks  to  be  eligible  as  judges  ;  all  con- 
ditions were  to  return  to  their  primitive  positions  ;  the 
clergy  were  to  be  restricted  to  the  pastorship  of  their 
several  churches  ;  princes  and  nights  were  to  be  de- 
fenders of  the  weak ;  uniform  weights  and  measures 
were  to  be  introduced  ;  and  one  coin  to  be  struck,  and 
be  the  only  currency  of  the  whole  Empire. 

Meanwhile  the  nobles  were  recovering  from  their 
first  stupor,  and  George  Truchsess,  commander-in-chief 
of  ihe  Imperial  forces,  advanced  in  the  direction  of  the 
lake  of  Constance.  On  the  7th  of  May,  he  drove  back 
the  peasants  at  Beblingen,  and  directed  his  march  up- 
on the  town  of  Weinsberg,  where  the  unfortunate  Count 
of  Helfenstein  had  lost  his  life.  He  set  fire  to  it,  and 
burned  it  to  the  ground,  giving  orders  that  its  ruins 
should  be  left  as  a  lasting  memorial  of  the  treason  of 
its  inhabitants.  At  Furfield,  he  effected  a  junction  with 
the  Elector  Palatine  and  the  Elector  of  Treves,  and 
the  combined  army  advanced  upon  Franconia. 

The  Frauenberg,  the  citadel  of  Wurtzburg,  had  held 
out  for  the  cause  of  the  nobles,  and  the  main  army  of 
the  peasants  still  lay  before  its  walls.  On  receiving 
intelligence  of  the  approach  of  Truchsess,  they  resolv- 
ed on  an  assault,  and  on  the  15th  of  May,  at  nine  in 
tho  evening,  the  trumpets  sounded,  the  tri-colour  Hag 
was  unfurled,  and  the  peasants  rushed  to  the  assault 
with  frightful  shouts.  Sebastin  Rotenhan,  one  of  the 
staunches!  partisans  of  the  Reformation,  was  command- 
ant in  the  castle.  He  had  organized  the  means  of  de- 
fence on  an  efficient  footing,  and  when  he  harangued 
the  soldiers,  and  exhorted  them  to  repel  the  attack,  they 
had  all  sworn  to  do  so,  raising  their  three  fingers  to 
wards  heaven.  A  fierce  struggle  ensued.  The  reck- 
less and  despairing  efforts  of  the  peasants  were  answer- 
ed from  the  walls  of  the  fortress  by  petards  and  show- 
ers of  sulpher  and  boiling  pitch,  and  discharges  of  can- 
non. The  peasants,  thus  struck  by  their  unseen  ene- 
my from  behind  the  ramparts,  for  an  instant  faltered, 
but  their  fury  rose  above  it  all.  Night  closed  in,  and 
the  contest  still  raged.  The  fortress,  lighted  up  by  a  thou- 


sand battle- fires,  seemed,  in  the  darkness  of  the  night, 
to  resemble  a  towering  giant  pouring  forth  flames,  and 
contending  in  the  midst  of  bursts  of  thunder  for  the 
salvation  of  the  Empire  from  the  savage  bravery  of  in- 
furiated hordes.  At  two  in  the  morning,  the  peasants, 
failing  in  all  their  efforts,  at  last  retreated. 

They  tried  to  open  negociations  with  the  garrison, 
on  the  one  side,  and  with  Truchsess,  who  was  ap- 
proaching at  the  head  of  his  arrny,  on  the  other.  But 
negociation  was  not  their  forte.  Violence  and  con- 
quest offered  their  only  chance  of  safety.  After  some 
hesitation,  they  decided  to  advance  against  the  Impe- 
rial forces ;  but  the  cannon  and  charges  of  the  Impe- 
rial cavalry  made  fearful  havoc  in  their  ranks.  On 
reaching  Konigshofen,  they  were  completely  routed. 
Then  it  was  that  the  princes,  nobles,  and  bishops,  cruel- 
ly abusing  their  victory,  gave  loose  to  unheard-of  cruel- 
ties. Those  who  were  taken  prisoners,  were  hanged 
at  the  road-side.  The  bishop  of  Wurtzburg,  who  had 
taken  flight,  returning  to  his  diocese,  passed  over  it, 
attended  by  executioners,  who  shed,  without  distinc- 
tion, the  blood  of  rebels,  and  of  such  as  were  living 
quietly  in  subjection  to  God's  word.  Gotz  de  Berlich- 
ingen  was  sentenced  to  imprisonment  for  life.  The 
Margrave  Casimir  of  Anspach,  deprived  of  their  sight 
no  less  than  eighty  peasants,  who,  in  the  rebellion,  had 
declared,  with  an  oath,  that  their  eyes  should  never 
look  upon  that  prince, — casting  the  victims  of  their 
cruelty  on  the  wide  world,  blind,  and  holding  each  other 
by  the  hand,  to  grope  their  way,  and  beg  their  bread. 
The  unfortunate  youth  who  had  played,  on  his  fife,  the 
death-march  of  Helfenstein,  was  chained  to  a  stake,  and 

fire  lighted  round  him,  the  knights  being  present,  and 
laughing  at  his  horrid  contortions. 

Everywhere  public  worship  was  restored,  under  its 
ancient  forms.  In  the  most  flourishing  and  populous 
disricts  of  the  Empire,  the  traveller  was  horror-struck 
with  the  sight  of  heaps  of  dead  bodies  and  smoking  ruins. 
Fifty  thousand  had  perished  ;  and  almost  everywhere 
the  people  lost  what  little  liberty  they  had  previously  pos- 
sessed. Such,  in  southern  Germany,  was  the  dread- 
ful result  of  the  Revolt. 

But  the  evil  was  not  confined  to  the  south  and  west 
of  Germany.  Munzer,  after  traversing  part  of  Swit- 
zerland, Alsace,  arid  Suabia,  had  again  turned  his  steps 
toward  Saxony.  Some  townsmen  of  Mulhausen,  in 
Thuringia,  invited  him  to  their  town,  and  elected  him 
as  their  pastor.  The  town-council  having  offered  re 
sistance,  Munzer  degraded  it,— appointing  another  in 
its  stead,  composed  of  his  own  friends,  and  presided 
over  by  himself.  Contemning  the  Christ  full  of  grace, 
whom  Luther  preached,  and  resolved  on  recourse  to 
violent  means,  his  cry  was, — t%  We  must  exterminate 
with  the  sword,  like  Joshua,  the  Canaanitish  nations." 
He  set  on  foot  a  community  of  goods,*  and  pillaged 
the  convents.  "  Munzer,"  wrote  Luther  toAmsdorff, 
on  the  llth  of  April,  1525,  "  Munzer  is  king  and  em- 
peror of  Mulhausen,  and  no  longer  its  pastor."  The 
lower  classes  ceased  to  work.  If  any  one  wanted 
a  piece  of  cloth,  or  a  supply  of  corn,  he  asked  his  richer 
neighbour :  if  the  latter  refused,  the  penally  was  hang- 
ing. Mulhausen  being  a  free  town,  Munzer  exercised 
his  power,  unmolested,  for  nearly  a  year.  The  revolt 
of  Southern  Germany  led  him  to  imagine  that  the  time 
was  come  to  extend  his  new  kingdom.  He  cast  some 
large  guns  in  the  convent  of  the  Franciscans,  and  exerted 
himself  to  raise  the  peasantry  and  miners  of  Mansfeld. 
"  When  will  you  shake  off  your  slumbers,"  said  he,  in 
a  fanatical  address  :  "  Arise,  and  fight  the  battle  of 
the  Lord  ! — The  time  has  come. — France,  Germany, 
and  Italy,  are  up  and  doing.  Forward,  Forward,  For- 
ward ! — Dran,  Dran,  Dran  !  Heed  not  the  cries  of 

*  Omnia  simul  comraunia.     (L.  Opj>.  xix. 


ANXIETY  AT  WITTEMBERG— THE  LANDGRAVE  TAKES  UP  ARMS 


283 


the  ungodly.  They  will  weep  like  children, — but  be 
you  pitiless — Dr&n,  Dran,  Dra.nl — Fire  burns; — let 
your  swords  be  ever  tinged  with  blood  7* — Dran,  Bran, 
Dran.  ! — Work  while  it  is  day."  The  letter  was  sign- 
ed "  Munzer,  God's  servant  against  the  ungodly." 

The  country  people,  eager  for  plunder,  flocked  in 
crowds  to  his  standard.  Throughout  the  district  of 
Mansfeld,  Stolberg,  Schwarzburgh,  Hesse,  and  Bruris 
wick,  the  peasantry  rose  en  masse.  The  convents  of 
Michelstein,  Ilsenburg,  Walkenriecl,  Rossleben,  and 
many  others  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Hartz  moun- 
tains, or  in  the  plains  of  Thuringia,  were  plundered. 
At  Reinhardsbronn,  the  place  which  Luther  had  once 
visited,  the  tombs  of  the  ancient  landgraves  were  vio- 
lated, and  the  library  destroyed. 

Terror  spread  far  and  wide.  Even  at  Wittemberg, 
some  anxiety  began  to  be  felt.  The  Doctors,  who  had 
not  feared  Emperors  nor  Pope,  felt  themselves  tremble 
in  presence  of  a  madman.  Curiosity  was  ail  alive  to 
the  accounts  of  what  was  going  on,  and  watched  every 
step  in  the  progress  of  the  insurrection.  Melancthon 
wrote — "  We  are  here  in  imminent  danger.  If  Mun- 
zer be  successful,  it  is  all  over  with  us ;  unless  Christ 
should  appear  for  our  deliverance.  Murizer's  progress 
is  marked  by  more  than  Scythian  cruelty.!  His  threats 
are  more  dreadful  than  I  can  tell  you." 

The  pious  elector  had  hesitated  long  what  steps  he 
should  take.  Munzer  had  exhorted  him,  as  well  as  the 
other  reigning  princes,  to  be  converted  :  "  For,"  said 
he,  *'  their  time  is  come  :  and  he  had  signed  his  letters 
— "  Munzer,  armed  with  the  sword  of  Gideon."  It  was 
Frederic's  earnest  desire  to  try  gentle  methods  for  re- 
claiming these  deluded  men.  Dangerously  ill,  he  had 
written,  on  the  14th  of  April,  to  his  brother  John — 
"  Possibly  more  than  one  cause  for  insurrection  has 
been  given  to  these  wretched  people.  Oh,  in  many 
ways  are  the  poor  oppressed  by  their  temporal,  as  well 
as  by  their  spiritual  rulers  !"  And  when  his  council- 
lors adverted  to  the  humiliation,  confusions,  and  dan- 
gers to  which  he  would  expose  himself  by  neglecting 
to  stifle  the  rebellion  in  its  infancy,  he  made  answer — 
"  In  my  time,  I  have  been  a  potent  elector  with  horses 
and  chariots  in  great  abundance,  if,  at  this  time,  God 
will  take  them  away,  I  will  go  on  foot."t 

Philip,  the  young  Landgrave  of  Hesse,  was  the  first 
of  the  reigning  princes  who  took  up  arms.  His  knights 
and  retainers  swore  to  live  or  die  with  him.  Having 
put  the  affairs  of  his  states  in  order,  he  moved  toward 
Saxony.  On  their  side,  Duke  John,  the  elector's  bro- 
ther, Duke  George,  of  Saxony,  and  Duke  Henry,  of 
Brunswick,  advancing,  effected  a  junction  with  the 
Hessian  troops.  As  the  combined  force  came  into 
sight,  the  peasants,  in  alarm,  took  their  station  oa  a 
bill,  and,  without  observing  any  discipline,  set  about 
constructing  a  sort  of  rampart,  composed  of  their  wa- 
gons. Munzer  had  not  even  provided  powder  for  his 
immense  guns.  No  help  appeared — the  troops  hemmed 
them  in,  and  a  panic  spread  through  the  rebel  host. 
The  princes,  through  motives  of  humanity,  proposed  to 
them  to  capitulate — and  they  showed  signs  of  willing- 
ness U>do  so.  Then  it  was,  that  Munzer  had  recourse 
to  the  most  powerful  lever  of  enthusiasm  :  "  This  day," 
said  he,  "  this  day  we  shall  behold  the  mighty  arm  of 
God,  and  destruction  shall  fall  upon  our  enemies  !" 
Just  at  that  moment  a  rainbow  was  seen  in  the  clouds 
— and  the  fanatic  multitude,  whose  standard  bore  the 
representation  of  a  rainbow,  beheld  in  it  a  sure  omen 
of  the  Divine  protection.  Munzer  took  advantage  of 

»  Lasset  eucr  Schwerdt  nichtkalt  werden  von  Blut.  (L. 
Opp.  xix.  289.) 

•f  Moncerus  plus  quam  Scythicam  crudelitatem  prse  se  fert. 
(Corp,  Kef.  i.  p.  74 1.) 

J  So  wolle  er  hiukvinftig  zu  fuss  gehen.  (Seek.  p.  695.) 


it:  "  Never  fear,"  said  he  to  the  burghers  and  peasant- 
ry;  "I  will  receive  all  their  balls  in  my  sleeve  ,"*  and 
at  the  same  moment,  he  gave  direction  that  a  young 
gentleman,  Maternus  Geholfen,  an  envoy  from  the 
princes,  should  be  cruelly  put  to  death,  in  order  that 
the  rebels  might  thus  know  themselves  beyond  the 
hope  of  pardon. 

The  Landgrave  harangued  his  soldiers — "  I  well 
know,"  said  he,  "  that  we  princes  are  often  to  blame — 
for  we  are  but  men  ;  but  it  is  God's  will  that  the  pow- 
ers that  be  should  be  respected.  Let  us  save  our 
wives  and  children  from  the  fury  of  these  murderers. 
The  Lord  will  give  us  the  victory,  for  hath  He  not  said, 
'  He  that  resisteth  the  power,  resisteth  the  ordinance 
of  God.'  "  Philip  then  gave  the  signal  for  the  attack. 
It  was  the  15th  of  May,  1525.  The  army  put  itself 
in  motion — but  the  crowd  of  peasants  standing  still, 
struck  up  the  hymn,  "Corne,  Holy  Spirit" — expect- 
ing heaven  to  interpose  in  their  behalf.  But  the  ar- 
tillery soon  opened  a  breach  in  their  rude  fortification, 
and  scattered  confusion  and  death  in  their  midst.  On 
this,  their  fanaticism  and  resolution  at  once  forsook 
them  ;  a  panic  spread  throughout  their  host,  and  break- 
ing from  their  ranks  they  fled  in  the  utmost  disorder. 
Five  thousand  were  slain  in  the  pursuit.  After  the 
battle  the  princes  and  their  victorious  troops  entered 
Frankenhausen.  A  soldier,  who  had  mounted  lo  the 
loft  of  the  house  in  which  he  was  quartered,  perceived 
a  man  crouching  in  concealment.!  "  Who  are  you  ?" 
demanded  he  ;  '*  are  you  one  of  the  rebels  ?" — then 
catching  sight  of  a  writing  case,  he  opened  it,  and 
found  therein  letters  addressed  to  Thomas  Munzer — 
"  Is  that  your  name?"  inquired  the  trooper. — "  No," 
answered  the  sick  man.  But  the  soldier,  uttering 
dreadful  threats,  Munzer — For  he  it  was — confessed 
he  was  the  man.  "  You  are  my  prisoner,"  rejoined 
the  other.  Being  taken  before  Duke  George  and  the 
Landgrave,  Munzer  persisted  in  maintaining  that  he 
was  justified  in  chastising  the  nobles,  since  they  were 
opposers  of  the  gospel.  "  Wretch  !"  said  they,  "  think 
of  those  whose  death  thou  hast  occasioned."  But  he 
made  answer,  smiling  in  the  midst  of  his  anguish, 
"  They  would  have  it  so."  He  took  the  sacrament 
under  one  kind,  and  was  beheaded  on  the  same  day  as 
his  Lieutenant,  Pfeiffer.  Mulhausen  was  taken,  and 
the  peasant  loaded  with  chains. 

One  of  the  nobles,  who  had  remarked  in  the  crowd 
of  prisoners  a  peasant  whose  appearance  interested 
him,  drew  near,  and  said — "  Well,  my  boy,  what  go- 
vernment is  most  to  your  mind — the  peasant's  or  the 
prince's  1"  The  poor  youth  sighing  deeply,  replied — 
"Ah,  my  dear  lord,  no  edge  of  sword  inflicts  such 
suffering  as  the  rule  of  a  peasant  over  his  fellow."t 

What  remained  of  the  rebellion  was  quenched  in 
blood  :  Duke  George  was  particularly  inflexible.  lu 
the  states  of  the  elector,  there  were  neither  executions 
nor  punishments  ;§  God's  word,  preached  in  its  purity, 
had  been  proved  sufficient  to  control  the  tumultuous 
passions  of  the  people. 

In  truth,  Luther  had,  from  its  very  beginning,  with- 
stood the  rebellion  :  which  to  him  appeared  the  fore- 
runner of  final  judgments.  He  had  spared  neither 
advice,  entreaties,  nor  irony.  To  the  twelve  articles 
which  the  rebels  had  drawn  up  at  Erfurth,  he  had  sub- 
joined as  a  thirteenth:  "  Item,  the  following  article 
omitted  above.  From  this  day  forth  the  honourabla 
council  shall  be  powerless — its  functions  shall  be  to 

*  Ihr  sollt  sehen  dass  ich  alle  Biichsesteine  ia  Ermel  fas. 
sen  will.  (L.  Opp.  xix.  p.  297.) 

f  So  findet  er  einen  am  Bett. 

J  Kein  Messer  scherpfer  schirrt  denn  wenn  ein  Baur  dea 
andern  Herr  wird.  (Mathesius,  p  43.) 

5)  Hie  nulia  carnificina,  nullum  gupplicium.  (Corp.  Kef,  I. 
p  76-2.) 


284 


A  "THIRTEENTH"  ARTICLE— RISE  OF  THE  NEW  CHURCH. 


do' nothing — it  shall  sit  as  an  idol  or  as  a  log — the 
commune  shall  chew  its  meat  for  it,  and  it  shall  govern 
bound  hand  and  foot.  From  this  day,  the  wagon  shall 
guide  the  horses,  the  horses  shall  hold  the  reins,  and 
all  shall  go  on  prosperously,  in  conformity  with  the 
glorious  system  set  forth  in  the  foregoing  articles." 

Luther  was  not  satisfied  with  using  his  pen.  Just 
when  the  confusion  was  at  its  height,  he  left  Wittem- 
burg,  and  traversed  some  of  the  districts  where  the 
agitation  was  greatest.  He  preached,  he  laboured  to 
soften  the  hearts  of  his  hearers,  and  being  strengthened 
from  above  in  his  work,  he  guided,  quieted,  and 
brought  back  into  their  accustomed  channels,  the  im- 
petuous and  overflowing  torrents. 

The  reformed  teachers  everywhere  exerted  a  similar 
influence.  At  Halle,  Brentz,  by  the  povver  of  the  di- 
vine promises,  revived  the  drooping  sprits  of  its  inhab- 
itants, and  four  thousand  of  the  peasants  fled  before 
six  hundred  of  its  citizens.*  At  Ichterhausen,  where 
a  body  of  peasants  had  met,  intending  to  demolish 
certain  castles,  and  putting  their  owners  to  death, 
Frederic  Myconious  ventured  alone  among  them,  and 
such  was  the  power  of  his  eloquence,  that  they  at  once 
abandoned  their  purpose  t 

Such  was  the  part  taken  by  the  reformers  and  the 
reformation  during  the  continuance  of  the  revolt.  They 
contended,  as  far  as  they  were  enabled,  by  the  sword 
of  the  Word,  and  boldly  asserted  the  principles  which 
alone  have  power  at  all  times  to  preserve  order  and 
subjection  among  nations.  Hence  we  find  Luther  as- 
serting, that  if  the  wholesome  influence  of  sound  doc- 
trine had  not  withstood  the  madness  of  the  people,  the 
revolt  would  have  extended  its  ravages  far  more  wide- 
ly, and  would  everywhere  have  overturned  both  church 
and  state.  Every  thing  inclines  us  to  believe  that 
this  melancholy  anticipation  would  have  been  realized. 

If,  as  we  have  seen,  the  reformers  stood  up  against 
sedition,  they  nevertheless,  did  not  escape  without  be- 
ing wounded.  That  moral  agony  which  Luther  had 
first  undergone  in  his  cell  at  Erfurth,  was  perhaps  at 
its  height  after  the  revolt  of  the  peasants.  On  the 
side  of  the  princes  it  was  repealed,  and  in  many  quar- 
ters believed,  that  Luther's  teaching  had  been  the 
cause  of  the  rebellion  ;  and,  groundless  as  was  the 
charge,  the  reformer  could  not  but  feel  deeply  affected 
by  the  credit  attached  to  it.  On  the  side  of  the  peo- 
ple, Munzer  and  all  the  leaders  of  the  sedition  repre- 
sented him  as  a  vile  hypocrite  and  flatterer  of  the 
great, J  and  their  calumnies  easily  obtained  belief. 
The  strength  with  which  Luther  had  declared  against 
the  rebels,  had  given  offence  even  to  men  of  moderate 
opinions.  The  partisans  of  Rome  exulted  ;$  all  seem- 
ed against  him,  and  he  bore  the  indignation  of  that 
generation :  but  what  most  grieved  him  was,  that  the 
work  of  heaven  should  be  thus  degraded  by  being 
classed  with  the  dreams  of  fanatics.  He  contemplated 
the  bitter  cup  presented  to  him,  and  foreseeing  that 
ere  long  he  would  be  forsaken  by  all,  he  exclaimed, 
"  Soon  shall  I  also  have  to  say,  «  AH  ye  shall  be  offend- 
ed because  of  me  in  that  night  1*  " 

Yet  in  the  midst  of  this  bitter  experience,  his  faith 
was  unshaken.  "  He,"  said  he,  "  who  has  enabled 
me  to  tread  the  enemy  under  foot  when  he  came  against 
me  as  a  roaring  lion,  will  not  suffer  that  enemy  to  crush 
me,  now  that  he  approaches  with  the  treacherous  leer 
of  the  basilisk.  II  I  mourn  over  the  late  calamities. 

*  Eorum  animos  fractos  et  perturbatos  verbo  Dei  erexit. 

(M.  Adam.  Vit.  Brentii.  p.  441.) 
f  Agmen  rusticorum  qui  convenerant  ad  demoliendas  ar- 

ccs,  unica  oratione  sic  compescuit.     (M.  Adam.  Vit.  Fred. 

Myconii,  p  178.) 

1  Quod  adulator  principnm  vocer     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  671.) 
\  Gaudent  papistic  de  nostro  dissidio.    (Ibid.  p.  612.) 
|  Qui  cum  toties  hactenus  sub  pedibus  meis  calcavit  et  con 


Again  and  again  have  I  asked  myself  whether  it  might 
not  have  been  better  to  have  allowed  the  Papacy  to 
pursue  its  course  unmolested,  rather  than  be  a  wit- 
ness to  the  breaking  out  of  such  commotions.  But 
no — it  is  better  to  have  extricated  a  few  from  the  jaws 
of  the  devil,  than  that  all  should  be  left  under  his  mur- 
derous fangs."* 

At  this  period  we  must  note  the  completion  of  that 
change  in  Luther's  views  which  had  commenced  at  the 
time  of  his  return  from  the  Wartburg,  A  principle  of 
internal  life  no  longer  satisfied  him  v  the  Church  and 
her  institutions  assumed  a  high  importance  in  his  esti- 
mate. The  fearlessness  with  which  he  had  thrown 
down  all  that  stood  in  the  way  of  his  reforms,  drew 
back  in  the  prospect  of  a  work  of  destruction,  far  more 
radical  and  sweeping:  he  felt  the  necessity  for  pre- 
serving, ruling,  building  up — and  it  was  in  the  centre 
of  the  blood-watered  ruins  with  which  the  war  of  the 
peasants  had  covered  Germany,  that  the  structure  of 
the  new  Church  rose  slowly  from  its  foundations. 

The  troubles  we  have  been  narrating  left  a  deep  and 
enduring  impression  on  the  minds  of  that  age.  Na- 
tions were  struck  with  consternation.  The  masses 
who  had  sought  in  the  Reformation  nothing  but  politi- 

1  freedom,  withdrew  from  it  of  their  own  accord, 
when  they  saw  that  spiritual  liberty  was  the  only  liberty 
t  offered  Luther's  opposition  to  the  peasants  involved 
the  renunciation  of  the  inconstant  favour  of  the  people. 
It  was  not  long  before  a  seeming  tranquillity  was  re- 
stored, and  the  silence  of  terror!  succeeded  to  the  out- 
breaks of  enthusiasm  and  sedition. 

Thus  the  popular  passions,  the  cause  of  revolution, 
and  radical  equality,  were  quelled  and  passed  away  ; 
but  the  Reformation  did  not  pass  away.  The  two 
movements,  by  many  confounded  with  each  other, 
were  exhibited  in  the  distinctness  of  their  character 
by  the  diversity  of  their  results.  The  revolt  was  a 
thing  of  earthly  origin,  the  Reformation  was  from  above 
— some  cannon  and  soldiers  sufficed  to  put  down  the 
former,  but  the  latter  never  ceased  to  grow  and 
strengthen,  in  spite  of  the  reiterated  assaults  of  the  im- 
perial or  ecclesiastical  powers. 

And  yet  the  cause  of  the  Reformation  itself  seemed 
likely  to  perish  in  the  gulf  in  which  the  liberties  of 
the  people  were  lost.  A  melancholy  event  appeared 
likely  to  hasten  its  ruin.  At  the  time  the  princes  were 
in  full  march  against  Munzer,  and  ten  days  before  the 
final  defeat  of  the  peasants,  the  aged  Elector  of  Sax- 
ony, the  man  whom  God  had  raised  up  to  defend  the 
Reformation  against  external  dangers,  descended  to 
the  tomb. 

His  strength  had  been  daily  declining  ;  and  his  feel- 
ing heart  was  wrung  by  atrocities  which  stained  the 
progress  of  the  war  of  the  peasants.  "  Oh  !"  cried  he, 
with  a  deep  sigh,  "  if  it  were  the  will  of  God,  I  would 
gladly  be  released  from  this  life.  I  see  nothing  left, 
neither  love,  truth,  or  faith,  or  anything  good  upon  thi* 
earth.":}: 

Turning  from  the  thought  of  the  confusions  that 
prevailed  throughout  Germany,  the  pious  prince  quietly 
prepared  himself  to  depart.  He  had  taken  up  his  abode 
in  his  castle  of  Lochau.  On  the  4ihof  May,  he  asked 
for  his  chaplain,  the  faithful  Spalatin  :  "  You  do  well 
to  visit  me,"  said  he  to  him  as  he  entered  the  room, 
"  for  it  is  well  to  visit  the  sick."  Thendirecting  that 
his  couch  should  be  moved  toward  the  table  where 
Spalatin  was  seated,  he  desired  his  attendants  to  leave 

trivit  leonem  et  draconem,  non  sinet  etiam  basiliscum  super 
me  calcare.  (Ibd.  p.  671.) 

*  Es  ist  besser  einige  aus  dem  Rachen  des  Teufels  heraus- 
reissen.  (L.  Opp.  ii.  Ed.  ix.  p.  961.) 

f  Ea  res  incussit  ....  vulgo  terrorem,  ut  nib.il  usquam 
moveatur.  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  752.) 

J  Noch  etwas  gutes  mehr  in  de  Welt.    (Seckend.  p.  708.) 


THE  ELECTOR  AND  THE  REFORMER— DUKE  GEORGE'S  CONFEDERACY.   285 


the  room,  and  affectionately  taking  his  friend's  hand, 
spoke  to  him  familiarly  of  Luther,  of  the  peasants,  and 
of  his  approaching  end.  At  eight  that  same  evening 
Spalatia  returned  ;  the  aged  prince  opened  his  mind 
to  him,  and  confessed  his  sins,  in  the  presence  of  God. 
The  next  morning,  the  5th,  he  received  the  commu- 
nion under  both  kinds.  No  member  of  his  family  was 
present :  his  brother  and  his  nephew  had  both  left 
with  the  army  ;  but  according  to  the  ancient  custom 
of  those  times,  his  domestics  stood  round  the  bed  gaz 
ing  in  tears*  upon  the  venerable  prince  whom  it  had 
been  their  sweet  pleasure  to  serve  :  "  My  little  chil- 
dren," said  he,  tenderly,  "  if  I  have  offended  any  one 
of  you,  forgive  me  for  the  love  of  God  ;  for  we  princes 
often  offend  against  such  little  ones,  and  it  ought  not  so 
to  be."  In  this  way  did  Frederic  conform  himself  to 
the  apostle's  direction  that  the  rich  humble  himself 
when  he  is  brought  low,  '*  because  as  the  flower  of  the 
grass  he  shall  pass  away."f 

Spalatin  never  left  him.  He  set  before  him  with 
glowing  earnestness  the  giorious  promises  of  the  Gos- 
pel ;  and  the  pious  Elector  drank  in  its  strong  conso- 
lations with  unspeakable  peace.  That  evangelic  doc- 
trine was  then  to  his  soul  no  longer  a  sword,  turned 
against  false  teaching,  searching  it  in  all  its  refuges  of 
lies,  and  triumphing  over  it  at  every  turn  :  it  was  a 
shower — a  gentle  dew,  distilling  on  his  heart,  and 
causing  it  to  overflow  with  hope  and  joy.  God  and 
eternity  were  alone  present  to  his  thought. 

Feeling  his  death  rapidly  drawing  nigh,  he  destroyed 
a  will  he  had  made  some  years  before,  in  which  he 
had  commended  his  soul  to  "  the  Mother  of  God,''  and 
dictated  another  in  which  he  cast  himself  on  the  spot- 
less and  availing  merit  of  Jesus  Christ  «'  for  the  for- 
giveness of  his  sins,"  and  expressed  his  firm  assurance 
that  "  he  was  redeemed  by  the  precious  blood  of  his 
beloved  Saviour. "J  This  done,  he  added — "  My 
strength  fails  me,  I  can  say  no  more  ;"  and  at  five  the 
same  evening  he  "  fell  asleep."  "  He  was  a  son  of 
Peace,"  remarked  his  physician,  "and  in  peace  he  is 
departed." — "  Oh  !"  said  Luther,  "  how  bitter  to  his 
survivors  was  that  death. "$ 

It  is  remarkable  that  Luther,  who  just  at  that  time 
was  on  a  mission  of  peace,  trying  to  alley  the  excite- 
ment left,  by  recent  events,  on  the  minds  of  the  peo- 
ple of  Thuringia,  had  never  seen  the  Elector,  but  at 
a  distance — as  at  Worms,  when  the  latter  was  seated 
beside  Charles  the  Fifth.  But  from  the  moment  the 
Reformation  appeared,  these  two  remarkable  men  had 
been  together  in  spirit.  Frederic  in  quest  of  the  na- 
tional interest  and  independence — Luther  in  quest  of 
truth  arid  reformation.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that  the 
Reformation  was,  in  principle,  a  work  of  the  Spirit ; 
but,  in  order  to  its  gaining  footing  on  the  earth,  it  was 
perhaps  necessary  that  it  should  be  linked  with  a  some- 
thing connected  with  the  interests  of  the  nation. 
Hence — no  sooner  had  Luther  stood  up  against  indul- 
gences, than  the  alliance  between  the  monk  and  the 
prince  was  tacitly  concluded — an  alliance  in  its  nature 
simply  moral,  without  form  of  contract,  without  writ- 
ing, without  even  verbal  communication — an  alliance 
in  which  the  stronger  lent  no  aid  to  the  weaker  party, 
but  that  which  consisted  in  leaving  htm  unmolested  to 
his  work.  But  now  that  the  mighty  oak,  under  the 
shelter  of  which  the  Reformation  had  grown  up,  was 
felled  to  the  dust — now  that  the  opposers  of  the  Gos- 
pel gave  more  free  expression  to  their  hatred,  and  its 
supporters  were  obliged  to  retire  or  to  be  silent,  it 

*  Dass  alle  Umstehende  zum  weinen  bewegt.     (Ibid.) 
|  St  James,  1  ch.  10th  ver. 

}  Dttrch  das  theure  Blut  meines  allerliebsten  Heylandes 
erloset.     (Seek,  p  703.) 
4  O  mors  amara  ?    (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  659.) 


seemed  as  if  nothing  was  left  to  defend  it  against  the 
sword  of  those  who  were  pursuing  it. 

The  conferderates  of  Ratisbon,  after  the  complete 
defeat  of  the  peasants  of  the  southern  and  western  pro- 
vinces, proceeded  to  vent  their  revenge  on  the  Refor- 
mation, as  well  as  on  those  who  had  taken  part  in  the 
revolt.  At  Wurtzburg,  at  Bamberg,  inoffensive  citi- 
zens were  put  to  death, — including  some  who  had  even 
opposed  themselves  to  the  peasants.  "  It  matters  not," 
it  was  openly  said,  "  they  were  of  the  Gospellers," 
— and  they  were  beheaded.* 

Duke  George  sought  opportuninty  to  infuse  into  the 
minds  of  the  Landgrave  and  Duke  John  his  own  preju- 
dices and  antipathies.  "  See,"  said  he,  after  the  rout 
of  the  peasants,  pointing  to  the  field  of  carnage,  "  what 
miseries  Luther  has  occasioned."  John  and  Philip 
showed  signs  of  acquiescence.  "  Duke  George,"  re- 
marked the  Reformer,  "  flatters  himself  he  shall  suc- 
ceed, now  that  Frederic  is  dead;  but  Christ  still  reigns 
in  the  midst  of  his  enemies.  Gnash  their  teeth  as  they 
will,  the  desire  of  them  shall  perish."t 

George  lost  no  time  in  informing,  in  northern  Ger- 
many, a  confederacy  similar  to  that  of  Ratisbon.  The 
Electors  of  Menlz  and  Brandenburg, — Dukes  Henry, 
Eris,  and  George,  assembled  at  Dessau,  and  these  con- 
cluded a  treaty  of  alliance  in  the  interest  of  Koine.  J  In 
the  month  of  July,  George  urged  the  new  Elector  and 
his  son-in-law,  the  Landgrave,  to  accede  to  it.  Then, 
as  if  to  give  intimation  of  the  objects  of  the  confedera- 
tion, he  beheaded  two  citizens  of  Leipsic,  who  had  been 
proved  to  have  in  their  possession  the  Reformer's 
writings. 

Just  at  this  time  letters  from  Charles  the  Fifth,  da- 
ted from  Toledo,  reached  Germany,  by  which  another 
Diet  was  convoked  at  Augsburg.  Charles  wished  to 
give  the  Empire  such  a  constitution  as  would  allow 
him  to  dispose,  at  will,  of  the  military  force  of  Ger- 
many. The  divisions  in  religon  favoured  his  design. 
He  had  but  to  let  loose  the  Catholics  against  the  Gos- 
pellers ;  and  when  both  should  have  exhausted  their 
strength,  he  might  gain  an  easy  victory  over  both. 
"  Away  with  the  Lutherans,"^  was  therefore  the  cry  of 
the  Emperor. 

Thus,  all  conspired  against  the  Reformation.  Never 
could  Luther's  spirit  have  been  bowed  down  by  such 
manifold  apprehensions.  The  surviving  sectaries  of 
Munzer  had  vowed  to  take  his  life.  His  sole  protec- 
tor was  no  more.  "  Duke  George,"  wrote  some,  "  in- 
tended to  arest  him  in  Wittemberg  itself."||  The 
Princes  who  could  have  defended  him,  one  after  ano- 
ther bowed  before  the  storm,  and  seemed  to  be  abandon- 
ng  the  cause  of  the  Gospel.  The  University,  already 
owered  in  credit  by  the  recent  confusions,  was,  accord- 
ng  to  rumor,  on  the  point  of  being  suppressed  by  the 
new  Elector.  Charles,  after  his  victory  at  Pavia,  had 
ust  convoked  another  Diet,  that  a  finishing  blow  might 
se  dealt  against  the  Reformation.  What  dangers,  then, 
nust  he  not  have  foreseen  ?  The  anxious  mental  strug- 
gles that  had  so  often  drawn  sobs  from  his  bosom, 
again  wrung  his  heart.  How  should  he  bear  up  against 
uch  multiplied  enemies  1  In  the  very  crisis  of  this 
agitation,  with  all  these  accumulated  dangers  staring 
urn  in  the  face, — the  corpse  of  Frederic  scarcely  cold, 
and  the  plains  of  Germany  still  strewed  with  the  un- 
)uried  bodies  of  the  peasants — Luther, — none  surely 
could  have  imagined  such  a  thing, — Luther  married  ! 
In  the  monastery  of  Nirnptsch,  near  Grimma,  in  Sax- 

»  Kanke,  Deutsche  Ges.  ii.  p.  226. 

t  Dux  Gorgius,  mortuo  Frederico,  putat  se  omnia  posse. 
L.  Epp.  iii.  p.  22.) 

I  Habito  conciliabulo  conjuraverunt  restituros  sese  esse 
omnia  . .  .  (Ibid.) 
^  Sleidan.  Hist,  de  la  Ref.  i.  p.  214. 
U  Keil.  Luther's  Leben,  p.  160. 


286 


THE  NUNS  OF  NIMPTSCH— CATHERINE  BORA— MATRIMONY. 


ony,  resided,  in  the  year  1523,  nine  nuns,  who  hac 
devoted  themselves  to  the  reading  of  God's  word,  anc 
had  discerned  the  contrast  that  existed  between  the 
Christian  life  and  the  daily  routine  of  their  cloister 
The  names  of  these  nuns  were  Magdalene  Staupitz 
Elisa  Canitz,  Ave  Grossn,  Ave  and  Margaret  Schon- 
feld,  Laneta  Golis,  Margaret  and  Catherine  Zeschau 
and  Catherine  .Bora.  The  first  step  taken  by  these 
young  women,  after  their  minds  were  delivered  from  the 
superstitions  of  their  monastery,  was  to  write  to  their 
relations — "  Our  continuance  in  a  cloister,"  said  they, 
"is  incompatible  with  the  salvation  of  our  soul.' 
Their  parents,  dreading  the  trouble  such  a  resolution 
was  likely  to  occasion  to  themselves,  repelled  with 
harshness  the  entreaties  of  their  children.  The  poor 
nuns  were  overwhelmed  with  distress.  How  to  leave 
their  nunnery  !  their  timidity  took  alarm  at  so  desperate 
a  decision.  At  last,  their  horror  of  the  Papal  services 
prevailed,  and  they  mutually  promised  not  to  part 
company,  but  together  to  find  their  way  to  some  re- 
spectable quarter  with  decency  and  order,  t  Two  re- 
spected and  pious  citizens  of  Torgau,  Leonard  Koppe 
and  Wolff  Tomitzch,  tendered  their  assistance} — they 
welcomed  it  as  of  God's  sending,  and  quitted  the  con- 
vent of  Nimptsch  without  any  hinderance  being  inter- 
posed, as  if  the  hand  of  the  Lord  set  open  its  gates. $ 
Koppe  and  Tomitzch  were  in  waiting  to  receive  thorn 
in  their  wagon — and  on  the  7th  of  April,  the  nine 
nuns,  amazed  at  their  own  boldness,  drew  up  in  deep 
emotion  at  the  gate  of  the  old  convent  of  the  Augus- 
tines  where  Luther  resided. 

"  This  is  not  my  doing,"  said  Luther,  as  he  recei- 
ved them,  "  but  would  to  God  I  could,  in  this  way, 
give  liberty  to  enslaved  consciences,  and  empty  the 
cloisters  of  their  tenants.  A  breach  is  made,  how- 
ever."||  Several  persons  proposed  to  the  doctor  to 
receive  the  nuns  into  their  houses,  and  Catherine  Bora 
found  a  welcome  in  the  family  of  the  burgomaster  of 
"Wittemberg. 

If  Luther  had  then  before  him  the  prospect  of  any 
solemn  event,  it  was  that  he  should  be  called  to  as- 
cend the  scaffold,  not  the  steps  of  the  altar.  Many 
months  after  this,  he  answered  those  who  spoke  of  mar- 
riage— "  God  may  change  my  purpose,  if  such  be  His 
pleasure  ;  but  at  present  I  have  no  thought  of  taking  a 
wife  ;  not  that  I  am  insensible  to  the  charms  of  a  mar- 
ried life  ;  I  am  neither  wood  nor  stone  ;  but  I  every 
day  expect  death  and  the  punishment  of  a  heretic."^" 

And  yet  all  was  moving  onward  in  the  church. 
The  habits  of  monastic  life,  invented  by  man,  were  on 
all  sides  giving  place  to  the  habits  of  domestic  life, 
instituted  by  God.  On  Sunday,  the  9th  of  October, 
Luther,  on  rising,  laid  aside  his  monk's  gown,  assumed 
the  garb  of  a  secular  priest,  and  then  made  his  appear- 
ance in  the  church,  where  this  transformation  caused  a 
lively  satisfaction.  Christianity,  in  its  renewed  youth, 
hailed  with  transport  everything  that  announced  that 
the  old  things  were  passed  away. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  last  monk  quitted  the 
convent.  Luther  remained  behind ;  his  footsteps  alone 
re-echoed  in  its  long  corridors — he  sat  silent  and 
alone  in  the  refectory,  so  lately  vocal  with  the  babble 
of  the  monks.  A  speaking  silenco  !  attesting  the 
triumph  of  the  Word  of  God.  The  convent  had,  in- 
deed, ceased  to  have  any  existence.  Luther,  toward 
the  end  of  December,  1524,  transmitted  to  the  Elec- 
tor the  keys  of  the  monastery,  together  with  a  mes- 

*  Der  Scelen  Seligkeit  halber.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  323.) 

f  Mit  aller  Zucht  und  Ehre  an  redliche  Statte  und  Orte  kom- 
men.  (Ibid.  p.  322) 

i  Per  honestos  cives  Torgavienses  adducta?.     (Ibid  p.  319.) 

^  Mirabilitor  evasernnt.     (Ibid.) 

||  Und  alle  Kloster  ledig  machen.     (Ibid,  p  322.) 

IT  Cum  expec-.tam  quotidie  mortem  et  meritum  haeretici  sup 
plicium.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  670,  30th  Nov.  1524.; 


sage;  that  himself  would  see  where  it  might  be  God's 
will  to  feed  him.*  The  Elector  made  over  the  con- 
vent to  the  university,  and  desired  Luther  to  continue 
to  reside  in  it.  The  abode  of  the  monks  was,  ere  long, 
to  become  the  home  of  a  Christian  family. 

Luther,  who  had  a  heart  happily  constituted  for  re- 
lishing the  sweetness  of  domestic  life,  honoured  and 
loved  the  carriage  state.  It  is  even  likely  that  he 
had  some  preference  for  Catherine  Bora.  For  a  long' 
while  his  scruples  and  the  though  t  of  the  calumnies  which 
such  a  step  would  occasion,  had  hindered  his  thinking 
of  her  ;  and  he  had  offered  the  hand  of  poor  Catherine 
first  to  Baumgartner  of  Numerberg.t  and  afterwards 
to  Doctor  Glatz,  of  Orlamund.  But  when  Baum- 
gartner declined,  and  Catherine  herself  refused  Glatz, 
he  began  more  seriously  to  consider  whether  he  him- 
self ought  not  to  think  of  making  her  his  wife. 

His  aged  father,  who  had  been  so  much  grieved  when 
he  first  took  upon  him  the  profession  of  an  ecclesiastic, 
urged  him  to  marry.J  Bat  one  thought  above  all  was 
present  in  much  power  to  the  conscience  of  Luther. 
Marriage  is  God's  appointment — celibacy  is  man's. 
He  abhorred  whatever  bore  the  stamp  of  ilome.  "  I 
desire,"  said  he,  to  his  friends,  "  to  have  nothing  left 
of  my  papistic  life."$  Night  and  day  he  besought  the 
Lord  to  put  an  end  to  his  uncertainty.  At  last  a  thought 
came  to  break  the  last  ties  which  held  him  back.  To 
all  the  considerations  of  consistency  and  personal  obe- 
dience which  taught  him  to  apply  to  himself  that  word 
of  God — It  is  not  good  that  man  should  be  aloncll — • 
was  added  a  higher  and  more  powerful  motive.  He 
recognized,  that  if  as  a  man  he  was  called  to  the  mar- 
riage state,  he  was  also  called  to  it  as  a  Reformer. — 
This  thought  decided  him. 

'  If  that  monk  marries,"  said  his  friend,  Schurff, 
the  jurisconsult,  "he  will  cause  men  and  devils  to 
shout  with  laughter,  1F  and  bring  ruin  on  all  that  he  has 
litherto  effected."  This  remark  had  upon  Luther  an 
fleet  the  very  reverse  of  what  might  have  been  ex- 
pected. To  brave  the  world,  the  devil,  and  his  ene- 
mies, and,  by  an  act  in  man's  judgment  the  most  likely 
to  ruin  the  Reformation,  make  it  evident  that  its  tri- 
umph was  not  to  be  ascribed  to  him,  was  the  very  thing 
ie  most  of  all  desired.  Accordingly,  lifting  up  his 
head,  he  boldly  replied—4'  I'll  do  it !  I  will  play  th* 
rick  to  the  world  and  the  devil ! — I'll  content  my  fa- 
her,  and  marry  Catherine  !"  Luther,  by  his  marriage, 
broke  even  more  irrevocably  with  the  institutions  of 
he  Papacy.  He  sealed  his  doctrine  by  his  own  ex- 
imple — and  emboldened  the  timid  to  an  entire  renun- 
ciation of  their  delusions.**  Rome  had  seemed  to  be 
lere  and  there  recovering  the  ground  she  had  lost,  and 
night  have  been  indulging  in  dreams  of  victory: — but 
•ere  was  a  loud  explosion  that  carried  wonder  and  ter- 
•or  into  her  ranks,  and  discovered,  more  clearly  than 
ever,  the  courage  of  the  enemy  she  had  pictured  to 
herself  defeated  and  depressed.  "  I  am  determined," 
said  Luther,  "  to  bear  witness  to  the  Gospel,  not  by 
ny  words  alone,  but  by  my  actions.  I  am  determined, 
n  the  face  of  my  enemies,  who  already  are  triumph- 
ng  and  exulting  over  me,  to  marry  a  nun — that  they 
nay  know  that  they  have  not  conquered  me.tt  I  do 
not  take  a  wife  that  I  may  live  long  with  her  :  but, 
seeing  people  and  princes  letting  loose  their  fury  against 

*  Muss  und  will  Ich  schen  wo  mich  Gott  eniahret.     (Ibid . 

582.) 

t  Si  vis  Retain  tuam  a  Bora  tenere.     (L   Epp.  ii  p.  355). 

1  Aus  Besrehren  meines  lieben  Vaters.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  553.) 

K  Ibid,  p.  1.  II  Genesis  ii.  19. 

<T  Risuros  mnnrlum  universum  et  diabolum  ipsnm.  (IVf, 
A.d.  Vit.  Luth.  p  130. 

**  Ut  connrmem  facto  quae  docui,  tarn  muHos  invenio  pusil- 
animes  in  tanta  luce  Evangelii.  (L.  Epp.  Hi.  p.  13.) 

tf  Nonna  ducta  uxore  in  despectum  triumphantium  etcla- 
mantium  lo  I  lo  I  hostium.  (Ibid.  p.  21.) 


LUTHER'S  MARRIAGE— DOMESTIC  HAPPINESS. 


287 


me — in  the  prospect  of  death,  and  of  their  again  tram- 1 
pling  my  doctrine  under  foot,  I  am  resolved  to  edify  , 
the  weak,  by  leaving  on  record  a  striking  confirmation  j 
of  the  truth  of  what  I  have  taught."* 

On  the  llth  of  June,  Luther  repaired  to  the  house 
of  his  friend  and  colleague,  Amsdorff.  He  requested 
Pomeranus,  whom  he  dignified  with  the  special  cha- 
racter of  the  Pastor,  to  give  them  the  nuptial  benedic- 
tion. Lucas  Cranach  and  Doctor  John  Apelles  wit- 
nessed their  marriage.  Melancthon  was  not  present. 

No  sooner  had  Luther's  marriage  taken  place  than 
all  Christendom  was  roused  by  the  report  of  it.  On 
all  sides  accusations  and  calumnies  were  heaped  upon 
him.  "  It  is  incest,"  exclaimed  Henry  the  Eighth. 
"  A  monk  has  married  a  vestal  !"t  said  some.  "An- 
tichrist must  be  the  fruit  of  such  an  union,"  said  others ; 
"  for  it  has  been  predicted  that  he  will  be  the  offspring 
of  a  monk  and  a  nun."  To  which  Erasmus  made  an- 
swer with  malicious  sneer — "  If  that  prophecy  be  true, 
what  thousands  of  Antichrists  the  world  has  before 
now  seen. "|  But  while  these  attacks  were  directed 
against  Luther,  some  prudent  and  moderate  men,  in 
the  communion  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  undertook  his 
defence.  "  Luther,"  said  Erasmus,  "  has  taken  to 
wife,  a  female  of  the  noble  house  of  Bora — but  she 
brought  him  no  dowry. "$  One  whose  testimony  car- 
ries still  more  weight,  bore  witness  in  his  favour.  Phi- 
lip Melancthon,  the  honoured  teacher  of  Germany,  who 
had  at  first  been  alarmed  by  so  bold  a  step,  now  remarked 
with  that  grave  conscientiousness  which  commanded 
respect  even  from  his  enemies  :  "  If  it  is  asserted  that 
there  has  been  anything  unbecoming  in  the  affair  of 
Luther's  marriage,  it  is  a  false  slander. I!  It  is  my 
opinion,  that,  in  marrying,  he  must  have  done  violence 
to  his  inclination.  The  marriage  state,  I  allow,  is  one 
of  humility — but  it  is  also  one  of  sanctity — if  there  be 
any  sanctity  in  this  world  ;  and  the  Scriptures  every- 
where speak  of  it  as  honourable  in  God's  sight." 

At  first  Luther  was  disturbed  by  the  reproaches  and 
indignities  showered  upon  him.  Melancthon  showed 
more  than  his  usual  kindness  and  affection  toward 
him  ;^T  and  it  was  not  long  before  the  Reformer  was 
enabled  to  discern,  in  men's  opposition,  one  mark  of 
God's  approval.  "If  the  world  were  not  scandalized 
by  what  I  have  done,"  said  he,  "  I  should  have  reason 
to  fear  that  it  was  not  according  to  God's  mind."** 

Eight  years  had  elapsed  between  the  period  when 
Luther  first  preached  against  indulgences,  and  the  time 
of  his  union  with  Catherine  Bora.  It  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  attribute,  as  is  sometimes  done,  his  zeal  against 
the  corruptions  of  the  Church  to  an  eager  desire  to 
enter  into  the  marriage  state.  He  was  already  turned 
forty- two  ;  and  Catherine  had  passed  two  years  at 
Wittemberg  since  leaving  the  convent. 

Luther's  marriage  was  a  happy  one  :  "  the  greatest 
of  earthly  blessings,"  said  he,  "  is  a  pious  and  amiable 
wife — who  fears  God  and  loves  her  family,  one  with 
whom  a  man  may  live  in  peace,  and  in  whom  he  may 
repose  perfect  confidence." 

^ome  time  after,  in  writing  to  one  of  his  friends,  he 
intrmated  that  his  Catherine  might  soon  present  him 
with  a  child  :ft  and,  in  fact,  just  one  year  after  their 

*  Non  duxi  uxorera  ut  din  viverem,  sed  quod  nunc  propri 
orem  finem  meum  suspicarer.  (Ibid.  p.  32. 

f  Monachus  cum  vestali  copularetur.  (M.Ad.Vit.Luth  p.131.) 

t  Quot  Anticbristorum  millia  jam  olim  habet  mundus.  (Er- 
Epp.p-739.) 

^  Erasmus  adds  ; — Partu  maturo  sponsas  vanus  erat  rumor, 
(Er.  Epp.  p.  780,  789.) 

II  'On  i//<:ii(5of  TOUTO  xai  Sia0o\fj  eari.  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  753 
ad  Cam ) ' 

tf  flaoa  ff7rov(5»j  Kat  tuvoia.     (Ibid.) 

**  Oft'enditur  etiam  in  came  ipsius  divinitatia  ct  crcatoris,  he 
adds,  (L.  Epp.  iii.  p  32.) 

tt  61st  of  Oct.  1525.  Caterina  mea.simulat  vel  vere  implet 
illud  Genes.  3.  Tu  dolore  gravida  eils.  (L.  Epp.  iii.  p.  35.) 


marriage,  Catherine  was  delivered  of  a  boy.*  The 
charms  of  domestic  life  soon  dispelled  the  dark  clouds 
raised  around  him  by  the  wrath  of  his  adversaries. — 
His  Ketha,  as  he  called  her,  manifested  toward  him  the 
tenderest  affection,  comforting  him  when  cast  down,  by 
reciting  passages  of  the  Bible,  relieving  him  from  the 
cares  of  the  household,  sitting  by  him  in  his  intervals 
of  leisure,  while  she  worked  his  portrait  in  embroidery, 
or  reminded  him  of  the  friends  he  had  neglected  to 
write  to,  and  amused  him  by  the  simplicity  of  her  ques- 
tions. A  sort  of  dignity  seems  to  have  marked  her 
deportment,  for  Luther  occasionally  spoke  of  her  as 
"  My  Lord  Catherine."  On  one  occasion  he  said, 
jesting,  that  if  he  ever  had  to  marry  again,  he  would 
chisel  an  obedient  wife  in  stone,  for,  added  he,  "  there 
s  no  possibility  of  finding  a  real  one."  His  letters  were 
full  of  tenderness  for  Catherine,  whom  he  styled,  "  his 
dear  and  gracious  wife," — -"  his  dear  and  amiable 
Ketha."  Luther's  manner  acquired  more  playfulness 
from  the  society  of  his  Catherine  ;  and  that  happy  flow 
of  Spirits  continued  from  that  time,  and  was  never  lost 
even  in  the  most  trying  circumstances. 

Such  was  the  almost  universal  corruption  of  the  cler- 
gy, that  the  priestly  office  had  fallen  into  almost  gene- 
ral disrepute  :  the  isolated  virtue  of  a  few  faithful  ser- 
vants of  God  had  not  sufficed  to  redeem  it  from  con- 
tempt. Family  peace  and  conjugal  fidelity  were 
continually  being  disturbed,  both  in  towns  and  rural 
districts,  by  the  gross  passions  of  priests  and  monks ; 
— none  were  safe  from  their  seductions.  The  free 
access  allowed  them  to  families,  and  sometimes  even 
the  confidence  of  the  confessional,  was  basely  perverted 
into  an  opportunity  of  instilling  deadly  poison,  that 
they  might  gratify  their  guilty  desires.  The  Refor- 
mation, by  abolishing  the  celibacy  of  the  ecclesiastics, 
restored  the  sanctity  of  wedlock.  The  marriage  of  the 
clergy  put  an  end  to  an  untold  amount  of  secret  profli- 
gacy. The  Reformers  became  examples  to  their  Hocks 
in  the  most  endearing  and  important  of  all  human 
relationships — and  it  was  not  long  before  the  people 
rejoiced  to  see  the  ministers  of  religion  in  the  charac- 
ter of  husbands  and  fathers. 

On  a  hasty  view,  Luther's  marriage  had  indeed 
seemed  to  multiply  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the 
Reformation.  It  was  still  suffering  from  the  effects 
of  the  revolt  of  the  peasants  ;  the  sword  of  the  Em- 
peror and  of  the  princes  was  unsheathed  against  it ; 
and  its  friends,  the  Landgrave  Philip,  and  the  new 
Elector  John,  appeared  discouraged  and  silenced. 

Nevertheless,  this  state  of  things  was  of  no  long 
duration.  The  young  Landgrave,  ere  long,  boldly 
raised  his  head.  Ardent  and  fearless  as  Luther,  the 
manly  spirit  of  the  Reformer  had  won  his  emulation. 
He  threw  himself  with  youthful  daring  into  the  ranks 
of  the  Reformation,  while  he  at  the  same  time  studied 
its  character  with  the  grave  intelligence  of  a  thought- 
ful mind. 

In  Saxony,  the  loss  of  Frederic's  prudence  and  in- 
fluence was  but  ill  supplied  by  his  successor  ;  but  the 
Elector's  brother.  Duke  John,  instead  of  confining 
himself  to  the  office  of  a  protector,  intervened  direct- 
ly and  courageously  in  matters  affecting  religion  :  "  I 
desire,"  said  he,  in  a  speech  communicated  to  the  as- 
sembled clergy,  on  the  16th  August,  1525,  as  he  was 
on  the  point  of  quitting  Weimar,  "  that  you  will  in 
future  preach  the  pure  word  of  God,  apart  from  those 
things  which  man  has  added."  Some  of  the  older 
clergy,  not  knowing  how  to  set  about  obeying  his  di- 
rections, answered  with  simplicity — "  But  we  are  not 
forbidden  to  say  mass  for  the  dead,  or  to  bless  the 
water  and  salt!" — "  Everything— no  matter  what," 

»  Mir  meine  liebe  Kethe  einen  Hansen  Luther  bracht  hat, 
gestern  urn  zwei.  (8th  of  June,  1626.  Ibid.  p.  119.) 


288 


THE  LANDGRAVE  PHILIP— POLIANDER'S  HYMN— NEW  ORDINATION- 


— replied  the  Elector,  "  must  be  conformed  to  God's 
word." 

Soon  after,  the  young  Landgrave  conceived  the  ro- 
mantic hope  of  converting  Duke  George,  his  father- 
in-law.  Sometimes  he  would  demonstrate  the  suffici- 
ency of  the  Scriptures — another  time  he  would  expose 
the  Mass,  the  Papacy,  and  compulsory  vows.  His 
letters  followed  quick  upon  each  other,  and  the  various 
testimony  of  God's  word  was  all  brought  to  bear  upon 
the  old  Duke's  faith.* 

These  efforts  were  not  without  results.  Duke 
George's  son  was  won  to  the  new  opinions.  But 
Philip  failed  with  the  father. — "  A  hundred  years 
hence,"  said  the  latter,  "  and  you  will  see  who  is 
right." — "  Awful  speech  !"  observed  the  Elector  of 
Saxony  :  "  What  can  be  the  worth,  I  pray  you,  of  a 
faith  that  needs  so  much  previous  reflection  ?t — Poor 
Duke !  he  will  hold  back  long — I  fear  God  has  hard- 
ened his  heart,  as  Pharaoh's,  in  old  time." 

In  Philip,  the  friends  of  the  Gospel  possessed  a 
leader,  at  once  bold,  intelligent,  and  capable  of  making 
head  against  the  formidable  assaults  its  enemies  were 
planning.  But  is  it  not  sad  to  think,  that  from  this 
moment  the  leader  of  the  Reformation  should  be  a 
soldier,  and  not  simply  a  disciple  of  God's  word? 
Man's  part  in  the  work  was  seen  in  due  expansion, 
and  its  spiritual  element  was  proportionably  contracted. 
The  work  itself  suffered  in  consequence,  for  every 
work  should  be  permitted  to  develop  itself,  according 
to  the  laws  of  its  own  nature — and  the  Reformation 
was  of  a  nature  essentially  spiritual. 

God  was  multiplying  external  supports.  Already  a 
powerful  state  on  the  German  frontier — Prussia — un- 
furled with  joy  the  standard  of  the  Gospel.  The  chi- 
valrous and  religious  spirit  that  had  founded  the  Teu- 
tonic order,  had  gradually  become  extinct  with  the 
memory  of  the  ages  in  which  it  arose.  The  knights, 
intent  only  upon  their  private  interests,  had  given  dis- 
satisfaction to  the  people  over  whom  they  presided. 
Poland  had  seized  the  opportunity  to  impose  her  su- 
zerainty on  the  order.  People,  knights,  grand  master, 
Polish  influence,  were  so  many  different  interests  con- 
flicting, and  rendering  the  prosperity  of  the  country 
impossible. 

In  this  state  of  things,  the  Reformation  found  them, 
and  all  men  saw  in  it  the  only  way  of  deliverance  for 
that  unfortunate  people.  Brisman,  Speratus,  Polian- 
der,  (who  had  been  secretary  to  Eck,  at  the  timo  of 
the  Leipsic  discussion,)  and  others  besides,  preached 
the  Gospel  in  Prussia. 

One  day  a  beggar,  coming  from  the  lands  under  the 
rule  of  the  Teutonic  knights,  arrived  in  Wittemberg  ; 
and,  stopping  before  the  residence  of  Luther,  sang 
slowly  that  noble  hymn  of  Poliander's, 

"  At  length  redemption's  come."{ 

The  reformer,  who  had  never  heard  this  Christian 
hymn,  listened,  rapt  in  astonishment.  The  foreign  ac- 
cent of  the  singer  heightened  his  joy.  "  Again,  again," 
cried  he,  when  the  beggar  had  ended.  Afterward  he 
enquired  where  he  had  learned  that  hymn,  and  tears 
filled  his  eyes,  when  he  heard  from  the  poor  man  that 
it  was  from  the  shores  of  the  Baltic  that  this  shout  of 
deliverance  was  sounding  as  far  as  Wittemberg  : — 
then,  clasping  his  hands,  he  gave  thanks  to  God.§ 

In  truth  Redemption  was  come  even  thither  ! 

"  Take  compassion  on  our  weakness,"  said  the  peo- 
ple of  Prussia  to  the  Grand  Master,  "  and  send  us 

*  Rommels  Urkundenbuch.    I.  p.  2. 
f  Was  das  fur  ein  Glaube  sey,  der  einc  solche  Erfahrung 
crfordert.     (Seckend.  p.  789.) 
{  Es  ist  das  Reyl  uns  kommen  her. 
^  Dankte  Gott  mit  Freuden.    (Seek.  p.  668.) 


preachers  who  may  proclaim  the  pure  Gospel  of  Jesas 
Christ."  Albert  at  first  gave  no  answer,  but  he  en- 
tered into  parley  with  Sigismund,  king  of  Poland,  his 
uncle  and  suzerain  lord. 

The  latter  acknowledged  him  as  hereditary  Duke  of 
Prussia,*"  and  the  new  prince  made  his  entry  into  his 
capital  of  Konigsberg,  amid  the  ringing  of  bells,  and 
acclamations  of  the  inhabitants,  who  had  decorated 
their  houses,  and  strewed  their  streets  with  flowers. 
"  There  is  but  one  religious  order,"  said  Albert,  "  and 
it  is  as  comprehensive  as  Christianity  itself!"  The 
monastic  orders  vanished,  and  that  divinely  appointed 
order  was  restored. 

The  bishops  surrendered  their  secular  rights  to  the 
new  Duke  ;  the  convents  were  converted  into  hospi- 
tals ;  and  the  Gospel  carried  into  the  poorest  villages  ; 
and  in  the  year  following,  Albert  married  Dorothy, 
daughter  of  the  king  of  Denmark,  whose  faith  in  the 
one  Saviour  was  unshaken. 

The  Pope  called  upon  the  Emperor  to  take  mea- 
sures -against  the  "  apostate  "  monk  ; — and  Charles 
placed  Albert  under  interdict. 

Another  prince  of  the  house  of  Brandenburg,  the 
Cardinal-Archbishop  of  Mentz,  was  just  then  on  the 
point  of  following  his  relation's  example.  The  revolt 
of  the  peasants  was  especially  menacing  in  its  aspect 
toward  the  eclesiastical  principalities ;  the  Elector, 
Luther,  and  all  Germany  thought  a  great  revolution 
was  at  hand.  The  Archbishop  seeing  no  better  way 
to  preserve  his  principality  than  to  render  it  secular, 
privately  requested  Luther  to  sound  the  minds  of  the 
people  preparatory  to  so  decided  a  slept — which  Lu- 
ther accordingly  did,  in  a  letter  written  with  a  view  to 
its  being  made  public,  wherein  he  said  that  the  hand 
of  God  was  heavy  on  the  clergy,  and  that  nothing 
could  save  them.J  However,  the  war  of  the  peasants 
having  been  brought  to  an  earlier  termination  than  had 
been  looked  for  :  the  Cardinal  retained  possession  of 
his  temporalities — his  uneasiness  subsided,  and  al) 
thoughts  of  secularizing  his  position  were  dismissed  ! 

While  John  of  Saxony,  Philip  of  Hesse,  and  Albert 
of  Prussia,  were  openly  taking  part  with  the  Reforma- 
tion, and  thus,  in  place  of  the  cautious  Frederic,  three 
princes  of  bold  and  decided  character  were  standing 
forward  in  its  support,  the  blessed  Word  was  working 
its  way  in  the  Church,  and  among  the  nations.  Lu- 
ther besought  the  Elector  to  establish  generally  the 
preaching  of  the  Gospel  in  the  place  of  the  ministra- 
tions of  Romish  priests,  and  to  direct  a  general  visi- 
tation of  the  churches.^  About  the  same  time  at 
Wittemberg  they  began  to  exercise  the  episcopal  func- 
tion, and  ordained  ministers  ;  "  Let  not  the  Pope,  the 
bishops,  or  the  monks,  exclaim  against  us,"  said 
Melancthon,  "  we  are  the  Church  ; — he  who  separates 
from  us  separates  himself  from  the  Church.  There  is 
no  other  Church — save  the  assembly  of  those  who 
have  the  word  of  God,  and  who  are  purified  by  it."|| 

All  this  could  not  be  said  and  done  without  occa- 
sioning a  strong  reaction.  Rome  had  thought  the  Re- 
formation extinguished  in  the  blood  of  the  rebel  pea- 
sants— but  in  all  quarters  its  flame  was  rising  more 
bright  and  powerful  than  ever.  She  decided  on 
making  one  more  effort.  The  Pope  and  the  Emperor 
wrote  menacing  letters,  the  former  from  Rome,  the 
latter  from  Spain.  The  Imperial  government  took 
measures  for  restoring  the  ancient  order  of  things,  and 
preparations  were  made  for  finally  crushing  the  Refor- 
mation at  the  approaching  Diet. 

*  Sleidan.  Hist,  de  la  Ref.  p.  220. 
I  Seckend.  p.  712. 

1  Er  muss  herunter.    (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  674.) 
^  L.  Epp.  iii.p.  28,  38,  51.&C. 

||  Dass  Kirche  sey  allein  diejenige,  so  Gottes  Wort  haben 
und  damit  gereiniget  werden.  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  766k) 


DIET  AT  AUGSBURG— LEAGUE  OF  TORGAU— THE  EVANGELIC  UNION         2S9 


The  electoral  Prince  of  Saxony,  and  the  Landgrave, 
in  some  alarm,  met  on  the  7th  of  November  in  the 
castle  of  Friedewalt,  and  came  to  an  agreement  tha 
their  deputies  at  the  Diet  should  act  in  concert.  Thus 
in  the  forest  of  Sullingen  arose  the  earliest  elements 
of  an  evangelical  association  in  opposition  to  the 
leagues  of  Ratisbon  and  Dessau. 

The  Diet  opened  on  the  llth  of  December,  at 
Augsburg.  The  princes  favourable  to  the  Gospe 
were  not  present,  but  the  deputies  from  Saxony  and 
Hesse  spoke  out  fearlessly  :  "  The  rising  of  the  pea- 
sants," said  they,  "  was  the  effect  of  impolitic  and 
harsh  usage.  God's  truth  is  not  to  be  torn  from  the 
heart  by  fire  and  sword  :  if  you  are  bent  on  resorting 
to  violence  against  the  reformed  opinions,  you  will 
bring  down  upon  us  calamities  more  terrible  than 
those  from  which  we  have  but  just  escaped." 

It  was  felt  that  the  resolution  of  the  Diet  must  be 
most  important  in  its  results.  Every  one  desired,  by 
postponing  the  decisive  moment,  to  gain  time  to 
strengthen  his  own  position.  It  was  accordingly  re 
solved,  that  the  Diet  should  re-assemble  at  Spires  in 
the  month  of  May  following  ;  and  in  the  meanwhile 
the  rescript  of  Nuremberg  was  to  continue  in  force. 
41  When  the  Diet  meet  again,"  said  they,  "  we  will 
go  fully  into  the  questions  of  '  the  holy  faith- — public 
rights — and  the  general  peace.'  " 

The  Landgrave  pursued  his  plan.  Toward  the  end 
of  February,  1526,  he  had  a  conference  with  the  Elec- 
tor at  Gotha.  The  two  princes  came  to  an  understand- 
ing, that  if  attacked  on  account  of  the  word  of  God, 
they  would  unite  their  forces  to  resist  their  adversaries. 
This  alliance  was  formally  ratified  at  Torgau,  and  was 
destined  to  be  fruitful  in  important  consequences. 

However,  the  alliance  he  had  concluded  was  of  it- 
self not  enough  to  satisfy  the  Landgrave.  Convinced 
that  Charles  was  at  work  to  compact  a  league  "  against 
Christ  and  his  holy  word,"  he  addressed  letter  after 
letter  to  the  Elector,  urging  upon  him  the  necessity 
of  uniting  with  other  states  :  "  For  myself,"  said  he, 
"  rather  would  I  die  than  deny  the  word  of  God,  and 
allow  myself  to  be  driven  from  my  throne."* 

At  the  Elector's  court  much  uncertainty  prevailed. 
In  fact,  a  very  serious  difficulty  stood  in  the  way  of 
union  between  the  princes  favourable  to  the  Gospel ;  and 
this  difficulty  originated  with  Luther  and  Melancthon. 
Luther  insisted  that  the  doctrine  of  the  Gospel  should 
be  defended  by  God  alone.  He  thought  that  the  less 
man  meddled  in  the  work,  the  more  striking  would  be 
God's  intervention  in  its  behalf.  All  the  political  pre- 
cautions suggested,  were  in  his  view  attributable  to  un- 
worthy fear  and  sinful  mistrust.  Melancthon  dreaded 
lest  an  alliance  between  the  evangelical  princes  should 
hasten  that  very  struggle  which  it  was  their  object  to 
avert. 

The  Landgrave  was  not  to  be  deterred  by  such 
considerations,  and  laboured  to  gain  over  the  neigh- 
bouring states  to  the  alliance,  but  he  failed  in  his  en- 
deavours. The  Elector  of  Treves  abandoned  the 
ranks  of  the  opposition,  and  accepted  a  pension  from 
the  Emperor.  Even  the  Elector  Palatine,  whose  dis- 
position was  known  to  be  favourable  to  the  Gospel, 
declined  Philip's  advances. 

Thus,  in  the  direction  of  the  Rhine,  the  Landgrave 
had  completely  failed ;  but  the  Elector,  in  opposition 
to  the  advice  of  the  reformed  divines,  opened  negotia- 
tions with  the  princes  who  had  in  all  times  gathered 
round  the  standard  of  the  powerful  chief  of  Saxony. 
On  the  P2ih  day  of  June,  the  Elector  and  his  son,  the1 
Dukes  Philip.  Ernest,  Otho  and  Francis  of  Brunswick 
and  Lnnenburg,  Duke  Henry  of  Mecklenburg,  Prince 
Wolf  of  Anhalt,  Counts  Albert  and  Gebhard  of  Mans- 
»  Seckendorf.  p.  768. 

Nu 


feldt,  assembled  at  Magdeburg,  and  there,  under  pre- 
sidence  of  the  Elector,  they  contracted  an  alliance 
similar  to  that  of  Torgau. 

"  Almighty  God,"  said  the  princes,  "  having  in  his 
unspeakable  rnercy  again  brought  forward  among  men 
his  holy  and  eternal  word,  the  food  of  our  souls,  and 
our  richest  treasure  on  this  earth — and  great  efforts 
being  made  by  the  clergy  and  their  adherents  to  sup- 
press and  extirpate  it,  we— being  well  assured  that  He 
who  has  sent  it  forth  to  glorify  his  name  upon  earth, 
will  know  how  to  maintain  it,  mutually  engage  to  pre- 
serve that  blessed  word  to  our  people,  and  to  employ 
for  this  end  our  goods,  and  our  lives,  the  resources  of 
our  states,  and  the  arms  of  our  subjects,  and  all  that 
we  have,  putting  our  trust  not  in  our  armies,  but  solely 
in  the  almighty  power  of  the  Lord,  of  whom  we  desire 
to  be  but  the  instruments."*  So  spoke  the  princes. 

Two  days  after,  the  city  of  Magdeburg  was  received 
into  the  alliance,  and  Albert  of  Brandenburg,  the  new 
Duke  of  Prussia,  acceded  to  it  by  a  separate  conven- 
tion. 

The  Evangelic  Union  was  formed  ;  but  the  dangers 
it  was  destined  to  ward  off  seemed  every  day  to  be- 
come more  threatening.  The  priests,  and  such  of  the 
princes  as  adhered  to  rfie  Romish  party,  had  seen  the 
Reformation,  which  they  had  thought  stifled,  suddenly 
growing  up  before  them  to  a  formidable  height.  Al- 
ready the  partisans  of  the  Reformation  were  nearly  as 
numerous  as  those  of  the  Pope.  If  they  should  form 
a  majority  in  the  Diet,  the  consequences  to  the  eccle- 
siastical states  might  be  imagined.  Now  or  never  ! 
It  was  no  longer  a  heresy  to  be  refuted,  but  a  power- 
ful party  to  be  withstood.  Victories  of  a  different  kind 
from  those  of  Eck  were  needed  on  this  occasion. 

Vigorous  measures  had  been  already  taken.  The 
metropolitan  chapter  of  the  church  of  Mentz  had  con- 
voked an  assembly  of  its  suffragans,  and  adopted  the 
resolution  to  send  a  deputation  to  the  Emperor  and  the 
Pope,  entreating  them  to  interpose  for  the  deliverance 
of  the  Church. 

At  the  same  time,  Duke  George  of  Saxony,  Duke 
Henry  of  Brunswick,  and  the  Cardinal-Elector  Albert, 
bad  met  at  Halle,  and  addressed  a  memorial  to  Charles. 
"The  detestable  doctrine  of  Luther,"  said  they,  "is 
making  extensive  progress ;  every  day  attempts  are 
made  to  seduce  ourselves,  and  failing  to  persuade  us, 
they  seek  to  compel  us  by  exciting  our  subjects  to  re- 
volt. We  implore  the  Emperor's  intervention."!  On 
the  breaking  up  of  this  conference,  Brunswick  himself 
set  out  for  Spain  to  induce  Charles  to  take  the  decisive 
step. 

He  could  not  have  arrived  at  a  more  favourable  junc- 
ture :  the  Emperor  had  just  concluded  with  France  the 
arnous  peace  of  Madrid  He  seemed  to  have  nothing 
eft  to  apprehend  from  that  quarter,  and  his  undivided 
attention  was  now  directed  to  the  affairs  of  Germany. 
Francis  the  First  had  offered  to  defray  half  the  expen- 
ses of  a  war  either  against  the  heretics  or  against  the 
Turks ! 

The  Emperor  was  at  Seville  ;  he  was  on  the  eve  of 
marriage  with  a  princess  of  Portugal,  and  the  banks 
of  the  Guadalquiver  resounded  with  joyous  festivity. 
A  dazzling  train  of  nobles,  and  vast  crowds  of  people 
hronged  the  ancient  capital  of  the  Moors.  The  pomp 
and  ceremonies  of  the  Church  were  displayed  under 
he  roofs  of  its  noble  cathedral.  A  Legate  from  the 
Pope  officiated  ;  and  never  before,  even  under  Arabian 
rule,  had  Andalusia  witnessed  a  spectacle  of  more 
magnificence  and  solemnity. 

*  Allcin  auf  Gott  den  Allmachtigen,  als  dessen  Werkzeuge 
ie  bendeln.     (Hortleber,  Ursache  des  deutschcn  Krieges,  i. 
p.  1490.) 
t  Schmidt,  Deutsche  Gesch.  viii.  p.  202. 


290         THE  EMPEROR'S  MESSAGE— THE  REFORMATION  AND  THE  PAPACY. 


Just  at  that  time,  Henry  of  Brunswick  arrived  from 
Germany,  and  solicited  Charles  to  save  the  Church 
and  the  Empire  from  the  attacks  of  the  monk  of  Wit- 
temberg.  His  request  was  immediately  taken  into 
consideration,  and  the  Emperor  resolved  on  vigorous 
measures. 

On  the  23d  of  March,  1526,  he  addressed  letters  to 
several  of  the  princes  and  free  cities  that  still  adhered 
to  Rome.  He  also  specially  commissioned  the  Duke 
of  Brunswick  to  communicate  to  them  that  he  had 
learned  with  grief  that  the  continued  progress  of  Lu- 
ther's heresy  threatened  to  fill  Germany  with  sacrilege, 
havock,  and  bloodshed  ;  and  at  the  same  time,  to  ex- 
press the  great  pleasure  he  felt  in  the  fidelity  of  the 
majority  of  the  States,  and  to  acquaint  them  that,  lay- 
ing aside  all  other  business,  he  was  about  to  leave 
Spain  and  repair  to  Rome,  to  concert  measures  with 
the  Pope,  and  from  thence  to  pass  into  Germany,  and 
there  oppose  that  abominable  Wittemberg  pest  ;  ad- 
ding, that  it  behoved  them  to  continue  steadfast  in 
their  faith,  and  in  the  event  of  the  Lutherans  seeking 
to  seduce  or  oblige  them  to  a  renunciation  of  it,  to  re- 
pel their  attempts  by  a  united  and  courageous  resis- 
tance :  that  he  himself  would  shortly  be  among  them 
and  support  them  with  all  his  power.* 

When  Brunswick  returned  into  Germany,  the  Catho- 
lic party  joyully  lifted  up  their  heads.  The  Dukes  of 
Brunswick,  Pomerania,  Albert  of  Mecklenburg,  John 
of  Juliers,  George  of  Saxony,  the  Dukes  of  Bavaria, 
and  all  t^he  dignitaries  of  the  Church,  on  reading  the 
menacing  letters  of  the  conqueror  of  Francis  the  First, 
thought  their  triumph  secure.  It  was  decided  they 
should  attend  the  approaching  Diet,  and  humble  the 
d  in  the  event  of  the  latter  resist- 


heretical princes  ;  an 

ing,  quell  them  with  the  sword 


I  may  be  Elector 


*  Archives  of  Weimar.     (Seckend.  p.  768.) 


of  Saxony  any  day  I  please"*  was  an  expression  as- 
cribed by  report  to  Duke  George — words  to  which  he 
afterward  endeavoured  to  attach  another  meaning. 
"  The  Lutheran  party  cannot  long  hold  together,"  said 
his  Chancellor  to  the  Duke,  in  a  tone  of  exultation ; 
"  let  them  mind  what  they  are  about :"  and  truly  Lu- 
ther was  on  his  guard,  though  not  in  the  sense  their 
words  conveyed.  He  attentively  observed  the  designs 
of  the  opposers  of  God's  word  :  he,  like  Melancthon, 
expected  that  thousands  of  swords  would  ere  long  be 
unsheathed  against  the  Gospel.  But  he  sought  a 
strength  far  above  the  strength  of  men.  Writing  to 
Frederic  Myconius,  ho  observed,  "  Satan  is  raging  ; 
ungodly  priests  take  counsel  together,  and  we  are 
threatened  with  war.  Exhort  the  people  to  contend 
earnestly  before  the  throne  of  the  Lord,  by  faith  and 
prayer,  that  our  adversaries,  being  overcome  by  the 
Spirit  of  God,  may  be  constrained  to  peace.  The 
most  urgent  of  our  wants — the  very  first  thing  we  have 
to  do,  is  to  pray :  let  the  people  know  that  they  are  at 
this  hour  exposed  to  the  edge  of  the  sword,  and  the 
rage  of  the  devil :  let  them  pray."\ 

Thus  everything  indicated  a  decisive  conflict.  The 
Reformation  had  on  its  side  the  prayers  of  Christians, 
the  sympathy  of  the  people  and  an  ascendant  in  men's 
minds  that  no  power  could  stay.  The  Papacy  had 
with  it  the  established  order,  the  force  of  early  habit, 
the  zeal  and  hatred  of  powerful  princes,  and  the  au- 
thority of  an  Emperor  whose  dominion  extended  over 
both  hemispheres,  and  who  had  just  before  deeply  hum- 
bled the  pride  of  Francis  the  First. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  affairs  when  the  Diet  of 
Spires  was  opened.  Lot  us  now  turn  our  attention  to 
Swtizerland. 

*  Ranke,  Deutsch  Gesch.  ii  p.  349.  Rommel  Urkunden,  p. 
22. 

f  Ut  in  mediis  gladiis  et  furoribus  Satanae  posito  et  pericli- 
tanti.  (L.  Epp.  iii.  p.  100.) 


BOOK  XL 


WE  are  about  to  contemplate  the  diversities,  or,  as 
they  have  been  since  called,  variations  of  the  Reforma- 
tion. These  diversities  are  among  its  most  esseniial 
characters. 

Unity  in  diversity,  and  diversity  in  unity— is  a  law 
of  Nature,  and  also  of  the  Church. 

Truth  may  be  compared  to  the  light  of  the  Sun.  The 
light  comes  from  heaven  colourless,  and  ever  the  same ; 
and  yet  it  takes  different  hues  on  earth,  varying  accord- 
ing to  the  objects  on  which  it  falls.  Thus  different 
formularies  may  sometimes  express  the  same  Christian 
Truth,  viewed  under  different  aspects. 

How  dull  would  be  this  visible  creation,  if  all  its 
boundless  variety  of  shape  and  colour  were  to  give 
place  to  an  unbroken  uniformity !  And  may  we  not 
add,  how  melancholy  would  be  its  aspect,  if  all  created 
beings  did  but  compose  a  solitary  and  vast  Unity  ! 

The  unity  which  comes  from  Heaven  doubtless  has 
its  place — but  the  diversity  of  human  nature  has  its 
proper  place  also.  In  religion  we  must  neither  leave 
out  God  nor  man.  Without  unity  your  religion  can- 
not be  of  God — without  diversity,  it  cannot  be  the  reli- 
gion of  man.  And  it  ought  to  be  of  both.  Would 
you  banish  from  creation  a  law  that  its  Divine  Author 
has  imposed  upon  it,  namely — that  of  boundless  diver- 
sity 1  "  Things  without  life  giving  sound,"  said  Paul, 
"  whether  pipe  or  harp,  except  they  give  a  distinction 


in  the  sounds,  how  shall  it  be  known  what  is  piped  or 
harped  1"*  But,  if  in  religion  there  is  a  diversity,  the 
result  of  distinction  of  individuality,  and  which,  by  con- 
sequence, must  subsist  even  in  heaven — there  is  a 
diversity  which  is  the  fruit  of  man's  rebellion — and  this 
last  is  indeed  a  serious  evil. 

There  are  two  opposite  tendencies  which  may  equally 
mislead  us.  The  one  consists  in  the  exaggeration  of 
diversity — the  other,  in  extending  the  unity.  The 
greai  doctrines  of  man's  salvation  are  as  a  line  of  de- 
marcation between  these  two  errors.  To  require  more 
than  the  reception  of  those  doctrines,  is  to  disallow 
the  diversity  : — to  require  anything  less,  is  to  infringe 
the  unity. 

This  latter  departure  is  that  of  rash  and  unruly  minds 
looking  beyond,  or  out  of  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  desire  to 
set  up  systems  and  doctrines  of  men. 

The  former  appears  in  various  exclusive  sects  and 
is  more  especially  seen  in  that  of  Rome. 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  Church  to  reject  Error  from  her 
bosom.  If  this  be  neglected,  Christianity  can  not  be 
upheld  ;  but,  pushed  to  an  extreme,  it  would  follow 
that  the  Church  should  take  proceedings  against  the 
smallest  deviations,  and  intervene  in  mere  disputes 
about  words  ;  faith  would  be  silenced,  arid  Christian 
feeling  reduced  to  slavery.  Not  such  was  the  condi- 
»  1  Cor.  xiv.  7. 


SPIRITUAL  SLAVERY— CHRISTIAN  SLAVERY. 


291 


tion  of  the  Church  in  those  times  of  real  Catholicity — 
the  first  ages.  It  cast  out  the  sects  which  impugned 
the  fundamental  truths  of  the  Gospel,  but  where  these 
were  received,  it  left  full  liberty  to  faith.  Rome  soon 
departed  from  these  wise  precedents,  and,  in  proportion 
as  an  authoritative  teaching  of  man  established  itself 
within  the  Church,  there  appeared  a  unity  of  man's 
imposing. 

A  system  of  human  appointment  being  once  devised, 
rigour  went  on  increasing  from  age  to  age.  Christian 
liberty,  respected  by  the  catholicity  of  the  earliest  ages, 
was  first  limited,  then  chained,  and  finally  stifled 
Conviction,  which,  by  the  laws  of  our  nature,  as  well 
as  of  God's  word,  should  be  freely  formed  in  the  heart 
and  understanding,  was  imposed  by  external  authority, 
ready  framed  and  squared  by  the  masters  of  mankind. 
Thought,  will,  and  feeling,  all  those  faculties  of  our 
nature,  which,  once  subjected  to  the  Word  and  Spirit 
of  God,  should  be  left  free  in  their  working,  were  hin- 
dered of  their  proper  liberty,  and  compelled  to  find 
vent  in  forms  that  had  been  previously  settled.  The 
mind  of  man  became  a  sort  of  mirror  wherein  impres- 
sions to  which  it  was  a  stranger  were  reproduced,  but 
which,  of  itself,  presented  nothing  !  Doubtless  there 
were  those  who  were  taught  of  God — but  the  great 
majority  of  Christians  received  the  convictions  of  other 
men  ; — a  personal  faith  was  a  thing  of  rare  occurrence  : 
the  Reformation  it  was  that  restored  this  treasure  to 
the  Church. 

And  yet  there  was,  for  a  while,  a  space  within  which 
the  human  mind  was  permitted  to  move  at  large — 
certain  opinions,  at  least,  which  Christians  were  at 
liberty  to  receive  or  reject  at  will.  But,  as  a  besieging 
army,  day  by  day,  contracts  its  lines,  compelling  the 
garrison  to  confine  their  movements  within  the  narrow 
enclosure  of  the  fortress,  and,  at  last,  obliging  it  to 
surrender  at  discretion,  just  so,  the  hierarchy,  from  age 
to  age,  and  almost  from  year  to  year,  has  gone  on  re- 
stricting the  liberty  allowed  for  a  time  to  the  human 
mind,  until,  at  last,  by  successive  encroachments,  there 
remained  no  liberty  at  all.  That  which  was  to  be  be- 
lieved— loved — or  done — was  regulated  and  decreed 
in  the  courts  of  the  Roman  chancery.  The  faithful 
were  relieved  from  the  trouble  of  examining,  reflecting, 
and  combating  ;  all  they  had  to  do  was  to  repeat  the 
formularies  that  had  been  taught  them  ! 

From  that  period,  whenever,  in  the  bosom  of  Roman 
Catholicism,  a  man  has  appeared  inheriting  the  Ca- 
tholicity of  apostolic  times,  such  a  one,  feeling  his 
inability  to  act  out  the  life  imparted  to  him,  in  the 
bonds  in  which  he  is  held,  has  been  led  to  burst  those 
bonds,  and  give  to  the  astonished  world  another  ex- 
ample of  a  Christian  walking  at  liberty  in  the  acknow- 
ledgment of  no  law  but  the  law  of  God. 

The  Reformation,  in  restoring  liberty  to  the  Church, 
must  therfore  restore  to  it  its  original  diversity,  and 
people  it  with  families  united  by  the  great  features  of 
resemblance  derived  from  their  common  head,  but 
varying  in  secondary  features,  and  reminding  us  of  the 
varieties  inherent  in  human  nature.  Perhaps  it  might 
have  been  desirable  that  this  diversity  should  have  been 
allowed  to  subsist  in  the  Universal  Church  without 
leading  to  sectarian  divisions,  and  yet  we  must  re- 
member that  Sects  are  only  the  expression  of  this 
diversity. 

Switzerland,  and  Germany,  which  had  till  now  de- 
veloped themselvea  independently,  came  in  contact 
with  each  other  in  the  years  we  are  about  to  retrace, 
and  they  afforded  an  example  of  that  diversity  of  which 
we  have  spoken,  and  which  was  to  be  one  of  the 
characteristics  of  Protestantism.  We  shall  have  oc- 
casion to  behold  men  perfectly  agreeing  in  the  great 
doctrines  of  the  Faith,  yet  differing  on  certain  secondary 


questions.  True  it  is  that  human  passion  found  an 
entrance  into  these  discussions,  but  while  deploring 
such  minglings  of  evil,  Protestantism,  far  from  seeking 
to  disguise  the  diversity,  publishes  and  proclaims  it. 
Its  path  to  unity  is  indeed  long  and  difficult,  but  the 
unity  it  proposes  is  real. 

Zwingle  was  advancing  in  the  Christian  life.  While 
the  Gospel  had  to  Luther  brought  deliverance  from  the 
deep  melancholy  in  which  he  had  been  plunged  when 
in  the  convent  of  Erfurth,  and  developed  in  him  a 
cheerfulness  which  often  amounted  to  gaiety,  and  of 
which,  from  that  time,  the  Reformer  gave  such  repeated 
evidence,  even  when  exposed  to  the  greatest  dangers, 
Christianity  had  had  quite  a  contrary  effect  on  the  joy- 
ous child  of  the  mountains  of  the  Tockenburg.  Re- 
claiming Zwingle  from  his  thoughtless  and  worldly 
career,  it  had  stamped  upon  his  character  a  seriousness 
which  was  not  natural  to  him.  This  seriousness  was 
indeed  most  needed.  We  have  seen  how,  toward  the 
close  of  1522,  numerous  enemies  appeared  to  rise 
against  the  Reformation.*  From  all  sides  reproaches 
were  heaped  upon  Zwingle,  and  contentions  would  at 
times  take  place  even  in  the  churches. 

Leo  Juda,  who,  to  adopt  the  words  of  an  historian, 
was  a  man  of  small  stature, t  with  a  heart  full  of  love 
for  the  poor,  and  zeal  against  false  teachers,  had  ar- 
rived in  Zurich  about  the  end  of  1522,  to  take  the 
duty  of  pastor  of  St.  Peter's  church.  He  had  been 
replaced  at  Einsidlen  by  Oswald  Myconius.J  His 
coming  was  a  valuable  acquisition  to  Zwingle  and  the 
Reformation. 

One  day,  soon  after  his  arrival,  being  at  church,  he 
heard  an  Angustine  monk  preaching  with  great  earnest- 
ness that  man  was  competent,  by  his  own  strength,  to 
satisfy  the  righteousness  of  God.  *'  Reverend  father 
prior,"  exclaimed  Leo,  "listen  to  me  for  an  instant  ; 
and  you,  my  dear  fellow-citizens,  keep  your  seats — I 
will  speak  as  becomes  a  Christian  :  and  he  proceeded 
to  show  the  unscriptural  character  of  the  teaching  he 
had  just  been  listening  to.§  A  great  disturbance  en- 
sued in  the  church.  Instantly  several  persons  angrily 
attacked  the  little  priest  from  Einsidlen.  Zwingle,  re- 
pairing to  the  council,  presented  himself  before  them, 
and  requested  permission  to  give  an  account  of  his  doc- 
trine, in  presence  of  the  bishop's  deputies  ;  and  the 
council,  desiring  to  terminate  the  dissensions,  convoked 
a  conference  for  the  29th  of  January.  The  news  spread 
rapidly  throughout  Switzerland.  "  A  vagabond  diet," 
observed  his  mortified  adversaries,  *'  is  to  be  held  at 
Zurich.  All  the  vagrants  from  the  high-road  will  be 
there." 

Wishing  to  prepare  for  the  struggle,  Zwingle  put 
forth  sixty-seven  theses.  In  them  the  mountaineer  of 
the  Tonkenburg  boldly  assailed  the  pope,  in  the  face 
of  all  Switzerland. 

"  They,"  said  he,  "  who  assert  that  the  Gospel  is 
nothing  until  confirmed  to  us  by  tho  church,  blaspheme 
God." 

"Jesus  Christ  is  the  only  way  of  salvation  to  all 
who  have  been,  are,  or  shall  be." 

"  Christians  are  all  the  brethren  of  Christ,  and  of 
one  another  ;  and  they  have  no  '  fathers  '  upon  earth  : 
away,  therefore,  with  religious  orders,  sects,  and  par- 
ties/' 

•'  No  compulsion  should  be  employed  in  the  case  of 
such  as  do  not  acknowledge  their  error,  unless  by  their 
seditious  conduct  they  disturb  the  peace  of  others." 

Such  were  some  of  the  propositions  put  forth  by 
Zwingle. 

«  Vol.  II.  Book  8,  to  the  end, 

}  Er  war  ein  kurzer  Mann.     (Fiisslin  Beytrage.  iv.  p.  44.) 
j  Ut  post  habitum  Leonis,  monachis  aliquid  legam.     (Z\v. 
Epp.  p.  253.) 
§  J.  J.  Hottinger,  Helw.  Kirch.  Gesch.  iii.  p.  105. 


292       THE  CHALLENGE— ZWINGLE  AND  FABER— ZWINGLE  AND  THE  POPE. 


On  the  morning  of  Thursday,  the  29th  of  January, 
more  than  six  hundred  persons  were  collected  in  the 
hall  of  the  great  council,  at  Zurich.  Many  from  the 
neighbouring  cantons,  as  well  as  Zurichers,  the  learn- 
ed, the  higher  classes,  and  the  clergy,  had  responded 
to  the  call  of  the  council.  "  What  will  be  the  end  of 
all  this  ?  '*  was  the  question  asked.  None  ventured  to 
answer  ;  but  the  breathless  attention,  deep  feeling,  and 
agitation,  which  reigned  in  the  meeting,  sufficiently 
showed  that  important  results  were  looked  for. 

The  burgomoster,  Roust,  who  had  fought  in  the 
battle  of  Marignan,  presided  at  the  conference.  The 
knight,  James  Anwyl,  grand  master  of  the  bishop's 
court,  at  Constance,  Faber,  the  vicar-general,  and  se- 
veral doctors  of  divinity,  attended  on  the  part  of  the 
bishop.  Schauffhausen  had  deputed  Doctor  Sebastian 
Hofmeister :  he  was  the  only  deputy  from  the  cantons 
— so  weak,  as  yet,  was  the  Reformation  in  Switzer- 
land. On  a  table,  in  the  centre  of  the  hall,  was  de- 
posited a  Bible,  and  seated  before  it  was  Zwingle.  "I 
am  driven  and  beset  on  all  sides,"  he  had  said,  "  yet  I 
stand  firm,t  leaning  on  no  strength  of  my  own,  but  on 
Christ,  the  rock,  by  whose  help  I  can  do  all  things." 

Zwingle  stood  up.  "  I  have  proclaimed,"  said  he, 
"  that  salvation  is  to  be  found  in  Christ  alone  ;  and  it 
is  for  this  that,  throughout  Switzerland,  I  am  charged 
with  being  a  heretic,  a  seducer,  and  rebellious  man. 
Here,  then,  I  stand,  in  God's  name  !"J 

On  this,  all  eyes  were  turned  to  Faber,  who,  rising 
from  his  seat,  thus  replied  :  "  I  am  not  sent  to  dispute, 
but  to  report."  The  assembly,  in  surprise,  began  to 
smile.  "  The  Diet  of  Nuremberg,"  continued  Faber, 
"has  promised  a  council  within  one  year;  we  must  wait 
for  its  assembling." 

"  What !"  said  Zwingle,  "  is  not  this  large  and  in- 
telligent meeting  as  competent  as  a  council !"  then, 
turning  to  those  who  presided,  he  added — "  Gracious 
Lords  ;  defend  the  word  of  God." 

A  solemn  silence  ensued  on  this  appeal.  At  last  it 
was  interrupted  by  the  burgomaster.  "  If  any  one 
present  has  anything  to  say,"  said  he,  "  let  him  say 
on."  Still  all  were  silent.  "I  implore  all  those  who 
have  accused  me — and  I  know  that  some  are  here  pre- 
sent," said  Zwingle,  "  to  come  forward,  and  rebuke  me 
for  the  truth's  sake."  Not  a  word  !  Again  and  again 
Zwingle  repeated  his  request,  but  to  no  purpose. 
Faber,  thus  brought  to  close  quarters,  lost  sight,  for  an 
instant,  of  the  reserve  he  had  imposed  on  himself,  and 
stated  that  he  had  convicted  of  his  error  the  pastor  of 
Filispach,  who  was  at  that  time  in  durance  ;  but  hav- 
ing said  this,  he  again  relapsed  into  silence.  It  was 
all  in  vain  that  he  was  urged  to  bring  forward  the 
arguments  by  which  he  had  convinced  that  pastor ;  he 
would  give  no  answer.  This  silence  on  the  part  of 
the  Romish  doctors  mortified  the  impatience  of  the 
assembly.  A  voice  from  the  further  end  of  the  hall 
was  heard  exclaiming :  "  Where  have  they  got  to,  those 
braggarts  whose  voices  are  so  loud  in  our  streets  ?§ 
Come  forward  ;  there's  the  man  you  want."  On  this 
the  burgomaster  observed,  smiling  :  "  It  seems  that 
the  sharp-edged  sword,  that  succeeded  against  the  pas- 
tor of  Filispach,  is  fast  fixed  in  its  scabbard  ;"  and  he 
proceeded  to  break  up  the  meeting. 

In  the  afternoon,  the  parties  being  again  assembled, 
the  council  resolved  that  Master  Ulric  Zwingle,  not 
being  reproved  by  any  one,  was  at  liberty  to  continue 

*  Ein  grosses  Verwunderen,  was  doch  uss  der  Sach  werden 
•vrollte.  (Bullingcr,  Chron.  i.  p.  97.) 

t  Immptus  tamen  maneo,  non  meis  nervis  nixus,  sed  petra 
Christo  in  quo  omnia  possum.  (Z\v.  Epp  p.  261.) 

}  Nun  wohlan  in  dem  Namen  Gottes,  hie  binich.  (Bullin- 
g«r,  Chron.  p.  98.) 

^  t.  e. — the  monks.  Wo  sind  nun  die  grossen  Hansen  .  .  .  . 
(Zw.  Opp.  i.  p.  124.) 


to  preach  the  Gospel ;  and  that  the  rest  of  the  clergy 
of  the  canton  should  be  enjoined  to  advance  nothing 
but  what  they  could  establish  by  the  Scriptures. 

Thanks  be  to  God,  who  will  cause  his  word  to 
prevail  in  heaven  and  in  earth!''  exclaimed  Zwingle. 
On  this,  Faber  could  not  suppress  his  indignation. 
"  The  theses  of  Master  Ulric,"  said  he,  "  are  incom- 
patible with  the  honour  due  to  the  church,  and  opposed 
to  the  doctrine  of  Christ — and  I  can  prove  it."  "  Do 
so,"  retorted  Zwingle.  But  Faber  declined,  except  it 
should  be  in  Paris,  Cologne,  or  Friburg.  "  I  acknow- 
ledge no  authority  but  that  of  the  Gospel,"  said  Zwin- 
gle :  "  before  you  can  shake  one  word  of  that,  the 
earth  itself  will  open  before  you."*  "  That's  always 
the  cry,"  remarked  Faber  ;  "  the  Gospel,  nothing  but 
the  Gospel !  Men  might  lead  holy  lives,  in  peace  and 
charity,  if  there  were  no  Gospel  !"t  At  these  words 
the  auditors  indignantly  rose  from  their  seats,  and  the 
meeting  finally  broke  up. 

The  Reformation  was  gaining  ground.  It  was,  at 
this  period,  called  to  new  conquests.  After  the  skir- 
mish at  Zurich,  in  which  the  ablest  champions  of  the 
papacy  kept  silence,  who  could  be  so  bold  as  to  oppose 
the  new  doctrines'!  But  methods  of  another  kind 
were  tried.  The  firmness  of  Zwingle,  and  the  repub- 
lican freedom  of  his  bearing,  overawed  his  enemies. 
Accordingly,  recourse  was  had  to  suitable  methods  for 
subduing  him.  While  Rome  was  pursuing  Luther  with 
anathemas,  she  laboured  to  win  the  Reformer  of  Zu- 
rich by  persuasions.  Scarcely  was  the  conference 
closed  over,  when  Zwingle  was  surprised  by  a  visit 
from  the  captain  of  the  pope's  guards — the  son  of  the 
burgomaster  Roust,  accompanied  by  Einsius,  the  le- 
gate, who  was  the  bearer  of  a  brief  from  the  pontiff — 
in  which  Adrian  addressed  Zwingle  as  his  "  well-be- 
loved son,"  and  assured  him  of  his  special  favor.  At 
the  same  time  the  pope  set  others  upon  urging  Zink 
to  influence  Zwingle. %  "  And  what,"  inquired  Os- 
wald Myconius,  "  does  the  pope  authorise  you  to  offer 
him!"  "  Everything  short  of  the  pontiff's  chair,"§ 
answered  Zink,  earnestly." 

There  was  nothing,  whether  mitre,  crozier,  or  car- 
dinal's hat,  which  the  pope  would  not  have  given  to 
buy  over  the  Reformer  of  Zurich.  But  Rome  altoge- 
ther mistook  her  man — and  vain  were  all  her  advances. 
In  Zwingle,  the  church  of  Rome  had  a  foe  even  more 
determined  than  Luther.  He  had  less  regard  for  the 
long-established  notions  and  the  ceremonies  of  former 
ages — it  was  enough  to  draw  down  his  hostility,  that 
a  custom,  innocent  in  itself,  had  been  connected  with 
some  existing  abuses.  In  his  judgment,  the  word  of 
God  alone  was  to  be  exalted. 

But  if  Rome  had  so  little  understanding  of  the  events 
then  in  progress  in  Christendom,  she  wanted  not  for 
counsellors  to  give  her  the  needful  information. 

Faber,  irritated  at  the  pope's  thus  humbling  himself 
before  his  adversary,  lost  no  time  in  advising  him.  A 
courtier,  dressed  in  smiles,  with  honied  words  upon 
his  tongue,  those  who  listened  to  him  might  have 
thought  him  friendly  to  all,  and  even  toward  those  whom, 
he  charged  with  heresy — but  his  hatred  was  mortal. 
Luther,  playing  on  his  name  (Faber,)  was  accustomed 
to  say  :  "The  Vicar  of  Constance  is  a  blacksmith  . 
.  .  .  of  lies.  Let  him  take  up  arms  like  a  man,  and 
see  how  Christ  defends  us."|| 

*  Ee  mils  das  Erdrych  brechen.    < Zw.  Opp.  p,  14S.) 

f  Man  mo'cht  denocht  fri'mtlich,  fridlich  und  tugendlich  la- 
hen,  wenn  elich  kein  Evangelium  were.  (Bull.  Chron.  p. 
107.  Zw.  Opp.  i.  p.  152  ) 

}  Cum  de  tua  egregia  virtute  specialiter  nobis  sit  cognitum. 
(Zw.  Epp.  p  266.) 

5;  Serio  respondit  .  Omnia  certe  praeter  sedem  papalem. 
(Vit.  Zwingli,  per  Osw.  Myc.) 

||  Prodeant  volo,  palamque  arma  capiant  ....  (Zw.  Epp. 
p.  292.) 


ZWINGLE'S  PASSION— TRACT  AGAINST  IMAGES—"  WOODEN  IDOLS."        293 


These  words  were  no  uncalled-for  bravado,  for  all  the 
while  that  the  pope,  in  his  communications  with  Zwin- 
gle,  was  complimenting  him  on  his  distinguished  virtues, 
and  the  especial  confidence  he  reposed  in  him,  the  Re- 
former's enemies  were  multiplying  throughout  Swit- 
zerland. The  veteran  soldiers,  the  higher  families, 
and  the  herdsmen  of  the  mountains,  were  combined 
in  aversion  to  a  doctrine  which  ran  counter  to  all  their 
inclinations.  At  Lucerne,  public  notice  was  given  of 
the  performance  of  "  Zwingle's  Passion;"  and  the 
people  dragged  about  an  effigy  of  the  Reformer,  shout- 
ing that  they  were  going  to  put  the  heretic  to  death  ; 
and  laying  violent  hands  on  some  Zurichers,  who  were 
then  at  Lucerne,  compelled  them  to  be  spectators  of 
this  mock  execution.  "  They  shall  not  disturb  my 
peace,"  observed  Zwingle  ;  "  Christ  will  never  fail 
those  who  are  his."  Even  in  the  Diet  threats  against 
him  were  heard.*"  "  Beloved  confederates,"  said  the 
councillor  of  Mullinen,  addressing  the  cantons,  "  make 
a  stand  against  Lutheranism  while  there  is  yet  time. 
At  Zurich  no  man  is  master  in  his  own  house." 

This  agitation  in  the  enemy's  ranks,  proclaimed, 
more  loudly  than  anything  else  could  have  done,  what 
was  passing  in  Zurich.  In  truth,  victory  was  already 
bearing  fruits,  the  victorious  party  was  gradually  taking 
possession  of  the  country  ;  and  every  day  the  Gospel 
made  some  new  progress.  Twenty-four  canons,  and 
a  considerable  number  of  the  chaplains,  came  of  their 
own  accord  to  petition  the  council  for  a  reform  of  their 
statutes.  It  was  decided  to  replace  those  sluggish 
priests  by  men  of  learning  and  piety,  whose  duty 
it  should  be  to  instruct  the  youth  of  Zurich,  and  to 
establish,  instead  of  their  vespers  and  Latin  masses, 
a  daily  exposition  of  a  chapter  in  the  Bible,  from  the 
Hebrew  and  Greek  texts,  first  for  the  learned,  and 
then  for  the  people. 

Unhappily  there  are  found,  in  every  army,  ungo- 
vernable spirits,  who  leave  their  ranks,  and  make  onset 
too  early,  on  points  which  it  would  be  better,  for  a 
while,  to  leave  unattacked.  Louis  Ketzer,  a  young 
priest,  having  put  forth  a  tract  in  German,  entitled  the 
Judgment  of  God,  against  Images,  a  great  sensation 
was  produced,  and  a  portion  of  the  people  could  think 
of  nothing  else.  It  is  ever  to  the  injury  of  essentials 
that  the  mind  of  man  is  pre-occupied  with  secondary 
matters.  Outside  one  of  the  city  gates,  at  a  place 
called  Stadelhofen,  was  stationed  a  crucifix,  elaborately 
carved,  and  richly  ornamented.  The  more  ardent  of 
the  Reformed,  provoked  at  the  superstitious  veneration 
still  paid  this  image,  could  not  suppress  their  indigna- 
tion, whenever  they  had  occasion  to  pass  that  way. 
A  citizen,  by  name  Claudius  Hottinger,  "  a  man  of 
family,"  says  Bullingcr,  "  and  well  acquainted  with 
the  Scriptures,"  meeting  the  miller  of  Stadelhofen,  to 
whom  the  crucifix  belonged,  inquired  when  he  meant 
to  take  away  hjs  idols.  "  No  one  requires  you  to 
worship  them,"  was  the  miller's  reply.  "  But,  do  you 
not  know,"  retorted  Hottinger,  "  that  God's  word  for- 
bids us  to  have  graven  images  ?"  "  Very  well,"  re- 
plied the  miller,  "  if  you  are  empowered  to  remove 
them,  I  leave  you  to  do  so."  Hottinger  thought 
himself  authorised  to  act,  and  he  was  soon  after  seen 
to  leave  the  city,  accompanied  by  a  number  of  the  ci- 
tizens. On  arriving  at  the  crucifix,  they  deliberately 
dug  round  the  image,  until,  yielding  to  their  efforts,  it 
came  down  with  a  loud  crash  to  the  earth. 

This  daring  action  spread  alarm  far  and  wide.  One 
might  have  thought  religion  itself  had  been  overturned 
with  the  crucifix  of  Stadelhofen.  "They  are  sacrile- 
gious disturbers, — they  are  worthy  of  death,"  exclaim- 
ed the  partisans  of  Rome.  The  Council  caused  the 
iconoclasts  to  be  arrested. 

*  Christum  suis  nunquam  defecturara.    (Zw.  Epp.  p.  278.) 


"  No,"  exclaimed  Zwingle,  speaking  from  his  pulpit, 
l{  Hottinger  and  his  friends  have  not  sinned  against 
God,  nor  are  they  deserving  of  death* — but  they  may 
be  justly  punished  for  having  resorted  to  violence  with- 
out the  sanction  of  the  magistrates. *'t 

Meanwhile  acts  of  a  similar  kind  were  continually  re- 
curring. A  Vicar  of  St.  Peter's,  one  day  observing  be- 
fore the  porch  of  that  church  a  number  of  poor  persons 
ill  clad  and  famished,  remarked  to  one  of  his  colleagues, 
as  he  glanced  at  the  images  of  the  saints  decked  in 
costly  attire — "I  should  like  to  strip  those  wooden 
idols  and  clothe  those  poor  members  of  Jesus  Christ." 
A  few  days  after,  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
saints  and  their  fine  trappings  were  missing.  The 
Council  sent  the  vicar  to  prison,  although  he  protested 
that  he  had  no  hand  in  removing  them.  '4  Is  it 
these  blocks  of  wood,"  exclaimed  the  people,  "  that 
Jesus  enjoined  us  to  clothe  ?  Is  it  of  such  images  as 
these  that  he  will  say  to  the  righteous — "  I  was  naked, 
and  ye  clothed  Me  ?"  .  .  .  Thus  the  Reformation,  when 
resisted,  rose  to  a  greater  height ;  and  the  more  it  was 
compressed,  with  the  more  force  did  it  break  forth  and 
threaten  to  carry  all  before  it. 

These  excesses  conduced  to  some  beneficial  results. 
Another  struggle  was  needed  to  issue  in  further  pro- 
gress—for in  spiritual  things,  as  in  the  affairs  of  earthly 
kingdoms,  there  can  be  no  conquest  without  a  strug- 
gle— and  since  the  adherents  of  Rome  were  inert, 
events  were  so  ordered  that  the  conflict  was  begun  by 
the  irregular  soldiery  of  the  Reformation.  In  fact,  the 
magistrates  were  perplexed  and  undecided  :  they  felt 
the  need  of  more  light  in  the  matter  ;  and  for  this  end 
they  resolved  on  appointing  a  second  public  meeting, 
to  discuss  in  German,  and  on  grounds  of  Scripture, 
the  question  as  to  images. 

The  bishops  of  Coira,  Constance,  and  Bale,  the  uni- 
versity of  the  latter  city,  and  the  twelve  cantons,  were 
accordingly  requested  to  send  deputies  to  Zurich.  But 
the  bishops  declined  compliance,  recollecting  the  little 
credit  their  deputies  had  brought  them  on  occasion  of 
the  first  meeting,  and  having  no  wish  for  a  repetition  of 
so  humiliating  a  scene.  Let  the  Gospel  party  discuss 
if  they  will — but  let  it  he  among  themselves.  On  the 
former  occasion,  silence  had  been  their  policy — on  this 
they  will  not  even  add  importance  to  the  meeting  by 
their  presence.  Rome  thought  perhaps  that  the  com- 
bat woujd  pass  over  for  want  of  combatants.  The 
bishops  were  not  alone  in  refusing  to  attend.  The  men 
of  Unterwald  returned  for  answer  that  they  had  no  phi- 
losophers among  them — but  kind  and  pious  priests 
alone — who  would  persevere  in  explaining  the  Gospel 
as  their  fathers  had  done  ;  that  they  accordingly  must 
decline  sending  a  deputy  to  Zwingle,  and  the  like  of 
him  ;  but  that  only  let  him  fall  into  their  hands,  and  they 
would  handle  him  after  a  fashion  to  cure  him  of  his  in- 
clination for  such  irregularities.  The  only  cantons  that 
sent  representatives  were  Schaffhausenl:  and  Saint 
Gall. 

On  Monday,  the  26th  of  October,  more  than  nine 
hnndred  persons — among  whom  were  the  members  of 
the  Grand  Council — and  no  less  than  three  hundred 
and  fifty  priests,  were  assembled  after  sermon  in  the 
large  room  of  the  Town  Hall.  Zwingle  and  Leo  Ju- 
da  were  seated  at  a  table  on  which  lay  the  Old  and 
New  Testaments  in  the  originals.  Zwingle  spoke  first, 
and  soon  disposing  of  the  authority  of  the  hierarchy  and 
ts  councils,  he  laid  down  the  rights  of  every  Christian 

*  The  same  principles  are  seen  in  the  speeches  of  M.  M.  de 
Broglieand  Royer-Collard,  on  occasion  of  the  c  lebrated  de- 
bates on  the  law  of  Sacrilege. 

t  Dornm  habend  ir  miser  Herren  kein  riicht  zuinen,  sv  zu 
tb'den.  (Bull.  Chr.  p  1-27.) 

I  So  wolltcn  wir  Him  den  Lohn  geben,  das*  c:'-»  uimmei 
:nehr  thate.  (Simmler  Saraml.  M.  8.  C.  ix.) 


294 


PUBLIC  MEETING— HOFFMAN'S  DEFENCE— THE  MASS— SCHMIDT. 


church,  and  claimed  the  liberty  of  the  first  ages,  whe 
the  Church  had  as  yet  no  council  either  oecumenical  o 
provincial.  "  The  Universal  Church,"  said  he, 
diffused  throughout  the  world,  wherever  faith  in  Jesu 
Christ  has  spread  :  in  India  as  well  as  in  Zurich  .  . 
And  as  to  particular  churches,  we  have  them  at  Berne 
at  Schaffhausen,  and  even  here.  But  the  Popes,  wit 
their  cardinals  and  councils,  are  neither  the  Universa 
Church,  nor  a  particular  Church.*  This  assembl 
which  hears  rne,"  exclaimed  he,  with  energy,  "is  th 
church  of  Zurich — it  desires  to  hear  the  word  of  God 
and  can  rightfully  decree  whatever  it  shall  see  to  b 
conformable  to  the  Scriptures." 

Here  we  see  Zwingle  relying  on  the  Church — bu 
on  the  true  Church, — not  on  the  clergy,  but  on  the  as 
sembly  of  believers.  He  applied  to  particular  church 
es  all  those  passages  of  Scripture  that  speak  of  thi 
Church  Catholic.  He  could  not  allow  that  a  churcl 
that  listened  with  docility  to  God's  word  could  fall  int< 
error.  The  church  was,  in  his  judgement,  representec 
both  politically  and  ecclesiastically  by  the  Great  Coun 
cil.f  He  began  by  explaining  each  subject  from  thi 
pulpit ;  and  when  the  minds  of  his  hearers  were  con 
'vinced,  he  proposed  the  different  questions  to  the 
Council,  who,  in  conformity  with  the  ministers  of  the 
Church,  recorded  such  decisions  as  they  called  fort 

In  the  absence  of  the  bishops'  deputies,  Conrad  Hoff- 
man an  aged  canon,  undertook  to  defend  the  Pope 
He  maintained  that  the  Church,  the  flock,  the  "  third 
estate,"  was  not  authorized  to  discuss  such  matters 
"  I  resided,"  said  he,  "  for  no  less  than  twelve  years 
at  Heidelberg,  in  the  house  of  a  man  of  extensive  learn 
ing  named  Doctor  Joss — a  kind  and  pious  man — with 
whom  I  boarded  and  lived  quietly  for  a  long  time,  but 
then  he  always  said  that  it  was  not  proper  to  make  such 
matters  a  subject  of  discussion;  you  see,  therefore  !" 
On  this  every  one  began  to  laugh.  "  Thus,"  continued 
Hoffman,  "  let  us  wait  for  a  Council — at  present  I  shall 
decline  taking  part  in  any  discussion  whatever,  but 
shall  act  according  to  the  bishop's  orders,  even  though 
he  himself  were  a  knave  !" 

"  Wait  for  a  Council !"  interrupted  Zwingle,  "  and 
who,  think  you,  will  attend  a  Council  I—the  Pope  and 
some  sleepy  and  ill-taught  bishops,  who  will  do  nothing 
but  what  pleases  them.  No,  that  is  not  the  Church  : 
Hong  and  Kiissnacht  (two  villages  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Zurich,)  are  more  of  a  Church  than  all  the  bishops 
and  popes  put  together." 

Thus  did  Zwingle  assert  the  rights  of  Christians  in 
general,  whom  Rome  had  stript  of  their  inheritance. 
The  assembly  he  addressed  was  in  his  view  not  so  much 
the  church  of  Zurich  as  its  earliest  representative.  Here 
we  see  the  begininngs  of  the  Presbyterian  system. 
Zwingle  was  engaged  in  delivering  Zurich  from  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  bishops  of  Constance— he  was  like- 
wise detaching  it  from  the  hierarchy  of  Rome  ;  and  on 
this  thought  of  the  flock  and  the  assembly  of  believers, 
he  was  laying  the  foundations  of  a  new  church  order,  to 
which  other  countries  would  afterwards  adhere. 

The  discussion  was  continued.  Several  priests  hav- 
ing defended  the  use  of  images,  without  deriving  their 
arguments  from  Scripture,  Zwingle,  and  the  rest  of  the 
reformers,  refuted  them  by  passages  from  the  Bible. 
"  If,"  said  one  of  the  presidents,  "  no  one  defends  the 
images  by  the  Scriptures,  we  shall  call  upon  some  of 
their  advocates  by  name."  No  one  coming  forward, 

*  Dcr  Pabste,  Cardinale  und  Bischoffe  Concilia  sind  nicht 
die  christliche  Kirche.  (Fiissl  Beytr.  III.  p.  20) 

t  Diacosion  Senats  summa  est  potestas  Ecclesiae  vice.  (Zw 
Opp.  III.  p.  839.) 

\  Ante  omnia  multitudinum  dc  quaestione  probe  docere  ita 
foctum  est,  ut  quidquid  diecosii  (the  grand  council,)  cum  ver- 
bi  ministris  ordinarent,  jamdudum  in  animis  fidelium  ordina- 
tumesset.  (Zw.  Opp,  III.  p.  339.) 


the  curate  of  Wadischwyl  wascalled.  "  He  isasleep," 
exclaimed  one  of  the  crowd.  The  curate  of  Horgen 
was  next  called.  "  He  has  sent  me  in  his  stead,''  said 
his  vicar,  "  but  1  cannot  answer  for  him."  It  was  plain 
that  the  power  of  the  word  of  God  was  felt  in  the  as- 
sembly. The  partisans  of  the  Reformation  were  buoy- 
ant with  liberty  and  joy  ;  their  adversaries,  on  the  con- 
trary,  were  silent,  uneasy,  and  depressed.  The  curates 
of  Laufen,  Glattfelden,  and  Wetzikon,  the  rector  and 
curate  of  Pfaffikon,  the  dean  of  Elgg,  the  curate  of  Ba- 
retschwyl,  the  Dominicans  and  Cordeliers,  known  for 
their  preaching  in  defence  of  image  worship  and  tho 
saints,  were  one  after  another  invited  to  stand  forward. 
They  all  made  answer  that  they  had  nothing  to  say 
in  their  defence,  and  that,  in  future,  they  would  apply 
themselves  to  the  study  of  the  truth.  "  Until  to-day," 
said  one,  "  I  have  put  my  faith  in  the  ancient  doctors, 

i  now  I  will  transfer  my  faith  to  the  new." — "  It  is 
not  MS,"  interrupted  Zwingle,  "  that  you  should  believe, 
tt  is  God's  word.  It  is  only  the  Scriptures  of  God 
that  never  can  mislead  us."  The  sitting  had  been  pro- 
racted — nighr  was  closing  in.  The  president,  Hof- 
meister,  of  Schafthausen,  rose  and  said  :  "  Blessed  bo 

od,  the  Almighty  and  Eternal,  who,  in  all  things,  giv- 
eth  us  the  victory,"  and  he  ended  by  exhorting  the 
Town-Council  of  Zurich  to  abolish  the  worship  of  im- 
ages. 

On  Tuesday,  the  assembly  again  met,  Vadian  being 
(resident,  to  discuss  the  doctrine  of  the  Mass.  "  My 
irethren  in  Christ,"  said  Zwingle,  "  far  from  us  be  the 
bought  that  there  is  anything  unreal  in  the  body  and 
>lood  of  Christ.*  Our  only  aim  is  to  prove  that  the 
Vlass  is  not  a  sacrifice  that  can  be  offered  to  God  by 
me  man  for  his  fellow,  unless  indeed  any  will  be  bold 
nough  to  say,  that  a  man  can  eat  and  drink  for  his 
riend." 

Vadian  having  twice  inquired  if  any  of  those  present 
ad  anything  to  say  in  defence  of  the  doctrine  im- 
mgned,  and  no  one  corning  forward,  the  canons  of 
Zurich,  the  chaplains,  and  several  ecclesiastics,  declar- 
ed themselves  of  Zwingle's  opinion. 

But  scarcely  had  the  Reformers  overcome  the  par- 
isans  of  the  ancient  doctrines,  when  they  were  called 
o  contend  against  the  impatient  spirits  of  menclamor- 
usly  demanding  abrupt  and  violent  changes,  instead 
f  prudent  and  gradual  reformation.  The  unfortunate 
3onrad  Grebel  rose,  and  said  :  "  It  is  not  sufficient 
lat  we  should  talk  about  the  Mass  ;  it  is  our  duty  to 
o  away  with  the  abuses  of  it." — "  The  Council,"  an- 
wered  Zwingle,  "will  put  forth  an  edict  on  the  sub- 
ect."  On  this,  Simon  Stumpf  exclaimed,  "  The 
pirit  of  God  has  already  decided — why  then  refer  the 
latter  to  the  Council's  decision  ?"t 
The  commandant,  Schmidt,  of  Kiissnacht,  rose 
ravely,  and,  in  a  speech  marked  by  much  wisdom, 
aid — "  Let  us  teach  Christians  to  receive  Christ  into 
leir  hearts.:}:  Until  this  hour  you  have  all  been  led 
way  after  idols.  The  dwellers  in  the  plain  have  made 
Igrimages  to  the  hills — those  of  the  hill  country  have 
one  on  pilgrimages  to  the  plain ;  the  French  have 
ade  journeys  into  Germany,  and  the  Germans  into 
>ance.  You  now  know  whither  you  ought  to  go. 
>od  has  lodged  all  things  in  Christ.  Worthy  Zurieh- 
rs,  go  to  the  true  source,  and  let  Jesus  Christ  re- 
nter your  territory,  and  resume  his  ancient  authori- 

This  speech  made  a  deep  impression,  and  no  one 
;anding  up  to  oppose  it,  Zwingle  rose  with  emotion, 

in  dem  rehien  Blut 


*  Dass  einigerly  Betrug  oder  Falsch  syg  ii 
nd  Fleisch  Christi.     (Zw.  Opp.  i.  p.  493  ) 
t  Der  Geist  Gdttes  urtheilet.     (Zw.  Opp. 
\  Wie   sy  Christum  in  iren  Herzen  so] 


L»er  tjeisi  uoues  uriueiim.      VA.W.  Opp.  i.  p.  529.) 
Wie   sy  Christum  in  iren  Herzen  sollind  hilden  und 
achen.    (Ibid.  p.  534.) 


THE  CONFERENCE— MYCONIUS  AT  ZURICH— THOMAS  PLATER. 


295 


and  spoke  as  follows  : — "My  gracious  lords,  God  is 
with  us.  He  will  defend  His  own  cause.  Now  then, 
in  the  name  of  our  God,  let  us  go  forward."  Here 
Zwingle's  feelings  overcame  him — he  wept,  and  many 
of  those  near  him  also  shed  tears. 

Thus  ended  the  conference.  The  president  rose — 
the  burgomaster  thanked  them,  and  the  veteran,  turn- 
ing to  the  Council,  said  in  a  grave  tone,  with  that 
voice  that  had  been  so  often  heard  in  the  field  of  bat- 
tle.— "  Now  then,  let  us  take  in  hand  the  sword 
of  the  Word  ....  and  may  God  prosper  his  own 
work  !" 

This  dispute,  which  took  place  in  the  month  of  Oc- 
tober, 1533,  was  decisive  in  its  consequences.  The 
greater  number  of  the  priests,  who  were  present  at  it, 
returned  full  of  zeal  to  their  stations  in  different  parts 
of  the  canton  ;  and  the  effect  of  those  memorable  days 
.was  felt  in  every  corner  of  Switzerland.  The  church 
of  Zurich,  which,  in  its  connection  with  the  see  of 
Constance,  had  always  maintained  a  certain  measure 
of  independence  was  now  completely  emancipated. 
Instead  of  resting  through  the  bishop,  on  the  Pope,  it 
rested  henceforth,  through  the  people,  on  the  Word  of 
God.  Zurich  had  recovered  the  rights  of  which  Rome 
had  deprived  her.  The  city  and  its  rural  territory  vied 
with  each  other  in  zeal  for  the  work  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, and  the  Great  Council  merely  obeyed  the  impulse 
of  the  people  at  large.  On  every  important  occasion, 
the  city  and  the  villages  signified  the  result  of  their 
separate  deliberations.  Luther  had  restored  the  Bible 
to  the  Christian  community — Zwingle  went  further — he 
restored  their  rights.  This  is  a  characteristic  feature 
of  the  Reformation  in  Switzerland.  The  maintenance 
of  sound  doctrine  was  entrusted,  under  God,  to  the 
people  ;  and  recent  events  have  shown,  that  the  people 
can  discharge  that  trust  better  than  priests  or  pontiffs. 

Zwinule  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  elated  by  vic- 
tory ;  on  the  contrary,  the  Reformation,  under  his  guid- 
ance, was  carried  on  with  much  moderation.  "  God 
knows  my  heart,"  said  he,  when  the  Council  demanded 
his  opinion,  "He  knows  that  I  am  inclined  to  build  up, 
and  not  to  cast  down.  There  are  timid  spirits  whom 
it  is  needful  to  treat  tenderly  ;  let  the  mass,  therefore, 
for  some  time  longer,  be  read  on  Sundays  in  the 
churches,  and  let  those  who  celebrate  it  be  carefully 
protected  from  insult."* 

The  Council  issued  a  decree  to  this  effect.  Hottin- 
ger,  and  Hochrutiner,  one  of  his  friends,  were  banished 
from  the  canton  for  two  years,  and  forbidden  to  return 
without  an  express  permission. 

The  Reformation  at  Zurich  proceeded  thus  in  a 
steady  and  Christian  course.  Raising  the  city  day  by 
to  a  higher  pitch  of  moral  elevation,  it  cast  a  glory 
round  her  in  the  eyes  of  all  who  loved  the  word  of 
God.  Throughout  Switzerland,  therefore,  those  who 
welcomed  the  day-spring  which  had  visited  the  Church, 
felt  themselves  powerfully  attracted  to  Zurich.  Os- 
wald Mycotiius,  after  his  expulsion  from  Lucerne,  had 
spent  six  months  in  the  valley  of  Einsidlen,  when,  re- 
turning one  day,  wearied  and  overpowered  by  the  heat 
of  the  weather,  from  a  journey  to  Glaris,  he  was  met 
on  the  road  by  his  young  son,  Felix,  t  who  had  run 
out  to  bring  him  tidings  of  his  having  been  invited  to 
Zurich,  to  lake  charge  of  one  of  the  schools  there. 
Oswald  could  hardly  credit  the  happy  intelligence,  and 
hesitated  for  a  while  between  hope  and  fear.J  "  I  am 
thine,"  was  the  reply  which,  at  length,  he  addressed  to 
Zwingle.  Geroldsek  dismissed  him  with  regret,  for 

*  Ohne  dass  jemand  sich  unterstehe  die  Messpriester  zu 
beschimpfen.  (Wirtz  H.  K.  G.  v.  p.  208.) 

t  Insperato  nuntio  excepit  me  filius  reduntenr  ex  Glareana. 
(Zw.  Epp.  p  322) 

t  Inter  spem  ac  metum.    (Ibid.) 


gloomy  thoughts  had  taken  possession  of  his  mind. 

Ah  !"  said  he,  "  all  who  confess  Christ  are  flocking 
to  Zurich  :  I  fear  that  one  day  we  shall  all  perish  there 
together"*  A  melancholy  foreboding,  which  was 
but  too  fully  realized  when  Geroldsek,  and  so  many 
>ther  friends  of  the  Gospel,  lost  their  lives  on  the  plain 
of  Cappel. 

At  Zurich,  Myconius  had  at  last  found  a  secure 
retreat.  His  predecessor,  nicknamed  at  Paris,  on  ac- 
count of  his  stature,  "  the  tall  devil,"  had  neglected  his 
duty.  Oswald  devoted  his  whole  heart  and  his  wholo 
strength  to  the  fulfilment  of  his.  He  explained  the 
Greek  and  Latin  classics  ;  he  taught  rhetoric  and  logic  ; 
and  the  youth  of  the  city  listened  to  him  with  delight.f 
Myconius  was  lo  become,  to  the  rising  generation,  all 
that  Zwingle  was  already  to  those  of  maturer  years. 

At  first  Myconius  felt  some  alarm  at  the  number  of 
fullgrown  scholars  committed  to  his  care ;  but  by  de- 
grees he  gathered  courage,  and  it  was  not  long  before 
he  distinguished  among  his  pupils  a  young  man  of  four- 
and-twenty,  whose  intelligent  looks  gave  sufficient  in- 
dication of  his  love  of  study.  This  young  man,  whose 
name  was  Thomas  Plaler,  was  a  native  of  the  Valais. 
In  that  beautiful  valley,  through  which  the  torrent  of 
the  Viege  rolls  its  tumultuous  waters,  after  escaping 
from  the  sea  of  glaciers  and  snow  that  encircles  Mount 
Rosa — seated  between  St.  Nicholas  and  Standen,  upon 
the  hill  that  rises  on  the  right  of  the  river,  is  still  to  be 
seen  the  village  of  Grachen.  This  was  Plater's  birth- 
place. From  under  the  shadow  of  those  colossal  Alps, 
emerged  one  of  the  most  remarkable  characters  that 
figured  in  the  great  drama  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
At  the  age  of  nine  he  had  been  consigned  lo  the  care 
of  a  curate,  a  kinsman  of  his  own — by  whom  the  little 
rustic  was  often  so  severely  beaten,  that  his  cries,  he 
tells  us  himself,  were  like  those  of  a  kid  under  the 
hands  of  the  butcher.  One  of  his  cousins  took  him 
along  with  him  to  visit  the  schools  of  Germany.  But 
removing  in  this  way  from  school  to  school,  when  he 
had  reached  the  age  of  twenty,  he  scarcely  knew  how 
to  read.J  On  his  arrival  at  Zurich,  he  made  it  his  fixed 
determination  that  he  would  be  ignorant  no  longer, 
took  his  post  at  a  desk,  in  one  corner  of  the  school 
over  which  Myconius  presided,  and  said  to  himself : 
"Here  thou  shall  learn,  or  here  ihou  shall  die  !"  The 
lighl  of  the  Gospel  quickly  found  its  way  to  his  heart. 
One  morning,  when  it  was  very  cold,  and  fuel  was 
wanting  to  heat  the  school-room  stove,  which  it  was 
his  office  to  tend,  he  said  to  himself:  "  Why  need  I 
be  at  a  loss  for  wood,  when  there  are  so  many  idols  in 
the  church  1"  The  church  was  then  empty,  though 
Zwingle  was  expected  to  preach,  and  the  bells  were 
already  ringing  to  summon  the  congregation.  Plater 
entered  with  a  noiseless  step,  grappled  an  image  of  St. 
John,  which  stood  over  one  of  the  altars,  carried  it  off 
and  thrust  it  into  the  stove,  saying,  as  he  did  so— 
"  Down  with  thee,  for  in  thou  musl  go."  Certainly 
neither  Myconius  nor  Zwingle  would  have  applauded 
such  an  act. 

It  was  by  other,  and  better  means,  that  unbelief  and 
superstition  were  to  be  driven  from  the  field.  Zwingle 
and  his  colleagues  had  stretched  out  the  hand  of  fel- 
lowship to  Myconius ;  and  the  latter  now  expounded 
the  New  Testament  in  the  church  of  the  Virgin,  to  a 
numerous  and  eager  auditory.^  Another  public  dis- 
putation, held  on  the  13th  and  14th  of  January,  1524, 
terminated  in  renewed  discomfiture  to  the  cause  of 
Rome  ;  and  the  appeal  of  the  canon,  Koch,  who  ex- 
claimed— "  Popes,  cardinals,  bishops,  councils — these 

*  Ac  deinde  omnes  simul  peraemus.     (Ibid.  p.  323.) 
t  Fuventns  ilium  lubens  audit,      (Ibid.  p.  264.) 
1  See  his  Autobiography 
§  Weise  Fusslin  Bcyter.    iv.  p.  66. 


296         HOTTINGER  ARRESTED— HIS  MARTYRDOM— PERSECUTION  INVOKED. 


are  the  church  for  me !"  awakened  no  sympatheti 
response. 

Everything  was  moving  forward  at  Zurich  :  men' 
minds  were  becoming  more  enlightened — their  heart 
more  stedfast.  The  Reformation  was  gaining  strength 
Zurich  was  a  fortress,  in  which  the  new  doctrine  ha( 
entrenched  itself,  and  from  within  whose  enclosure  it  wa; 
ready  to  pour  itself  abroad  over  the  whole  confederation 
The  enemies  were  aware  of  this.  They  felt  tha 
they  must  no  longer  delay  to  strike  a  vigorous  blow 
They  had  remained  quiet  long  enough.  The  strong 
men  of  Switzerland,  her  iron-sheathed  warriors,  were 
up  at  last,  and  stirring  ;  and  who  could  doubt,  when 
they  were  once  aroused,  that  the  struggle  must  enc 
in  blood  I 

The  Diet  was  assembled  at  Lucerne.  The  priests 
made  a  strenuous  effort  to  engage  that  great  counci 
of  the  nation  in  their  favour.  Friburg  and  the  Forest 
Cantons  proved  themselves  their  docile  instruments 
Berne,  Basle,  Soleure,  Glaris,  and  Appenzel,  hung 
doubtfully  in  the  balance.  Schaffhausen  was  almost 
decided  for  the  Gospel ;  but  Zurich  alone  assumed  a 
determined  attitude  as  its  defender.  The  partisans  of 
Rome  urged  the  assembly  to  yield  to  their  pretensions, 
and  adopt  their  prejudices.  "  Let  an  edict  be  issued," 
said  they,  "  enjoining  all  persons  to  refrain  from  incul- 
cating or  repeating  any  new  or  Lutheran  doctrine, 
either  secretly  or  in  public  ;  and  from  talking  or  disput- 
ing on  such  matters  in  taverns,  or  over  their  wine."* 
Such  vvas  the  new  ecclesiastical  law  which  it  was  at- 
tempted to  establish  throughout  the  confederation. 

Nineteen  articles  to  this  effect  were  drawn  up  in 
due  form — ratified  on  the  26th  of  January,  1523,  by 
all  the  states — Zurich  excepted,  and  transmitted  to  all 
the  bailiffs,  with  injunctions  that  they  should  be  strictly 
enforced — "  which  caused,"  says  Bullinger,  "  great 
joy  among  the  priests,  and  great  grief  among  the  faith- 
ful." A  persecution,  regularly  organized  by  the  su- 
preme authority  of  the  confederation,  was  thus  set  on 
foot. 

One  of  the  first  who  received  the  mandate  of  the 
diet,  was  Henry  Flackenstein,  of  Lucerne,  the  bailiff 
of  Baden.  It  was  to  his  district  that  Hottinger  had 
retired  when  banished  from  Zurich,  after  having  over- 
thrown the  crucifix  at  Stadelhoven  ;  and  he  had  here 
given  free  utterance  to  his  sentiments.  One  day, 
when  he  was  dining  at  the  Angel  Tavern,  at  Zurzach, 
he  had  said  that  the  priests  expounded  holy  scriptures 
amiss,  and  that  trust  ought  to  be  reposed  in  none  but 
God  alone. t  The  host,  who  was  frequently  coming 
into  the  room  to  bring  bread  or  wine,  lent  an  attentive 
ear  to  what  seemed  to  him  very  strange  discourse. 
On  another  occasion,  when  Hottinger  was  paying  a 
visit  to  one  of  his  friends — John  Schutz,  of  Schneys- 
singen — "Tell  me,"  said  Schutz,  after  they  had  fin- 
ished their  repast,  "  what  is  this  new  religion  that  the 
priests  of  Zurich  are  preaching  ?" — "  They  preach," 
replied  Hottinger,  "  that  Christ  has  offered  himself  up 
once  only  for  all  believers,  and  by  that  one  sacrifice 
has  purified  them  and  redeemed  them  from  all  iniquity  ; 
and  they  prove  by  holy  scripture  that  the  Mass  is 
a  mere  delusion." 

Hottinger  had  afterwards  (in  February,  1523,)  quit- 
ted Switzerland,  and  repaired  on  some  occasion  of  bu- 
siness, to  Waldshut,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Rhine. 
In  the  meanwhile,  measures  had  been  taken  to  secure 
his  person  ;  and  when  the  poor  Zuricher,  suspecting 
no  danger,  rccrossed  the  Rhine  about  the  end  of  Fe- 

*  Es  soil  uieman  in  den  Wirtzhuseren  oder  sunst  hinter 
dem  VVvn  von  Lutherischen  oder  newen  Sachen  u/Jd  redcn. 
(Bull.  Chron.  p.  144.) 

i  Wie  wir  unset  pitt  Hoffaunff  und  Trost  allein  uf  Oott 
(Bull.  Chr.  p.  146.) 


bruary,  he  had  no  sooner  reached  Coblentz,  a  village 
on  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  than  he  was  arrested. 
He  was  conveyed  to  Klingenau,  and  as  he  there  fear- 
lessly confessed  his  belief,  Flackenstein  said,  in  an 
angry  tone,  "  I  will  take  you  to  a  place  where  you 
shall  meet  with  those  who  will  give  you  a  fitting  an- 
swer." Accordingly  the  bailiff  dragged  his  prisoner 
first  before  the  magistrates  of  Klingenau,  next  before 
the  superior  tribunal  of  Baden,  and  ultimately,  since 
he  could  not  elsewhere  obtain  a  sentence  of  condem- 
nation against  him,  before  the  diet  assembled  at  Lu- 
cerne. He  was  resolved  that  in  one  quarter  or  another 
he  would  find  judges  to  pronounce  him  guilty. 

The  diet  was  prompt  in  its  proceedings,  and  con- 
demned Hottinger  to  lose  his  head.  When  this  sen- 
tence was  communicated  to  him,  he  gave  glory  to 
Jesus  Christ.  "  Enough,  enough,"  cried  Jacob  Tro- 
ger,  one  of  the  Judges,  *•  we  do  not  sit  here  to  listen 
to  sermons — thou  shall  babble  some  other  time."— 

He  must  have  his  head  taken  off  for  this  once,"  said 
-he  bailiff,  Am-Ort,  with  a  laugh,  "  but  if  he  should  re- 
cover it  again,  we  will  embrace  his  creed." — "May 
God  forgive  those  who  have  condemned  me  !"  ex- 
claimed the  prisoner ;  and  when  a  monk  presented  a 
crucifix  to  his  lips,  "  It  is  the  heart."  said  he,  pushing 
it  away,  "  that  must  receive  Jesus  Christ." 

When  he  was  led  forth  to  death,  there  were  many 
imong  the  spectators  who  could  not  restrain  their 
.ears.  He  turned  toward  them,  ar.d  said,  "  I  am  going 
o  everlasting  happiness."  On  reaching  the  place  of 
execution,  he  lifted  up  his  eyes  to  heaven,  saying, 
'  Oh,  my  Redeemer,  into  thy  hands  I  commend  my 
spirit !"  and  a  moment  after,  his  head  rolled  upon  the 
icaffold. 

No  sooner  had  the  blood  of  Hottinger  been  shed, 
han  the  enemies  of  the  Reformation  seized  the  op- 
mrtunity  of  inflaming  the  anger  of  the  confederates 
o  a  higher  pitch.  It  was  in  Zurich  that  the  root  of 
he  mischief  must  be  crushed.  So  terrible  an  example 
is  that  which  had  now  been  set,  could  not  fail  to  in- 
imidate  Zwingle  and  his  followers.  One  vigorous 
ffort  more — and  the  Reformation  itself  would  share  the 
ate  of  Hottinger.  The  diet  immediately  resolved  that 
deputation  should  be  sent  to  Zurich,  to  call  on  the 
ouncils  and  the  citizens  to  renounce  their  new  faith. 

The  deputies  were  admitted  to  an  audience  on  the 
1st  of  March.  "The  ancient  unity  of  the  Christian 
hurch  is  broken,"  said  they  ;  "  the  evil  is  gaining 
_  round  ;  the  clergy  of  the  four  Forest  cantons  have 
Iready  intimated  to  the  magistrates  that  aid  must  be 
fforded  them,  or  their  functions  must  cease.  Con- 
federates of  Zurich  !  join  your  efforts  to  ours  ;  root 
ut  this  new  religion  ;*  dismiss  Zwiugle  and  his  dis- 
iples ;  and  then  let  us  all  unite  to  remedy  the  abuses 
/hich  have  arisen  from  the  encroachments  of  popes 
nd  their  courtiers." 

Such  was  the  language  of  the  adversary.  How 
ould  the  men  of  Zurich  now  demean  themselves! 
Vould  their  hearts  fail  them  1  Had  their  courage 
bbed  away  with  the  blood  of  their  fellow  citizens  1 

The  men  of  Zurich  left  neither  friends  nor  enemies 

ong  in  suspense.     The  reply  of  the  council  was  calm 

nd  dignified.     They  could  make  no  concessions  in 

hat  concerned  the  word  of  God  ;  and  their  very  next 

ct  was  a  reply  more  emphatic  still. 

It  had  been  the  custom  ever  since  the  year  1351, 
lat,  on  Whit  Monday,  a  numerous  company  of  pil- 
rims,  each  bearing  a  cross,  should  go  in  procession 
o  Einsidlen,  to  worship  the  virgin.  This  festival,! 

Zurich    selbigen    ausreuten    und    untertrucken  helfe. 
Holt  Helv.  K.  G.  in.  p.  170.) 

t  Uff  einen  creitzgang  sieben  unehelicher  kindea  uber 
ommen  wurdend.  (Bullinger  Chr.  p.  160.) 


SWISS  AND  GERMAN  REFORMATIONS— JEWISH  AND  PAGAN  ELEMENTS.      297 


instituted  in  commemoration  of  the  battle  of  Tatwyll, 
was  commonly  attended  with  great  disorders.  It  would 
fall,  this  year,  on  the  7th  May.  At  the  instance  of  the 
three  pastors,  it  was  now  abolished,  and  all  the  other 
customary  processions  were  successively  brought  under 
due  regulation. 

Nor  did  the  council  stop  here.  The  relics,  which 
had  given  occasion  to  so  many  superstitions,  were 
honourably  interred.*  And  then,  on  the  farther  re- 
quisition of  the  three  pastors,  an  edict  was  issued, 
decreeing  that,  inasmuch  as  God  alone  ought  to  be 
honoured,  the  images  should  be  removed  from  all  the 
churches  of  the  canton,  and  their  ornaments  applied 
to  the  relief  of  the  poor.  Accordingly,  twelve  coun- 
cillors— one  for  each  tribe,  the  three  pastors,  and  the 
city  architect — with  some  smiths,  carpenters,  and  ma- 
sons, visited  the  several  churches;  and  having  first 
closed  the  doors,  took  down  the  crosses,  obliterated 
the  paintings,  whitewashed  the  walls,  and  carried  away 
the  images,  to  the  great  joy  of  the  faithful,  who  re- 
garded this  proceeding,  Bullinger  tells  us,  as  a  glorious 
act  of  homage  to  the  true  God.  In  some  of  the  coun- 
try parishes  the  ornaments  of  the  churches  were  com- 
mitted to  the  flames,  "  to  the  honour  and  glory  of  God." 
Soon  after  this,  the  organs  were  suppressed,  on  account 
of  their  connexion  with  many  superstitious  observances ; 
and  a  new  form  of  baptism  was  established  from  which 
everything  unscriptural  was  carefully  excluded,  t 

The  triumph  of  the  Reformation  threw  a  joyful  ra- 
diance over  the  last  hours  of  the  burgomaster,  Roust, 
and  his  colleague.  They  had  lived  long  enough  ;  and 
they  both  died  within  a  few  days  after  the  restoration 
of  a  purer  mode  of  worship. 

The  Swiss  Reformation  here  presents  itself  to  us 
under  an  aspect  rather  different  from  that  assumed  by 
the  Reformation  in  Germany.  Luther  had  severely 
rebuked  the  excesses  of  those  who  broke  down  the 
images  in  the  churches  of  Wittemburg ;  and  here  we 
behold  Zwingle,  presiding  in  person  over  the  removal 
of  images  from  the  temple  of  Zurich.  This  difference 
is  explained  by  the  different  light  in  which  the  two 
reformers  viewed  the  same  object.  Luther  was  desir- 
ous of  retaining  in  the  church  all  that  was  not  ex- 
pressly contradicted  by  Scripture — while  Zwingle  was 
intent  on  abolishing  all  that  could  not  be  proved  by 
Scripture.  The  German  Reformer  wished  to  remain 
united  to  the  church  of  all  preceding  ages,  and  sought 
only  to  purify  it  from  everything  that  was  repugnant 
to  the  word  of  God.  The  reformer  of  Zurich  passed 
back  over  every  intervening  age  till  he  reached  the 
times  of  the  apostles  ;  and,  subjecting  the  church  to 
an  entire  transformation,  laboured  to  restore  it  to  its 
primitive  condition. 

Zwingle's  Reformation,  therefore,  was  the  more  com- 
plete. The  work  which  Divine  Providence  had  in- 
trusted to  Luther,  the  re-establishment  of  the  doctrine 
of  Justification  by  Faith,  was  undoubtedly  the  great 
work  of  the  Reformation  ;  but  when  this  was  accom- 
plished, other  ends,  of  real,  if  not  of  primary  import- 
ance, remained  td  be  achieved  ;  and  to  these,  the 
efforts  of  Zwingle  were  more  especially  devoted. 

Two  mighty  tasks,  in  fact,  had  been  assigned  to  the 
Reformers.  Christian  Catholicism  taking  its  rise 
amidst  Jewish  Pharisaism,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
Paganism  of  Greece,  on  the  other,  had,  by  degrees, 
contracted  something  of  the  spirit  of  each  of  those  sys- 
tems, and  had  thus  been  transformed  into  Roman 
Catholicism.  The  Reformation,  therefore,  whose  mis- 
sion it  was  to  purify  the  church,  had  to  clear  it  alike 
from  the  Jewish  and  the  Pagan  element. 

The  Jewish  element  had  incorporated  itself  chiefly 

»  Und  es  eerlich  bestattet  hat.    (Bull.  Chr.  p.  161.) 
t  H abend  die  nach  iueu  zu  beschlossen. 
Oo 


with  that  portion  of  Christian  doctrine  which  relates 
to  man.  Catholicism  had  borrowed  from  Judaism  the 
pharisaic  notions  of  inherent  righteousness,  and  salva- 
tion obtainable  by  human  strength  or  works. 

The  Pagan  element  had  allied  itself  principally  with 
that  other  portion  of  Christian  doctrine  which  relates 
to  God.  Paganism  had  corrupted  the  Catholic  notion 
of  an  infinite  Deity,  whose  power,  being  absolutely  all- 
sufficient,  acts  everywhere  and  at  every  moment.  It 
had  set  up  in  the  church  the  dominion  of  symbols,  ima- 
ges, and  ceremonies  ;  and  the  saints  had  become  the 
demi-gods  of  Popery. 

The  Reformation,  in  the  hands  of  Luther,  was  di- 
rected essentially  against  the  Jewish  element.  With 
this  he  had  been  compelled  to  struggle  at  the  outset, 
when  an  audacious  monk,  on  behalf  of  the  Pope,  vras 
bartering  the  salvation  of  souls  for  paltry  coin. 

The  Reformation,  as  conducted  by  Zwingle,  was 
directed  mainly  against  the  Pagan  element.  It  was 
this  that  he  had  first  encountered,  in  the  chapel  of  the 
Virgin  at  Einsidlen,  when  crowds  of  worshippers,  be- 
nighted as  those  of  old  who  thronged  the  temple  of 
Ephesian  Diana,  were  gathered  from  every  side  to 
cast  themselves  down  before  a  gilded  idol. 

The  Reformer  of  Germany  proclaimed  the  great  doc- 
trine of  justification  by  faith — and,  in  so  doing,  inflict- 
ed a  death  blow  on  the  pharisaic  righteousness  of  Rome. 
The  Swiss  Reformer,  undoubtedly,  did  the  same.  The 
inability  of  man  to  save  himself  is  the  fundamental 
truth  on  which  ail  reformers  have  taken  their  stand. 
But  Zwingle  did  something  more.  He  brought  for-  . 
ward,  as  practical  principles,  the  existence  of  God,  and 
His  sovereign,  universal,  and  exclusive  agency  ;  and 
by  the  working  out  of  these  principles,  Rome  was  ut- 
terly bereft  of  all  the  props  that  had  supported  her  pa- 
ganized worship. 

Roman  Catholicism  had  exalted  man,  and  degraded 
God.  Luther  reduced  man  to  his  proper  level  of  abase- 
ment ;  and  Zwingle  restored  God,  (if  we  may  so  speak,) 
to  his  unlimited  and  undivided  supremacy. 

Of  these  two  distinct  tasks,  which  were  specially, 
though  not  exclusively,  allotted  to  the  two  Reformers, 
each  was  necessary  to  the  completion  of  the  other. 
It  was  Luther's  part  to  lay  the  foundation  of  the  edifice 
— Zwingle's  to  rear  the  superstructure. 

To  an  intellect  gifted  with  a  still  more  capacious 
grasp,  was  the  office  reserved  of  developing  on  the 
shores  of  the  Leman,  the  peculiar  characters  of  the 
Swiss  and  the  German  Reformation — blending  them 
together  and  imprinting  them,  thus  combined,  on  the 
Reformation  as  a  whole.* 

But  while  Zwingle  was  thus  carrying  on  the  great 
work,  the  disposition  of  the  cantons  was  daily  becom- 
ing more  hostile.  The  government  of  Zurich  felt  how 
necessary  it  was  to  assure  itself  of  the  support  of  the 
people.  The  people,  moreover — that  is  to  say,  "  the 
assembly  of  believers,"  was,  according  to  Zwingle's 
principles,  the  highest  earthly  authority  to  which  an 
appeal  could  be  made.  The  Council  resolved,  there- 
fore, to  test  the  state  of  public  opinion,  and  instructed 
the  bailiffs  to  demand  of  all  the  townships,  whether 
they  were  ready  to  endure  everything  for  the  sake  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  "  who  shed  his  precious  blood," 
said  the  Council,  "  for  us  poor  sinners. "t  The  whole 
canton  followed  close  upon  the  city  in  the  career  of 
Reformation — and,  in  many  places,  ihe  houses  of  the 
peasants  had  become  schools  of  Christian  instruction, 
in  which  the  Holy  Scriptures  were  constantly  read. 

The  proclamation  of  the  Council  was  received  by 
all  the  townships  with  enthusiasm :  "  Only  let  our 

*  Litterarischer  Anzeiger,  1840,  No  27. 
f  Der  sin  rosenfarw  bliit  alein  fur  uns  armc  sunder  verge*- 
son  hat.    (Bull  Chr.  p.  180.) 


298 


THE  COUNCIL  AND  THE  PEOPLE— RIOT  AND  CONFLAGRATION. 


magistrates  hold  fast  and  fearlessly  to  the  word  of  God," 
answered  they,  "  we  will  help  them  to  maintain  it  ;* 
and,  if  any  should  seek  to  molest  them,  we  will  come 
like  brave  and  loyal  citizens  to  their  aid."  The  pea- 
santry of  Zurich  showed,  on  that  occasion,  as  they  have 
recently  shown  again,  that  the  strength  of  the  Church 
is  in  the  Christian  people. 

But  the  people  were  not  alone.  The  man  whom 
God  had  placed  at  their  head,  answered  worthily  to 
their  call.  Zwingle  seemed  to  multiply  himself  for  the 
service  of  God.  Whosoever,  in  any  of  the  cantons  of 
Switzerland,  suffered  persecution  for  the  Gospel's  sake, 
addressed  himself  to  him.  t  The  weight  of  business, 
the  care  of  the  churches,t  the  solicitude  inspired  by 
that  glorious  struggle  which  was  now  beginning  to  be 
waged  in  every  valley  of  his  native  land — all  pressed 
heavily  on  the  Evangelist  of  Zurich.  At  Wittemberg, 
the  tidings  of  his  courageous  deportment  were  received 
with  joy.  Luther  and  Zwingle  were  the  two  great 
luminaries  of  Upper  and  Lower  Germany  ;  and  the 
doctrine  of  salvation,  which  they  proclaimed  so  power- 
fully, was  fast  diffusing  itself  over  all  those  vast  tracts 
of  country  that  stretch  from  the  summit  of  the  Alps 
to  the  shores  of  the  Baltic  and  the  German  Ocean. 

While  the  word  of  God  was  pursuing  its  victorious 
course  over  these  spacious  regions,  we  cannot  wonder 
that  the  Pope  in  his  palace,  the  inferior  clergy  in  their 
presbyteries,  the  magistrates  of  Switzerland  in  their 
councils,  should  have  viewed  its  triumphs  with  alarm 
and  indignation.  Their  consternation  increased  every 
day.  The  people  had  been  consulted  ;  the  Christian 
people  had  again  become  something  in  the  Christian 
Church ;  their  sympathies  and  their  faith  were  now 
appealed  to,  instead  of  the  decrees  of  the  Roman  chan- 
cery. An  attack  so  formidable  as  this  must  be  met  by 
a  resistance  more  formidable  still.  On  the  16th  April, 
the  Pope  addressed  a  brief  to  the  Confederates  ;  and, 
in  the  month  of  July,  the  Diet  assembled  at  Zug,  yield- 
ing to  the  urgent  exhortations  of  the  Pontiff,  sent  a  de- 
putation to  Zurich,  Schaffhausen,  and  Appenzel,  to 
notify  to  those  states  their  fixed  determination  that  the 
new  docrtine  should  be  entirely  suppressed,  and  its 
adherents  subjected  to  the  forfeiture  of  property,  ho- 
nours, and  even  life  itself.  Such  an  announcement 
could  not  fail  to  excite  a  strong  sensation  at  Zurich ; 
but  a  resolute  answer  was  returned  from  that  canton, 
that  in  matters  of  faith,  the  word  of  God  alone  must  be 
obeyed.  When  this  reply  was  communicated  to  the 
assembly,  the  liveliest  resentment  was  manifested  on 
the  part  of  Lucerne,  Schwitz,  Uri,  Unterwalden,  Fri- 
burg,  and  Zug,  and,  forgetting  the  reputation  and  the 
strength  which  the  accession  of  Zurich  had  formerly 
imparted  to  the  infant  Confederation,  forgetting  the 
precedence  which  had  been  assigned  to  her,  the  sim- 
ple and  solemn  oaths  of  fidelity  by  which  they  were 
bound  to  her — the  many  victories  and  reverses  they 
had  shared  with  her — these  states  declared  that  they 
would  no  longer  sit  with  Zurich  in  the  Diet.  In  Swit- 
zerland, therefore,  as  well  as  in  Germany,  the  partisans 
of  Rome  were  the  first  to  rend  asunder  the  federal 
union.  But  threats  and  breaches  of  alliance  were  not 
enough.  The  fanaticism  of  the  cantons  were  clamor- 
ous for  blood  ;  and  it  soon  appeared  what  were  the 
weapons  which  Popery  intended  to  wield  against  the 
word  of  God. 

The  excellent  CExlin,^  a  friend  of  Zwingle,  was  the 

*  Meine  Herrn  sollten  auch  nur  dapfer  bey  dem  Goltsworte 
Terbleiben.  (Fiissl.  Bey  tr.  iv.  p.  107.  where  the  answer  given 
by  each  township  is  recorded.) 

f  Scribunt  e  Helvetiis  ferine  omncs  qui  proptor  Christum 
premuntur.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  348.) 

\  Negotiorum  strepitus  et  ecclesianim  curse  ita  me  undique 
quatiunt  (Ibid.) 

$  See  Vol.  ii.  p.  298, 


pastor  of  Burg,  a  village  in  the  vicinity  of  Stein,  upon 
the  Rhine.  The  bailiff,  Am-berg,  who  had  previously 
appeared  to  favour  the  cause  of  the  Gospel,*  being 
anxious  to  obtain  that  bailiwick,  had  pledged  himself 
to  the  leading  men  of  the  canton  of  Schwitz,  that  he 
would  put  down  the  new  religion.  CExlin,  though  not 
resident  within  his  jurisdiction,  was  the  first  object  of 
his  persecution. 

On  the  night  of  the  7th  of  July,  1524,  near  midnight, 
a  loud  knocking  was  heard  at  the  pastor's  door ;  it  was 
opened  ; — they  were  the  soldiers  of  the  bailiff.  They 
seized  him,  and  dragged  him  away  prisoner,  in  spite  of 
his  cries.  CExlin,  believing  that  they  meant  to  put 
him  to  death,  shrieked  out,  ••  Murder  !"  The  inhabit- 
ants rose  from  their  beds  in  affright,  and  the  whole 
village  immediately  became  a  scene  of  tumult,  the 
noise  of  which  was  heard  as  far  as  Stein.  The  sen- 
tinel, posted  at  the  castle  of  Hohenklingen,  fired  the 
alarm  gun,  the  tocsin  was  sounded,  and  the  inhabitants 
of  Stein,  Stammheim,  and  the  adjacent  places,  were 
shortly  all  a-foot  and  clustering  together  in  the  dark, 
to  ask  each  other  what  was  the  matter. 

Stammheim  was  the  residence  of  the  deputy-bailiff, 
Wirth,  whose  two  eldest  sons,  Adrian  and  John,  young 
priests  full  of  piety  and  courage,  were  zealously  engaged 
in  preaching  the  Gospel.  John  especially  was  gifted 
with  a  fervent  faith,  and  stood  prepared  to  offer  up  his 
life  in  the  cause  of  his  Saviour.  It  was  a  household 
of  the  patriarchal  cast.  Anna,  the  mother,  who  had 
brought  the  bailiff  a  numerous  family,  and  reared  them 
up  in  the  fear  of  God,  was  revered  for  her  virtues 
through  the  whole  country  round.  At  the  sound  of 
the  tumult  in  Burg,  the  father  and  bis  two  sons  came 
abroad  like  their  neighbours.  The  father  was  incensed 
when  he  found  that  the  bailiff  of  Frauenfeld  had  exer- 
cised his  authority  in  a  manner  repugnant  to  the  laws 
of  his  country.  The  sons  were  grieved  by  the  tidings 
that  their  friend  and  brother,  whose  good  example  they 
delighted  to  follow,  had  been  carried  off  like  a  criminal. 
Each  of  the  three  seized  a  halberd,  and  regardless  of  the 
fears  of  a  tender  wife  and  mother,  father  and  sons 
joined  the  troop  of  townspeople  who  had  sallied  out 
from  Stein  with  the  resolute  purpose  of  setting  their 
pastor  at  liberty.  Unfortunately,  a  band  of  those  ill- 
disposed  persons,  who  never  fail  to  make  their  appear- 
ance in  a  moment  of  disorder,  had  mingled  with  the 
burghers  in  their  march.  The  bailiffs  sergeants  were 
hotly  followed  ;  but  warned  by  the  tocsin  and  the  shouts 
of  alarm  which  echoed  on  every  side,  they  redoubled 
their  speed,  dragging  their  prisoner  along  with  them, 
and  in  a  little  time  the  Thur  was  interposed  between 
them  and  their  pursuers. 

When  the  people  of  Stein  and  Stammheim  reached 
the  bank  of  the  river  and  found  no  means  of  crossing 
it,  they  halted  on  the  spot,  and  resolved  to  send  a  de- 
putation to  Frauenfeld.  "  Oh  !"  said  the  bailiff,  Wirtb, 
"  the  pastor  of  Stein  is  so  dear  to  us  that  I  would  wil- 
lingly sacrifice  all  I  possess— my  liberty—my  very 
heart's  blood — for  his  sake."f  The  rabble,  meanwhile, 
finding  themselves  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  convent 
of  Ittengen,  occupied  by  a  company  of  Carthusians, 
who  were  generally  believed  to  have  encouraged  the 
bailiff  Am-Berg  in  his  tyranny,  entered  the  building, 
and  took  possession  of  the  refectory.  They  imme- 
diately gave  themselves  up  to  excess,  and  a  scene  of 
riot  ensued.  In  vain  did  Wirth  entreat  them  to  quit 
the  place  ;t  he  was  in  danger  of  personal  ill  treatment 
among  them.  His  son,  Adrian,  had  remained  outside 

*  Der  war  anfangs  dem  evangelic  gunstig.  (Bull.  Chr.  p. 
180.) 

t  Sender  die  kuttlen  in  Buch  fur  In  wagen.  (Bull.  Cbr.  p. 
193.) 

t  Und  bapt  sy  um  Gottes  willen  uss  dem  Kloster  zu  gaud. 
(Ibid.  p.  163.) 


RIOT— ARREST  OF  THE  WIRTHS— THE  PRISONERS  SURRENDERED. 


299 


of  the  monastery ;  John  entered  it,  but  shocked  by  wha 
he  beheld  within,  came  out  again  immediately.*  Th< 
inebriated  peasants  proceeded  to  pillage  the  cellars  ant 
granaries,  to  break  the  furniture  to  pieces,  and  to  burn 

(the  books. 
As  soon  as  the  news  of  these  disorders  reached  Zu 
rich,  the  deputies  of  the  Council  were  summoned  in 
haste,  and  orders  issued  for  all  persons  belonging  to 
the  canton  who  had  left  their  homes  to  return  to  them 
immediately.  These  orders  were  obeyed.  But  a 
crowd  of  Thurgovians,  drawn  together  by  the  tumult 
now  established  themselves  in  the  convent  for  the  sakt 
of  the  good  cheer  which  they  found  there.  A  fire  sud 
denly  broke  oul,  no  one  could  tell  how — and  the  edi 
fice  was  reduced  lo  ashes. 

Five  days  after,  the  deputies  of  the  cantons  were 
convened  at  Zug.  Nothing  was  heard  in  this  assem- 
bly but  threats  of  vengeance  and  death.  "  Let  us 
inarch,"  said  they,  "  with  our  banners  spread,  against 
!  Stein  and  Stammheim,  and  put  the  inhabitants  to  the 
sward."  The  deputy-bailiff  and  his  two  sons  had  long 
been  objects  of  especial  dislike  on  account  of  their 
faith.  "  If  any  one  is  guilty,"  said  the  deputy  from 
Zurich,  "  he  must  be  punished  ;  but  let  it  be  by  the 
rules  of  justice,  not  by  violence."  Vadian,  the  deputy 
fram  St.  Gall,  spoke  to  the  same  effect.  Hereupon, 
the  avoyer,  John  Hug,  of  Lucerne,  unable  any  longer 
to  contain  himself,  broke  out  into  frightful  impreca- 
tions, t  "The  heretic,  Zwingle,  is  the  father  of  al 
these  rebellions ;  and  you,  Doctor  of  St.  Gall,  you  fa- 
vour his  hateful  cause,  and  labour  for  its  advancement 
You  shall  sit  here  with  us  no  longer !"  The  deputy 
for  Zug  endeavoured  to  restore  order,  but  in  vain.  Va- 
dian retired ;  and  knowing  that  his  life  was  in  danger 
from  some  of  the  lower  order  of  the  people,  secretly 
left  the  town,  and,  by  a  circuitous  road,  reached  the 
convent  of  Cappel  in  safety. 

The  magistrates  of  Zurich,  inient  upon  repressing 
all  commotion,  resolved  upon  a  provisional  arrest  of 
the  individuals  against  whom  the  anger  of  the  confede- 
rates had  beeo  more  particularly  manifested.  Wirth 
and  his  sons  were  living  quietly  at  Stammheim.  "Ne- 
ver," said  Adrian  Wirth  from  the  pulpit,  "  can  the 
friends  of  God  have  anything  to  fear  from  His  ene- 
mies." The  father  was  warned  of  ihe  fate  that  awaited 
him,  and  advised  to  make  his  escape  along  with  his 
sons.  "  No,"  he  replied,  "  I  put  my  trust  in  God,  and 
will  wait  for  the  sergeants  here."  When,  at  length, 
a  party  of  soldiers  presented  themselves  at  his  door 
— "  Their  worships  of  Zurich,"  said  he,  "  might 
have  spared  themselves  this  trouble  : — had  they  on- 
ly sent  a  child  to  fetch  me,  I  would  have  obeyed 
their  bidding.1'*  The  three  Wirths  were  carried  to 
Zurich  and  lodged  in  the  prison.  Rutiman,  the  bai- 
liff of  Nussbaum,  shared  their  confinement.  They 
underwent  a  rigid  examination  ;  but  the  conduct  they 
were  proved  to  have  held  furnished  no  ground  of  com- 
plaint against  them. 

As  soon  as  the  deputies  of  the  cantons  were  apprized 
of  the  imprisonment  of  these  four  citizens,  they  de- 
manded that  they  should  be  sent  to  Baden,  and  de- 
creed, that  in  case  of  a  refusal,  an  armed  power  should 
march  upon  Zurich,  and  carry  them  off  by  force.  **  It 
belongs  of  right  to  Zurich,1'  replied  the  deputies  of  that 
canton,  "  to  determine  whether  these  men  are  guilty 
or.  not,  and  we  find  no  fault  in  them."  Hereupon,  the 
deputies  of  the  cantons  cried  out,  **  Will  you  surrender 
them  to  us,  or  not  ? — answer  yes,  or  no — in  a  single 
word."  Two  of  the  deputies  of  Zurich  mounted  their 

*  Dan  es  ira  leid  was.    (Ball.  Chr.  p.  195.) 

f  Mil  fluchen  und  wiiten.     (Ibid.  p.  184.) 

}  Dann  hattind  sy  mir  am  kind  geschikt      (Bull.  Chr.  p. 


horses  at  once,  and  repaired  with  all  speed  to  their 
constituents. 

Their  arrival  threw  the  whole  town  into  the  utmost 
agitation.  If  the  authorities  of  Zurich  should  refuse 
to  give  up  the  prisoners,  the  confederates  would  soon 
appear  in  arms  at  their  gates,  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
to  give  ifoem  up,  was,  in  effect,  to  consent  to  their 
death.  Opinions  were  divided.  Zwingle  insisted  on 
a  refusal.  «•  Zurich,"  said  he,  "  must  remain  faithful 
to  its  ancient  laws."  At  last  a  kind  of  compromise 
was  suggested.  "  We  will  deliver  up  the  prisoners," 
said  they  to  the  Diet,  "  but  on  this  condition,  that  you 
shall  examine  them  regarding  the  affair  of  Ittengen  only, 
and  not  with  reference  to  their  faith."  The  Diet 
agreed  to  this  proposition ;  and  on  the  Friday  before 
St.  Bartholomew's  day,  (August,  1524.)  the  three 
Wirths  and  their  friend  took  their  departure  from  Zu- 
rich under  the  escort  of  four  Councillors  of  State,  and 
a  few  soldiers. 

The  deepest  concern  was  manifested  on  this  occa- 
sion by  the  whole  body  of  the  people.  The  fate  which 
awaited  the  two  old  men  and  the  two  brothers  was  dis- 
tinctly foreseen.  Nothing  but  sobs  was  heard  as  they 
passed  along.  "  Alas  !"  exclaims  a  contemporary 
writer,  "what  a  woeful  journey  was  that!"*"  The 
churches  were  all  thronged.  "  God  will  punish  us,'* 
cried  Zwingte, — "  He  will  surely  punish  us.  Let  us 
at  least  beseech  Him  to  visit  those  poor  prisoners 
with  comfort,  and  strengthen  them  in  the  true  faith."t 

On  the  Friday  evening,  the  prisoners  arrived  at  Ba- 
den, where  an  immense  crowd  was  awaiting  to  receive 
them.  They  were  taken  first  to  an  inn,  and  after- 
wards to  the  jail.  The  people  pressed  so  closely 
round  to  see  them  that  they  could  scarcely  move. 
The  father,  who  walked  first,  turned  round  towards  his 
sons,  and  meekly  said — "See,  my  dear  children,  we  are 
like  those  ot  whom  the  Apostles  speak—men  appoint- 
ed to  death,  a  spectacle  to  the  world,  to  angels  and 
to  men." — (1  Cor.  iv.  9.)  Just  then  he  chanced  to 
observe,  among  the  crowd,  the  bailiff,  Am-Berg,  his 
mortal  enemy,  and  the  prime  author  of  all  his  mis- 
fortunes. He  went  up  to  him,  held  out  his  hand,  and, 
grasping  Am-Berg's, — though  the  bailiff  would  have 
turned  away, — said,  with  much  composure,  "  There  is 
a  God  above  us,  and  He  knows  all  things." 

The  examination  began  the  next  morning.  Wirth, 
the  father,  was  the  first  who  was  brought  before  the 
tribunal.  Without  the  least  consideration  for  his 
character  or  for  his  age,  he  was  put  to  the  torture  ; 
but  he  persisted  in  declaring  that  he  was  innocent 
both  of  the  pillage  and  the  burning  of  Ittingen.  A 
charge  was  then  brought  against  him  of  having  destroy- 
ed an  image  representing  St.  Anne.  As  to  the  other 
prisoners, — nothing  could  be  substantiated  against 
;hem,  except  that  Adrian  Wirth  was  married,  and  that 
le  was  accustomed  to  preach  after  the  manner  of  Z win- 
Tie  and  Luther ;  end  that  John  Wirth  had  given  the 
lolv  sacrament  to  a  sick  man  without  candle  or  bell  \t 

But  the  more  conclusively  their  innocence  was  cs- 

ablished,  the  more  furious  became  the  excitement  of 

heir  adx-ersaries.     From  morning  till  noon   of  that 

day,  the  old  man  was  made  to  endure  all  the  severity 

of  torture.     His  tears  were  of  no  avail  to  soften  the 

earts  of  his  judges.    John  Wirth  was  still  more  cruel- 

y  tormented.     "  Tell  us,"  said  they,  in  the  midst  of 

is  agonies,  "  from  whom  didst  thou  learn  thy  heretical 

creed  1     Was  it  Zwingle,  or  who  else,  that  taugh  it 

hee  1     And  when  he  was  heard  to  exclaim,  "  O  mer- 

*  O  weh  !  was  clender  Fahart  war  das  !  (Bern.  Wey«s. 
i'iissl.  Beyt.  iv.  p.  66) 

t  Sy  troste  und  in  warem  glouben  starckte.  (Bull.  Chr. 
1. 188.) 

|  On  Kerzen,  schcllcn  und  anderg  so  bisshar  gciipt  1st. 
Bull.  Chr.  p.  196.) 


300 


CRUEL  MOORINGS"— FAITHFUL  UNTO  DEATH. 


ciful  and  everasting  God !  grant  me  help  and  com- 
fort !"  "  Aha  !"  said  one  of  the  deputies,  "  where  is 
your  Christ  now  1"  When  Adrian  was  brought  for- 
ward, Sebastian  von  Stein,  a  deputy  of  Berne,  address- 
ing him  thus  : — "  Young  man,  tell  us  the  truth,  for  if 
you  refuse  to  do  so,  I  swear  by  my  knighthood, — the 
knighthood  I  received  on  the  very  spot  where  God 
suffered  martyrdom, — we  will  open  all  the  veins  in 
your  body  one  by  one."  The  young  man  was  then 
hoisted  up  by  a  cord,  and  while  he  was  swinging  in 
the  air,  "  Young  master,"  said  Stein,  with  a  fiendish 
smile,*  "this  is  our  wedding  gift ;"  alluding  to  the 
marriage  which  the  youthful  ecclesiastic  had  recently 
contracted. 

The  examination  being  now  concluded,  the  depu- 
ties returned  to  their  several  cantons  to  make  their 
report,  and  did  not  assemble  again  until  four  weeks 
had  expired.  The  bailiffs  wife, — the  mother  of  the 
two  young  priests, — repaired  to  Baden,  carrying  a 
child  in  her  arms,  to  appeal  to  the  compassion  of  the 
judges.  John  Escher,  of  Zurich,  accompanied  her  as 
her  advocate.  The  latter  recognised  among  the  judg- 
es Jerome  Stocker,  the  landamman  of  Zug,  who  had 
twice  been  bailiff  of  Frauenfeld.  "  Landamman," 
said  he,  accosting  him,  "  you  remember  the  bailiff 
"Wirth  ;  you  know  that  he  has  always  been  an  honest 
man."  "  It  is  most  true,  my  good  friend  Escher," 
replied  Stocker ;  "  he  never  did  any  one  an  injury  ; 
countrymen  and  strangers  alike  were  sure  to  find  a 
hearty  welcome  at  his  table ;  his  house  was  a  convent, 
— inn,— hospital,  all  in  one.f  And  knowing  this  as  I 
do,  had  he  committed  a  robbery  or  a  murder,  I  would 
have  spared  no  effort  to  obtain  his  pardon  ;  but  since 
he  has  burned  St.  Anne,  the  grandmother  of  Christ,  it 
is  but  right  that  he  should  die  !"— - "  Then  God  take 
pity  on  us  !"  ejaculated  Escher. 

The  gates  were  now  shut,  (this  was  on  the  28th  of 
September,)  and  the  deputies  of  Berne,  Lucerne,  Uri, 
Schwitz,  Underwald,  Zug,  Glaris,  Friburg,  and  Soleur, 
having  proceeded  agreeably  to  usage,  to  deliberate'  on 
their  judgment  with  closed  doors,  sentence  of  death 
was  passed  upon  the  bailiff,  Wirth,  his  son  John,  who,  of 
all  the  accused,  was  the  firmest  in  his  faith,  and  who 
appeared  to  have  gained  over  the  others,  and  the  bailiff, 
Rutiman.  They  spared  the  life  of  Adrian,  the  younger 
of  Wirth's  sons,  as  a  boon  to  his  weeping  mother. 

The  prisoners  were  now  brought  forth  from  the 
tower  in  which  they  had  been  confined.  "  My  son," 
said  the  father  to  Adrian,  "  we  die  an  undeserved 
death,  but  never  do  thou  think  of  avenging  it."  Ad- 
rian wept  bitterly.  "  My  brother,"  said  John,  "  where 
Christ's  word  comes  his  cross  must  follow."}: 

After  the  sentence  had  been  read  to  them,  the  three 
Christian  sufferers  were  led  back  to  prison ;  John 
"Wirth  walking  first,  the  two  bailiffs  next,  and  a  vicar 
behind  them.  As  they  crossed  the  castle  bridge,  on 
which  there  was  a  chapel  dedicated  to  St.  Joseph,  the 
vicar  called  out  to  the  two  old  men — "  Fall  on  your 
knees  and  invoke  the  saints.*'  At  these  words,  John 
Wirth,  turning  round,  said,  "  Father,  be  firm  !  You 
know  there  is  but  one  Mediator  between  God  and 
man — Christ  Jesus." — "  Assuredly,  my  son,"  replied 
the  old  man,  "  and  by  the  help  of  His  grace,  I  will  con- 
tinue faithful  to  Him,  even  to  the  end."  On  this  they 
all  three  began  to  repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer,  "Our 
Father  who  art  in  heaven"  .  .  .  And  so  they  crossed 
the  bridge. 

They  were  next  conducted  to  the  scaffold.     John 

•  Alls  man  inn  am  folter  seyl  uffzog,  sagt  der  zum  Stein  : 
Herrli,  das  ist  die  gaab  diewir  iich  du  iiwer  Hussfrowen 
schanckend.  (Ibid.  p.  196.) 

+  Sin  huss  ist  allwey  gsin  wie  ein  Kloster,  wirtshuss 
und  Spitall.  (Bull.  Chr.  p.  193.) 

J  Duch  all waag  das  crutz  darbey .    (Ibid.) 


Wirth,  whose  heart  was  filled  with  the  tenderest  so- 
licitude for  his  father,  bade  him  a  solemn  farewell. 
"  My  beloved  father,"  said  he,  "  henceforth  thou  art 
my  father  no  longer,  and  I  am  no  longer  thy  son  ; — 
but  we  are  brothers  still  in  Christ  our  Lord,  for  whose 
name's  sake  we  are  doomed  to  suffer  death.*  So 
now,  if  such  be  God's  will,  my  beloved  brother,  let 
us  depart  to  be  with  Him  who  is  the  father  of  us  all. 
Fear  nothing!" — "Amen!"  answered  the  old  man, 
"  and  may  God  Almighty  bless  thee,  my  beloved  son, 
and  brother  in  Christ." 

Thus,  on  the  threshold  of  eternity  did  father  and 
son  take  their  leave  of  each  other,  with  joyful  anticipa- 
tions of  that  unseen  state  in  which  they  should  be  uni- 
ted anew  by  imperishable  ties.  There  were  but  few 
among  the  multitude  around  whose  tears  did  not  flow 
profusely.  The  bailiff  Rutiman  prayed  in  silence,  t 
All  three  then  knelt  down  "  in  Christ's  name." — and 
their  heads  were  severed  from  their  bodies. 

The  crowd,  observing  the  marks  of  torture  on  their 
persons,  uttered  loud  expessions  of  grief.  The  two 
bailiffs  left  behind  them  twenty-two  children  and  forty- 
five  grand-children.  Anna  was  obliged  to  pay  twelve 
golden  crowns  to  the  executioner  by  whom  her  hus- 
band and  son  had  been  deprived  of  life. 

Now  at  length  blood  had  been  spilt — innocent  blood. 
Switzerland  and  the  Reformation  were  baptized  with 
the  blood  of  the  martyrs.  The  great  enemy  of  the 
Gospel  had  effected  his  purpose  ;  but  in  effecting  it  he 
had  struck  a  mortal  blow  against  his  own  power.  The 
death  of  the  Wirths  was  an  appointed  means  of  has- 
tening the  triumph  of  the  Reformation. 

The  Reformers  of  Zurich  had  abstained  from  abo- 
lishing the  mass  when  they  suppressed  the  use  of 
images  ;  but  the  moment  for  doing  so  seemed  now  to 
have  arrived. 

Not  only  had  the  light  of  the  Gospel  been  diffused 
among  the  people — but  the  violence  of  the  enemy 
called  upon  the  friends  of  God's  word  to  reply  by 
some  striking  demonstration  of  their  unshaken  con- 
stancy. As  often  as  Rome  shall  erect  a  scaffold,  arid 
heads  shall  drop  upon  it,  so  often  shall  the  Reforma- 
tion exalt  the  Lord's  holy  Word,  and  crush  some 
hitherto  untouched  corruption.  When  Hottinger  was 
executed,  Zurich  put  down  the  worship  of  images, 
and  now  that  the  Wirths  have  been  sacrificed,  Zurich 
shall  reply  by  the  abolition  of  the  Mass.  While 
Rome  fills  up  the  measure  of  her  severities  the  Refor- 
mation shall  be  conscious  of  a  perpetual  accession  of 
strength. 

On  the  llth  of  August,  1525,  the  three  pastors  of 
Zurich,  accompanied  by  Megander,  and  Oswald  and 
Myconius,  presented  themselves  before  the  Great 
Council,  and  demanded  the  re-establishment  of  the 
Lord's  Supper.  Their  discourse  was  a  weighty  one,£ 
and  was  listened  to  with  the  deepest  attention  ; — every 
one  felt  how  important  was  the  decision  which  the 
Council  was  called  upon  to  pronounce.  The  mass — 
that  mysterious  rite  which  for  three  successive  centu- 
ries had  constituted  the  animating  principle  in  the  wor- 
ship of  the  Latin  Church — was  now  to  be  abrogated 
— the  corporeal  presence  of  Christ  was  to  be  declared 
an  illusion,  and  of  that  illusion,  the  minds  of  the  peo- 
ple were  to  be  dispossessed  ;  some  courage  was  needed 
for  such  a  resolution  as  this,  and  there  were  individuals 
in  the  Council  who  shuddered  at  the  contemplation  of 
so  audacious  a  design.  Joachim  Am-Griit,  the  under 
secretary  of  state,  was  alarmed  by  the  demand  of  the 
pastors,  and  opposed  it  with  all  his  might.  "  The 

Furohin  bist  du  nitt  me  min  Vatter  und  ich  din  sun. 
sondern  wir  sind  briidern  in  Christo.   (Bull.  Chr.  p.  204.) 
t  Des  gnadens  weyneten  vil  Luthen  herzlich.    (Ibid.) 
j  Uncf  vennantend  die  ernstlich.    (Bull.  Chr.  p.  263.) 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER— BROTHERLY  LOVE— ZWINGLE  ON  ORIGINAL  SIN.      SOI 


words,  "  This  is  my  body"  said  he,  "  prove  beyond 
all  dispute  that  the  bread  is  the  very  body  of  Christ 
himself."  Zwingle  argued  that  there  is  no  other 
word  in  the  Greek  language  than  son  (is)  to  express 
signifies,  and  he  quoted  several  instances  of  the  em- 
ployment of  that  word  in  a  figurative  sense.  The 
Great  Council  was  convinced  by  his  reasoning,  and 
hesitated  no  longer.  The  evangelical  doctrine  had 
sunk  deep  into  every  heart,  and  moreover,  since  a  se- 
paration from  the  Church  of  Rome  had  taken  place, 
there  was  a  kind  of  satisfaction  felt  in  making  that 
separation  as  complete  as  possible,  and  digging  a  gulf 
as  it  were  between  the  Reformation  and  her.  The 
Council  decreed  therefore  that  the  mass  should  be 
abolished,  and  it  was  determined  that  on  the  following 
day,  which  was  Maundy  Thursday,  the  Lord's  Supper 
should  be  celebrated  in  conformity  to  the  apostolic 
model. 

Zwingle's  mind  had  been  deeply  engaged  in  these 
proceedings  ;  and  at  night,  when  he  closed  his  eyes, 
he  was  still  searching  for  arguments  with  which  to 
confront  his  adversaries.  The  subject  that  had  occu- 
pied him  during  the  day,  presented  itself  to  him  again 
in  a  dream.  He  thought  that  he  was  disputing  with 
Ara-Gru^  and  could  not  find  an  answer  to  his  principal 
objection.  Suddenly  some  one  stood  before  him  in  his 
dream  and  said,  "  Why  dost  not  thou  quote  the  llth 
verse  of  the  12th  chapter  of  Exodus  :  Ye  shall  eat  the 
Lamb  in  haste  ;  it  is  the  Lord's  Passover  ?"  Zwin- 
gle awoke,  arose  from  his  bed,  took  up  the  Septuagint 
translation,  and  turning  to  the  verse,  he  found  the  same 
word  £»«  (is)  whose  import  in  that  passage  by  univer- 
sal admission,  can  be  no  other  than  signifies. 

Here,  then,  in  the  very  constitution  of  the  paschal 
feast  under  the  old  covenant,  was  the  phrase  employed 
in  that  identical  sense  which  Zwingle  assigned  to  it — 
who  could  resist  the  conclusion  that  the  two  passages 
are  parallel  * 

On  the  following  day,  Zwingle  took  the  verse  just 
mentioned  as  the  text  of  his  discourse,  and  reasoned 
so  forcibly  from  it,  that  the  doubts  of  his  hearers  were 
dispelled. 

The  incident  which  has  now  been  related,  and  which 
is  so  naturally  explained — and  the  particular  expres- 
sion* used  by  Zwingle  to  intimate  that  he  had  no  re- 
collection of  the  aspect  of  the  person  whom  he  saw  in 
his  dream,  have  given  rise  to  the  assertion  that  the 
doctrine  promulgated  by  the  Reformer  was  delivered 
to  him  by  the  devil ! 

The  altars  disappeared  ;  some  plain  tables,  covered 
with  the  sacramental  bread  and  wine,  occupied  their 
places,  and  a  crowd  of  eager  communicants  was  ga- 
thered round  them.  There  was  something  exceed- 
ingly solemn  in  that  assemblage.  Our  Lord's  death 
was  commemorated  on  three  different  days,  by  differ- 
ent portions  of  the  community  : — on  Maunday  Thurs- 
day, by  the  young  people  ;  on  Good  Friday,  the  day 
of  his  passion,  by  those  who  had  reached  the  middle 
stage  of  life  ;  on  Easter  Sunday  by  the  aged.f 

After  the  deacons  had  read  aloud  such  passages  ol 
Scripture  as  related  to  this  sacrament,  the  pastors  ad- 
dressed their  flock  in  the  language  of  pressing  admo- 
nition—charging all  those  whose  wilful  indulgence  in 
sin  would  bring  dishonour  on  the  body  of  Christ  to 
withdraw  from  that  holy  feast.  The  people  then  fel" 
on  their  knees  ;  the  bread  was  carried  round  on  larg< 
wooden  dishes  or  platters,  and  every  one  broke  off  a 
morsel  for  himself ;  the  wine  was  distributed  in  wooden 
drinking  cups ;  the  resemblance  to  the  primitive  Sup 
per  was  thought  to  be  the  closer.  The  hearts  of  the 


*  Ater  fucrit  an  albes  nihil 
\  Fusslin  Beytr.  iv.  p.  64. 


iini,  somnium  enim  narro 


who  celebrated  this  ordinance  were  effected  with  alter- 
ate  emotions  of  wonder  and  joy.* 

Such  was  the  progress  of  the  Reformation  at  Zu- 
ich.  The  simple  commemoration  of  our  Lord's  death, 
aused  a  fresh  overflow  in  the  Church,  of  love  to  God, 
nd  love  to  the  brethren.  The  words  of  Jesus  Christ 
vere  once  more  proved  to  be  «  spirit  and  life.'  Where- 
s  the  different  orders  and  sections  of  the  Church  of 
lome  had  kept  up  incessant  disputes  among  them- 
elves,  the  first  effect  of  the  Gospel,  on  its  reappear- 
nce  in  the  Church,  was  the  revival  of  brotherly  cha- 
ty.  The  Love  which  had  glowed  so  brightly  in  the 
rst  ages  of  Christianity,  was  now  kindled  anew. 
VIen,  who  had  before  been  at  variance,  were  found 
enouncing  their  long-cherished  enmity,  and  cordially 
mbracing  each  other,  after  having  broken  bread  to- 
;ether  at  the  table  of  the  Lord.  Zwingle  rejoiced  at 
hese  affecting  manifestations  of  grace,  and  returned 
hanks  to  God  that  the  Lord's  Supper  was  again  work- 
ng  those  miracles  of  charity,  which  had  long  since 
eased  to  be  displayed  in  connexion  with  the  sacrifice 
f  the  mass.f 

"  Our  city,"  said  he,  "  continues  at  peace.  There 
s  no  fraud,  no  dissension,  no  envy,  no  wrangling 
imong  us.  Where  shall  we  discover  the  cause  of 
his  agreement  except  in  the  Lord's  good  pleasure, 
and  the  harmlessness  and  meekness  of  the  doctrine 
we  profess  I"t 

Charity  and  unity  were  there — but  not  uniformity. 
Zwingle,  in  his  "  Commentary  on  true  and  false  re- 
igion,"§  which  he  dedicated  to  Francis  the  First,  in 
1525,  the  year  of  the  battle  of  Pavia,  had  stated  some 
truths  in  a  manner  that  seemed  adapted  to  recommend 
hem  to  human  reason,  following  in  that  respect  the 
example  of  several  of  the  most  distinguished  among 
,he  scholastic  theologians.  In  this  way  he  had  at- 
tached to  original  corruption  the  appellation  of  a  dis- 
ease, reserving  the  name  of  sin  for  the  actual  viola- 
tion of  law.H  But  these  statements,  though  they 
gave  rise  to  some  objections,  yet  occasioned  no  breach 
of  brotherly  charity  ;  for  Zwingle,  while  he  persisted 
n  calling  original  sin  a  disease,  added,  by  that  disease, 
all  men  were  ruined,  and  that  the  sole  remedy  was  in 
Jesus  Christ.^T  Here  then  was  no  taint  of  Pelegian 
error. 

But  while  in  Zurich  the  celebntion  of  the  sacra- 
ment was  followed  by  the  re-establishment  of  Christian 
brotherhood,  Zwingle  arid  his  friends  had  to  sustain  a 
harder  struggle  than  ever  against  their  adversaries 
without.  Zwingle  was  not  only  a  Christian  teacher, 
he  was  a  true  patriot  also ;  and  we  know  how  zea- 
lously he  always  opposed  the  capitulations,  and  foreign 
pensions,  and  alliances.  He  was  persuaded  that  this 
extraneous  influence  was  destructive  to  piety,  contri- 
buted to  the  maintenance  of  error,  and  was  a  fruitful 
source  of  civil  discord.  But  his  courageous  protests 
on  this  head  were  destined  to  impede  the  progress  of 
the  Reformation.  In  almost  every  canton,  the  lead- 
ng  men,  who  received  the  foreign  pensions,  and  the 
officers  under  whose  command  the  youth  of  Switzer- 

Mit  grossem  verwundern  viler  Liithen  und  noch  mit  vil 
grossern  frouden  der  gloubigen.  (Bull.  Chr.  p.  264.) 

f  Expositio  fidei.    (Zw.  Opp.  ii.  p.  241.) 

f  Ut  tranquillitatis  et  innocentias  studiosos  reddat.  (Zw. 
Epp.p.390.1 

§  De  vera  et  falsa  religione  commentarius.  Z\v.  Opp.  HI- 
p.  145,  325.) 

Ii  Peccatum  ergo  mot-bus  est  cognatus  nobis,  quo  fugimus 
asperaet  gravia,  sectamur  jucunda  et  voluptuosa  ;  secondo 
loco  accipitur  peccatum  pro  eo  quod  contra  legem  fit.  (Ibid, 
p.  204.)  . 

IT  Originali  morbo  perdimur  omnes  ;  remedio  vero  quod 
contra  ipsum  invenit  Deus,  incolumitati  restituimur.  (De 
peccato  original!  declaratio  ad  Urbanum  Rhegium.)  (Ibid, 
p.  632.) 


302      ATTACK  UPON  ZWINGLE— THE  GOSPEL  AT  BEKNE— HEIM  AND  HALLER 


land  were  led  out  to  battle,  were  knit  together  in 
powerful  factions  and  oligarchies,  which  attacked  the 
Reformation,  not  so  much  in  the  spirit  of  religious 
animosity,  as  in  the  belief  that  its  success  would  be 
detrimental  to  their  own  pecuniary  and  political  inter- 
ests. They  had  already  gained  a  triumph  in  Schwitz, 
and  that  canton,  in  which  Zwingle,  Leo  Juda,  and 
Oswald  Myconius  had  preached  the  truth,  and  which 
seemed  disposed  to  follow  the  example  of  Zurich,  had, 
on  a  sudden,  renewed  the  mercenary  capitulations,  and 
closed  the  door  against  the  Gospel. 

In  Zurich  itself,  a  few  worthless  persons,  instigated 
to  mischief  by  foreign  agency,  made  an  attack  upon 
Zwingle,  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  throwing  stones 
at  his  house,  breaking  the  windows,  and  calling  aloud 
for  "  red  haired  Uli,  the  vulture  of  Claris,"  so  that 
Zwingle  started  from  his  sleep,  and  caught  up  his 
sword.*  The  action  is  characteristic  of  the  man. 

But  these  desultory  assaults  could  not  counteract 
the  impulse  by  which  Zurich  was  carried  onward,  and 
which  was  beginning  to  vibrate  throughout  the  whole 
of  Switzerland.  They  were  like  pebbles  thrown  to 
check  the  course  of  a  torrent.  The  waters  of  the  tor- 
rent meanwhile  were  swelling,  and  the  mightiest  of 
its  obstacles  were  likely  soon  to  be  swept  away. 

The  people  of  Berne  having  intimated  to  the  citi- 
zens of  Zurich,  that  several  of  the  cantons  had  refused 
to  sit  with  them  any  longer  in  the  Diet : — "  Well," 
replied  the  men  of  Zurich,  with  calm  dignity,  raising 
(as  in  times  past  the  men  of  Rutli  had  done)  their  hands, 
toward  heaven,  "  we  are  persuaded  that  God  the  Fa- 
ther, Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  in  whose  name  the  Con- 
federation has  been  formed,  will  not  forsake  us,  and 
will,  at  last,  in  his  mercy,  make  us  to  sit  at  the  right- 
hand  of  His  majesty."! 

With  such  a  faithful  spirit,  there  was  nothing  to  fear 
for  the  Reformation.  But  would  it  make  similar  pro- 
gress in  the  other  states  of  the  Confederation  1  Might 
not  Zurich  be  single  on  the  side  of  the  word  of  God  1 
Berne,  Basle,  and  other  cantons,  would  they  remain 
in  their  subjection  to  Rome  1  It  is  this  we  are  now 
to  see.  Lot  us  then  turn  toward  Berne,  and  contem- 
plate the  march  of  the  Reformation  in  the  most  influ- 
ential of  the  confederated  states. 

Nowhere  was  the  contest  likely  to  be  so  sharp  as 
at  Berne,  for  the  Gospel  had  there  both  powerful  friends 
and  determined  opponents.  At  the  head  of  the  reform- 
ing party  was  the  banneret  John  Weingarten,  Bartho- 
lomew May,  member  of  the  lesser  Council,  his  sons, 
Wolfgang  and  Claudius,  his  grand-sons,  James  and 
Benedict,  and,  above  all,  the  family  of  the  Wattevilles. 
James  Watteville,  the  magistrate,  who,  since  1512, 
had  presided  over  the  republic,  had  read  the  writings 
of  Luther  and  Zwingle,  at  the  time  of  their  publication, 
and  had  often  conversed  concerning  the  Gospel  with 
John  Haller,  pastor  at  Anseltingcn,  whom  he  had  pro- 
tected from  his  persecutors. 

His  son,  Nicholas,  then  thirty-one  years  of  age,  had, 
for  two  years,  filled  the  office  of  provost  in  the  church 
of  Berne  ;  and,  as  such,  by  virtue  of  papal  ordinances, 
enjoyed  distinguished  privileges;  so  that,  Berthold 
Haller,  in  speaking  of  him,  would  call  him  "  our  Bi- 
shop."! 

The  prelates  and  the  Pope  used  every  effort  to  bind 
him  to  the  interests  of  Rome.Q  and  the  circumstances 
in  which  he  was  placed,  seemed  likely  to  keep  him 
from  the  knowledge  of  the  Gospel ;  but  the  workings 

*  Intcrea  surgere  Zuinglius  ad  ensem  suum.    (Zw.  Opp.  iii. 

p.  411.) 

t  Bey  ihm  zuletzt  sitzen.    (Kirchhofer.  Ref  v.  Bern.  p.  55.) 

i  Episcepus  noster  Vadivilliut      (Zw.  Epp.  p.  285 ) 

$  Tnntum  favoris  et  amicitise  quae  tibi  cum  tanto  summorum 

pontificum  ot  potentissimorum  episcoporum  ccetu  haotenus 

interccsiit.    (Zw.  Opp.  i.  ed.  lat.  p.  305.) 


of  God's  Spirit  were  more  powerful  than  the  flatteries 
of  man.  "  Watteville,"  says  Zwingle,*  "  was  turned 
from  darkness  to  the  sweet  light  of  the  Gospel."  A» 
the  friend  of  Berthold  Haller,  he  was  accustomed  to 
read  the  letters  which  he  received  from  Zwingle,  for 
whom  he  expressed  the  highest  admiration.! 

It  was  natural  to  suppose  that  the  influence  of  the 
two  Wattevilles,  the  one  being  at  the  head  of  the  state, 
and  the  other  of  the  church,  would  draw  after  it  the 
republic  over  which  they  presided.  But  the  opposite 
party  was  scarcely  less  powerful. 

Among  its  chiefs  were  the  schultheiss  of  Erlach,  the 
banneret,  Willading,  and  many  persons  of  high  family, 
whose  interests  were  identified  with  those  of  the  con- 
vent placed  under  their  administration.  Backing  these 
influential  leaders  was  an  ignorant  and  corrupted  clergy, 
who  went  the  length  of  calling  Gospel  truth,  "  an  in- 
vention of  hell."  "  Beloved  colleagues,"  said  the 
counsellor  of  Mullinen,  at  a  full  conference,  held  in  the 
month  of  July,  "  be  on  your  guard,  lest  this  Reforma- 
tion should  creep  in  upon  us.  There  is  no  safety  at 
Zurich  in  one's  own  house :  people  are  obliged  to  have 
soldiers  to  guard  them."  In  consequence,  they  invit- 
ed to  Berne  the  lecturer  of  the  Dominicans  at  Mentz, 
John  Heirri;  who,  taking  his  stand  in  the  pulpit,  poured 
forth  all  the  eloquence  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  against 
the  Reformation.^: 

Thus,  then,  the  two  parties  were  in  presence  of  each 
other ;  a  struggle  seemed  inevitable,  but  already  there 
were  indications  with  whom  the  victory  would  remain. 
In  fact,  a  common  faith  united  a  part  of  the  people  to 
those  distinguished  families  who  espoused  the  Refor- 
mation. Berthold  Haller  exclaimed,  full  of  confidence 
in  the  future,  "  Unless,  indeed,  the  wrath  of  God  should 
show  itself  against  us,  it  is  not  possible  that  (he  word 
of  the  Lord  should  be  banished  from  the  city,  for  the 
Bernese  are  hungering  after  it."$ 

Two  acts  of  the  government  soon  appeared  to  in* 
cline  the  balance  in  favour  of  the  new  opinions.  The 
Bishop  of  Lausanne  had  given  notice  of  an  episcopal 
visitation  ;  the  Council  sent  a  message  to  him  by  the 
provost,  Watteville,  desiring  him  to  abstain  from  it.K 
And,  in  the  mean  time,  the  government  put  forth  an 
ordinance,  which,  while  in  appearance  it  left  the  enemies 
of  the  truth  in  possession  of  some  of  their  advantage^ 
at  the  same  time  sanctioned  the  principles  on  which  the 
Reformation  was  founded.  They  directed  that  the 
ministers  should  preach,  clear  of  all  additions — freely 
and  openly — the  Gospel  and  the  doctrine  of  God,  as  it 
is  found  in  the  books  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  ; 
and  that  they  should  not  allude  to  any  doctrine,  disputa- 
tion, or  writing  coming  from  Luther  or  other  teachers.^" 

Great  was  the  surprise  of  the  enemies  of  the  truth, 
when  they  saw  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel  appealing 
with  confidence  to  this  decree.  This  ordinance,  which 
was  to  furnish  the  ground  for  all  those  that  succeeded, 
was,  legally  speaking,  the  commencement  of  the  Re- 
formation at  Berne.  From  that  time,  there  was  more 
decision  in  the  progress  of  this  canton;  and  Zwingle, 
who  attentively  observed  all  that  was  passing  in  Swit- 
zerland, was  able  to  write  to  the  provost  de  Watte- 
ville. "  Christians  are  all  exulting  on  account  of  the 
faith  which  the  pious  city  of  Berne  has  just  received."** 

Ex  obscuris  ignorantias  tenebris  in  amcenam  Evangelii  lu- 

cem  productum.     (Zw.  Opp.  i.  ed.  lat.  p.  305.) 

t  Epistolas  tuas  et  eruditionis  et  humanitatis  testes  locuple- 

tissimas.     (Zw.  Epp.  p  287.) 
\  Suo  Thomistico  Marte  omnia  invertere.     (Ibid.) 
^  Famem  verb!  Bernates  habent      (Zw.  Epp.  p.  '295.) 
||  Ut  nee  oppidum,  ncc  pages  Bernatum  visitare  praetcndat 

omnino.     (Ibid.) 
1  Aleim  das  heilig  Evangelium  und  die  leer  Gottes  frey, 

offentlich  und  unverborgen.     (Bull.  Chr.  p.  111.) 
«*  Alle  Christen  sich  allcnthalben  fniuwend  des  Glaubens. 

..  (Zw.  Opp.i.p.  426.) 


ST.  MICHAEL'S  NUNNERY— THE  CONVENT  OF  KON1GSFELD. 


303 


"The  cause  is  that  of  Christ,"  exclaimed  the  friends 
of  the  Gospel,  and  they  exerted  themselves  to  advance 
it  with  increased  confidence.*  The  enemies  of  the 
Reformation,  alarmed  at  these  first  advantages,  closet 
their  ranks,  and  resolved  on  striking  a  blow  which 
should  ensure  victory  on  their  side.  They  conceivec 
the  project  of  getting  rid  of  those  ministers  whose  bole 
preaching  was  turning  all  the  ancient  customs  upside 
down  ;  and  a  favourable  occasion  was  not  long  want- 
ing. There  was,  at  Berne,  in  the  place  where  now 
stands  the  hospital  de  1'Ile,  a  convent  of  nuns  of  the 
Dominican  order,  consecrated  to  St.  Michael.  St. 
Michael's  day,  (29th  of  September,)  was  always  a  so- 
lemn festival  to  the  inmates  of  the  nunnery.  On  this 
anniversary,  many  of  the  clergy  were  present,  and 
among  others,  Wittembach  de  Bienne,  Sebastian  Mey- 
er, and  Berthold  Haller.  This  latter,  having  entered 
into  conversation  with  the  nuns,  among  whom  was 
Clara,  the  daughter  of  Claudius  May,  (one  of  those 
who  maintained  the  new  doctrines,)  he  remarked  to 
her,  in  the  presence  of  her  grandmother,  "  the  merits 
of  the  monastic  state  are  but  imaginary,  while  mar- 
riage is  honourable,  and  instituted  by  God  himself.' 
Some  nuns,  to  whom  Clara  related  this  conversation 
of  Berthold,  received  it  with  outcries.  It  was  soon 
rumoured  in  the  city  that  Haller  had  asserted  that  "the 
nuns  were  all  children  of  the  devil."  The  opportunity 
that  the  enemies  of  the  Reformation  had  waited  for, 
was  now  arrived  ;  and  they  presented  themselves  be 
fore  the  lesser  Council.  Referring  to  an  ancient 
law,  which  enacted  that  whosoever  should  carry  off  a 
nun  from  her  convent  should  lose  his  head,  they  pro 
posed  that  the  "  sentence  should  be  mitigated"  so  far  as 
that,  without  hearing  the  three  accused  ministers  in 
their  defence,  they  should  be  banished  for  life  !  The 
lesser  Council  granted  the  petition,  and  the  matter  was 
immediately  carried  to  the  grand  Council. 

Thus,  then,  Berne  was  threatened  with  the  loss  of 
her  Reformers.  The  intrigues  of  the  Popish  party 
seemed  successful.  But  Rome,  triumphant  when  she 
played  her  game  with  the  higher  orders,  was  beaten 
when  she  had  to  do  with  the  people  or  their  represen- 
tatives. Hardly  were  the  names  of  Haller,  of  Meyer, 
of  Wittembach — those  names  held  in  veneration  by  all 
the  Swiss — pronounced  in  the  grand  Council,  before 
an  energetic  opposition  was  manifested  against  the 
lesser  Council  and  the  clergy.  ««  We  cannot,"  said 
Tillman,  "  condemn  the  accused  unheard  !  .  .  Surely 
their  own  testimony  may  be  received  against  that  of  a 
few  women."  The  ministers  were  called  up.  There 
seemed  no  way  of  settling  matters.  "  Let  us  admit 
the  statements  of  both  parties,"  said  John  Weingart- 
en.  They  did  so,  and  discharged  the  accused  minis- 
ters— at  the  same  time  desiring  them  to  confine  them- 
selves to  the  duties  of  their  pulpits,  and  not  to  trouble 
themselves  concerning  the  cloisters.  But  the  pulpit 
was  all  they  wanted  :  their  accusers  had  taken  nothing 
by  their  motion.  It  was  counted  a  great  victory  gained 
by  the  Reforming  party,  insomuch  that  one  of  the  lead- 
ing men  exclaimed,  "It  is  all  over  now— Luther's 
work  must  go  forward."t 

And  go  forward  it  did— and  that  in  places  where 
it  could  least  have  been  expected.  At  Konigsfeld, 
upon  the  river  Aar,  near  the  castle  of  Hapsburg,  stood 
a  monastery  adorned  with  all  the  magnificence  of  the 
middle  ages,  and  in  which  reposed  the  ashes  of  many  of 
that  illustrious  house  which  had  so  often  given  an  em- 
peror to  Germany.  To  this  place  the  noble  families 
of  Switzerland  and  of  Suabia  used  to  send  their  daugh- 
ters to  take  the  veil.  It  was  in  the  neighbourhood  of 

*  Christi  ncgotium  agitur.     (Zw.  Epp.  9th  May,  1523.) 
f  Es  ist  nun  gethan.    Der  Lutherische  Handel  muss  vorge- 
hen.     (Anshelm.  Wirtz,  K.  O.  V.  p.  390.) 


this  convent  that  the  Emperor  Albert  had  fallen  by  the 
hand  of  his  nephew,  John,  of  Suabia,  on  the  1st  of 
May,  1308,  and  the  beautiful  stained  windows  of  the 
church  at  Konigsfeld  represented  the  horrible  tortures 
which  had  been  inflicted  upon  the  relations  and  depend- 
ants of  the  perpetrators  of  the  murder.  Catherine,  of 
Waldburg-Truchsess,  abbess  of  the  convent  at  the  pe- 
riod of  the  Reformation,  numbered  among  her  nuns, 
Beatrice  Landenberg,  sister  of  the  Bishop  of  Con- 
stance, Agnes  Mullirien,  Catherine  Bonstettin,  and 
Margaret  Watteville,  sister  of  the  provost.  The  li- 
berty enjoyed  in  this  convent,  a  liberty  which  in  ear- 
lier times  had  given  occasion  to  scandalous  disorders, 
had  favoured  the  introduction  not  only  of  the  Bible, 
but  of  the  writings  of  Luther  and  Zwingle  ;  and  soon 
a  new  spring  of  life  and  joy  changed  the  aspect  of  its 
interior.  Nigh  to  that  cell  to  which  Queer!  Agnes, 
daughter  of  Albert,  had  retired,  after  bathing  in  torrents 
of  blood  "  as  in  Maydews  ;"  and  where,  dividing  her 
time  between  spinning  wool  and  embroidering  tapestry 
for  the  church,  she  had  mingled  thoughts  of  vengeance 
with  devotional  exercises — Margaret  Watteville  had 
only  thoughts  of  peace — read  the  Scriptures — and 
found  time,  in  her  spare  moments,  to  compound  of 
certain  salutary  ingredients,  an  excellent  electuary. 
Retiring  to  her  cell,  the  youthful  nun  took  courage  to 
write  to  the  Reformer  of  Switzerland.  Her  letter  dis- 
covers to  us,  better  than  any  reflections  could  do,  the 
Christian  spirit  which  existed  among  those  pious  wo- 
men— still,  even  in  our  days,  so  much  calumniated. 

"  Grace  and  peace,  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  be 
given  and  multiplied  toward  you  always,  by  God  our 
heavenly  father,"  was  the  language  of  the  nun  of  Kon- 
gsfeld  to  Zwingle :  "  Very  learned,  reverend,  and 
most  dear  sir,  I  pray  you  to  take  in  good  part  this  let- 
ter which  I  now  address  to  you.  The  love  of  Christ 
constrains  me — especially  since  I  have  learned  that  the 
doctrines  of  grace  are  spreading  from  day  to  day  through 
your  preaching  of  the  word  of  God.  For  this  cause  I 
give  thanks  to  the  eternal  God,  for  that  he  has  enlight- 
ened us  anew,  and  has  sent  us,  by  His  holy  spirit,  so 
many  heralds  of  His  blessed  word  ;  and  at  the  same 
time  I  present  before  him  my  earnest  prayers,  that  He 
will  be  pleased  to  clothe  with  His  strength,  both  you 
and  all  those  who  publish  His  glad  tidings — and  that 
arming  you  against  all  enemies  of  the  truth,  He  will 
cause  His  divine  word  to  grow  in  all  men.  Most  learn- 
ed sir,  I  take  the  liberty  of  sending  to  your  reverence 
this  little  mark  of  my  affection  ;  I  pray  you  do  not  des- 
pise it,  for  it  is  an  offering  of  Christian  love.  If  this 
electuary  should  be  useful  to  you,  and  you  should  wish 
;o  have  more,  pray  let  me  know,  for  it  would  be  a  joy 
to  my  heart  to  do  anything  that  would  be  agreeable  to 
you.  I  am  writing  not  my  own  feelings  only,  but  those 
of  all  in  our  convent  of  Konigsfeld  who  love  the  gos- 
>el.  They  salute  you  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  we  together 
cease  not  to  commend  you  to  His  Almighty  protection.* 

"  Saturday  before  L&tare,  1523." 

Such  was  the  pious  letter  which  the  nun  of  Kb'nigs* 
eld  wrote  to  the  Reformer  of  Switzerland. 

A  convent  into  which  the  light  of  the  gospel  had  pe- 
netrated in  such  power,  could  not  long  continue  to  ad- 
lere  to  monastic  observances.  Margaret  Watteville, 
and  her  sisters,  persuaded  that  they  should  better 
erve  God  in  their  families  than  in  a  cloister,  solicited 
lermission  to  leave  it.  The  council  of  Berne,  in  some 
alarm,  took  measures  to  bring  the  nuns  to  reason,  and 
he  provincial  and  abbess  alternately  tried  promises  and 
hreats,  but  the  sisters,  Margaret,  Agnes,  and  Cathe- 
ine,  and  their  friends,  could  not  be  dissuaded.  On 
his,  the  discipline  of  the  convent  was  relaxed — the 

Cujus  prassidio  auxilioque  praesentissimo,  nos  vestrain 
ignitatem  assidue  commendamus.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  380.) 


304 


PRETENDED  LETTER  OF  ZWINGLE— THE  SEAT  OF  LEARNING. 


nuns  being  exempted  from  fasting  and  matins,  and  their 
allowance  increased.  "  We  desire,"  said  they,  in  re- 
ply to  the  council,  "  not  'the  liberty  of  the  flesh  '  but 
that  of  the  spirit.  We,  your  poor,  unoffending  pri- 
soners, beseech  you  to  take  compassion  on  us." — 
"  Our  prisoners  f  our  prisoners,"  exclaimed  the  ban- 
neret, Krauchthaler  ;  "  /  have  no  wish  to  detain  them 
prisoners  !"  This  speech,  coming  from  a  firm  defender 
of  the  convents,  decided  the  council.  The  gates  were 
opened  ;  and  a  short  time  afterward  Catherine  Bonn- 
stetten  married  William  von  Diesbach. 

Nevertheless  Berne,  instead  of  openly  taking  part 
with  the  Reformation,  did  but  hold  a  middle  course, 
and  pursue  a  system  of  vacillation.  An  incident  soon 
occurred  which  made  this  apparent.  Sebastian  Meyer, 
lecturer  of  the  Franciscans,  put  forth  a  recantation  of 
Romish  errors,  which  produced  an  immense  sensation ; 
and,  in  which,  depicting  the  condition  of  the  inmates 
of  convents,  he  said,  "  The  living  in  them  is  more  im- 
pure, the  falls  more  frequent,  the  recoveries  more 
tardy,  the  habitual  walk  more  unsteady,  the  moral 
slumber  in  them  more  dangerous,  the  grace  toward 
offenders  more  rare,  and  the  cleansing  from  sin  more 
slow,  the  death  more  despairing,  and  the  condemnation 
more  severe."*  At  the  very  time  when  Meyer  was 
thus  declaring  himself  against  the  cloisters,  John  Heim, 
lecturer  of  the  Dominicans,  exclaimed  from  the  pulpit, 
"  No  !  Christ  has  not,  as  the  evangelicals  tell  us,  made 
satisfaction  once  for  all,  to  his  Father.  God  must 
still  farther  every  day  be  reconciled  to  men  by  good 
works  and  the  sacrifices  of  the  mass.'*  Two  burghers 
who  happened  to  be  in  the  church,  interrupted  him 
with  the  words,  "  That's  not  true."  The  interruption 
caused  a  great  disturbance  in  the  church  ;  and  Heim 
remained  silent.  Some  pressed  him  to  go  on ;  but  he 
left  the  pulpit  without  finishing  his  sermon.  The  next 
day  the  grand  council  struck  a  blow  at  once  against 
Rome  and  the  Reformation  !  They  banished  from  the 
city  the  two  leading  controversialists,  Meyer  and  Heim. 
It  was  remarked  of  the  Bernese,  "  They  are  neither 
clear  nor  muddy,"t — taking  in  a  double  sense  the 
name  of  Luther,  which  in  old  German  signified  clear.\ 
But  it  was  in  vain  to  attempt  to  smother  the  Refor- 

*  Langsamer  gereiniget,  verzweifelter  stirbt,  barter  ver 
dammet.  (Kirchofer  Reform,  v.  Bern.  p.  4a) 

t  Dass  sie  weder  I>uther  noch  trub  seyen.     (Ibid.  p.  50.) 

j  Romish  writers,  and  particularly  M.  de  Haller,  have  men- 
tioned, following  Salat  and  Tschudi,  enemies  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, a  pretended  letter  of  Zwingle,  addressed,  at  this  junc- 
ture, to  Kolb,  at  Berne.  It  is  as  follows  :  "  Health  and  bless- 
ing from  God  our  Saviour.  Dear  Francis,  move  gently  in  the 
matter.  At  first,  only  throw  one  sour  pear  to  the  bear,  among 
a  great  many  sweet  ones  ;  afterward  two,  then  three ;  and  as 
soon  as  ho  begins  to  eat  them,  throw  more  and  more — sweet 
and  bitter,  all  together.  Empty  the  sack  entirely .  Soft,  hard, 
sweet,  bitter,  he  will  eat  them  all,  and  will  no  longer  allow 
either  that  they  be  taken,  or  bo  driven  away.  Zurich,  Mon- 
day before  St.  George,  1525.— 

"Your  servant  in  Christ,  ULMCH  ZWINGLE." 

We  can  oppose  convincing  arguments  against  the  authen- 
ticity of  this  letter.  First :  1525,  Kolb,  was  pastor  at  Wert- 
keimer.  He  did  not  come  to  Berne  until  1527 — (See  Zw.  Epp. 
526.)  M.  de  Haller  substitutes,  indeed,  but  quite  arbitra- 
rily, 1527  for  1525.  This  correction,  doubtless,  had  its  object ; 
tout,  unfortunately,  in  making  it,  M.  de  Haller  puts  himself  in 
direct  contradiction  of  Salut  and  Tschudi,  who.  though  they 
do  not  agree  as  to  the  day  on  which  this  letter  was  mentioned 
in  the  diet,  agree  as  to  the  year,  which,  with  both  is  clearly 
1525.  Secondly  :  There  is  no  agreement  as  to  the  way  in 
which  the  letter  itself  got  abroad.  According  to  one  account, 
it  was  intercepted  ;  another  version  tells  us  that  Kolb's  parish- 
ioners communicated  it  to  an  inhabitant  of  the  small  cantons, 
who  happened  to  be  at  Berne.  Thirdly  :  The  original  is  in 
German.  Now  Zwingle  wrote  always  in  Latin  to  his  friends 
who  could  understand  that  language  :  moreover,  he  used  to 
salute  them  as  brollier,  and  not  as  servant.  Fourthly  :  In  read 
ing  Zwingle's  correspondence,  it  is  impossible  not  to  perceive 
that  his  style  is  quite  different  from  that  of  the  pretended  let- 
ter. Zwingle  never  would  have  written  a  letter  to  say  so 
little.  His  letters,  in  general,  are  long  and  lull  of  news.  To 
call  the  little  jeu  d'e«prit  picked  up  by  Salat  a  /«««-,  is  but 


mation  at  Berne.  It  made  progress  on  all  sides.  The 
nuns  of  the  convent  de  Tile  had  not  forgotten  Mailer's 
visit.  Clara  May,  and  many  of  her  friends,  pressed  in 
their  consciences  to  know  what  to  do,  wrote  to  the 
learned  Henry  Bullmger.  In  answer  he  said,  "  Saint 
Paul  enjoinsyoung  women  not  to  take  upon  them  vows, 
but  to  marry,  instead  of  living  in  idleness,  under  a  false 
show  of  piety.  (1  Tim.  v.  13,  14.)  Follow  Jesus  in 
humility,  charity,  patience,  purity  and  kindness."* 
Clara,  looking  to  heaven  for  guidance,  resolved  to  act 
on  the  advice,  and  renounce  a  manner  of  life  at  vari- 
ance with  the  word  of  God — of  man's  invention — and 
beset  with  snares.  Her  grandfather,  Bartholomew, 
who  had  served  for  fifty  years  in  the  field  and  the  coun- 
cil hall,  heard  with  joy  of  the  resolution  she  had  formed. 
Clara  quitted  the  covent. 

The  provost,  Nicholas  Watteville,  connected  by 
strong  ties  of  interest  to  the  Roman  hierarchy,  and 
who  was  to  have  been  nominated  to  the  first  vacant 
bishopric  in  Switzerland,  also  gave  up  his  titles,  reve- 
nues, and  expectations,  that  he  might  keep  a  clear 
conscience  ;  and,  breaking  through  all  the  entangle- 
ments in  which  the  popes  had  sought  to  bind  him,  he 
too  entered  into  that  state  which  had  been,  from  the 
beginning,  instituted  by  God.  Nicholas  Watteville 
took  to  wife  Clara  May  ;  and  his  sister,  Margaret,  the 
nun  of  KonigsfeUi,  was,  about  the  same  time,  united 
to  Lucius  Tscharner,  of  Coira.f 

Everything  gave  intimation  of  the  victory  which 
the  Reformation  would  soon  obtain  at  Berne.  A  city 
not  less  important,  and  which  then  ranked  as  the  Ath- 
ens of  Switzerland — Basle,  was  also  beginning  to  take 
part  in  memorable  struggle  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

Each  of  the  cities  of  the  confederation  had  its  own 
pecular  character.  Berne  was  distinguished  as  the 
place  of  residence  of  the  chief  families  ;  and  the  ques- 
tion was  one  that  seemed  likely  to  be  decided  by  the 
part  taken  by  certain  of  the  leading  nobles.  At  Zu- 
rich, the  ministers  of  the  Word,  such  men  as  Zwin- 
gle, Leo  Juda,  Myconius,  and  Schmidt,  exercised  a 
commanding  influence  over  a  powerful  middle  class 
of  society.  Lucerne  was  the  city  of  arms — a  centre 
of  military  organization.  Basle  was  the  seat  of  learn- 
ing, and  its  accompainment — printing-presses.  Eras- 
mus, the  acknowledged  head  of  the  republic  of  letters 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  had  there  fixed  his  residence, 
and  preferring  the  liberty  it  afforded  him  to  the  flatter- 
ng  invitations  of  popes  and  kings,  he  had  become  a 
centre  of  attraction  to  a  concourse  of  men  of  learning. 

However,  a  man  inferior  to  Erasmus  in  natural  gen- 
ius, but  humble,  gentle,  and  pious,  was,  ere  long,  to 
exercise,  in  that  very  city,  an  influence  more  power- 
ful than  that  possessed  by  this  prince  of  scholars.  Chris- 
topher von  Utenheim,  Bishop  of  Basle,  who  agreed  in 
judgment  with  Ermasus,  sought  to  surround  himself 
with  men  disposed  to  co-operate  in  a  sort  of  half-way- 
Reformation.  With  this  view  he  had  called  to  his 
aid  Capito  and  CEcolampadius.  The  latter  had  a 
something  savouring  of  monkery  in  his  habit  of  mind, 
and  this  often  clashed  with  the  views  of  the  philospher. 
CEcolampadius,  however,  on  his  part,  soon  became  en- 
thusiastically attached  to  Erasmus  ;  and  it  is  probable 

trifling.  Fifthly  :  Salat  deserves  but  little  confidence  as  an 
historian  ;  and  Tschudi  appears  to  have  copied  him,  with 
a  few  variations.  Possibly  a  man  of  the  small  cantons  may 
have  had  communication  from  some  inhabitant  of  Berne,  of 
the  latter  from  Zwingle  to  Haller,  which  we  have  before 
mentioned,  (see  vol.  ii.,)  wherein  Zwingle  employs, -with  a 
good  deal  of  dignity,  the  comparison  of  the  bears,  which  is 
found  in  all  author's  of  that  age.  This  may  have  given  the 
idea  to  some  wit  to  invent  this  letter  which  has  been  sup- 
posed to  have  passed  from  Zwingle  to  Kolb. 
*  Euerem  Herrn  Jesu  nachfolget  in  Demuth.  (Kirchh.  Ref. 

'}  Zw.'  Epp.  annotatio,  p.  451.    It  is  from  this  union  that  the 
Tcharners  of  Berne,  derive  their  descent. 


(ECOLAMPADIUS— FLIGHT  FROM  THE  CONVENT. 


305 


he  would  have  lost  all  independence  of  mind  in  this 
intimacy,  if  Providence  had  not  separated  him  from 
his  idol.  He  returned  in  1517,  to  his  native  city, 
Weinsberg.  Here  he  was  disgusted  with  the  disorders 
and  the  profanity  which  prevailed  among  the  priests ; 
and  he  has  left  a  noble  record  of  the  serious  spirit 
which,  from  that  time  actuated  him  in  his  work  entit- 
led "  The  Humours  of  Easter,"  which  appears  to  have 
been  written  about  this  period.* 

Called  to  Augsburg,  towards  the  end  of  1518,  to  fill 
the  post  of  preacher  in  its  catherdal,  he  found  that  city 
still  under  the  effects  of  the  memorable  discussion 
which  had  been  held  there,  in  the  previous  May,  be- 
tween Luther  and  the  pope's  legate.  It  was  necessary 
that  he  should  choose  his  side,  and  GEcolampadius 
did  not  hesitate  to  declare  himself  on  the  side  of  the 
Reformer.  Such  candor  on  his  part  soon  drew  down 
upon  him  much  opposition,  and  being  convinced  that 
his  natural  timidity,  and  the  feebleness  of  his  voice, 
rendered  it  imposible  for  him  to  succeed  in  public,  he 
looked  around  him  for  a  place  of  retreat,  and  his 
thoughts  rested  on  a  convent  of  monks  of  Saint  Brid- 
get, near  Augsburg,  renowned  for  the  piety,  as  well  as 
for  the  profound  and  liberal  studies,  of  its  monks. 
Feeling  the  need  of  repose,  of  leisure,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  of  quiet  occupation  and  prayer,  he  addressed 
himself  to  this  community,  and  inqiured,  "  Can  I  live 
in  your  convent  according  to  the  word  of  God  ?"  The 
answer  being  in  the  affirmative,  QEcolampadius  enter- 
ed its  gates  on  the  23d  April,  1520,  having  expressly 
stipulated  that  he  should  be  free,  if  ever  the  ministry 
of  the  word  of  God  should  require  his  service  else- 
where. 

It  was  well  that  the  Reformer  of  Basle  should,  like 
Luther,  become  acquainted  with  that  monastic  life, 
which  presented  the  fullest  exhibition  of  the  working 
of  Roman  Catholicism.  But  rest,  was  what  he  could 
not  find  there  ;  his  friends  blamed  the  step  ;  and  he 
himself  declared,  frankly,  that  Luther  was  nearer  to 
the  truth  than  his  adversaries.  No  wonder,  therefore, 
that  Eck  and  other  Romish  doctors  pursued  him 
with  menaces  even  in  this  his  quiet  retreat. 

At  the  time  we  are  recording,  CEcolampadius  was 
neither  one  of  the  reformed,  nor  yet  a  blind  follower 
of  Rome  ;  what  he  most  desired,  was  a  sort  of  purified 
Catholicism,  which  is  nowhere  to  be  found  in  history 
— but  the  idea  of  which  has,  to  many,  served  as  a  bridge 
of  passage  to  better  things.  He  set  himself  to  correct, 
by  reference  to  the  word  of  God,  the  statutes  of  his 
order.  "  I  conjure  you,"  said  he,  to  the  confraternity, 
"  not  to  think  more  highly  of  your  statutes,  than  of  the 
ordinances  and  commandments  of  the  Lord."  "  We 
have  no  wish,"  replied  his  brethren,  "  for  other  rules 
than  those  of  the  Saviour.  Take  our  books,  and  mark, 
as  in  the  presence  of  Christ  himself,  whatever  you  find 
therein  contrary  to  his  word.  CEcolampadius  began 
the  task  imposed ;  but  he  was  almost  wearied  by  it. 
"O  Almighty  God  !"  he  exclaimed,  "what  abomina- 
tions has  not  Rome  sanctioned  in  these  statutes." 

Hardly  had  he  pointed  out  some  of  them,  when  the  anger 
of  the  fraternity  was  aroused:  "  Thou  heretic,  thou  apos- 
tate," was  their  cry,  "  thou  deservest  to  be  thrown  into  a 
lonesome  dungeon  for  the  rest  of  thy  days."  They 
would  not  allow  him  to  come  to  prayers.  Meanwhile, 
outside  the  walls,  still  greater  danger  awaited  him. — 
Eck,  and  his  party  had  not  relinquished  their  schemes. 
"In  three  days,"  it  was  told  him,  "  they  will  be  here 
to  arrest  you."  "  Do  you  intend,"  asked  he,  "  to  deli- 
ver me  up  to  assassins  1"  The  monks  were  silent  and 
irresolute  .  .  . ;  neither  willing  to  save  him,  nor  yet 
to  give  him  up.  At  this  juncture,  some  friends  of 
CEcolampadius  approached  the  convent,  bringing  with 
•  Herzog.  Studien  und  Kritiken,  1840.  p.  334. 


them  horses  to  conduct  him  to  a  place  of  safety.  At 
the  news,  the  monks  decided  to  allow  the  departure  of 
one  who  had  brought  the  seeds  of  trouble  into  their 
convent.  "  Farewell"  said  he.  Behold  him  at  liberty  ! 

He  had  remained  nearly  two  years  in  the  convent 
of  Saint  Bridget. 

CEcolampadius  was  saved — he  began  to  breathe. 
"  I  have  sacrificed  the  monk,"  said  he,  writing  to  a 
friend,  "and  have  regained  the  Christians."  But  his 
flight  from  the  convent  and  his  heretical  writings,  were 
everywhere  proclaimed.  People  on  all  sides  drew 
back  at  his  approach.  He  knew  not  which  way  to 
turn,  when  Sickingen  offered  him  an  asylum.  This 
was  in  the  spring  of  the  year  1522.  He  accepted  it. 

His  rnind,  oppressed  during  his  confinement  within 
the  monastery,  recovered  its  elasticity  among  the  noble 
warriors  of  Ebernburg.  "  Christ  is  our  liberty  !"  burst 
from  his  lips,  "  and  that  which  men  consider  as  their 
greatest  misfortune — death  itself — is  for  us  a  real  gain." 
He  directly  commenced  reading  to  the  people  the  Gos- 
pels and  Epistles  in  German.  "  No  sooner  will  these 
trumpets  sound  abroad,"  said  he,  "  than  the  walls  of 
Jericho  will  crumble  to  the  ground." 

Thus  the  most  humble  man  of  his  time  was  prepar- 
ng,  in  a  fortress  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  in  the  midst 
of  unpolished  warriors,  for  that  change  of  worship 
which  Christianity  was  shortly  to  undergo.  Never- 
theless, Ebernburg  was  not  a  field  large  enough  for  his 
plans ;  besido,  he  felt  the  need  of  other  society  than 
such  as  he  waw  in  the  midst  of.  Cratander,  the  book- 
seller, invited  him  to  take  up  his  abode  at  Basle  ;  Sick- 
ingen offered  no  impediment;  and  CEcolampadius,  glad 
at  the  thought  of  seeing  his  old  friends,  arrived  there 
on  the  16th  of  November,  1522.  After  having  lived 
there  some  time,  simply  as  a  man  of  learning,  without 
any  public  vocation,  he  was  nominated  vicar  of  the 
church  of  St.  Martin,  and  his  acceptance  of  this  humble 
engagement*  perhaps  decided  the  Reformation  atBasle : 
Whenever  CEcolampadius  was  to  preach,  a  great  crowd 
filled  the  church. t  At  the  same  time,  the  public  lec- 
tures given  by  him,  and  by  Pellican,  were  crowned 
with  so  much  success,  that  Erasmus  himself  felt  con- 
strained to  exclaim,  "  CEcolampadius  triumphs  !"t 

"  In  fact,  this  gentle  and  firm  man,  *  says  Zwingle, 

diffused  all  around  him,  the  sweet  savour  of  Christ ; 
and  all  who  assembled  about  him  grew  in  the  truth."§ 
Often  a  report  prevailed  that  he  was  on  the  point  of 
being  obliged  to  quit  Basle,  and  begin  again  his  haz- 
ardous flights.  On  these  occasions  his  friends — and 
above  all  Zwingle — would  be  in  consternation ;  but  then 
came  tidings  of  fresh  advantages  gained  by  CEcolam- 
padius, dissipating  their  fears,  and  raising  their  hopes. 
The  renown  of  his  labours  spread  even  to  Wittembcrg, 
and  rejoiced  Luther,  who  would  often  talk  with  Melanc- 
thon  concerning  him.  But  the  Saxon  Reformer  was 
not  without  anxiety  on  his  account.  Erasmus  was  at 
Bas]e — and  Erasmus  was  the  friend  of  CEcolampadius 
.  .  .  Luther  thought  it  his  duty  to  put  one  whom  he 
loved  on  his  guard.  "  I  fear  much,"  wrote  he,  "  that, 
like  Moses,  Erasmus  will  die  in  the  country  of  Moab, 
and  never  lead  us  into  the  land  of  promise."|| 

Erasmus  had  retired  to  Basle,  as  to  a  quiet  city, 
situated  in  the  centre  of  the  intellectual  activity  of  the 
age — from  whence,  by  means  of  the  printing  press  of 
Frobenius,  he  could  act  upon  France,  Germany,  Swit. 

*  Meis  sumptibus  non  sine  contemptu  et  invidia.  (CEcol« 
ad  Pirckh.  de  Eucharistia.) 

t  Dass  er  kein  Predigt  thate,  er  hatte  ein  maehtig  Volk  da- 
rinn — says  Peter  Ryf,  his  contemporary.  (Wirtz.  v.  350.) 

\  CEcolampadius  apudnos  triumphal.  Eras,  ad  Zwing.  (Zw. 
Epp.  p.  312.) 

§  Illi  magis  ac  magis  in  omni  bono  augescunt.  (Eras,  ad 
Zwing.  Zw.  Epp.  p.  312.) 

||  Et  in  terram  promissionis  ducere  non  potest.  (L.  Epp.  p. 
363.) 


306  HUTTEN  AND  ERASMUS— DEATH  OF  HUTTEN— VACILLATION  AND  DECISION 


zerland,  Italy,  and  England.  But  he  liked  not  to  be 
interfered  with  ;  and  if  the  neighbourhood  of  CEcolam- 
padius  was  not  entirely  agreeable  to  him,  another  man 
there  was  whose  presence  inspired  him  with  still  more 
apprehension.  Ulrich  Hutten  had  followed  CEcolam- 
padius  to  Basle.  For  some  time  he  had  been  attacking 
the  Pope,  as  one  knight  tilts  with  another.  "  The  axe," 
said  he,  "  is  already  laid  at  the  root  of  the  tree.  Faint 
not,  my  countrymen,  in  the  heat  of  the  battle  ;  the  lot 
is  cast ;  the  charge  is  begun  .  .  .  Hurrah  for  liberty !" 
He  laid  aside  the  Latin,  and  now  wrote  only  in  Ger- 
man ;  for  his  object  was  to  get  at  the  hearts  of  the 
people. 

His  views  were  grand  and  generous.  According 
to  his  plan,  there  was  to  be  a  yearly  meeting  of  bishops, 
to  regulate  the  interests  of  the  church.  Christian  in- 
stitutions, and,  above  all,  a  Christian  spirit,  was  to  go 
forth  from  Germany,  as  formerly  from  Judea,  and  spread 
through  the  whole  world.  Charles  V.  was  the  young 
hero  destined  to  realize  this  golden  age  ;  but  Hutten's 
hopes  having  been  blasted  in  that  quarter,  he  turned 
toward  Sickingen,  and  sought  from  knighthood  that 
which  the  Imperial  authority  refused  him. 

Sickingen,  as  a  leading  chieftain,  had  acted  a  dis- 
tinguished part  in  Germany ;  but  soon  after  the  nobles 
had  besieged  him  in  the  castle  of  Landstein,  and  the 
ancient  walls  of  that  fortress  had  yielded  to  the  strange 
power  of  cannon  and  musketry— then  only  recently 
invented.  The  taking  of  Landstein  had  been  the  final 
defeat  of  the  power  of  the  knights — the  triumph  of  the 
art  of  modern  warfare  over  that  of  the  middle  ages. 
Thus,  the  last  exploits  of  the  knights  had  been  on  the 
side  of  the  Reformation,  while  the  earliest  use  of  the 
newly-invented  engines  was  against  it.  The  steel-clad 
warriors,  whose  bodies  fell  beneath  the  unlooked-for 
storm  of  balls,  made  way  for  other  soldiery.  Other 
conflicts  were  opening.  A  spiritual  knighthood  was 
taking  the  place  of  the  Du  Guesclins  and  Bayards ;  and 
those  battered  ramparts,  broken  walls,  and  expiring 
warriors,  told,  more  plainly  than  Luther  had  been  able 
to  do,  that  it  was  not  by  such  allies  or  such  weapons 
that  the  Gospel  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  was  destined 
to  prevail. 

The  hopes  of  Hutten  had  died  with  the  fall  of  Land- 
stein, and  the  ruin  of  the  power  of  the  knights.  As 
he  stood  by  the  corpse  of  his  friend,  Sickingen,  he 
bade  adieu  to  his  dream  of  brighter  days  to  come,  and 
losing  all  confidence  in  men,  he  sought  only  for  retire- 
ment and  repose.  In  quest  of  these,  he  visited  Eras- 
mus in  Switzerland.  An  early  friendship  had  subsist- 
ed between  them ;  but  the  rough  and  overbearing  knight 
regardless  of  the  opinions  of  others,  quick  to  grasp  the 
sword,  and  dealing  his  blows  on  all  sides,  wherever 
he  came,  could  scarcely  be  expected  to « walk  together ' 
with  the  fastidious  and  timid  Erasmus,  with  all  his  re- 
finement, politeness,  love  of  praise,  his  readiness  to  sa- 
crifice all  for  the  sake  of  it,  and  his  fear,  above  all,  of 
controversy. 

On  his  arrival  at  Basle,  Huten,  poor,  suffering  in 
bodily  health,  and  a  fugitive,  immediately  sought  out 
his  old  friend.  But  Erasmus  shrunk  from  the  thought 
of  receiving  at  his  table  a  man  who  was  placed  under 
ban  by  the  Pope  and  the  Emperor,  a  man  who,*  in  his 
conversation,  would  spare  no  one,  and  beside  borrow- 
ing money  of  him,  would  no  doubt  be  followed  by  others 
of  the  "  Gospel  party,"  whom  Erasmus  dreaded  more 
and  more.  He  declined  to  see  him,  and  the  magis- 
trates of  Basle  desired  Hutten  to  leave  the  city. 
Wounded  to  the  quick,  and  irritated  by  the  timid  pru- 

*  Ille  egens  et  omnibus  rebus  dcstitutus  quaerebat  nidum 
aliquem  ubi  moveretur.  Erat  mihi  gloriosus  ille  miles  cum 
•ua  scabie  in  aedes  recipiendus.  simulque  recipiendus,  ille  cho- 
rustitulo  Evangelicorum,  writes  Erasmus  to  Melancthon  in  a 
letter  in  which  he  seeks  to  excuse  himself.  (Er.  Epp.  p,  949.) 


dence  of  his  friend,  Hutten  repaired  to  Mulhausen,  and 
there  circulated  a  violent  diatribe  against  Erasmus, — 
to  which  the  latter  put  forth  a  reply  replete  with  talent. 
The  knight  had,  as  it  were,  with  both  hands,  seized  his 
sword,  and  felled  his  adversary  to  the  earth ;  the  phi- 
losopher, recovering  his  feet,  had  replied  to  the  strokes 
of  his  adversary  by  peckings  with  his  beak.* 

Hutten  was  again  compelled  to  fight.  He  reached 
Zurich,  and  there  found  a  kind  reception  at  the  hospi- 
table hearth  of  Zwingle.  Intrigues  again  obliged  him 
to  quit  that  city  ;  and,  after  passing  some  time  at  the 
baths  of  Pfeffers,  he  repaired,  provided  with  a  letter 
from  the  Swiss  Reformer,  to  the  pastor,  John  Schnapp, 
who  resided  in  the  little  island  of  Uffnan,  on  the  lake 
of  Zurich.  That  humble  minister  of  God's  word  re- 
ceived the  sick  and  homeless  knight  with  the  tender- 
est  charity.  And  in  that  tranquil  and  unknown  seclu- 
sion, Ulric  Hutten,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of 
his  age,  expired  about  the  end  of  August,  after  an  agi- 
tated life,  in  the  course  of  which  he  had  been  expelled 
by  one  party,  persecuted  by  another,  and  deserted  by 
nearly  all ;  having  all  his  life  contended  against  super- 
stition, without,  as  it  would  seem,  ever  arriving  at  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth.  The  poor  minister,who  had  gain- 
ed some  experience  in  the  healing  art,  had  bestowed  up- 
on him  the  utmost  attention.  He  left  behind  him  nei- 
ther money,  nor  furniture,  nor  books,  nothing  save  his 
pen.f  So  broken  was  the  steel-clad  arm  that  he  had 
dared  to  put  forward  to  support  the  ark  of  God. 

But  there  was  one  man  in  Germany  more  formida- 
ble in  the  eyes  of  Erasmus  than  the  ill-fated  knight,  and 
that  man  was  Luther.  The  time  had  come  when  the 
two  great  combatants  of  the  age  were  to  measure  their 
strength  in  the  lists.  They  were  the  leaders  of  two 
very  different  reformations.  Whilst  Luther  was  bent 
on  a  complete  reformation,  Erasmus,  as  the  advocate  of 
a  middle  course,  was  seeking  certain  concessions  from 
the  hierarchy,  that  might  have  the  effect  of  conciliating 
the  opposing  parties.  Luther  was  disgusted  with  the 
vacillation  and  inconsistency  of  Erasmus.  "  You  arc 
trying  to  walk  on  eggs  without  breaking  them,"  said 
he.t 

At  the  same  time,  he  met  those  vacillations  of  Eras- 
mus, with  the  most  entire  and  unfaltering  decision. 
"  We  Christains,"  said  he,  "  ought  to  be  well  persuad- 
ed of  what  we  teach,  and  to  be  able  to  say  yes  and  no. 
To  object  to  our  affirming  with  full  conviction  what  we 
believe,  is  to  strip  us  of  our  faith  itself.  The  Holy 
Spirit  is  no  spirit  of  doubt. $  And  he  has  written  in 
our  hearts  a  firm  and  peaceful  assurance,  which  makes 
us  as  sure  of  the  object  of  faith  as  we  are  of  our  ex- 
istence." 

These  words  suffice  to  show  on  which  side  strength 
was  to  be  found.  To  effect  a  change  in  religion,  there 
is  need  of  firm  and  living  faith.  A  salutary  levolution 
in  the  Church  is  never  to  be  derived  from  philosophic 
views  and  thoughts  of  man.  To  restore  fertility  to 
the  earth  after  a  long  drought,  the  lightning  must  strike 
the  cloud,  and  the  windows  of  heaven  must  be  opened. 
Critical  acuteness,  philosophy,  and  even  history,  may 
prepare  the  ground  for  a  true  faith,  but  never  can  they 
fill  its  place.  Vainly  would  you  cleanse  the  aqueduct 
or  build  up  your  embankments,  so  long  as  the  rain 
cometh  not  down  from  heaven.  The  learning  of  man 
without  faith  is  but  as  the  dry  channel. 

Much  and  essentially  as  Luther  and  Erasmus  differ- 
ed one  from  the  other,  a  hope  was  long  cherished  by 
Luther's  friends,  and  even  by  himself,  that  both  would 
*  Expostulatio  Hutteni.— Erasmi  spongia. 
f  Libros  nullos  habuit,  supellectilem  nullam,  praeter  cala- 
mum.  (2w  Epp.  p.  313.) 
\  Auf  Ryern  genen  und  keines  zutreten.    (L.  Opp.  xix.  p« 

§  Der  heilige  Oeist  1st  keia  Scepticus.    (Ibid.  p.  8.) 


ERASMUS'S  QUATRAIN— LUTHER'S  LETTER  TO  ERASMUS. 


307 


one  day  be  united  in  resistance  of  Rome.  Expressions 
dropt,  in  his  caustic  humour,  were  commonly  reported, 
which  showed  the  philosopher  dissenting,  in  his  opinion, 
from  the  most  devoted  adherents  of  Catholicism.  For 
instance,  it  is  related,  that,  when  in  England,  he  was 
one  day  in  earnest  conversation  with  Thomas  More, 
on  the  subject  of  transubstantiation.  "  Only  believe," 
said  More,  "  that  you  receive  the  body  of  Christ,  and 
you  really  have  it."  Erasmus  was  silent.  Shortly  af- 
ter this,  when  Erasmus  was  leaving  England,  More 
lent  him  a  horse  to  convey  him  to  the  port  where  he 
was  to  embark  ;  but  Erasmus  took  it  abroad  with  him. 
When  More  heard  of  it,  he  reproached  him  with  much 
warmth,  but  the  only  answer  Erasmus  gave  him,  was 
in  the  following  quatrain  : — * 

"  Only  believe  them  sharest  Christ's  feast,  say  you, 

And  never  doubt  the  fact  is  therefore  true  : 

So  write  I  of  thy  horse  ; — if  thou  art  able 

But  to  believe  it,  he  is  in  thy  stable."f 

Erasmus's  sentiments  having  got  wind,  not  only  in 
Germany  and  England,  but  in  other  countries,  it  was 
said  at  Paris,  that  "  Luther  wanted  to  force  open  the 
door,  of  which  Erasmus  had  already  picked  the  lock."J 

The  position  taken  by  Erasmus  was  a  difficult  one. 
"  I  will  not  be  unfaithful  to  the  cause  of  Christ,'5  wrote 
he  to  Zwingle,  "at  least  so  far  as  the  times  will  al- 
low."^ Jus:  in  proportion  as  he  saw  Rome  rising  up 
against  the  favourers  of  the  Reformation,  he  prudently 
drew  back  from  them.  All  parties  looked  to  him. 
Pope,  emperor,  kings,  nobles,  men  of  learning,  and 
even  his  most  intimate  friends,  entreated  him  to  take 
up  his  pen  against  ;he  Reformer.  ||  You  cannot  pos- 
»ibly  undertake  a  work  more  acceptable  to  God,  and 
more  worthy  of  your  genius,"  wrote  the  Pope.^T 

Erasmus  for  a  long  time  held  out  against  these  so- 
licitations. He  could  not  conceal  himself  that  the 
cause  of  the  Reformation  was  that  of  religion  as  well 
as  of  learning.  Moreover,  Luther  was  an  adversary 
he  dreaded  to  find  himself  opposed  to.  "  It  is  an  easy 
thing  for  you  to  say,  Write  against  Luther,"  said  he 
to  a  Romish  divine,"  but  the  matter  is  full  of  hazard."** 
He  knew  not  which  way  to  move. 

This  hesitation  on  the  part  of  Erasmus  drew  upon 
him  the  most  violent  of  both  parties.  Luther  himself 
scarcely  knew  how  to  make  his  respect  for  Erasmus's 
learning  consist  with  the  indignation  his  timid  policy 
awakened  in  him.  He  resolved  to  break  through  the 
painful  restraint  he  had  hitherto  imposed  on  himself, 
and  wrote  to  him,  in  April,  1524,  a  letter,  which  he 
commissioned  Camerarius  to  deliver  to  him. 

"  You  have  not  yet  received  from  the  Lord  the  cou- 
rage requisite  for  marching  side  by  side  with  us  against 
the  Papists.  We  bear  with  your  weakness.  If  learn- 
ing prospers,  and  if,  by  its  means,  the  treasury  of  Scrip- 
ture is  unlocked  to  all  comers,  it  is  a  gift  which  God 
has  given  us  by  you — a  noble  gift,  for  which  our  praise 
ascends  to  heaven.  But  do  not  desert  the  post  as- 
signed you,  to  take  up  your  quarters  in  our  camp.  No 
doubt  your  eloquence  and  genius  might  be  useful  to 

*  There  is  surely  profanity  as  well  as  levity  in  this.  May 
the  reader  be  preserved  from  any  sympathy  with  such  a  way 
of  dealing  with  a  belief  which,  right  or  wrong,  is  reverential. 
— TR. 

f  "  Quod  mihi  dixisti  nuper  de  corpore  Christ!  : 

Crede  quod  habes  et  habes  ; 
Hoc  tibi  rescribo  tantum  de  tuo  caballo  : 
Crede  quod  habes  et  habes/' 

(Paravicini,  Singularia,  p.  71.) 

\  Histoire  Cathol.  denotre  temps,  par  S.  Fontaine  de  1'ordro 
de  St.  Francois,  Paris,  1562. 

{j  Quantum  hoc  seculum  patitur.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  221.) 
[I  A  Pontiface,  a  Csesare,  a  regibus  et  principus,  a  doctissi- 
mis  etiam  et  carissimis  amicis  hue  provocor.     (Erasm.  Zw. 
Epp-  p  303.) 

IT  Nulla  te  et  ingenio,  eruditione,  eloquentiaque  tua  dignior 
tesse  potest.    (Adrianus  Papa,  Epp.  Er.  p.  1202.) 
*»  Res  est  periculi  plena,   (Er.  Epp.  p.  768.) 


us;  but,  since  your  courage  fails  you,  remain  where 
you  are.  If  I  could  have  my  will,  those  who  are  act- 
ing with  me  should  leave  your  old  age  in  peace,  to 
fall  asleep  in  the  Lord.  The  greatness  of  our  cause 
has  long  ago  surpassed  your  strength.  But  then,  dear 
Erasmus,  cease,  I  pray  you,  to  scatter,  with  open  hands, 
the  biting  satire  you  arc  so  skilled  to  clothe  in  flowery 
rhetoric,for  the  slightest  stroke  of  your  pen  inflicts  more 
pain  than  the  being  ground  to  powder  by  all  the  Papists 
put  together.  Be  satisfied  to  be  a  spectator  of  our  tra- 
gedy :*  only  abstain  from  writing  against  me,  and  I  will 
not  attack  you." 

Here  we  see  Luther,  whose  spirit  breathed  the  breath 
of  conflict,  asking  for  peace  and  amity  !  Erasmus, 
the  man  of  peace,  broke  it. 

This  communication  of  the  Reformer  was  received 
by  Erasmus  as  the  keenest  of  insults,  and  if  he  had  not 
previously  resolved  on  publishing  against  Luther,  it  is 
probable  that  resolution  was  then  taken.  "  Perhaps," 
was  his  reply,  "  perhaps  Erasmus  will  better  serve  the 
Gospel  by  writing  against  you,  than  certain  senseless 
writers  on  yourt  own  side,  whose  doctrines  do  not  allow 
me  to  be  any  longer  a  mere  spectator  of  the  tragedy." 

But  other  motives  were  not  wanting.  Henry  VIII., 
and  the  leading  nobility  of  England,  pressed  him  to 
declare  himself  openly  against  the  Reformation,  and 
Erasmus,  in  a  moment  of  more  than  usual  boldness, 
gave  a  promise  to  that  effect.  His  questionable  posi- 
tion had,  besides,  become  a  source  of  continual  trou- 
ble to  him  ;  he  loved  ease,  and  the  necessity  he  was 
continually  brought  under  of  vindicating  his  conduct, 
was  a  constant  disturbance.  He  loved  the  praise  of 
men,  and  he  heard  himself  charged  with  fearing  Lu- 
ther, and  being  unable  to  answer  him — he  clung  to 
the  uppermost  seat — and  the  plain  monk  of  Wittem- 
berg  had  dethroned  the  powerful  Erasmus  from  his 
pre-eminence.  It  was  his  aim,  by  a  bold  step,  to  re- 
gain the  place  he  had  lost.  The  established  Christian- 
ty  of  his  age,  with  one  voice,  invited  him  to  the  attempt. 
A  man  of  large  capacity,  and  of  the  highest  reputation 
n  thai  age,  was  wanted  to  oppose  to  the  Reformation. 
Erasmus  gave  himself  to  the  work. 

But  with  what  weapons  will  he  arm  for  the  encoun- 
ter ]  Will  he  call  forth  the  former  thunders  of  the  Va- 
tican ?  Will  he  undertake  the  vindication  of  the 
corruptions  which  are  the  disgrace  of  the  Papacy  ? 
Erasmus  could  not  act  such  a  part.  The  grand  move- 
ment which  then  swelled  all  hearts,  after  the  death- 
like stupor  of  so  many  centuries,  filled  him  with  joy, 
and  he  would  have  shrunk  from  shackling  its  progress- 
Unable  to  be  the  champion  of  Roman  Catholicism 
in  that  which  it  has  added  to  Christianity,  he  under- 
took the  defence  of  it  in  the  particulars  wherein  it 
lias  taken  away  from  it.  Erasmus  chose,  for  the 
ground  of  his  attack  upon  Luther,  that  point  wherein 
Catholicism  makes  common  cause  with  Rationalism, 
the  doctrine  of  Free  Will,  or  the  power  of  man  by 
nature.  Accordingly,  although  undertaking  thus  to 
defend  the  Church,  Erasmus  was  also  gratifying  the 
men  of  this  world ;  and,  although  fighting  the  battle 
on  behalf  of  the  Pope,  he  was  also  contending  on  the 
side  of  the  philosophic  party.  It  has  been  said  that 
le  acted  injudiciously  in  thus  restricting  himself  to  an 
'ntricate  and  unprofitable  question,  t  Luther, — the 
Reformers  generally, — and  indeed,  that  age  were  of 
a  different  opinion ;  and  we  agree  with  them.  I  must 

*  Spactator  tantum  sis  tragcedise  nostrae.    (L.  Epp.  ii.  p. 

f  Quid  am  stolid!  scribentes  pro  te.  (Unschuldige  Nach- 
richt,  p.  545.) 

\  "  It  is  humbling  to  mankind,"  says  M.  Nisard— see  Revue 
des  deux  mondes,  lii.  p.  411— "to  contemplate  men  capable 
of  grasping  eternal  truths,  fencing  and  debating  in  such  tri- 
vialities, like  gladiators  fighting  with  flies." 


308 


LAMENTATIONS  OF  ERASMUS— ARGUMENTS  FOR  FREE  WILL. 


acknowledge,  said  Luther,  "that,  in  this  great  con 
troversy,  you  alone  have  taken  the  bull  by  the  horns 
I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart,  for  I  prefer  to  be  occu- 
pied with  that  theme  rather  than  such  secondary  ques- 
tions as  pope,  purgatory,  and  indulgences,  with  which 
the  enemies  of  the  Gospel  have  hitherto  dogged  my 
steps."* 

His  own  experience,  and  the  attentive  study  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  and  of  St.  Augustine,  had  convinced 
Luther  that  the  powers  of  man's  nature  are  so  strongly 
inclined  to  evil,  that,  in  his  own  strenght,  he  can  attain 
no  more  than  an  outward  decency,  of  no  value  or  suffi 
ciency  in  the  sight  of  God.  He  had,  at  the  same 
time,  recognised  that  it  was  God,  who,  by  his  Holy 
Spirit,  bestowing  freely  on  man  the  gift  of  '  faith'  com- 
municated to  him  a  real  righteousness.  This  doctrine 
had  become  the  vital  principle  of  his  religion,  the  pre. 
dominant  tenet  of  his  theology,  and  the  pivot  on  which 
the  entire  Reformation  turned. 

Whilst  Luther  maintained  that  eyerything  good  in 
man  came  down  from  God,  Erasmus  sided  with  those 
who  thought  that  this  good  came  out  from  man  him- 
self. God  or  man — good  or  evil — these  are  no  unim- 
portant themes ;  and  if  there  is  '  triviality,'  it  is  as- 
suredly not  in  such  solemn  questions. 

It  was  in  the  autumn  of  1524,  that  Erasmus  pub- 
lished his  famous  tract,  entitled  "  Diatribe  on  the 
Freedom  of  the  Will,"  and  as  soon  as  it  saw  the  light, 
the  philospher  could  hardly  credit  his  own  boldness. 
With  his  eyes  rivetted  on  the  arena,  he  watched,  with 
trembling,  the  gauntlet  he  had  flung  to  his  adversary. 
"The  die  is  cast,"  he  wrote  to  Henry  Vfll.,  with 
emotion  ;  "  the  book  on  free  will  is  published.  I  have 
done  a  bold  thing,  believe  me.  I  expect  nothing  less 
than  to  be  stoned  for  it.  But  I  take  comfort  from 
your  majesty's  example,  whom  the  rage  of  these  people 
has  not  spared."! 

His  alarm  soon  increased  to  such  a  degree,  that  he 
bitterly  lamented  the  step  he  had  taken  "  Why,"  he 
ejaculated,  "  why  was  I  not  permitted  to  grow  old  in 
the  mount  of  the  Muses  !  Here  am  I,  at  sixty  years 
of  age,  forcibly  thurst  forward  into  the  arena,  and  I 
am  throwing  the  cestus  and  the  net,  instead  of  hand- 
ling the  lyre  !  I  am  aware,"  said  he  to  the  Bishop  of 
Rochester,  "  that  in  writing  upon  free  will,  I  was  go- 
ing out  of  my  sphere ;  you  congratulate  me  on  my 
triumphs.  Ah !  I  do  not  know  over  whom.  The 
faction  (the  Reformation)  gathers  strength  daily.J 
Was  it  then  my  fate,  at  my  time  of  life,  to  pass  from 
my  place  as  a  friend  of  the  Muses,  to  that  of  a  miser- 
able gladiator  1" 

Doubtless  it  was  no  small  matter  for  the  timid  Eras- 
mus to  have  stood  forth  against  Luther  ;  nevertheless, 
he  had  not  spoken  out  with  any  extraordinary  boldness. 
He  seems,  in  his  book,  to  ascribe  but  little  to  man's 
will,  and  to  leave  to  Grace  the  greater  part  of  the 
work ;  but  then  he  chooses  his  arguments  so  as  to 
make  it  seem  as  if  man  did  every  thing,  and  God 
nothing.  Not  daring  openly  to  express  his  opinions, 
he  seems  to  affirm  one  thing,  and  to  prove  another ; 
so  that  one  may  be  allowed  to  suppose  that  he  believ- 
ed what  he  proved,  not  what  he  asserted. 

He  distinguishes  three  several  sentiments  opposed 
to  different  degress  of  Pelagianism  ;  "  Some  think," 
said  he,  "  that  man  can  neither  will,  nor  begin,  still 
less  perform  any  thing  good,  without  the  special  and 
constant  aid  of  Divine  grace  ;  and  this  opinion  seems 
probable  enough.  Others  teach  that  the  will  of  man  has 

*  L.  Opp.  xix.  p.  146. 

t  Jacta  est  alea  .  . .  audax,  mihi  crede,  facinus .  .  .  expecto 
lapidiationem.  (Er.  Epp.  p.  811.) 

t  Quomodo  triumphans  nescio  . .  .  Factio  crescit  in  dies  la- 
tiu*.  (Ibid.  p.  809.) 


no  power  but  for  evil,  and  that  it  is  grace  alone  that 
works  any  good  in  us ;  and,  lastily,  there  are  some 
who  assert  that  there  never  has  been  any  free  will, 
either  in  angels,  or  in  Adam,  or  in  us,  whether  before 
or  after  grace  received  ;  but  that  God  works  in  man 
whether  it  be  good  or  evil,  and  that  everything  that 
happens,  happens  from  an  absolute  necessity,"* 

Erasmus,  whilst  seeming  to  admit  the  first  of  these 
opinions,  uses  arguments  that  are  opposed  to  it,  and 
which  might  be  employed  by  the  most  determined 
Pelagian.  It  is  thus  that,  quoting  the  passages  of 
Scripture,  in  which  God  offers  to  man  the  choice  be- 
tween good  and  evil,  he  adds  :  "  Man  then  must 
needs  have  a  power  to  will  and  to  choose  !  for  it  would 
be  folly  to  say  to  any  one,  Choose  !  were  it  not  in  his 
power  to  do  so  ?" 

Luther  feared  nothing  from  Erasmus  :  "  Truth," 
said  he,  "  is  more  powerful  than  words.  The  victory 
will  remain  with  him  who,  with  stammering  lips,  shall 
teach  the  truth,  and  not  to  him  who  eloquently  puts  for- 
ward a  lie."t  But  when  he  received  Erasmus'  book, 
in  the  month  of  October,  1524,  he  considered  it  to 
be  so  feebly  argued,  that  he  hesitated  whether  to  an- 
swer  it.  "  What !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  all  this  eloquence 
in  so  bad  a  cause !  It  is  as  if  a  man  should  serve  up 
mud  on  gold  and  silver  dishes.t  One  cannot  get  any 
hold  upon  you.  You  are  like  an  eel  that  slips  through 
one's  fingers  ;  or,  like  the  fabled  Proteus,  who  changes 
his  form  when  in  the  very  arms  of  him  who  would 
strangle  him." 

Luther  making  no  reply,  the  monks  and  theologians 
of  the  schools  broke  forth  in  exultation  :  "  Well, 
where  is  your  Luther  now  1  Where  is  the  great  Mac- 
cabeus 1  Let  him  enter  the  lists  !  let  him  come  for- 
ward !  Ah  !  ah  !  he  has  at  last  found  his  match !  He 
has  had  a  lesson  to  keep  in  the  back  ground  !  he 
learnt  to  be  silent."^ 

Luther  saw  that  he  must  answer  Erasmus  ;  but  it 
was  not  till  the  end  of  the  year  1525  that  he  prepared 
to  do  so  ;  and  Melancthon  having  told  Erasmus  that 
Luther  would  write  with  moderation,  the  philosopher 
was  greatly  alarmed.  "  If  I  write  with  moderation," 
said  he,  it  is  my  natural  character ;  but  there  is  in  Lu- 
ther's character  the  indignation  of  the  son  of  Peleus. 
And  how  can  it  be  otherwise  ?  The  vessel  that  braves 
such  a  storm  as  that  which  rages  round  Luther,  needs 
anchor,  ballast,  and  rudder,  to  keep  it  from  bearing 
down  out  of  its  course — If  therefore  he  should  answer 
more  temperately  than  suit  his  character — the  syco- 
phants will  exclaim  that  we  understand  one  another." 
— We  shall  see  that  Erasmus  was  soon  relieved  from 
his  last  fear. 

The  doctrine  of  God's  election,  as  the  sole  cause 
>f  man's  salvation,  had  long  been  dear  to  the  Refor- 
mer : — but  hitherto  he  had  only  considered  its  practical 
'nfluence.  In  his  answer  to  Erasmus  he  investigated 
t  especially  in  a  speculative  point  of  view,  and  labour- 
ed to  establish,  by  such  arguments  as  seemed  to  him 
nost  conclusive,  that  God  works  everything  in  man's 
conversion,  and  that  our  heart  is  so  alienated  from 
the  love  of  God,  that  it  can  only  have  a  sincere  desire 
fter  righteousness  by  the  regenerating  action  of  the 
rloly  Spirit. 

'  To  call  our  will  a  Free  will,"  said  he,  "  is  to  imi- 
tate those  princes  who  accumulate  long  titles,  styling 
.hemselves  sovereigns  of  this  or  that  kingdom,  principa- 
ity,  and  distant  island,(of  Rhodes,  Cyprus,  and  Jerusa- 

*De  libero  arbitrio.  (Erasmi.  Opp.  ix.  p.  1215.  sq.) 

\  Victoria  est  penes  balbutienteni  veritatem,  non  apud  men- 
dacem  eloquentiara.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  200.) 

J  Als  wenn  ciner  in  silbern  oder  guldern  Schusseln  wolte 
mist  und  Unflath  Auftragen.  (L.  Opp.  xix.  p.  4.) 

§  Sehet,  sehet  nun  da  zu  !  wo  ist  nun  Luther.    (Ibid.  p.  o.) 


A  TEST— GOD'S  WORKINGS— JANSENISM. 


309 


lem,)  over  which  they  do  not  exercise  the  least 
authority."  Nevertheless,  Luther  here  makes  an  im- 
portant distinction,  which  shows  that  he  by  no  means 
participated  in  the  third  opinion  which  Erasmus  had 
raised  to  notoriety  by  attributing  it  to  him.  "  Man's 
will,"  said  he,  "  may  indeed  be  said  to  be  free,  not 
indeed  in  relation  to  what  is  above  him, — that  is,  to 
God, — but  in  relation  to  what  is  beneath  him, — that 
is,  to  the  things  of  this  world.  In  any  matter  affect- 
ing my  property,  my  lands,  my  house,  or  my  farm,  I 
find  myself  able  to  act,  do,  and  manage  freely  ;  but  in 
everything  that  has  reference  to  his  salvation,  man  is 
u  captive  ;  he  is  subject  to  the  will  of  God, — or  rather 
to  that  of  the  devil.*  Show  me,"  cries  he,  "  only  one 
among  all  those  who  teach  the  doctrine  of  free  will, 
who  has  been  able  in  himself  to  find  strength  to  en- 
dure a  slight  insult,  a  passionate  assault,  nay,  even  the 
hostile  look  of  his  enemy,  and  that  joyfully, — and  with- 
out so  much  as  asking  whether  he  is  willing  to  give  up 
his  body,  his  life,  his  goods,  his  honour,  and  all  that 
he  has, — I  will  acknowledge  that  you  have  gained 
your  cause."f 

Luther  had  too  much  penetration  not  to  discern  the 
contradictions  into  which  his  adversary  had  fallen. 
He,  therefore,  in  his  answer,  laboured  to  enclose  the 
philosopher  in  the  net  in  which  he  had  entangled  him- 
self. "  If  the  passages  you  quote,"  said  he,  "  esta- 
blish the  principle  that  is  easy  for  us  to  do  good,  where- 
fore is  it  that  we  are  disputing  1  And  what  need  can 
we  have  of  Christ  or  the  Holy  Spirit  1  Christ  would 
then  have  shed  his  blood  without  necessity  to  obtain 
for  us  a  power  which  we  already  had  in  our  own  na- 
ture." In  truth  the  passages  quoted  by  Erasmus  are 
to  be  understood  in  quite  a  different  sense.  This 
much  debated  question  is  more  simple  than  it  at  first 
sight  appears.  When  the  Bible  says  to  man, '  Choose,' 
it  is  because  it  assumes  the  assistance  of  God's  grace, 
by  which  alone  he  can  obey  the  command.  God,  in 
giving  the  commandment,  gives  also  the  strength  to 
fulfil  it.  If  Christ  said  to  Lazarus,  '  Come  forth,'  it 
was  not  that  Lazarus  could  restore  himself  to  life,  but 
that  Christ,  in  commanding  him  to  como  forth,  gave 
him  the  ability  to  do  so,  and  accompanied  his  word  with 
his  creative  power.  Moreover,  U  is  quite  true  that  the 
man  to  whom  God  speaks,  must  will  to  do  ;  it  is  he 
himself,  and  not  another,  that  must  will ; — he  can  re- 
ceive this  will  from  none  but  God  ;  but  surely  in  him, 
it  must  be  ;  and  the  very  command  which  God  brings 
to  him,  and  which,  according  to  Erasmus,  proves  the 
power  to  be  in  man,  is  so  perfectly  reconcilable  with 
God's  working,  that  it  is,  in  fact,  the  very  means  by 
which  that  work  of  God  is  wrought  out.  It  is  by  say- 
ing to  the  man,  "  Be  converted,"  that  God  converts 
him. 

But  the  idea  which  Luther  especially  kept  in  view 
in  his  answer  is,  that  the  passages  quoted  by  Erasmus 
are  designed  not  to  make  known  to  men  this  pretended 
power  which  is  attributed  to  them,  but  to  show  them 
their  duty,  and  their  total  inability  to  fulfil  it.  "How 
often  does  it  happen,"  says  Luther,  "  that  a  father 
calls  to  him  his  feeble  child,  saying,  '  Will  you  come, 
my  son  1  come  then,'  in  order  that  the  child  may  learn 
to  call  for  his  assistance,  and  allow  himself  to  be  car- 
ried."* 

After  having  combated  Erasmus's  arguments  in 
favour  of  free  will,  Luther  defends  his  own  against  the 
attacks  of  his  opponent.  "  Dear  Diatribe,"  says  he, 
ironically,  "  mighty  heroine,  you  who  pride  yourself  on 
having  explained  away  those  words  of  our  Lord  in  St. 
John's  gospel,  '  without  me  ye  can  do  NOTHING,'  al- 
though you  acknowledge  their  force,  and  call  them 
Luther's  Achilles,  listen  to  me — Unless  you  prove  that 
»  L.  Opp.  xix.  p,  33.  f  Ibid.  p.  33.  \  Ibid.  p.  65. 


this  word  nothing  not  only  may,  but  must  signify  a 
little,  all  your  sounding  words,  all  your  famous  exam- 
ples, have  no  more  effect  than  if  a  man  were  to  attempt 
to  oppose  a  mighty  conflagration  with  a  handful  of 
straw.  What  matter  to  us  such  assertions  as,  This 
may  mean,  this  may  be  thus  understood,  while  you 
ought  to  prove  to  us  that  it  must  be  so  understood. 
Unless  you  do  this,  we  take  the  declaration  in  its  liter- 
al meaning,  and  laugh  at  all  your  examples,  your  fine 
exordiums,  and  self-complacent  boastings."* 

Subsequently,  Luther  shows,  still  from  the  Scrip- 
tures, that  the  grace  of  God  does  all  in  conversion.  He 
concludes  thus  :  "  In  short,  since  the  Scripture  every 
where  contrasts  Christ  with  that  which  has  not  the  Spi- 
rit of  Christ ;  since  it  declares  that  every  thing  which  is 
not  Christ,  and  in  Christ,  is  under  the 'power  of  delu- 
sion, barkness,  the  devil,  death,  sin,  and  the  wrath  of 
God  ;  it  follows  that  every  passage  in  the  Bible  which 
speaks  of  Christ  is  against  your  doctrine  of  free  will. 
Now  such  passages  are  innumerable,  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures are  full  of  them."t 

We  perceive  that  the  discussion  which  arose  between 
Luther  and  Erasmus,  is  the  same  as  that  which  oc- 
curred a  century  later  between  the  Jansenists  and 
Jesuits,  between  Pascal  and  Molina.!  Wherefore, 
then,  while  the  reformation  has  had  such  immense  re- 
sults, did  Jansenism,  though  adorned  by  the  finest 
geniuses,  go  out  in  weakness  ?  It  is  because  Jansen- 
ism went  back  to  St.  Augustine,  and  rested  for  sup- 
port on  the  father's  ;  while  the  Reformation  went  back 
to  THE  BIBLE,  and  was  based  on  the  word  of  God  ;  be- 
cause Jansenism  made  a  compromise  with  Rome,  and 
would  have  pursued  a  middle  course  between  truth  and 
error,  whereas  the  Reformation,  relying  on  God  alone, 
cleared  the  soil,  swept  away  the  incrustations  of  past 
ages,  and  laid  bare  the  primitive  rock.  To  stop  half 
way  in  any  work  is  useless  ;  in  every  undertaking  we 
must  go  through.  Hence,  while  Jansenism  has  pass- 
ed away,  Evangelical  Christianity  presides  over  the 
destinies  of  the  world. 

After  having  energetically  refuted  the  errors  of 
Erasmus,  Luther  renders  a  high  sounding,  but  perhaps 
somewhat  malicious,  homage  to  his  genius.  "  I  con- 
fess," says  he,  "  that  you  are  a  great  man  :  in  whom 
have  we  ever  beheld  more  learning,  intelligence,  or 
readiness,  both  in  speaking  and  writing  1  As  to  me, 
I  possess  none  of  these  qualities  ;  in  one  thing  only 
can  I  glory — I  am  a  Christian.  May  God  raise  you 
infinitely  above  me  in  the  knowledge  of  his  gospel,  so 
that  you  may  surpass  me  in  that  respect  as  much  as 
you  already  do  in  every  other."$ 

Erasmus  was  incensed  beyond  measure  by  the  pe- 
rusal of  Luther's  answer,  and  looked  upon  his  encomi- 
ums as  the  honey  of  a  poisoned  cup,  or  the  embrace 
of  a  serpent  at  the  moment  he  fixes  his  deadly  fang. 
He  immediately  wrote  to  the  electors  of  Saxony,  de- 
manding justice  ;  and,  when  Luther  wished  to  appease 
him,  he  lost  his  usual  temper,  and,  in  the  words  of  one 
of  his  most  zealous  apologists,  "  began  to  pour  forth 
invectives  in  a  feeble  voice,  and  with  hoary  hairs."!! 

Erasmus  was  conquered.  Moderation  had,  till  this 
occasion,  been  his  strength  ;  and  now  this  left  him. 
Anger  was  the  only  weapon  he  could  oppose  to  Luther's 
energy.  The  wisdom  of  the  philosopher,  on  this  occa- 
sion, failed  him.  He  replied,  publicly,  in  his  Hypera- 
pistes,  in  which  he  accuses  the  Reformer  of  barbarism, 
falsehood,  and  blasphemy.  The  philosopher  even  ven- 

*  L.  Opp.  xix.  p.  116.  t  Ibid.  p.  143. 

t  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  I  do  not  speak  of  per- 
sonal  discussions  between  these  two  men.  of  whom,  the  one 
died  in  1600,  and  the  other  was  not  bora  till  1623. 

&L.  Opp.  xix.  p.  146,  147. 

||  M.  Nisard.  Erasme,  p.  419. 


310 


THE  THREE  DAYS'  BATTLE-FALSE  SYSTEMS-CONRAD  GREBEL. 


tared  on  prophecy  :  "  I  predict,"  said  he,  "  that  n 
name  under  heaven  will  hereafter  be  more  execrate 
than  Luther's."  The  jubilee  of  1817  has  replied  t 
this  prophecy,  after  a  lapse  of  three  centuries,  by  th 
enthusiasm  and  acclamations  of  the  entire  Protestan 
world. 

Thus,  while  Luther,  with  the  Bible  in  his  hand,  wa 
placing  himself  in  the  van  of  his  age,  Erasmus,  i 
opposition  to  him,  sought  that  station  for  himself  an 
philosophy.  Of  these  two  chiefs,  which  has  been  fol 
lowed  1  Both,  undoubtedly.  Nevertheless,  Luther 
influence  on  the  nations  of  Christendom  has  been  in 
finitgly  greater  than  that  of  Erasmus.  Even  those  wh 
did  not  well  comprehend  the  matter  in  dispute,  seein] 
the  full  conviction  of  one  antagonist,  and  the  doubt 
of  the  other,  could  not  refrain  from  believing  that  th 
former  had  truth  on  his  side,  and  that  the  latter  was  ii 
the  wrong.  It  has  been  said  that  the  three  last  centu 
ties,  the  16th,  17th,  and  18th,  may  be  considered  as  i 
protracted  battle  of  three  days'  duration.*  We  wil 
lingly  adopt  the  comparison,  but  not  the  part,  that  i: 
allotted  to  each  of  these  days.  The  same  struggle,  i 
is  said,  marked  the  sixteenth  and  the  eighteenth  cen 
turies.  On  the  first  day,  as  on  the  last,  we  arc  tolc 
that  it  was  philosophy  that  broke  the  ranks.  The  six- 
teenth century  philosophical !  Strange  mistake  !  No 
each  of  those  days  had  its  marked  and  peculiar  charac- 
tcristic.  On  the  first,  the  word  of  God,  the  gospel  o 
Christ  triumphed,  and  Rome  was  defeated ;  and  phi- 
losophy, in  the  person  of  Erasmus,  and  her  other  cham- 
pions, shared  in  the  defeat.  On  the  second,  we  admil 
that  Rome,  her  authority,  her  discipline,  and  her  doc- 
trine, are  again  seen  on  th«  point  of  obtaining  the 
victory,  through  the  intrigues  of  a  far-famed  society 
and  the  power  of  the  scaffold,  aided  by  certain  leaders 
of  eminent  character,  and  others  of  lofty  genius.  The 
third  day,  human  philosophy  arises  in  all  its  pride,  and 
finding  the  battle  field  occupied,  not  by  the  gospel,  but 
by  Rome,  it  quickly  storms  every  entrenchment,  am! 
gains  an  easy  conquest.  The  first  day's  battle  was 
for  God,  the  second  for  the  priest,  the  third  for  reason 
— what  shall  the  fourth  bel  ....  The  confused 
struggle,  the  hard  fought  conflict,  as  we  believe,  ol 
all  these  powers  together,  which  will  end  in  the  tri 
umph  of  him  to  whom  triumph  belongs. 

But  the  battle  which  the  Reformation  fought  in  the 
great  day  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  not  one  and 
single,  but  manifold.  The  Reformation  had  to  combat 
at  once  several  enemies ;  and  after  having  protested 
against  the  decretals  and  the  sovereignty  of  the  popes 
— then  against  the  cold  apophthegms  of  rationalists, 
philosophers,  and  schoolmen— it  took  the  field  against 
Lhe  reveries  of  enthusiasm,  and  the  hallucinations  of 
mysticism  ;  opposing  alike  to  these  three  powers,  the 
iword  and  the  buckler  of  God's  holy  revelation. 

We  cannot  but  discern  a  great  resemblance— a 
strikingunity— between  these  three  powerful  adversa- 
ries. The  false  systems  which,  in  every  age,  have 
been  the  most  adverse  to  evangelical  Christianity,  have 
ever  been  distinguished  by  their  making  religious 
knowledge  to  emanate  from  man  himself.  Rationalism 
makes  it  proceed  from  reason  ;  mysticism  from  a  cer- 
tain internal  illumination  ;  Roman  Catholicism  from  an 
illumination  derived  from  the  pope.  These  three  errors 
look  for  truth  in  man ;  evangelical  Christianity  looks 
for  it  in  God  alone  ;  and  while  rationalism,  mysticism, 
ind  Roman  Catholicism,  acknowledge  a  permanent 
inspiration  in  men  like  ourselves,  and  thus  make  room 
For  every  species  of  extravagance  and  schism  ;  evan- 
gelical Christianity  recognises  this  inspiration  only  in 
LUC  writings  of  the  apostles  and  prophets,  and  alone 

*  Port  Royal,  par  Sainte  Benve,  vol.  i.  p.  90.    -^  \f  ' 


presents  that  great,  noble,  and  living  unity  which  con- 
tinues to  exist  unchanged  throughout  all  ages. 

The  office  of  the  Reformation  has  been  to  re-esta- 
blish the  rights  of  the  word  of  God,  in  oppositon,  not 
only  to  Roman  Catholicism,  but  also  to  Rationalism 
and  Mysticism. 

The  fanaticism  of  the  Anabaptists,  which  had  been 
extingushed  in  Germany,  by  Luther's  return  to  Wit- 
temberg,  reappeared  in  vigour  in  Switzerland,  where 
it  threatened  the  edifice  which  Zwingle,  Haller,  and 
CEcolampadius,  had  erected  on  the  foundation  of  the 
word  of  God.  Thomas  Miinzer,  obliged  to  quit  Sax- 
ony, in  1521,  had  reached  the  frontiers  of  Switzerland. 
Conrad  Grebel,  whose  ardent  and  restless  disposition 
we  have  already  remarked,  had  joined  him,  as  had  also 
Felix  Mantz,  a  canon's  son,  and  several  other  natives 
of  Zurich.  Grebel  endavourcd  to  gain  over  Zwingle. 
It  was  in  vain  that  the  latter  had  gone  further  than 
Luther;  he  saw  a  party  spring  up  which  desired  to 
proceed  to  yet  greater  lengths.  "  Let  us,"  said  Gre- 
bel, "  form  a  community  of  true  believers  ;  for  it  is  to 
them  alone  that  the  promise  belongs  ;  and  let  us  esta- 
blish a  church,  which  shall  be  without  sin."*"  "  It  is 
not  possible,"  replied  Zwingle,  "  to  make  a  heaven 
upon  earth  ;  and  Christ  has  taught  us  to  let  tares  grow 
among  the  wheat."t 

Grebel,  unsuccessful  with  the  Reformer,  wished  to 
appeal  from  him  to  the  people.  "  The  whole  commu- 
nity of  Zurich,"  said  he,  "  is  entitled  to  decide  finally 
n  all  matters  of  faith."  But  Zwingle  dreaded  the  in- 
luenco  which  violent  enthusiasts  might  exercise  in  a 
topular  assembly.  He  believed  that,  except  on  some 
extraordinary  occasions,  where  the  people  might  be 
called  on  to  give  their  support,  it  was  more  desirable 

0  confide  the  interests  of  religion  to  a  college,  which 
might  be  considered  the  chosen  representatives  of  the 
church.     Consequently,  the  Council  of  two  Hundred, 
which  then  exercised  the  supreme  political  authority 

n   Zurich,  was  also  entrusted  with  the  ecclcsiatical 
>ower,  on  the  express  condition  that  it  should  conform, 
n  all  things,  to  the  rule  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.     Un- 
loubtly  it  would  have  been  preferable  to  have  orga- 
lised  the  church  complete,  and  called  on  it  to  name 
epresentatives,  to  whom  no  interests  save  the  religious 
nterests  of  the  people  should  be  confided  ;  for  he  who 
s  qualified  for  affairs  of  state,  may  be  very  unskilful 
n  administering  those  of  the  church, — just  as  the  re- 
verse of  this  is  also  true.     Nevertheless,  the  incon- 
venience was  not  then  so  serious  as  it  would  be  in  our 
ays,  for  the  members  of  the  Grand  Council  had  heart- 
y  embarked   in  the   religous  movement.     However 
his  may  be,    Zwingle,  in  his  appeal  to  the  church, 
would  not  bring  it  too  prominently  forward  ;  and  pre- 
erred  a  system  of  representation  to  the  active  sove- 
eignty  of  the  general  body.     It  is  the  same  policy 
hich,  after  three  centuries,  the  states  of  Europe  have 
dopted,  in  reference  to  earthly  politics. 

Meeting  with  a  repulse  from  Zwingle,  Grebel  turned 
n  another  direction.  Roubli,  an  aged  minister  of 
lasle,  Brodtlein,  minister  at  Zollikon,  and  Lewi* 
lerzer,  welcomed  his  advances.  They  resolved  on 
orming  an  independent  body  in  the  centre  of  the  gene- 

1  community, — a  church  within  the  church.     A  new 
aptism  was  to  be  their  instrument  for  gathering  their 
ongregration,  which  was  to   consist  exclusively   of 
rue  believers.     "  The  baptism  of  infants,"  said  they, 

is  a  horrible  abomination— a  flagrant  impiety,  invent- 
d  by  the  evil  spirit,  and  by  Pope  Nicholas  II."t 

Vermeintend  ein  Kirchen  zu  versammlen  die  one  Siind 
ar.    (Zw.  Opp.  ii.  p.  231.) 
fZw.  Opp.  iii.  p.  262. 

{ Impietatem  manifestissimam,  a  caco  dsemone,  a  Nicolao, 
.  essc.  (Hottinger,  iii.  p.  219.) 


*THE  LITTLE  JERUSALEM  "—ANABAPTIST  FEAST— HORRIBLE  TRAGEDY.        311 


The  Council  of  Zurich,  in  some  alarm,  directed  that 
a  public  discussion  should  be  held  ;  and,  as  the  Anabap- 
tists still  refused  to  relinquish  their  errors,some  of  them, 
who  were  natives  of  Zurich,  were  imprisoned, and  others, 
who  were  foreigners,  were  banished.  But  persecution 
only  inflamed  their  zeal.  "  It  is  not  by  words  alone," 
cried  they,  "  but  by  our  blood,  that  we  are  ready  to 
bear  testimony  to  the  truth  of  our  cause."  Some  of 
them,  girding  themselves  with  ropes,  or  rods  of  osier, 
ran  through  the  streets,  crying,  "  Yet  a  few  days,  and 
Zurich  will  be  destroyed  !  Woe  to  thee,  Zurich  !  woe ! 
woe  !"  Several  there  were  who  uttered  blasphemies  : 
"  Baptism,"  said  they,"  is  but  the  washing  of  a  dog.  To 
baptize  a  child  is  of  no  more  use  than  baptizing  a  cat."* 
Fourteen  men,  including  Felix  Mantz,  and  seven  wo- 
men, were  arrested,  and,  in  spite  of  Z  wingle's  intreaties, 
imprisoned,  on  an  allowance  of  bread  and  water,  in  the 
heretic's  tower.  After  a  fortnight's  confinement,  they 
managed,  by  removing  some  planks  in  the  floor,  to  ef- 
fect their  escape  during  the  night.  "  An  angel,"  they 
said,  "  had  opened  their  prison  doors,  and  set  them 
free."t 

They  were  joined  by  George  Jacob,  of  Coira,  a  monk, 
who  had  absconded  from  his  convent,  and  who  was 
surnamed  Blaurock,  as  it  would  seem,  from  his  con- 
stantly wearing  a  blue  dress.  His  eloquence  had  ob- 
tained for  him  the  appellation  of  a  second  Paul.  This 
intrepid  monk  travelled  from  place  to  place,  constrain- 
ing many,  by  the  fervour  of  his  appeals,  to  receive  his 
baptism.  One  Sunday,  at  Zollikon,  while  the  deacon 
was  preaching,  the  impetuous  Anabaptist,  suddenly  in- 
terrupting him,  exclaimed  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  "  It  is 
written,  My  house  is  a  house  of  prayer,  but  ye  have 
made  it  a  den  of  thieves."  Then,  raising  the  staff  he 
carried  in  his  hand,  he  struck  it  four  times  violently  on 
the  ground. 

"I  am  a  door,"  exclaimed  he  :  "  by  me,  if  any  man 
enter  in,  he  shall  find  pasture.  I  am  a  good  shepherd. 
My  body  I  give  to  the  prison  ;  my  life  to  the  sword, 
the  axe,  and  the  wheel.  I  am  the  beginning  of  the  bap- 
tism, and  of  the  bread  of  the  Lord.":}: 

While  Zwingle  was  attempting  to  stem  the  torrent 
of  Anabaptism  at  Zurich,  it  quickly  inundated  St.  Gall 
Grebe!  arrived  there,  and  was  received  by  the  brethren 
with  acclamations  ;  and  on  Palm  Sunday  he  proceeded 
to  the  banks  of  the  Sitter,  attended  by  a  great  number 
of  his  adherents,  whom  he  there  baptized. 

The  news  soon  spread  through  the  neighbouring  can 
tons,  and  a  great  multitude  from  Zurich,  Appenzell, 
and  various  other  places,  flocked  to  "  the  little  Jerusa 
lem." 

Zwingle  was  deeply  afflicted  by  this  agitation.  He  saw 
a  storm  descending  on  the  land  where  the  seeds  of  the 
Gospel  had  as  yet  scarcely  begun  to  take  root.  $  Re 
solving  to  oppose  these  disorders,  he  composed  a  tract 
"  on  Baptism, "II  which  the  Council  of  St.  Gall,  to  whom 
he  dedicated  it,  caused  to  be  read  in  the  church  in  the 
hearing  of  the  people. 

"  Dear  brethren  in  the  Lord,"  said  Zwingle,  "  the 
waters  of  the  torrents  which  rush  from  our  rocks  hurry 
with  them  everything  within  their  reach.  At  first 
small  stones  only  are  put  in  motion ;  but  these  are 
driven  violently  against  larger  ones,  until  the  torren 
acquires  such  strength,  that  it  carries  away  everything 
it  encounters  in  its  course,  leaving  behind  lamentations 

*  Nutr-cte  eben  so  viel  als  wenn  man  eine  Katze  taufet 
(Fussl.  Beytr.  i.p.  243.) 

f  Wie  die  Apostel  von  dem  Engel  Gottes  gelediget.  (Bull 
Chr.  p.  261.) 

t  Icb.  din  ein  Anfangcr  der  Taufe  und  des  Herrn  Erodes 
(Fussl  Beytr.  i.  p.  264.) 

^  Mich  beduret  seer  das  ungewitter.  (Zw.  to  the  Counci 
of  St.  Oall.ii.  p.  230.) 

n  Vom  Tout ,  vom  Widertouf,  und  vom  Kindertouf.  (Zw 
Opp.  ii.  p.  MO.) 


vain  regrets,  and  fertile  meadows  changed  into  a  wil- 
derness. The  spirit  of  disputation  and  self-righteous- 
ness, acts  in  a  similar  manner ;  it  occasions  disturb- 
ances, banishes  charity,  and  where  it  found  fair  and 
>rosperous  churches,  leaves  behind  it  nothing  but  mourn- 
ng  and  desolate  flocks." 

Thus  wrote  Zwingle — the  child  of  the  mountains  of 
he  Tockenburg.  "  Give  us  the  word  of  God,"  ex- 
claimed an  Anabaptist,  who  was  present  in  church, "and 
lot  the  word  of  Zwingle."  Immediately  confused  voices 
irose  :  "  Away  with  the  book  !  away  with  the  book  !" 
cried  the  Anabaptists.  Then  rising,  they  quitted  the 
church,  exclaiming,  "Do  you  keep  the  doctrine  of 
Zwingle ;  as  for  us,  we  will  keep  the  word  of  God."* 

Then  it  was  that  this  fanaticism  broke  forth  in  la- 
mentable disorders.  Alleging,  in  excuse,  that  the  Sa- 
viour had  exhorted  us  to  become  as  little  children,  these 
joor  creatures  began  to  go  dancing  through  the  streets, 
clapping  their  hands,  footing  it  in  a  circle,  seating  them- 
lelves  on  the  ground  together,  and  tumbling  each  othor 
n  the  sand.  Some  there  were  who  threw  the  New 
Testament  into  the  fire,  exclaiming, "  The  letter  killeth, 
he  spirit  giveth  life  ;"  and  several,  falling  into  convul- 
sions, pretended  to  have  revelations  from  the  Holy 
Spirit. 

In  a  solitary  house,  situated  on  the  Mullegg,  near 
St.  Gall,  lived  an  aged  farmer,  John  Schucker,  with  hia 
ive  sons.  The  whole  family,  including  the  servants, 
lad  received  the  new  baptism  ;  and  two  of  the  sons, 
Thomas  and  Leonard,  were  distinguished  for  their  fa- 
naticism. On  the  7th  of  February,  1526,  being  Shrove 
Tuesday,  they  invited  a  large  party  of  Anabaptists  to 
their  house,  and  the  father  had  a  calf  killed  for  the  feast. 
The  good  cheer,  the  wine,  and  their  numbers  altogether, 
heated  their  imaginations  ;  and  they  spent  the  whole 
night  in  fanatical  excitement,  convulsions,  visions,  and 
revelations. -f 

In  the  morning,  Thomas,  still  agitated  by  that  night 
of  disorder,  and  having  even,  as  it  would  seem,  lost  his 
senses,  took  the  calf's  bladder,  and  placing  part  of  the 
gall  in  it,  in  imitation  of  the  symbolical  language  of  tho 
prophets,  approached  his  brother,  Leonard,  and  said  to 
him  gloomily,  "  Thus  bitter  is  the  death  thou  art  to 
suffer !"  Then  he  added,  "Brother  Leonard,  fall  on 
thy  knees  ;"  Leonard  knelt  down  : — presently,  *'  Bro- 
ther Leonard,  arise  !"  Leonard  arose.  Their  father, 
brothers,  and  the  other  Anabaptists,  looked  on  with 
astonishment,  asking  themselves  what  God  would  do. 
Soon  Thomas  resumed:  "  Leonard,  kneel  down  again !" 
Leonard  obeyed.  The  spectators,  terrified  at  the  gloomy 
countenance  of  the  wretched  Thomas,  said  to  him,"Re- 
flect  on  what  thou  art  about  to  do ;  take  care  that  no 
mischief  happens. — "  Fear  not,"  answered  Thomas, 
"  nothing  will  happen  without  the  will  of  the  Father." 
At  the  same  moment,  he  hastily  snatched  a  sword,  and 
bringing  it  down  with  all  his  force  on  the  neck  of  his 
brother,  who  was  kneeling  before  him,  like  a  criminal 
before  the  executioner,  he  severed  his  head  from  his 
body,  crying  out.  "  Now  is  the  will  of  the  Father  ac- 
complished !"'  The  bystanders  recoiled  in  horror ;  the 
farm  resounded  with  lamentations.  Thomas,  who  had 
nothing  on  him  but  his  shirt  and  drawers,  rushed  out  of 
the  house,  barefooted,  and  with  his  head  uncovered, 
and  running  toward  St.  Gall  with  frenzied  gestures, 
entered  the  house  of  the  burgomaster,  Joachim  Vadian, 
with  haggard  looks,  shouting,  "  I  proclaim  to  thee  tho 
day  of  the  Lord  "  The  dreadful  tidings  spread  through- 
out St  Gall—"  He  has  killed  his  brother,  as  Cain  killed 
Abel,"  said  the  crowd. t  The  criminal  was  seized. — 

*  So  wollen  wir  Gdrtes  Wort  hahen.    (Zw.  Opp.  ii  p.  237.) 

f  Mit  wundcrbaren  geperden  und  gesprachen,  verzucken, 
gesichten,  und  oftenbarungen.  (Bulling.  Chr.  i.  p.  334.) 

\  O.'vch  wie  Kain  den  Abel  sinen  bruder  ermort  hat !  (Bull, 
Chr.  i."  p.  324.) 


312 


DISCUSSION  ON  BAPTISM— OPINIONS  NOT  PUNISHABLE. 


— "  True,"  he  repeated  continually,  "  I  did  it,  but  it 
was  God  who  did  it  by  my  hand."  On  the  16th  of 
February,  the  unhappy  wretch  was  beheaded  by  the 
executioner.  Fanaticism  had  run  its  course  to  the  ut- 
most. Men's  eyes  were  opened,  and,  to  adopt  the 
words  of  an  early  historian,  "  the  same  blow  took  off 
the  head  of  Thomas  Schucker,  and  of  Anabaptism  in 
St.  Gall." 

At  Zurich,  however,  it  still  prevailed.  On  the  6th 
of  November,  in  the  preceding  year,  a  public  discussion 
had  taken  place,  in  order  to  content  the  Anabaptists, 
who  were  constantly  complaining  that  the  innocent 
were  condemned  unheard.  The  three  following  theses 
were  put  forth  by  Zwingle  and  his  friends,  as  subjects 
of  the  conference,  and  triumphantly  maintained  by 
them  in  the  Council  hall. 

"  The  children  of  believing  parents  are  children  of 
God,  even  as  those  who  were  born  under  the  Old  Tes- 
tament ;  and  consequently  they  may  receive  Baptism." 

"  Baptism  is,  under  the  New  Testament,  what  Cir- 
cumcision was  under  the  Old.  Consequently,  Baptism 
is  now  to  be  administered  to  children,  as  Circumci- 
sion was  formerly." 

"  The  custom  of  repeating  Baptism  cannot  be  justi- 
fied either  by  examples,  precepts,  or  arguments  drawn 
from  Scripture  ;  and  those  who  are  re-baptized,  crucify 
Jesus  Christ  afresh." 

But  the  Anabaptists  did  not  confine  themselves  to 
questions  purely  religious  ;  they  demanded  the  aboli- 
tion of  tithes  ;  "  since,"  said  they,  "  they  are  not  of 
divine  appointment."  Zwingle  replied  that  the  tithes 
were  necessary  for  the  maintenance  of  the  churches 
and  schools.  He  desired  a  complete  religous  refor- 
mation, but  he  resolved  not  to  allow  the  least  invasion 
of  public  order  or  political  institutions.  This  was  the 
limit  at  which  he  discerned,  written  by  the  hand  of 
God,  that  word  from  heaven,  "  Thus  far  shall  thou  go, 
and  no  farther."*  Somewhere,  it  was  necessary  to 
make  a  stand  ;  and  it  was  at  this  point  that  Zwingle 
and  the  Reformers  took  their  stand,  in  spite  of  the 
efforts  made  by  rash  and  impetuous  men  to  hurry  them 
beyond  it. 

But  when  the  Reformers  themselves  stopped,  they 
could  not  stop  the  enthusiasts,  who  seems  as  if  brought 
into  contact  with  them  in  order  to  set  off  by  contrast 
their  wisdom  and  sober-mindedness.  It  was  not 
enough  for  the  Anabaptists  to  have  formed  their 
church  ;— in  their  eyes  that  church  was  itself  the  State. 
Did  any  one  summon  them  before  the  tribunals, — they 
refused  to  recognise  the  civil  authority,  maintaining 
that  it  was  a  remnant  of  Paganism,  and  that  they 
would  obey  no  power  but  that  of  God  !  They  taught 
that  it  was  unlawful  for  Christians  to  fill  public  offices 
or  bear  the  sword, — and,  resembling  in  another  respect 
certain  irreligious  enthusiasts  of  oar  own  days,  they  es- 
teemed a  '  community  of  goods'  as  the  perfection  of 
humanity. t 

Thus  the  evil  was  increasing ;  Civil  Society  was 
endangered.  It  arose  to  cast  out  from  its  bosom  those 
elements  that  threatened  it  with  destruction.  The 
Government,  in  its  alarm,  suffered  itself  to  be  hurried 
into  strange  measures.  Resolved  on  making  an  ex- 
ample, they  condemned  Mantz  to  be  drowned.  On 
the  5th  January,  1527,  he  was  put  into  a  boat ;  his 
mother,  (the  aged  concubine  of  his  father,  the  canon,) 
together  with  his  brother,  mingled  in  the  crowd  which 
accompained  him  to  the  water's  edge.  "  Be  faithful 
unto  death,"  was  their  exhortation.  At  the  moment 
when  the  executioner  prepared  to  throw  Mantz  into 
the  lake,  his  brother  burst  into  tears ;  but  his  mother, 

'Job  xxxviii.  11. 

t  Fussll.  Bey tr.  i.  p.  2-29—253 ;  il  p.  368. 


calm  and  undaunted,  witnessed,  with  eyes  dry  and 
flashing  fire,  the  martyrdom  of  her  son.* 

The  same  day,  Blaurock  was  scourged  with  rods. 
As  he  was  led  outside  the  city,  he  shook  his  blue  dress, 
and  the  dust  from  off  his  feet,  against  it.f  This  un- 
happy man  was,  it  would  appear,  burnt  alive  two  years 
after  this  by  the  Roman  Catholics  of  the  Tyrol. 

Undoubtedly,  a  spirit  of  rebellion  existed  among 
the  Anabaptists ;  undoubtedly , the  ancient  ecclesiastical 
law,  which  condemned  heretics  to  capital  punishments, 
was  still  in  force,  and  the  Reformation  could  not,  in 
the  space  of  one  or  two  years,  reform  everything  ;  nor 
can  we  doubt  that  the  Catholic  states  would  have  ac- 
cused their  Protestant  neighbours  of  encouraging  insub- 
jection,  if  the  latter  had  not  resorted  to  severe  mea- 
sures against  these  enthusiasts ;  but  though  such 
considerations  serve  to  account  for  the  rigour  of  the 
magistrate,  they  never  can  justify  it.  Measures  might 
be  taken  against  an  infringement  of  the  civil  constitu- 
tion, but  religious  errors,  being  combated  by  the  teach- 
ers of  religion,  should  be  altogether  exempt  from  the  ju- 
risdiction of  civil  tribunals.  Such  opinions  are  not  to  be 
expelled  by  whippings,  nor  are  they  drowned  in  the  wa- 
ters into  which  those  who  profess  them  may  be  cast : 
they  again  come  forth  from  the  depth  of  the  abyss ; 
and  the  fire  but  serves  to  kindle  in  those  who  adhere 
to  them  a  fiercer  enthusiasm,  and  a  thirstfor  martyrdom. 
Zwingle,  whose  sentiments  on  this  subject  we  have 
already  seen,  took  no  part  in  these  severities,  t 

But  it  was  not  only  on  the  subject  of  baptism  that 
dissensions  were  to  arise  ;  yet  more  serious  differ- 
ences appeared,  touching  tho  doctrine  of  the  Lord's 
Supper. 

The  human  mind,  freed  from  the  yoke  which  had 
so  long  weighed  it  down,  made  use  of  its  liberty  ;  and, 
if  Romanism  is  hemmed  in  by  the  shoals  of  despotic 
authority,  Protestantism  has  to  steer  clear  of  those  of 
anarchv.  One  characteristic  distinction  of  Protestant- 
ism is 'progress,  while  that  of  Romanism  is  immobi- 
lity. 

Roman  Catholicism,  possessing  in  the  papal  autho- 
rity a  means  of,  at  any  time,  establishing  new  doctrines, 
appears,  at  first  view,  to  have  in  it  a  principle  emi- 
nently favourable  to  change.  It  has,  indeed,  largely 
availed  itself  of  this  power,  and,  century  after  century, 
we  see  Rome  bringing  forward,  or  confirming,  new 
dogmas.  But  its  system  once  completed,  Roman 
Catholicism  has  declared  itself  the  champion  of  immo- 
bility. Therein  lies  its  safety:  it  resembles  a  shaky 
building,  from  which  nothing  can  be  taken  without 
bringing  the  whole  down  to  the  ground.  Permit  the 
priests  to  marry,  or  strike  a  blow  against  the  doctrine 
of  transubstantiation,  and  the  whole  system  totters — 
the  entire  edifice  falls  to  pieces. 

It  is  not  thus  with  Evangelical  Christianity.  Its  prin- 
ciple is  much  less  favourable  to  change,  much  more 
so  to  progress  and  life.  On  the  one  hand,  it  recog- 
nises no  other  fountain  of  truth  than  Scripture,  one 
and  immutably  the  same,  from  the  very  beginning  of 
the  Church  to  the  end  of  time  ;  how,  then,  should  it 
vary,  as  Popery  has  varied  ?  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
every  individual  Christian  is  to  draw  for  himself  from 
this  fountain ;  and  hence  spring  progress  and  liberty. 
Accordingly,  Evangelical  Christianity,  although  in  the 
nineteenth  century  the  same  that  it  was  in  the  sixteenth, 
and  in  the  first,  is, — at  all  times, — full  of  spontaneity 

x  Ohne  das  eroder  die  Mutter,  sondern  nur  der  Bruder 
geweinet.  (Hott.  Helv.  K.  Gesch.  iii.  p.  335.) 

\  Und  schiittlet  sinen  blauen  rock  unn  sine  schiih  iiber  die 
Statt  Zurich.  (Bull.  Chr.  5.  p.  382.) 

\  Quod  homines  seditiosi.  rei-publicaeturbatores,  magistra- 
tumn  hostes,  justa  Senatus  sentential,  damnati  sunt,  numid 
Zwinglio  fraudi  esse  potent  ?  (Bod.  Gualtheri  Epist.  ad  lee- 
torem,  Opp.  1544.  ii.) 


ZWINGLE  AND  LUTHER— ZWINGLE  ON  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER. 


313 


arid  action  ;  and  is,  at  this  moment,  filling  the  wide 
world  with  its  researches  and  its  labours,  its  Bibles 
and  its  missionaries,  with  light,  salvation,  and  life  ! 

It  is  a  gross  error  which  would  class  together,  and 
almost  confound,  rationalism  and  mysticism  with 
Christianity,  and,  in  so  doing,  charge  upon  it  the  ex- 
travagances of  both.  Progress  belongs  to  the  nature 
of  Christian  Protestantism  :  it  has  nothing  in  common 
with  immobility  and  a  state  of  deadness  ;  but  its  move- 
ment is  that  of  healthful  vitality,  and  not  the  aberration 
of  madmen,  or  the  restlessness  of  disease.  We  shall 
see  this  character  manifesting  itself  in  relation  to  the 
doctrine  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 

What  ensued  might  have  been  expected.  This 
doctrine  had  been  understood  in  very  various  ways  in 
the  early  ages  of  the  Churchy  and  the  difference  of 
opinion  continued  up  to  the  time  when  the  doctrine  of 
Iransubstantiationand  the  scholastic  theology  began,  at 
about  the  same  period,  their  reign  over  the  mind  of 
the  middle  ages.  But  that  dominion  was  now  shaken 
tc  its  base,  and  the  former  differences  were  again  to 
appear. 

Zwingle  and  Luther,  who  had  at  first  gone  forward, 
each  in  his  separate  course, — the  one  in  Switzerland, 
the  other  in  Saxony, — were  one  day  to  find  themselves 
brought,  as  it  were,  face  to  face.  The  same  mind, 
and,  in  many  respects,  the  same  character,  might  be 
discerned  in  them.  Both  were  full  of  love  for  truth 
and  hatred  of  injustice  ;  both  were  naturally  violent ; 
and  in  both  that  violence  was  tempered  by  sincere  pie- 
ty. But  there  was  one  feature  in  the  character  of 
Zwingle  which  tended  to  carry  him  beyond  Luther. 
He  loved  liberty,  not  only  as  a  man,  but  as  a  republi- 
can, and  the  fellow-countryman  of  Tell.  Accustomed 
to  the  decision  of  a  free  state,  he  was  not  stopped  by 
considerations  before  which  Luther  drew  back.  He 
had,  moreover,  given  less  time  to  the  study  of  the  theo- 
logy of  the  schools,  and  found  himself,  in  consequence, 
less  shackled  in  his  modes  of  thinking.  Both  ardently 
attached  to  their  own  convictions, — both  resolute  in 
defending  them, — and  little  accustomed  to  bend  to  the 
convictions  of  others,  they  were  now  to  come  in  con- 
tact, like  two  proud  chargers  rushing  from  opposite 
ranks,  and  encountering  on  the  field  of  battle. 

A  practical  tendency  predominated  in  the  character 
of  Zwingle  and  of  the  Reformation  which  he  had  begun, 
and  this  tendency  was  directed  to  two  great  ends — 
simplicity  in  worship,  and  sanctification  in  life.  To 
adapt  the  form  of  worship  to  the  wants  of  the  soul, 
seeking  not  outward  ceremonies,  but  things  invisible, 
was  Zwingle's  first  object.  The  idea  of  Christ's  real 
presence  in  the  Eucharist,  which  had  given  rise  to  so 
many  ceremonies  and  superstitions  in  the  Church, 
must,  therefore,  be  abolished.  But  the  other  great 
desire  of  the  Swiss  Reformer  led  him  directly  to  the 
same  result.  He  judged  that  the  Romish  doctrine  re- 
specting the  Supper,  and  even  that  held  by  Luther, 
implied  a  belief  of  a  certain  mystical  influence,  which 
belief,  he  thought,  stood  in  the  way  of  sanctification  ; 
— he  feared  lest  tho  Christian,  thinking  that  he  received 
Christ  in  the  consecrated  bread,  should  no  longer  ear- 
nestly seek  to  be  united  to  him  by  faith  in  the  heart. 
"  Faith,"  said  he,  *'  is  not  knowledge,  opinion,  imagi- 
nation ; — it  is  a  reality.*  It  involves  in  it  a  real 
participation  in  divine  things."  Thus,  whatever  the 
adversaries  of  Zwingle  may  have  asserted,  it  was  no 
leaning  towards  rationalism,  but  a  deep  religious  view 
of  the  subject  which  conducted  him  to  the  doctrines 
he  maintained. 

The  result  of  Zwingle's  studies  were  in  accordance 
with  these  tendencies.  In  studying  the  Scriptures,  not 

*  Fidem  rem  esse,  nonscientiam,  opinionem  vel  imagina- 
tionera.  (Comment  de  vera  relig.  Zw.  Opp.  iii.  P.  230.) 

Qi 


only  in  detached  passages,  but  as  a  whole,  and  having 
recourse  to  classical  antiquity  to  solve  the  difficulties 
of  language,  he.  arrived  at  the  conviction,  that  the 
word  "is,"  in  the  words  of  institution  of  this  sacrament, 
should  be  taken  in  the  sense  of  "signifies;"  and,  as 
early  as  the  year  1523,  he  wrote  to  a  friend,  that  the 
bread  and  wine  in  the  Lord's  Supper  are  exactly  what 
the  water  is  in  baptism.*  "  In  vain,"  added  he,  would 
you  plunge  a  thousand  times  under  the  water  a  man 
who  does  not  beleivc.  Faith  is  the  one  thing  need- 
ful." 

Luther,  at  first,  set  out  from  principles  nearly  simi- 
lar to  those  of  the  Reformer  of  Zurich.  "  It  is  not 
the  sacrament  which  sanctifies,"  said  he,  "  it  is  faith 
in  the  sacrament."  But  the  extravagances  of  the 
Anabaptists,  whose  mysticism  spiritualized  everything, 
produced  a  great  change  in  his  views.  When  he  saw- 
enthusiasts,  who  pretended  to  inspiration,  destroying 
images,  rejecting  baptism,  and  denying  the  presence 
of  Christ  in  the  Eucharist,  he  was  affrighted  ;  he  had  a 
kind  of  prophetic  presentiment  of  the  dangers  which 
would  threaten  the  Church  if  this  tendency  to  over- 
spiritualize,  should  gain  the  ascendant ;  hence  he  took 
a  totally  different  course,  like  the  boatman,  who,  to 
restore  the  balance  of  his  foundering  skiff,  throw*  all 
his  weight  on  the  side  opposed  to  the  storm. 

Thenceforward,  Luther  assigned  to  the  sacraments 
a  higher  importance  He  maintained  they  were  not 
only  signs  by  which  Christians  were  outwardly  distin- 
guished, but  evidences  of  the  Divine  will,  adapted  to 
strengthen  our  faith.  He  went  farther :  Christ,  accord- 
ing to  him,  desired  to  give  to  believers  a  full  assurance 
of  salvation,  and,  in  order  to  seal  this  promise  to  them 
with  most  effect,  had  added  thereto  his  real  body  in 
the  bread  and  wine.  "  Just,"  continued  hcr  "  as  iron 
and  fire,  though  two  different  substances,  meet  and  are 
blended  in  a  red  hot  bar,  so  that  in  every  part  of  it 
there  is  at  once  iron  and  fire;  so,  d  fortiori,  the  glori- 
fied body  of  Christ  exists  in  every  part  of  the  bread." 

Thus,  at  this  period  of  his  career,  Luther  made,  per- 
haps, a  partial  return  to  the  scholastic  theology.  He 
had  openly  divorced  himself  from  it  on  the  doctrine  of 
justification  by  faith  ;  but  on  the  doctrine  of  this  sa- 
crament, he  gave  up  but  one  point  viz :  transubstantia- 
tion,  and  retained  the  other,  the  real  presence.  Ho 
even  went  so  far  as  to  say,  that  he  would  rather  receive 
the  mere  blood  with  the  Pope,  than  the  mere  wine 
with  Zwingle. 

Luther's  great  principle  was  never  to  depart  from  the 
doctrines  or  customs  of  the  Church,  unless  the  words 
of  Scripture  absolutely  required  him  to  do  so.  "  Where 
has  Christ  commanded  us  to  elevate  the  host,  and  ex- 
hibit it  to  the  people  ?"  had  been  CarUtadi's  question. 
"Where  has  he  forbidden  it?"  was  Luther's  reply. 
Herein  lies  the  difference  of  the  two  Reformations  we 
are  considering.  The  traditions  of  the  Church  were 
dear  to  the  Saxon  Reformer.  If  he  separated  from, 
them  on  many  points,  it  was  not  till  after  much  conflict 
of  mind,  and  because,  above  all,  he  saw  the  necessity 
of  obeying  the  word  of  God.  But  wherever  the  letter 
of  God's  word  appeared  to  him  in  accordance  with  the 
tradition  and  practice  of  the  Church,  he  adhered  to  it 
with  unalterable  resolution.  Now  this  was  the  case 
in  the  question  concerning  the  Lord's  Supper.  He 
did  not  deny  that  the  word  "  i«"  slight  be  taken  in  tho 
sense  ascribed  to  it  by  Zwingle.  He  admitted,  for  ex- 
ample, that  it  must  be  so  understood  in  the  passage, 
"  That  rock  wus  Christ  ;"t  but  what  he  did  deny  was 
that  the  word  should  be  taken  in  this  sense  in  the  in- 
stitution of  the  Lord's  Supper. 

*  Haud  aliter  hie  panem  et  vinum  esse  puto  quam  aqua  eft 
in  baptismo.     (Ad  Wittenbachium  Epp.  15th  June,  623.) 
f  I  Cor.  x.  4. 


CARLSTADT'S  WRITINGS  PROHIBITED— ZWINGLE'S  COMMENTARY 


3.4 

In  ono  of  the  later  schoolmen,  Occam,  whom  he  pre- 
ferred to  all  others,*  he  found  an  opinion  which  he  em- 
braced. With  Occam,  he  gave  up  the  continually 
repeated  miracle,  in  virtue  thereof,  according  to  the  Ro- 
mish Church,  the  body  and  blood  take  the  place  of  the 
bread  and  wine  after  every  act  of  consecration  by  the 
priest — and  with  Occam,  substituted  for  it  a  universal 
miracle,  wrought  once  for  all — that  is,  the  ubiquity  or 
omnipresence  of  Christ's  body.  "  Christ,"  said  he,  "  is 
present  in  the  bread  and  wine,  because  he  is  present 
everywhere,  and  in  an  especial  manner  where  he  wills 
to  be."t 

The  inclination  of  Zwingle  was  the  reverse  of  Lu- 
ther's. He  attached  less  importance  to  preserving  a 
union,  in  a  certain  sense,  with  the  universal  church, 
and  thus  maintaining  our  hold  upon  the  tradition  of 
past  ages.  As  a  theologian,  he  looked  to  Scripture 
alone  ;  and  thence  only  would  he  freely,  and  without 
any  intermediary  channel,  derive  his  faith  ;  not  stop- 
ping to  trouble  himself  with  what  others  had  in  former 
times  believed.  As  a  republican,  he  looked  to  the 
commune  of  Zurich.  His  mind  was  occupied  with  the 
idea  of  the  church  of  his  own  time,  not  with  that  of 
other  days.  He  relied  especially  on  the  words  of  St. 
Paul, — "  Because  there  is  but  one  bread,  we  being 
many,  are  one  body  ;$  and  he  saw  in  the  supper  the 
sign  of  a  spiritual  communion  between  Christ  and  all 
Christians.  "  Whoever,"  said  he  "  acts  unworthily, 
is  guilty  of  sin  against  the  body  of  Christ,  of  which  he 
is  a  member."  Such  a  thought  had  a  great  practical 
powerover  the  minds  of  communicants;  and  the  effects 
it  wrought  in  the  lives  of  many,  was  to  Zwingle  the 
confirmation  of  it. 

Thus  Luther  and  Zwingle  had  insensibly  separated 
from  one  another.  Nevertheless  peace,  perhaps, 
might  have  continued  between  them  if  the  turbulent 
Carlstadt,  who  spent  some  time  in  passing  to  and  fro 
between  Germany  and  Switzerland,  had  not  inflamed 
their  conflicting  opinions. 

A  step,  taken  with  a  view  to  preserve  peace,  led  to 
the  explosion.  The  Council  of  Zurich,  wishing  to  put 
a  stop  to  controversy,  prohibited  the  sale  of  Carlstadt's 
writings.  Zwingle,  though  he  disapproved  the  vio- 
lence of  Carlstadt,  and  blamed  his  mystic  and  obscure 
expressions,^  upon  this,  thought  it  right  to  defend  his 
doctrine,  both  from  the  pulpit  and  before  the  Council ; 
and  soon  afterwards  he  wrote  a  letter  to  the  minister, 
Albert  of  Reutlingen,  in  which  he  said  :  "  Whether 
or  not  Christ  is  speaking  of  the  sacrament  in  the  sixth 
chapter  of  St.  John's  gospel,  it  is  at  least,  evident, 
that  he  therein  teaches  a  mode  of  eating  his  flesh  and 
drinking  his  blood,  in  which  there  is  nothing  corpo- 
real.'MI  He  then  endeavoured  to  prove  that  the  Sup- 
per of  the  Lord,  by  reminding  the  faithful,  according 
to  Christ's  design,  of  his  body  which  '  was  broken'  for 
them,  is  the  procuring  cause  of  that  spiritual-mandu- 
cation,  which  is  alone  truly  beneficial  to  them. 

Nevertheless,  Zwingle  still  shrunk  from  a  rupture 
with  Luther.  He  trembled  at  the  thought  that  distress- 
ing discussions  would  rend  asunder  the  little  company 
of  believers  forming  in  the  midst  of  effete  Christendom. 
Not  so  with  Luther.  He  did  not  hesitate  to  include 
Zwingle  in  the  ranks  of  those  enthusiasts  with  whom 
he  had  already  broken  so  many  lances.  He  did  not 
reflect  that  if  images  had  been  removed  from  the 
churches  of  Zurich,  it  had  been  done  legally,  and  by 

*  Diu  multumque  legit  scripta  Occam  coins  acumen  ante- 
ferebat  Thomse  et  Scoto.  (Melancth.  Vita  Luth.) 

Studien  und  Kritiken.    1839,  p.  69. 

^  Quod  morosior  est  (Carlstadius)  in  caeremoniis  non  feren- 
dis,  non  admodum  probo.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  369.) 

||  A  manducatione  cibi,  qui  ventrem  implet,  transik  ad 
verbi  manducatioaem,  quam  cibum  vocat  coslestem,  qui 
mundum  vivificet.  (Zw.  Opp.  iii.  p.  673.) 


t  Occam  und  Luther, 
f  1  Cor.  x.  17. 


public  authority.  Accustomed  to  the  forms  of  the 
German  principalities,  he  knew  but  little  of  the  man- 
ner of  proceeding  in  the  Swiss  republics  ;  and  he  de- 
clared against  the  grave  Swiss  divines,  just  as  he  had 
done  against  the  Muntzers  and  the  Carlstadts. 

Luther  having  put  forth  his  discourse  "  against  ce- 
lestial prophets,"  Zwingle's  resolution  was  taken;  and 
he  published,  almost  immediately  after,  his  Letter  IQ 
Albert,  and  his  Comment 'ary  on  true  and,  false  Religion, 
dedicated  to  Francis  I.  In  it  he  said,  "Since  Christ, 

the  sixth  of  John,  attributes  to  faith  the  power  of 
communicating  eternal  life,  and  uniting  the  believer  to 
him  in  the  most  intimate  of  all  unions,  what  more  can 
we  need  1  Why  should  we  think  that  he  would  after- 
wards attribute  that  efficacy  to  His  flesh,  when  He 
himself  declares  that  the  flesh  profiteth  nothing?  So 
far  as  the  suffering  death' for  us,  the  flesh  of  Christ  is 
of  unspeakable  benefit^  us,  for  it  saves  us  from  per- 
dition ;  but  as  being  eaten  by  us,  it  is  altogether  use- 


The  contest  began.  Pomeranus,  Luther's  friend, 
took  the  field,  and  attacked  the  Evangelist  of  Zurich 
somewhat  too  contemptuously.  Then  it  was  that 
CEcolampadius  began  to  blush  that  he  had  so  long 
struggled  with  his  doubts,  and  preached  doctrines 
which  were  already  giving  way  in  his  own  mind. 
Taking  courage,  he  wrote  from  Basle  to  Zwingle. 
"  The  dogma  of  the  '  real  presence'  is  the  fortress  and 
strong  hold  of  their  impiety  ;  so  long  as  they  cleave  to 
this  idol,  uone  can  overcome  them."  After  this  he, 
too,  entered  the  lists,  by  publishing  a  tract  on  the  im- 
port of  the  Lord's  word,  "  This  is  my  body."* 

The  bare  fact,  that  CEcolampadius  had  joined  the 
Reformer  of  Zurich,  excited  an  immense  sensation, 
not  only  at  Basle,  but  throughout  all  Germany. 
Luther  was  deeply  affected  by  it.  Brentz,  Schnepff, 
and  twelve  other  ministers  in  Suabia,  to  whom  CEco- 
lampadius had  dedicated  his  tract,  and  who  had  almost 
all  been  disciples  under,  him  testified  the  most  lively 
sorrow.  In  taking  up  the  pen  to  answer  him,  Brentz 
said,  "  Even  at  this  moment,  when  I  am  separating 
from  him  for  just  reasons,  1  honour  and  admire  him  as 
much  as  it  is  possible  to  do.  The  tie  of  love  is  not 
severed  because  we  differ  in  judgment."  And  he 
proceeded,  in  concert  with  his  friends,  to  publish  the 
celebrated  Suabian  Syngramma,  in  which  he  replied 
to  the  arguments  of  CEcolampadius  with  boldness,  but 


with  respect  and  affection, 
authors  of  the  Syngramma 


If  an  emperor,"  say  the 
were  to  give  a  baton  or 

a  wand  to  a  judge,  saying,  'Take,  this  is  the  power  of 
judging  :' — the  wand,  no  doubt,  is  a  mere  sign  ;  but, 
the  words  being  added  thereto,  the  judge  has  not 
merely  the  sign  of  the  power,  he  has  the  power  itself." 

The  true  children  of  the  Reformation  might  admit 
this  illustration.  The  Syngramma  was  received  with 
acclamations,  and  its  authors  were  looked  upon  as 
the  defenders  of  the  truth.  Several  divines,  and  even 
some  laymen,  in  their  desire  to  share  in  their  glory, 
undertook  the  defence  of  the  doctrine  that  was  assailed, 
and  wrote  against  CEcolampadius. 

Then  it  was  Strasburg  interposed,  and  sought  to 
mediate  between  Switzerland  and  Germany.  Capito 
and  Bucer  were  disposed  for  peace  ;  and  in  their  view 
the  question  under  discussion  was  of  secondary  impor- 
tance. Accordingly,  stepping  between  the  two  parties, 
they  sent  George  Cassel,  one  of  their  colleagues,  to 
Luther,  to  conjure  him  not  to  snap  the  link  of  brother- 
hood which  united  him  with  the  Swiss  divines. 

No  where  does  Luther's  character  display  itself 
more  strikingly  than  in  this  controversy  on  the  Lord's 
Supper.  Never  did  it  more  clearly  appear  with  what 

*  He  retained  the  usual  signification  of  the  word  is,  but  he 
understood,  by  body,  a  sign  of  the  body. 


STRUGGLES  OF  THE  REFORMATION— TUMULT  IN  THE  TOCKENBURG.    315 


firmness  he  maintained  the  convictions  he  believed  to 
be  those  of  aChristain — with  what  faithfulness  he  es- 
tablished them  on  the  authority  of  Scripture  alone,  his 
sagacity  in  defending  them,  and  his  animated,  eloquent, 
and  often  overpowering  argumentation.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  never  was  there  a  more  abundant  exhibi- 
tion of  the  obstinacy  with  which  he  brought  up  every 
argument  for  his  own  opinion,  the  little  attention  he 
gave  to  his  opponents'  reasoning,  and  the  uncharitable 
haste  with  which  he  attributed  their  errors  to  the  wick- 
edness of  their  hearts,  and  the  machinations  of  the 
devil.  To  the  mediator  of  Strasburg,  he  said,  "  Either 
the  one  party  or  the  other — either  the  Swiss  or  we, 
must  be  ministers  of  Satan." 

Such  were  what  Capito  termed  "  the  furies  of  the 
Saxon  Orestes  ;"  and  these  furies  were  succeeded  by 
exhaustion.  Luther's  health  suffered.  One  day  he 
fainted  in  the  arms  of  his  wife  and  friends  ;  and  for  a 
whole  week,  he  was  as  if  "  in  death  and  hell."*  He 
had  lost  Jesus  Christ,  he  said,  and  was  driven  hither 
and  thither  by  tempests  of  despair.  The  world  was 
about  to  pass  away,  and  prodigies  announced  that  the 
last  day  was  at  hand. 

But  these  divisions  among  the  friends  of  the  Re- 
formation were  to  have  after  consequences  yet  more 
to  be  deplored.  The  Romish  divines  in  Switzerland 
especially  boasted  of  being  able  to  oppose  Luther  to 
Zwingle.  And  yet,  if— now  that  three  centuries  have 
passed  away,  the  recollection  of  these  divisions  should 
teach  Evangelical  Christians  the  precious  lesson  of 
Unity  in  diversity,  and  love  in  liberty,  they  will  not 
have  happened  in  vain.  Even  at  the  time,  the  Re- 
formers, by  thus  opposing  one  another,  proved  that 
they  were  not  governed  by  blind  hatred  of  Rome,  but 
that  Truth  was  the  great  object  of  their  hearts.  It 
must  be  admitted  that  there  is  something  generous 
iu  such  conduct ;  and  its  disinterestedness  did  not  fail 
to  produce  some  fruit,  and  extort  from  enemies  them- 
selves a  tribute  of  interest  and  esteem. 

But  we  may  go  farther,  and  here  again  we  discern 
the  Sovereign  hand  which  governs  all  events,  and  al- 
lows nothing  to  happen  but  what  makes  part  of  its  own 
wise  plan.  Notwithstanding  his  opposition  to  the  Pa- 
pacy, Luther  had  a  strong  conservative  instinct.  Zwin- 
gle, on  the  contrary,  was  predisposed  to  radical  re- 
forms. Both  these  divergent  tendencies  were  needed. 
If  Luther  and  his  followers  had  been  alone  in  the  work, 
it  would  have  stopped  short  in  its  progress  ;  and  the 
principle  of  Reformation  would  not  have  wrought  its 
destined  effect?  If,  on  the  other  hand,  Zwingle  had 
been  alone,  the  thread  would  have  been  snapped  too 
abruptly,  and  the  Reformation  would  have  found  itself 
isolated  from  the  ages  which  had  gone  before. 

These  two  tendencies,  which,  on  a  superficial  view, 
might  se^m  present  only  to  conflict  together,  were,  on 
the  contrary,  ordained  to  be  the  complement  of  each 
other,  and  now  that  three  centuries  have  passed  away/ 
we  can  say  that  they  have  fulfilled  their  mission. 

Thus,  on  all  sides,  the  Reformation  had  to  ci^oun- 
ter  resistance  ;  and  after  combating  the  r£l-lonalist 
philosophy  of  Erasmus,  and  the  fanatical  enthusiasm 
of  the  Anabaptists,  it  had,  in  addition,  *>  settle  mat- 
ters at  home.  But  its  great  and  laat»ig  struggle  was 
against  the  Papacy  ;  and  the  ass?^t,  commenced  in 
the  cities  of  the  plain,  was  now  carried  to  the  most 
distant  mountains. 

The  summits  of  TockenHrg  had  heard  the  sound  of 
the  Gospel,  and  three  ecclesiastics  were  prosecut- 
ed, by  order  of  the  Mshop,  a8  tainted  with  heresy. 
44  Only  convince  wty  ihe  word  of  God,"  said  Militus 
Boring,  and  Faiw,  "  and  we  will  humble  ourselves,  not 
only  before  th<J  chapter,  but  before  the  very  least  of 

»  In  mwrte  ct ID  fo5orao  jactatus.    (L.  Epp.  iii.  p.  132.) 


the  brethren  of  Jesus  Christ.     Otherwise,  we  will  obey 
no  one ;  not  even  the  greatest  among  men."* 

The  genuine  spirit  of  Zwingle  and  of  the  Reforma- 
tion speaks  out  in  these  words.  It  was  not  long  be- 
fore a  new  incident  occurred  to  inflame  the  minds  of 
the  mountaneers.  A  meeting  of  the  people  look  place 
on  St.  Catharine's  day  ;  the  townsmen  gathered  in 
groups,  and  two  men  of  Schwitz,  whose  business  had 
called  them  to  the  Tockenburg,  were  seated  together 
at  one  of  the  tables.  They  entered  into  conversation  : 
"  Ulric  Zwingle,"  exclaimed  one  of  them,  "  is  a  heretic 
and  a  robber."  The  Secretary,  Steiger,  defended  the 
Reformation.  Their  loud  voices  attracted  the  attention 
of  the  meeting.  George  Bruggman,  uncle  to  Zwingle, 
who  was  seated  at  an  adjoining  table,  angrily  left  his 
seat,  exclaiming,  "  Surely  they  are  speaking  of  Mas- 
ter Ulric ;"  on  which  the  guests  all  rose  up  and  fol- 
lowed, apprehending  a  disturbance. t  The  tumult  in- 
creased ;  the  baliff  hastily  collected  the  Town-council 
in  the  open  street,  and  Bruggman  was  requested,  for 
the  sake  of  peace,  to  content  himself  with  saying,  "  If 
you  do  not  retract  your  words,  it  is  yourselves  who  are 
liars  and  thieves."  "  Recollect  what  you  have  just 
said,"  answered  the  men  of  Schwitz,  "  we  will  not  for- 
get it."  This  said,  they  mounted  their  horses,  and  set 
forward  at  full  speed  for  Schwitz.* 

The  government  of  Schwitz  addressed  to  the  inha- 
bitants of  the  Tockenburg,  a  letter,  which  spread  ter- 
ror wherever  it  came.  "  Stand  firm  and  fear  nothing,  "$ 
wrote  Zwingle  to  the  Council  of  his  native  place  : 
"  Let  not  the  lies  they  circulate  concerning  me  disturb 
you.  There  is  no  brawler  but  has  the  power  to  call 
me  heretic  ;  but  do  you  avoid  all  insulting  language, 
tumults,  excesses,  and  mercenary  war.  Relieve  the 
poor  ;  espouse  the  cause  of  the  oppressed  ;  and  what- 
ever insults  may  be  heaped  upon  you,  hold  fast  your 
confidence  in  Almighty  God."|| 

Zwingle's  exhortations  had  the  desired  effect.  The 
Council  were  still  hesitating  ;  but  the  people  gather- 
ing together  in  their  several  parishes,  unanimously  re- 
solved that  the  Mass  should  be  abolished,  and  the  word 
of  God  adhered  to  T 

The  progress  of  the  work  was  not  less  marked  in 
Rhetia,  from  whence  Sala/idronius  had  been  compelled 
to  take  his  departure,  but  where  Comander  was 
preaching  with  much  boldness.  It  is  true  that  the  Ana- 
baptists,°by  their  fanatical  preachings  in  the  country 
of  the  GrJsons,  Aad  at  first  been  a  great  hinderance  to 
the  progress  o^the  Reformation.  The  people  had  split 
into  three  parties.  Some  had  embraced  the  doctrines 
of  those  pretended  prophets  :  others  in  silent  astonish- 
ment meditated  with  anxiety  on  the  schism  that  had 
declare^  itself.  And,  lastly,  the  partisans  of  Rome  were 
loud  ;n  their  exultations.** 

A  meeting  was  held  at  Ilantz,  in  the  Grison  league, 
Kit  the  purpose  of  a  discussion.  The  supporters  of 
the  Papacy,  on  one  hand,  the  favourers  of  the  Refor- 
mation on  the  other,  collected  their  forces.  The  bishop's 
vicar  at  first  laboured  to  avoid  the  dispute.  "  Such 
disputations  are  attended  with  considerable  expenses," 
said  he  ;  "I  am  ready  to  put  down  ten  thousand  florins, 

*  Ne  potentissimo  quidem,  sed  soli  Deo  ejusquc  verbo.  (Zw 
Epp.  p.  370.) 

f  Totumque  convivium  sequi,  grandem  conflictum  ti- 
mentes.  (Ibid.  p.  371.) 

t  Auf  solches,  ritten  sic  wieder  heim.     (Ibid.  p.  374.) 

^Macti  animo  este  et  interriti.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  351.) 

||  Verbis  diris  abstinete  .  .  .  opem  ferte  egenis  .  .  .  spem 
certissimam  in  Deo  reponatis  omnipotente.     (Ibid.)     Either, 
the  date  of  one  of  the  letters,  14th  and  23d  of  1624,  must  be  a 
mistake,  or  one  letter  of  Zwingle  to  his  fellow-countrymen 
of  the  Tockenbnrg  must  be  lost. 

1T  Parochise  uno  consensu  statuerunt  in  vcrbo  Dei  manero 
(Zw.  Epp.  p.  423.) 

»»  Pars  tertia  papistarum  est  in  immensum  gloriantium  d« 
schismate  inter  nos  facto.  (Ibid.  p.  400.) 


316 


COMANDER'S  DEFENCE— DOCTRINE  OF  THE  SACRAMENT. 


iu  order  to  defray  them,  but  I  expect  the  opposite  par- 
ty to  do  as  much."  "  If  the  bishop  has  ten  thousand 
florins  at  his  disposal,"  exclaimed  the  rough  voice  of 
a  countryman  in  the  crowd,  "  it  is  from  us  he  has  ex- 
torted them  ;  to  give  such  poor  priests  as  much  more 
would  be  a  little  too  bad."  We  are  a  poor  set  of  peo- 
ple," said  Comander,  the  pastor  of  Coria,  "  we  can 
scarcely  pay  for  our  soup,  where  then  can  we  raise  ten 
thousand  florins."*  Every  one  laughed  at  this  strata- 
gem, and  the  business  proceeded. 

Among  tnose  present  were  Sebastian  Hoffmeister 
and  James  Amman,  of  Zurich.  They  held  in  their 
hands  the  Holy  Scriptures,  in  Hebrew  and  Greek. — 
The  bishop's  vicar  moved  that  strangers  be  desired  to 
withdraw.  Hoffmeister  understood  this  to  be  directed 
against  him.  "  We  have  come  provided,"  said  he, 
"  with  a  Hebrew  and  Greek  Bible,  in  order  that  none 
may,  in  any  way,  do  violence  to  the  Scripture.  How- 
ever, sooner  than  stand  in  the  way  of  the  conference,  we 
are  willing  to  retire."  "  Ah  !"  cried  the  curate  of  Dint- 
zen,  as  he  glanced  at  the  books  the  two  Zurichers  held  in 
their  hands,  "  if  the  Hebrew  and  Greek  languages  had 
never  obtained  entrance  into  our  country,  there  would  be 
fewer  heresies  among  us."t  "  St.  Jerome,"  observed 
another,  has  translated  the  Bible  for  us,  and  we  don't 
want  the  Jewish  books."  "  If  the  Zurichers  are 
excluded,"  said  the  banneret  of  Ilantz,  "  the  com- 
mune will  move  in  the  affair."  "  Well,"  replied  the 
others,  "  let  them  listen,  but  let  them  be  silent."  The 
Zurichers  were  accordingly  allowed  to  remain,  and 
their  Bible  with  them. 

Comander,  rising  in  his  place,  read  from  the  first  of 
his  published  theses—"  The  Christian  Church  is  born 
of  the  word  of  God.  Its  duty  is  to  hold  fast  that 
word,  and  not  to  give  ear  to  any  other  voice."  He 
proceeded  to  establish  what  he  advanced  by  numerous 
passages  from  the  Scriptures.  "  He  went'  boldly  for- 
ward," says  an  eye-witness,  "  planting  his  foot,  at  every 
step,  with  the  firmness  of  an  ox's  tread. "t  "  This 
will  last  all  day,"  said  the  vicar. — "  When  he  is  at  ta- 
ble with  his  friends,  listening  to  those  who  play  the 
flute,  he  does  not  grudge  the  time,"$  remarked  Hof- 
meister. 

Jost  then,  one  of  the  spectators  left  his  seat,  and 
elbowing  his  passage  through  the  crowd,  forced  his 
way  up  to  Comander,  waving  h'«  arms,  scowling  on 
the  Reformer,  and  knitting  his  brows.  He  seemed 
like  one  beside  himself ;  and  as  he  basiled  up  to  Co- 
mander, many  thought  he  was  going  to  strike  him.  II 
He  was  a  schoolmaster  of  Coira.  "  I  We  written 
down  various  ques'«ions  for  you  to  answer,"  s^id  he  to 
Comander  :  "  answer  them  directly."  "  I  stand  here," 
said  the  Reformer  of  the  Grisons, "  to  defend  my  inch- 
ing. Do  you  attack  it,  and  I  will  answer  you  ;  or  if 
not,  go  back  to  your  place.  I  will  reply  to  you  wi,en 
I  have  done."  The  Schoolmaster  deliberated  for  ai 
instant.  "  Well,"  said  he,  at  last — and  returned  to  his 
seat. 

It  was  proposed  to  proceed  to  consider  the  doctrine 
of  the  Sacrament,  The  abbot  of  St.  Luke's  declared 
that  it  was  not  without  awe  that  he  approached  such  a 
subject ;  and  the  vicar  devoutly  crossed  himself  ii 
fear. 

The  schoolmaster  of  Coira,  who  had  before  showec 

*  Sie  waren  gute  arme  Gesellen  mit  lehren  Seoklcn.  (Fiissl 
Beytr.  i.  p.  358.) 

t  Ware  die  Griechischivand  Hebraische  Sprache  nicht  in 
das  Land  gekommen.  (Ibid.  p.  360.) 

\  Satzte  den  Fuss  wie  em  milder  Ochs.  (Fiissl.  Beytr.  i 
p.  868.) 

fc  Den  Pfeiffern  zuzuhoren,  die  .  ;  .  .  wie  den  Fiirsten  ho- 
flerten.  (Ibid.) 

H  Blintzete  mit  den  Augen  rumpfete  die  Stirne.  (Fiissl 
Beytr.  i.  p.  363.) 


lis  readiness  to  attack  Coma.nder,  with  much  volu- 
jility  began  to  argue  for  the  received  doctrine  of  the 
Sacrament,  grounding  what  he  said  on  the  words — 
'  This  i*  my  body."  "  My  dear  Berre,"  said  Coman- 
der to  him,  "  how  do  you  understand  these  words — 
'  John  is  Elias  1"  "I  understand,"  replied  Berre,  who 
saw  Cornander's  object  in  the  question,  "  I  understand 
hat  he  was  truly  and  essentially  Elias."  "  And  why 
;hen,"  continued  Comander,  '•  did  John  the  Baptist 
limself  say  to  the  Pharisees,  that  he  was  not  Elias  1'* 
The  schoolmaster  was  silent ;  and  at  last  ejaculated — 
>  It  is  true."  All  laughed — even  the  friends  who  had 
rged  him  to  speak. 

The  abbot  of  Saint  Luke's  spoke  at  much  length  on 
he  Supper ;  and  the  conference  was  finally  closed. 
Seven  priests  embraced  the  Gospel.  The  most  per- 
ect  religious  liberty  was  proclaimed :  and  in  several 
of  the  churches  the  Romish  worship  was  abolished. 
'  Christ,"  to  use  the  words  of  Salandronius,  "  grew 
up  everywhere  in  the  mountains,  like  the  tender  grass 
>f  the  spring,  and  his  ministers  were  like  living  foun- 
ains,  watering  those  Alpine  pastures."* 

The  Reformation  was  advancing,  with  yet  more 
'apid  strides,  in  Zurich.  Dominicans,  Augustines, 
Capuchins,  so  long  opposed  to  each  other,  were  reduced 
o  the  necessity  of  living  together ; — an  anticipated 
purgatory  for  these  poor  monks.  In  place  of  those 
degenerated  institutions  were  founded  schools,  an  hos- 
>ital,  a  theological  seminary.  Learning  and  charity 
everywhere  took  the  place  of  sloth  and  selfishness. 

These  triumphs  of  the  Reformation  could  not  escape 
notice.  The  monks,  the  priests,  and  their  prelates, 
not  knowing  how  to  move,  everywhere  felt  that  the 
ground  was  passing  from  under  their  feet ;  and  that 
,he  Church  was  on  the  point  of  sinking  under  its  unpre- 
cedented dangers.  The  oligarchs  of  the  cantons, — 
the  hired  supporters  of  foreign  capitulations,  perceived 
here  was  no  time  to  be  lost,  if  they  wished  to  pre- 
serve their  own  privileges;  and  at  the  moment  when 
he  Church,  in  her  terror,  was  sinking  into  the  earth, 
they  again  tendered  her  the  support  of  their  arms  bris- 
tling with  steel.  A  John  Faber  was  reinforced  by  a 
Stein  or  John  Hug  of  Lucerne,  and  the  civil  authority 
came  forward  to  assist  that  power  of  the  hierarchy 
which  opens  his  mouth  to  blaspheme,  and  makes  war 
against  the  saints. t 

Public  opinon  had  for  a  long  while  demanded  a  con- 
ference. No  other  way  appeared  of  quelling  the  peo- 
ple $  "  Only  convince  us  from  the  Scriptures,"  said 
the  Council  of  Zurich  to  the  Diet,  "  and  we  will  fall 
in  with  your  desires."  "  The  Zurichers,"  said  the 
people,  "  have  given  you  their  promise ;  if  you  are- 
able  to  refute  them  from  the  Scrpitures,  why  not  do 
it?  And  if  not  able,  why  not  yourselves  conform  to 
the  Bible  ?" 

The  conferences  at  Zurich  had  had  a  mighty  influ- 
*nce ;  it  seemed  politic  to  oppose  to  them  a  conference 
he'iii  in  a  city  in  the  interest  of  Rome ;  taking  at  the 
same  *ime  a\l  necessary  precautions  to  secure  the  vic- 
tory to  &e  Pope's  party. 

It  is  truo  that  the  same  party  had  declared  such 
discussions  uiJawful, — but  a  door  of  evasion  was  found 
to  escape  that  fcfficulty  :  for,  said  they,  all  that  it  is 
proposed  to  do  is  u  declare  and  condemn  the  pestilent 
doctrine  of  Zwingle.s  Th\s  difficulty  obviated,  they 
looked  about  them  for  ,.  stur<}y  disputant,  and  Doctor 
Eck  offered  himself.  H*  had  no  fear  of  the  issue. 

*  Vita,  moribut  et  doctrina  herbes^Qti  christo  apud  Rho- 
tos  fons  irrigans.  (Zw.  Ep.p.  p.  485.) 

fRev.  xviii. 

{  Dassder  groein  man,  one  eine  offne  deputation,  nitt  xii 
stillon  was.  {.Bulling,  chr.  i.  p.  331.) 

^  Diet  of  Lucerne,  13th  of  March,  16-2&. 


DECISION  OF  THE  DIET— ZWINGLE  IN  DANGER— THE  DISPUTANTS  AT  BADEN.  317 


"  Zwingle,  no  doubt,  has  more  knowledge  of  cows  than 
of  books,"t  observed  he,  as  Hofmeister  reports. 

The  grand  Council  of  Zurich  despatched  a  safe-con 
duct  for  Eck  to  repair  direct  to  Zurich  ;  but  Eck 
answered,  that  he  would  await  the  answer  of  the  Con 
federation,  Zwingle,  on  this,  proposed  to  dispute  a 
St.  Gall,  or  at  Schaffhausen,  but  the  Council,  ground 
ing  its  decision  on  an  article  in  the  federal  compact 
which  provided  that  any  person  accused  of  misdemea- 
nor should  be  tried  in  the  place  of  his  abode,  enjoined 
Zwingle  to  retract  his  offer. 

The  Diet  at  length  came  to  the  decision  that  a 
conference  should  take  place  at  Baden,  and  appointed 
the  16th  of  May,  1526.  This  meeting  promised 
important  consquences ;  for  it  was  the  result  and  seal 
of  that  alliance  that  had  just  been  concluded  between 
the  power  of  the  Church  and  the  aristocrats  of  the 
Confederation.  "  See,"  said  Zwingle  to  Vadian, 
"  what  these  oligarchs  and  Fabert  arc  daring  enough  to 
attempt." 

Accordingly,  the  decision  to  be  expected  from  the 
Diet  was  a  question  of  deep  interest  in  Switzerland. 
None  could  doubt  that  a  conference  held  under  such 
auspices  would  be  anything  but  auspicious  to  the  Re- 
formation. Were  not  the  five  cantons  most  devoted 
to  the  Pope's  views  paramount  in  influence  in  Baden  ? 
Had  they  not  already  condemned  Zwingle's  doctrine, 
and  pursued  it  with  fire  and  sword  1  At  Lucerne,  had 
he  not  been  burnt  in  effigy  with  every  expression  of 
contempt  ?  At  Friburg,  had  not  his  writings  been  con- 
signed to  the  flames  1  Throughout  the  five  cantons, 
was  not  his  death  demanded  by  popular  clamour  1 
The  cantons  that  exercised  a  sort  of  suzerainty  in 
Baden,  had  they  not  declared  that  Zwingle  should  be 
seized  if  he  set  his  foot  on  any  part  of  their  territory  It- 
Had  not  Uberlinger,  one  of  their  chiefs,  declared  that 
he  only  wished  he  had  him  in  his  power  that  he  might 
hang  him,  though  he  should  be  called  an  executioner 
as  long  as  he  lived  1()  And  Doctor  Eck  himself,  had 
he  not  for  years  past  called  for  fire  and  sword  as  the 
only  methods  to  be  resorted  to  against  heretics  1 — 
What  then  must  bo  the  end  of  this  conference,  and 
what  result  can  it  have  but  the  death  of  the  Reformer! 

Such  were  the  fears  that  agitated  the  commission 
appointed  at  Zurich,  to  examine  into  the  matter. 
Zwingle,  beholding  their  agitation,  rose,  and  said, 
"  You  know  what  happened  at  Baden  to  the  valiant 
men  of  Stammheim,  and  how  the  blood  of  the  Wirths 
stained  the  scaffold — and  yet  we  are  summoned  to 
the  very  place  of  their  execution  !  Let  Zurich,  Berne. 
Saint  Gall,  or,  if  they  will,  Basle,  Constance,  or 
Schaffhausen,  be  chosen  for  the  conference  ;  let  it  be 
agreed  that  nono  but  essential  points  shall  be  discussed, 
that  the  word  of  God  shall  be  the  only  standard  of 
authority  which  nothing  shall  be  allowed  to  supersede, 
and  then  I  am  ready  to  come  forward.  "II 

Meanwhile,  fanaticism  was  already  aroused  and  was 
striking  down  her  victims.  On  the  10th  of  May,  1526, 
that  is,  about  a  week  before  the  discussion  at  Baden, 
a  consistory,  headed  by  the  same  Faber  who  chal- 
lenged Zwingle,  condemned  to  the  flames,  as  a  heretic, 
an  evangelical  minister  named  John  Hugle,  pastor  of 
Lindau,1T  who  sang  the  Te  Deum  while  walking  to  the 

*  Er  habe  wohl  raehr  Kiihe  gemolken  als  Biicher  gelescn. 
(Zw.  Opp.  ii.  p.  405.) 

t  Vide  nuncquid  audeant  oligarch!  atque  Faber.  (Zw.  Epp. 
p.  484 ) 

t  Zwingli  in  ihrem  Gebriet,  wo  er  betreten  werde,  gefan- 


gen  /.u  nehmen.    (Zw.  Opp  ii.  p.  422.) 

^  Da  wollte  er  gem  all 
warden.    (Ibid.  p.  464) 


.  .  .  .    .       . 

^  Da  wollte  er  gem  all  sein  Lebtag  ein  Henker  genannt 


.  .    . 

U  Wellend  wir  ganz  geneigt  syn  ze  erschynen.  (Ibid,  p 
423.) 

IT  Hunc  hominem  haereticum  damnamus,  projicimus  ct 
conculcamus.  (Hotting.  Helv.  K.  Gesch.  iii.  p.  300.) 


place  of  execution.  At  the  same  time,  another  mini- 
ster, named  Peter  Spengler,  was  drowned  at  Friburg, 
by  order  of  the  bishop  of  Constance. 

Gloomy  tidings  reached  Zwingle  from  all  sides. 
His  brother-in-law,  Leonard  Tremp,  wrote  to  him  from 
Berne :  "  I  conjure  you,  as  you  value  your  life,  not  to 
repair  to  Baden.  I  know  that  they  will  not  respect 
your  safe-conduct."* 

It  was  confidently  asserted  that  a  project  had  been 
formed  to  seize,  gag,  and  throw  him  into  a  boat  which 
would  carry  him  off  to  some  secret  place. t  Taking 
into  consideration  these  threats  of  danger  and  death, 
the  council  of  Zurich  resolved  that  Zwingle  should  not 
go  to  Baden. $ 

The  day  for  the  discussion  being  fixed  for  the  19th 
of  May,  the  disputants  and  representatives  of  the 
cantons  and  bishops  slowly  collected.  First,  on  the 
side  of  the  Roman  Catholics,  appeared  the  pompous 
and  boastful  Eck  ;  on  the  Protestant  side,  the  modest 
and  gentle  CEcolampadius.  The  latter  was  fully  sen- 
sible of  the  perils  attending  this  discussion :  "  Long 
had  he  hesitated,"  says  an  ancient  historian,  "  like  a 
timid  stag,  worried  by  furious  dogs  ;"  at  length  he  de- 
cided on  proceeding  to  Baden  ;  first  making  this  so- 
lemn protestation — "  I  recognise  no  other  rule  of  judg- 
ment than  the  word  of  God."  He  had,  at  first,  much 
wished  that  Zwingle  should  share  his  perils  ;$  but  he 
soon  saw  reason  to  believe,  that  if  the  intrepid  doctor 
had  shown  himself  in  that  fanatical  city,  the  anger  of 
the  Roman  Catholics,  kindling  at  the  sight  of  him, 
would  have  involved  them  both  in  destruction. 

The  first  step  was  to  determine  the  laws  which 
should  regulate  the  controversy.  Eck  proposed  that 
the  deputies  of  the  Forest  Cantons  should  be  authorized 
to  pronounce  the  final  judgment — a  proposal  which,  if 
it  had  been  adopted,  would  have  decided  beforehand 
the  condemnation  of  the  reformed  doctrines.  Thomas 
Plater,  who  had  come  from  Zurich  to  attend  the  con- 
ference, was  despatched  by  CEcolampadius  to  ask 
Zwingle's  advice.  Arriving  at  night,  he  was  with  dif- 
ficulty admitted  into  the  Reformer's  house.  Zwingle, 
waking  up,  and  rubbing  his  eyes,  exclaimed,  "  You  are 
an  unseasonable  visitant — what  news  do  you  bring  ? 
Por  these  six  weeks  past,  I  have  had  no  rest ;  thanks 
to  this  dispute."!!  Plater  stated  what  Eck  required. 
And  how,"  replied  Zwingle,  "can  those  peasants  be 
made  to  understand  such  matters  ?  they  would  be  much 
more  at  home  in  milking  their  cows."1T 

On  the  2 1st  of  May,  the  conference  began.  Eck 
and  Faber,  accompanied  by  prelates,  magistrates,  and 
doctors,  robed  in  damask  and  silk,  and  bedizened  with 
rings,  chains,  and  crosses,**  repaired  to  the  church. 
Eck  haughtily  ascended  a  pulpit  superbly  decorated, 
while  the  humble  CEcolampadius,  meanly  clad,  sat  fac- 
ng  his  adversary,  upon  a  rudely-constructed  platform. 
4  During  the  whole  time  the  conference  lasted,"  says 
the  chronicler,  Bullinger,  "  Eck  and  his  party  were 
odged  in  the  parsonage  house  of  Baden,  faring  sump- 
tuously, living  gaily  and  disorderly,  drinking  freely  the 
wine  with  which  they  were  supplied  by  the  abbot  of 
Wettingen.tf  Eck,  it  was  said,  takes  the  baths  at 
Baden,  but  it  is  in  wine  that  he  bathes.  The  Refor- 

*  Caveatis  per  caput  vettrum.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  483.) 

J  Navigio  captum,  ore  mox  obturato,  clam  fuisse  dcportan- 
dum.  (Osw.  Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 

{  Zwinglium  Senatus  Tigurinus  Badenam  dimittere  rccus 
avit.  (Ibid.) 

§  Si  periclitaberis,  periclitabimuromnes  tucum.  (Zw.  Epp. 
p.  312.) 

||  Ich  ben  in  6  Wochen  nie  in  das  Beth  Kommen.  (Plater* 
Leben.p.263) 

1T  8ie  verstunden  sich  bas  atif  Kuh  malken.    (Ibid.) 

•»  Mit  Syden.  Damast  und  Sammet  bekleydet.    (Bull.  Chr. 

p.  351.) 

ft  Verbruchten  vil  wyn.    (Ibid.) 


. 


318 


ECK  AND  (ECOLAMPADIUS— ZWINGLE'S  SHARE  IN  THE  CONTEST. 


mers,  on  the  contrary,  made  but  a  sorry  appearance,  anc 
were  scoffed  at  as  a  troop  of  mendicants.  Their  man- 
ner of  life  afforded  a  striking  contrast  to  that  of  the 
Pope's  champions.  The  landlord  of  the  Pike,  the  inr 
at  which  CEcolampadius  lodged,  curious  to  see  how  the 
latter  spent  his  time  in  his  room,  reported,  that  when- 
ever he  looked  in  on  him,  he  found  him  either  reading 
or  praying.  It  must  be  confessed,  said  he,  that  he  is 
a  very  pious  heretic." 

The  discussion  lasted  eighteen  days  ;  and  every 
morning  the  clergy  of  Baden  went  in  solemn  proces- 
sion, chanting  litanies,  in  order  to  insure  victory. 
Eck  was  the  only  one  who  spoke  in  defence  of  the 
Romish  doctrines.  He  was  at  Baden  exactly  what 
he  was  at  Leipsic,  with  the  same  German  twang,  the 
same  broad  shoulders  and  sonorous  voice,  reminding 
one  of  a  town-crier,  and,  in  appearance,  more  like  a 
butcher  than  a  divine.  He  was  vehement  in  disputing, 
according  to  his  usual  custom  ;  trying  to  wound  his 
opponents  by  insulting  language,  and  even  now  and 
then  breaking  out  in  an  oalh.*  The  president  never 
called  him  to  order — 

Eck  stamps  his  feet,  and  claps  his  hands, 

He  raves,  he  swears,  he  scolds ; 
M  I  do,"  cries  he,  "  what  Rome  commands, 

And  teach  whate'er  she  holds."! 

CEcolampadius,  on  the  contrary,  with  his  serene 
countenance,  his  noble  and  patriarchal  air,  spoke  with 
so  much  mildness,  but  at  the  same  time  with  so  much 
ability  and  courage,  that  eveu  his  antagonists,  affected 
and  impressed,  whispered  to  one  another,  "  Oh,  that 
the  tall,  sallow  man  were  on  our  side  !"{  Sometimes, 
indeed,  he  was  moved  at  beholding  the  hatred  and  vio- 
lence of  his  auditors  :  "  Oh,"  said  he,  with  what  im- 
patience do  they  listen  to  me ;  but  God  will  not  forego 
His  glory,  and  it  is  that  only  that  we  seek."$ 

CEcolampadius,  having  combated  Eck's  first  thesis, 
which  turned  on  the  real  presence,  Haller,  who  had 
reached  Baden  after  the  commencement  of  the  discus- 
sion, entered  the  lists  against  the  second.  Little  used  to 
such  discussions,  constitutionally  timid,  fettered  by  the 
instructions  of  his  government,  and  embarrassed  by  the 
presence  of  its  chief  magistrate,  Gaspard  Mullinen,  a  bit- 
ter enemy  of  the  Reformation,  Haller  had  none  of  the 
confident  bearing  of  his  antagonist ;  but  he  had  more 
real  strength.  When  Haller  had  concluded,  CEcolam- 
padius again  entered  the  lists,  and  pressed  Eck  so  close- 
ly, that  the  latter  was  compelled  to  fall  back  upon  the 
custom  of  the  church.  "  In  our  Switzerland,"  answer- 
ed CEcolampadius,  "  custom  is  of  no  force  unless  it  be 
according  to  the  constitution  ;  now,  in  all  matters  of 
faith,  the  Bible  is  our  constitution." 

The  third  thesis,  regarding  invocation  of  saints ;  the 
fourth,  on  images ;  the  fifth,  on  purgatory,  were  suc- 
cessively discussed.  No  one  came  forward  to  dispute 
the  two  last  theses,  which  bore  reference  to  original 
sin  and  baptism. 

Zwingle  took  an  important  part  in  the  whole  of  the  dis- 
cussion. The  Catholic  party  had  appointed  four  secreta- 
ries, and  prohibited  all  other  persons  from  taking  notes 
on  pain  of  death.  H  Nevertheless,  a  student  from  the  Va- 
lais,  named  Jerome  Walsch,  gifted  with  a  retentive 

*  So  entwuscht  imm  ettwau  ein  Schiir.  (Bull.  Chr.  i.  p. 
881.) 

f  Egg  zablet  mit  fussen  und  henden 
Fing  an  schelken  und  schenden,  etc. 

(Contemporaneous  Poems  of  Nicholas  Manuel,  of  Berne.) 

\  O  were  der  lange  gal  man  uft'unser  syten.  (Bull.  Chr  i 
p.  353.) 

v}  Domino  suam  gloriam,  quam  salvam  cupimus  ne  utiquam 
desertuor.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  511.) 

||  Man  sollte  einem  ohne  aller  weiter  Urtheilen,  den  Kopf 
abhaueu.  (Thorn.  Plateri.  Lebens  Beschreib.  p.  262.) 


memory,  carefully  impressed  upon  his  mind  all  that  he 
heard,  and,  upon  leaving  the  assembly,  privately  com- 
mitted his  recollections  to  writing.  Thomas  Plater, 
and  Zirnmermann,  of  Winterthur,  carried  these  notes 
to  Zwingle  every  day,  as  also  letters  from  CEcolam- 
padius, and  brought  back  the  Reformer's  answers.  The 
gates  of  Baden  were  guarded  by  halberdiers,  and  it 
was  only  by  inventing  different  excuses  that  the  two 
messengers  could  evade  the  questions  of  the  soldiers, 
who  were  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  why  these  youths 
so  frequently  entered  and  quitted  the  city.*  Thus 
Zwingle,  though  absent  from  Baden  in  bodily  presence, 
was  with  them  in  spirit. 

He  advised  and  strengthened  his  friends,  and  refuted 
his  adversaries.  "  Zwingle,"  says  Oswald  Myconius, 
"  has  laboured  more  in  meditating  upon,  and  watching 
the  contest,  and  transmitting  his  advice  to  Baden,  than 
he  could  have  done  by  disputing  in  person  in  the 
midst  of  his  enemies."! 

During  the  whole  time  of  the  conference,  the  Roman 
Catholics  were  in  a  ferment,  publishing  abroad  the  re- 
port of  advantages  gained  by  them.  "  CEcolampadius," 
cried  they,  "  vanquished  by  Eck,  lies  prostrate  on  the 
field,  and  sues  for  quarter  ;t  the  pope's  authority  will 
be  everywhere  restored.  "$  These  statements  were 
industriously  circulated  throughout  the  cantons,  and  the 
many,  prompt  to  believe  every  rumour,  gave  credit  to 
these  Tauntings  of  the  partisans  of  Rome. 

The  discussion  being  concluded,  the  monk,  Murner, 
of  Lucerne,  nicknamed  the  "  tom-cat,"  came  forward, 
and  read  forty  articles  of  accusation  against  Zwingle. 
"  I  thought,"  said  ho,  "  that  the  dastard  would  appear 
and  answer  for  himself,  but  he  has  not  done  so :  I  arn 
therefore  justified  by  every  law,  both  human  and  di- 
vine, in  declaring  forty  times  over,  that  the  tyrant  of 
Zurich  and  all  his  partisans  are  rebels,  liars,  perjured 
persons,  adulterers,  infidels,  thieves,  robbers  of  temples, 
fit  only  for  the  gallows  ;  and  that  any  honest  man  must 
disgrace  himself  if  he  hold  any  intercourse  with  them, 
of  what  kind  soever."  Such  was  the  opprobrious  lan- 
guage which,  at  that  time,  was  honoured  with  the 
name  of  "  Christian  controversy,"  by  divines,  whom 
the  Church  of  Rome  herself  might  well  blush  to  ac- 
knowledge. 

Great  agitation  prevailed  at  Baden  :  the  general 
feeling  was,  that  the  Reformers  were  overcome,  not 
by  force  of  arguments,  but  by  power  of  lungs. ||  Only 
CEcolampadius  and  ten  of  his  friends  signed  a  protest 
against  the  theses  of  Eck,  while  they  were  adopted  by 
no  less  than  eighty  persons,  including  those  who  had 
presided  at  the  discussion,  and  all  the  monks  of  Wit- 
tengen.  Haller  had  left  Baden  before  the  termination 
of  the  conference. 

The  majority  of  the  diet  then  decreed,  that  as  Zwin- 
gle, the  leader  in  these  pernicious  doctrines,  refused  to 
appear,  and  as  the  ministers  who  had  come  to  Baden 
hardened  themselves  against  conviction,  both  the  one 
and  the  others  were  in  consequence  cast  out  from  the 
josom  of  the  church.^ 

When  I  was  asked,  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  7"  I  re- 
>lied,  "  I  am  carrying  chickens  to  sell  to  the  gentlemen  who 
are  come  to  the  baths  •," — the  chickens  were  given  me  at  Zu- 
rich, and  the  guards  could  not  understand  how  it  was  that 
*  always  got  them  so  fresh,  and  in  BO  short  a  time.  (Plater* 
utobiography.) 

t  Quam  laborasset  disputando  vel  inter  medios  hostes.  (Os. 
Hyc.  Vit.  Zw.)  See  the  various  writings  composed  by  Zwin- 
gle relative  to  the  Baden  conference.  (Opp.  ii.  p.  398,  520.) 

\  (Ecolampadins  victus  jacet  in  arena  prostratus  ab  Eccio, 
lerbam  porrexit  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  514  ) 

§  Spem  concipiunt  laetam  fore  ut  regnum  ipsorum  restitua- 
ur.  (Ibid,  p  513  ) 

||  Die  Evangelische  weren  wol  uberschryen,  nicht  abcr 
vberdisputiert  worden.  (Hotting.  Helv.  K.  Gesch.  iii.  p.  3-20.) 

f  Von  gemeiner  Klychen  ussgestosscn.  (Bull.  Chr.  pv 
355.) 


HALLER  AND  THE  COUNCIL  OF  BERNE— CONRAD  PELL1CAN. 


319 


But  this  celebrated  contest,  which  had  originated  in 
the  zeal  of  the  oligarchs  and  the  clergy,  was  yet  in  its 
effects  to  be  fatal  to  both.  Those  who  had  contended 
for  the  gospel,  returning  to  their  homes,  infused  into 
their  fellow-citizens  an  enthusiasm  for  the  cause  they 
had  defended  ;  and  Berne  and  Basle,  two  of  the  most 
influential  cantons  of  the  Helvetic  confederation,  be- 
gan thenceforth  to  fall  away  from  the  ranks  of  the 
papacy. 

It  was  to  be  expected  that  CEcolampadius  would  be 
the  first  to  suffer,  the  rather  as  he  was  not  a  native  of 
Switzerland  ;  arid  it  was  not  without  some  fear  that  he 
returned  to  Basle.  But  his  alarm  was  quickly  dissi- 
pated. His  gentle  words  had  sunk  deeply  into  those 
unprejudiced  minds  which  had  been  closed  against  the 
vociferations  of  Eck  ;  and  he  was  received  with  accla- 
mations by  all  men  of  piety.  His  advarsaries,  it  is 
true,  used  all  their  efforts  to  exclude  him  from  the  pul- 
pit, but  in  vain  ;  he  taught  and  preached  with  greater 
energy  than  before,  and  never  had  the  people  mani- 
fested a  more  ardent  thirst  for  the  word  of  the  Lord.* 

The  course  of  events  at  Berne  was  of  a  similar 
character.  The  conference  at  Baden,  which  it  had 
been  hoped  would  stifle  the  Reformation,  gave  to  it 
a  new  impulse  in  this  the  most  powerful  of  the  Swiss 
cantons.  No  sooner  had  Haller  arrived  in  the  capital, 
than  the  inferior  council  summoned  him  before  them, 
and  commanded  him  to  celebrate  mass.  Haller  asked 
leave  to  answer  before  the  Grand  council ;  and  the 
people  came  together,  thinking  it  behoved  them  to  de- 
fend their  pastor.  Haller,  in  alarm,  declared  that  he 
would  rather  quit  the  city  than  be  the  innocent  occa- 
sion of  disorders.  Upon  this,  tranquillity  being  restored, 
"  If,"  said  the  reformer,  "  I  am  required  to  perform 
mass,  I  must  resign  my  office  :  the  honour  of  God  and 
the  truth  of  his  holy  word  lie  nearer  to  my  heart  than 
any  care  what  *  I  shall  eat,  or  wherewithal  I  shall  be 
clothed.'  "  Haller  uttered  these  words  with  much 
emotion  ;  the  members  of  the  counsel  were  much  af- 
fected ;  even  some  of  his  opponents  were  moved  to 
tears,  t  Once  more  was  moderation  found  to  be 
strength.  To  meet,  in  some  measure,  the  require- 
ments of  Rome,  Haller  was  removed  from  his  office  of 
canon,  but  appointed  preacher.  His  most  violent  ene- 
mies, Lewis  and  Anthony  von  Diesbach,  and  Anthony 
von  Erlach,  indignant  at  this  decision,  immediately 
withdrew  from  the  council  and  the  city,  and  threw  up 
their  rank  as  citizens.  "  Berne  stumbled,"  said  Haller, 
"  but  she  has  risen  up  in  greater  strength  than  ever." 
This  firmness  of  the  Bernese  made  a  powerful  impres- 
sion in  Switzerland. t 

But  the  effects  of  the  conference  of  Baden  were  not 
confined  to  Berne  and  Basle.  While  these  events 
were  occurring  in  those  powerful  cities,  a  movement 
more  or  less  of  the  same  character  was  in  progress  in 
several  other  states  of  the  confederation.  The  preach- 
ers of  St.  Gall,  on  their  return  from  Baden,  proclaimed 
the  gospel. $  At  the  conclusion  of  a  public  meeting, 
tho  images  were  removed  from  the  parish  church  of 
St.  Lawrence,  and  the  inhabitants  parted  with  their 
costly  dresses,  jewels,  rings,  and  gold  chains,  that  they 
might  employ  the  money  in  works  of  charity.  The 
Reformation  did,  it  is  true,  strip  men  of  their  posses- 
sions, but  it  was  in  order  that  the  poor  might  be  cloth- 
ed ;  and  the  only  worldly  goods  it  claimed  the  surren- 
der of,  were  those  of  the  reformed  themselves.il 

*  Plebe  Verbi  Domini  admodum  sitiente.  (Zw.  Epp.  p. 
618.) 

j  Tillier,  Gesch.  v.  Bern.,  iii.  p.  242. 

t  Frofuit  hie  nobis  Bernates  tarn  dextre  in  servando  Berch- 
toldo  suo  egisse.  (Ecol.  ad.  Zw  Epp.  p.  519 ) 

^  San  Gatlenses  officiis  suis  restitutes.     (Z\v.  Epp.  p.  518.) 

||  Kostbare  Kleider,  Kleinodien.Ring,  Ketten,  etc.  freywillig 
verkauft.  (Hott.  iii.  p.  333.) 


At  Mulhausen  the  preaching  was  continued  with 
unwearied  boldness.  Thurgovia  and  the  Rhenish 
provinces  daily  drew  rearer  to  the  doctrine  held  in 
Zurich.  Immediately  after  the  conference,  Zurzach 
abolished  the  use  of  images  in  its  churches,  and  almost 
the  whole  district  of  Baden  received  the  gospel. 

Nothing  can  show  more  clearly  than  such  facts  as 
these  which  party  had  really  triumphed.  Hence  we 
find  Zwingle,  contemplating  what  was  passing  around 
him,  giving  thanks  to  God :  "  Manifold  are  their  at- 
tacks," said  he,  "but  the  Lord  is  above  all  their  threa-t- 
enings  and  all  their  violence ;  a  wonderful  unanimity 
in  behalf  of  the  gospel  prevails  in  the  city  and  canton 
of  Zurich — we  shall  overcome  all  things  by  the  prayer 
of  faith."*  Shortly  afterwards,  writing  to  Haller,  he 
expressed  himself  thus  :  "  Everything  here  below  fol- 
lows its  appointed  course  :  after  the  rude  northern 
blast  comes  the  gentle  breeze.  The  scorching  heat  of 
summer  is  succeeded  by  the  treasures  of  autumn.  And 
now,  after  stern  contests,  the  Creator  of  all  things, 
whom  we  serve,  has  opened  for  us  a  passage  into  the 
enemy's  camp.  We  are  at  last  permitted  to  receive 
among  us  the  Christian  doctrine,  that  dove  so  long  de- 
nied entrance,  but  which  has  never  ceased  to  watch 
for  the  hour  when  she  might  return.  Be  them  the 
Noah  to  receive  and  shelter  her." 

This  same  year  Zurich  made  an  important  acquisi- 
tion, Conrad  Pellican,  superior  of  the  Franciscan  con- 
vent at  Basle,  professor  of  theology,  when  only  twenty- 
four  years  of  age,  had,  through  the  interest  of  Zwingle, 
been  chosen  to  fill  the  office  of  Hebrew  professor  at 
Zurich.  On  his  arrival  he  said,  "  I  have  long  since  re- 
nounced the  pope,  and  desired  to  live  to  Christ."t 
Pellican's  critical  talents  rendered  him  one  of  the  most 
useful  labourers  in  the  great  work  of  the  Reformation. 

Early  in  1527,  Zurich,  still  excluded  from  the  diet 
by  the  Romish  cantons,  and  wishing  to  take  advantage 
of  the  more  favourable  disposition  manifested  by  some 
of  the  confederates,  convened  an  assembly  within  her 
own  walls.  It  was  attended  by  deputies  from  Berne, 
Basle,  Schaffhausen,  Appenzell,  and  St.  Gall.  "  We 
require,"  said  the  deputies  of  Zurich,  "  that  God's 
word,  which  alone  leads  us  to  Christ  crucified,  be  the 
one  thing  preached,  taught,  and  exalted.  We  re- 
nounce all  doctrines  of  men,  whatever  may  have  been 
the  custom  of  our  forefathers  ;  being  well  assured  that 
if  they  had  been  visited  by  this  divine  light  of  the 
word,  which  we  enjoy,  they  would  have  embraced  it 
with  more  reverence  than  we,  their  unworthy  descend- 
ants.'^ The  deputies  present  promised  to  take  into 
consideration  the  representations  made  by  their  breth- 
ren of  Zurich. 

Thus  the  breach  in  the  walls  of  Rome  was  every- 
day widened.  The  Baden  conference  it  was  hoped 
would  have  repaired  it ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  from  that 
time  forward  the  cantons  that  had  hitherto  been  only 
doubtful,  appeared  willing  to  make  common  cause 
with  Zurich.  The  Reformation  was  already  spreading 
among  the  inhabitants  of  the  plain,  and  beginning  to 
ascend  the  sides  of  the  mountains  ;  and  the  more  an- 
cient cantons,  which  had  been  as  the  cradle,  and  are 
still  the  citadel,  of  Switzerland— seemed  in  their  alpine 
inclosures,  alone  to  adhere  faithfully  to  the  religion  of 
their  fathers.  These  mountaineers,  constantly  ex- 
posed to  violent  storms,  avalanches,  and  overflowing 
torrents,  are  all  their  lives  obliged  to  struggle  against 

»  Fideli  enin  oratione  omaia  superabimus.    (Zw.  Epp.  p. 
519.) 
t  Jamdudum  papae  renuntiavi  et  Christo  vivere  concupivi. 

i'lviit  hoherem  Werth  und  mehr  Dankbarkeit  dann  wir 
angenommen.  (Zurich  Arclav.  Absch.  Sonntag  nach  Lichi. 
messe.) 


320 


ALLIANCE  WITH  AUSTRIA— FAREL  APPEARS. 


these  formidable  enemies,  and  to  sacrifice  everything 
for  the  preservation  of  the  pastures  where  their  flocks 
graze,  and  the  roofs  which  shelter  them  from  the  tem- 
pest, and  which,  at  any  moment,  may  be  swept  away 
by  an  inundation.  Hence  a  conservative  principle  is 
strikingly  developed  among  them,  and  has  been  trans- 
mitted from  generation  to  generation.  With  these 
children  of  the  mountains,  wisdom  consists  in  preserv- 
ing what  they  have  inherited  from  their  fathers. 

At  the  period  we  are  recording,  these  rude  Helve- 
tians struggled  against  the  Reformation  that  came  to 
change  their  faith  and  worship,  as  at  this  very  hour 
they  contend  against  the  roaring  waters  which  tumble 
from  their  snow-clad  hills,  or  against  those  modern 
notions  and  politics  which  have  established  themselves 
in  the  adjoining  cantons.  They  will  probably  be  the 
very  last  to  lay  down  their  arms  before  that  two-fold 
power  which  has  already  planted  its  standard  on  the 
adjacent  hills,  and  is  steadily  gaining  ground  upon 
these  conservative  communities. 

Accordingly,  these  cantons,  yet  more  irritated 
against  Berne  and  against  Zurich,  and  trembling  lest 
that  powerful  state  should  desert  their  interests,  as- 
sembled their  deputies  in  Berne,  itself,  eight  days  after 
the  conference  at  Zurich.  They  called  on  the  council 
to  deprive  the  innovating  teachers  of  their  office,  to 
proscribe  their  doctrines,  and  to  maintain  the  ancient 
and  true  Christian  faith,  as  confirmed  by  past  ages,  and 
sealed  by  the  blood  of  martyrs.  "  Convene  all  the 
bailiwicks  of  the  canton,"  added  they,  "  if  they  refuse 
to  do  this,  we  will  take  it  upon  ourselves."  The  Ber- 
nese were  irritated,  and  replied,  "  We  require  no  as- 
sistance in  the  directing  of  those  who  hold  authority 
under  us." 

This  answer  only  inflamed  the  anger  of  the  forest 
cantons  ;  and  those  very  cantons,  which  had  been  the 
cradle  of  the  political  liberty  of  Switzerland,  affrighted 
at  the  progress  of  religious  liberty,  began  to  seek  even 
foreign  alliances,  in  order  to  destroy  it.  In  opposing 
the  enemies  of  the  capitulations,  it  seemed  to  them 
reasonable  to  seek  the  aid  of  capitulations  ;  and  if  the 
oligarchs  of  Switzerland  were  not  sufficiently  power- 
ful, it  was  natural  to  have  recourse  to  the  princes,  their 
allies.  Austria,  who  had  found  it  impossible  to  main- 
tain her  own  authority  in  the  confederation,  was  ready 


to  interfere  to  strengthen  the  power  of  Rome.  Berne 
learned  with  terror  that  Ferdinand,  brother  of  Charles 
V.,  was  preparing  to  march  against  Zurich,  and  all 
those  who  took  part  with  the  Reformation.* 

Circumstances  were  becoming  more  trying.  A  suc- 
cession of  events,  more  or  less  adverse,  such  as  the 
excesses  of  the  Anabaptists,  the  disputes  with  Luther 
concerning  the  Lord's  Supper,  and  other  causes,  seem- 
ed to  have  compromised  the  prospects  of  the  Reforma- 
tion in  Switzerland.  The  conference  at  Baden  had 
disappointed  the  hopes  of  the  papists,  and  the  sword 
which  they  had  brandished  against  their  opponents 
had  been  shivered  in  their  hands  ;  but  their  animosity 
and  rage  did  but  increase,  and  they  began  to  prepare 
for  a  fresh  effort.  The  Imperial  power  was  in  motion  ; 
and  the  Austrian  bands,  which  had  been  compelled  to 
shameful  flight,  from  the  defiles  of  Morgarten  and  the 
heights  of  Sempach,  stood  ready  to  enter  Switzerland 
with  flying  banners,  to  confirm  the  tottering  authority 
of  Rome.  The  moment  was  critical  :  it  was  no  longer 
possible  to  halt  between  two  opinions  ;  to  be  "  neither 
clear  nor  muddy."  Berne,  and  other  cantons  which 
had  so  long  hesitated,  were  reduced  to  the  necessity 
of  decision,  either  to  return  without  loss  of  time  to  the 
papal  ranks,  or  to  take  their  stand  with  boldness  on  the 
side  of  Christ. 

Just  then  William  Farel,  a  Frenchman,  from  the 
mountains  of  Dauphiny,  communicated  a  powerful  im- 
pulse to  Switzerland,  decided  the  reformation  of  the 
western  cantons,  hitherto  sunk  in  a  profound  slumber, 
and  so  caused  the  balance  to  incline  in  favour  of  the 
new  doctrines  throughout  the  confederation.  Farel'a 
coming  resembled  the  arrival  of  those  fresh  troops, 
who,  just  when  the  battle  hangs  doubtfully,  appear 
upon  the  field,  throw  themselves  into  the  thick  of  the 
fight,  and  decide  the  victory.  He  led  the  way  in  Swit- 
zerland for  another  Frenchman,  whose  austere  faith 
and  commanding  genius  were  ordained  to  terminate 
the  Reformation,  and  render  the  work  complete.  In 
the  persons  of  these  distinguished  men,  France  took 
her  part  in  that  vast  commotion  which  agitated  Christ 
endom.  It  is  therefore  time  that  we  should  turn  our 
attention  to  France. 

•  Berne  a  Zurich,  le  lundi  apres  Wttricorde.   (Kirchoffi  B 
Haller,  p.  86.) 


9  if  I    ill 


BOOK  XII. 


THE  FRENCH.— 1500—1526. 


ONB  essential  character  of  Christianity  is,  its  Uni- 
versality. Very  different  in  this  respect  are  the  reli- 
gions of  particular  countries  that  men  have  invented. 
Adapting  themselves  to  this  or  that  nation,  and  the 
point  of  progress  which  it  has  reached,  they  hold  it 
fixed  and  motionless  at  that  point — or  if  from  any  ex- 
traordinary cause  the  people  are  carried  forward,  their 
religion  is  left  behind,  and  so  becomes  useless  to 
them. 

There  has  been  a  religion  of  Egypt — of  Greece — of 
Rome,  and  even  of  Judea.  Christianity  is  the  only 
religion  of  mankind. 

It  has  for  its  origin  in  man — sin  ;  and  this  is  a  cha- 
racter that  appertains  not  merely  to  one  race,  but 
which  is  the  inheritance  of  all  mankind.  Hence,  as 


meeting  the  highest  necessities  of  our  common  nature', 
the  gospel  is  received  as  from  God,  at  once  by  the 
most  barbarous  nations,  and  the  most  civilized  com- 
munities. Without  deifying  national  pecubarities, 
like  the  religion  of  antiquity,  it  nevertheless  does  not 
destroy  them,  as  modern  cosinopoHsm  aims  to  do.  It 
does  better,  for  it  sanctifies,  ennobles,  and  raises  them 
to  a  holy  oneness,  by  the  new  and  living  principle  it 
communicates  to  them. 

The  introduction  of  the  Christian  religion  into  the 
world  has  produced  an  incalculable  change  in  history. 
There  had  previously  been  only  a  history  of  nations — 
there  is  now  a  history  of  mankind  ;  and  the  idea  of  an 
education  of  human  nature  as  a  whole — an  education, 
the  work  of  Jesus  Christ  himself— is  become  like  a 


THE  REFORMATION  IN  FRANCE— PERSECUTION  OF  THE  VAUDOIS. 


821 


compass  for  the  historian,  the  key  of  history,  and  the 
hope  of  nations. 

But  the  effects  of  the  Christian  religion  are  seen  not 
merely  among  all  nations,  but  in  all  the  successive  pe- 
riods of  their  progress. 

When  it  first  appeared,  the  world  resembled  a  torch 
about  to  expire  in  darkness,  and  Christianity  called 
forth  anew  a  heavenly  flame. 

In  a  later  age,  the  barbarian  nations  had  rushed  upon 
the  Roman  territories,  carrying  havock  and  confusion 
whereever  they  came  ;  and  Christianity,  holding  up  the 
cross  against  the  desolating  torrent,  had  subdued,  by  its 
influence,  the  half-savage  children  of  the  north,  and 
moulded  society  anew. 

Yet  an  element  of  corruption  lay  hidden  in  the  re- 
ligion carried  by  devoted  missionaries  among  these 
rude  populations.  Their  faith  had  come  to  them 
almost  as  much  from  Rome  as  from  the  Bible.  Ere 
long  that  element  expanded  ;  man  everywhere  usurped 
the  place  of  God — the  distinguishing  character  of  the 
church  of  Rome;  and  a  revival  of  religion  became 
necessary.  This  Christianity  gave  to  man  in  the  age 
of  which  we  are  treating. 

The  progress  of  the  Reformation  in  the  countries 
we  have  hitherto  surveyed  has  shown  us  the  new 
teaching  rejecting  the  excesses  of  the  Anapaptists,  and 
the  newly  arisen  prophets  ;  but  it  is  the  shallows  of 
incredulity  which  it  especially  encountered  in  the 
country  to  which  we  are  now  to  turn  our  attention. 
Nowhere  had  bolder  protests  been  heard  against  the 
superstitions  and  abuses  of  the  church.  Nowhere 
had  there  been  a  more  striking  exhibition  of  that  love 
of  learning,  apart  from,  or  independent  of,  Christianity, 
which  often  leads  to  irreligion.  France  bore  within  it 
at  once  two  reformations — the  one  of  man,  the  other 
of  God.  "  Two  nations  were  in  her  womb,  and  two 
manner  of  people  were  to  be  separated  from  her 
bowels."* 

In  France  not  only  had  the  Reformation  to  combat 
incredulity  as  well  as  superstition,  it  found  a  third  an- 
tagonist which  it  had  not  encountered,  at  least  in  so 
much  strength,  among  the  Germanic  population,  and 
this  was  immorality.  Proflgacy  in  the  church  was 
great.  Debauchery  sat  upon  the  throne  of  Francis  the 
First  and  Catherine  de  Medicis ;  and  the  rigid  virtues 
of  the  reformers  provoked  the  anger  of  the  Sardanapa- 
luses.t  Wherever  it  came,  doubtless — but  especially 
in  France — the  Reformation  was  necessarily  not  only 
dogmatic  and  ecclesiastical,  but,  moreover,  moral. 
•  These  violent  opposing  influences,  which  the  Re- 
formation encountered  at  one  and  the  same  moment 
among  the  French  people,  gave  to  it  a  character  alto- 
gether peculiar.  Nowhere  did  it  so  often  have  its 
dwellings  in  dungeons,  or  bear  so  marked  a  resem- 
blance to  the  Christianity  of  the  first  ages  in  faith  and 
love,  and  in  the  number  of  its  martyrs.  If  in  those 
countries  of  which  we  have  hertofore  spoken,  the  Re- 
formation was  more  illustrated  by  its  triumphs,  in  those 
we  are  about  to  speak  of,  it  was  more  glorious  in  its 
reverses  !  If  elsewhere  it  might  point  to  more  thrones 
and  council-chambers,  here  it  could  appeal  to  more 
scaffolds  and  hill-side  meetings.  Whoever  knows  in 
what  consists  the  real  glory  of  Christianity  upon  earth, 
and  the  features  that  assimilate  it  to  its  author,  will 
study  with  a  deep  feeling  of  veneration  and  affection 
the  history,  often  marked  with  blood,  which  we  are 
now  to  recount. 

Of  those  who  have  afterwards  shone  on  the  stage  of 
life,  the  greater  number  have  been  born,  and  have 
grown  up,  in  the  provinces.  Paris  is  like  a  tree  which 

*  Gen.  xxv.  23. 

I  Sardanapalus  (Henry  II.)  inter  acorta.     (Calvini  Epp. 

Rr 


spreads  out  to  view  its  flowers  and  its  fruit,  but  of 
which  the  roots  draw  from  a  distance,  and  from  hidden 
depths  of  the  soil,  the  nutritive  juices  which  they  trans- 
form. The  Reformation  followed  this  law. 

The  Alps,  which  had  witnessed  the  rise  of  fearless 
Christian  men  in  every  canton,  and  almost  in  every 
valley  of  Switzerland,  were  destined  in  France  also  to 
shelter,  with  their  lengthened  shadows,  the  infancy  of 
some  of  the  earliest  Reformers.  For  ages  they  had 
preserved  their  treasure  more  or  less  pure  in  their 
lofty  valleys,  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  Piedmontese 
districts  of  Luzerne,  Angrogne,  and  Peyrouse.  The 
truth,  which  Rome  had  not  been  able  to  wrest  from 
them,  had  spread  from  the  heights  to  the  hollows  and 
base  of  the  mountains  in  Provence,  and  in  Dauphiny. 

The  year  after  the  accession  of  Charles  VIII.,  the 
son  of  Louis  XI.,  and  a  youth  of  feeble  health  and  ti- 
mid character — Innocent  VIII.  had  been  invested  with 
the  Pontiff's  tiara,  (1484.)  He  had  seven  or  eight 
sons  by  different  women  : — hence,  according  to  an  epi- 
gram of  that  age,  the  Romans  unanimously  gave  him 
the  name  of  Father.* 

There  was,  at  this  time,  on  the  southern  declivities 
of  the  Alps  of  Dauphiny,  and  along  the  banks  of  the 
Durance,  an  after-growth  of  the  ancient  Vaudois  opi- 
nions. "  The  roots,"  says  an  old  chronicler,  "  were 
continually  putting  forth  fresh  shoots  in  all  directions."! 
Bold  men  were  heard  to  designate  the  Church  of  Rome 
the  '  church  of  evil  spirits,'  and  to  maintain  that  it  was 
quite  as  profitable  to  pray  in  a  stable  as  in  a  church. 

The  clergy,  the  bishops,  and  the  Roman  legates, 
were  loud  in  their  outcries,  and,  on  the  5th  of  May, 
1487,  Innocent  VIII.,  the «  Father '  of  the  Romans,  is- 
sued a  bull  against  these  humble  Christians.  "  To 
arms,"  said  the  Pontiff,  "  to  arms !  and  trample  those 
heretics  under  your  feet,  as  you  would  crush  the  ve- 
nomous serpent. "i 

At  the  approach  of  the  Legate,  at  the  head  of  an 
army  of  eighteen  thousand  men,  and  a  host  of  volun- 
taries, drawn  together  by  the  hope  of  sharing  in  the 
plunder  of  the  Vaudois,  the  latter  abandoned  their  dwel- 
lings and  retired  to  the  mountains,  caverns,  and  clefts 
of  the  rocks,  as  the  birds  flee  for  shelter  when  a  storm 
is  rising.  Not  a  valley,  a  thicket,  or  a  rock  escaped 
their  persecutors'  search.  Throughout  the  adjacent 
Alps,  and  especially  on  the  side  of  Italy,  these  defence- 
less disciples  of  Christ  were  tracked  like  hunted  deer. 
At  last,  the  pope's  satellites  were  worn  out  with  the 
pursuit ;  their  strength  was  exhausted,  their  feet  could 
no  longer  scale  the  inaccessible  retreats  of  the  "  here- 
tics," and  their  arms  refused  their  office. 

In  these  Alpine  solitudes,  then  disturbed  by  Roman 
fanaticism,  three  leagues  from  the  ancient  town  of  Gap,$ 
in  the  direction  of  Grenoble,  not  far  from  the  flowery 
turf  that  clothes  the  table  land  of  Bayard's  mountain, 
at  the  foot  of  the  Mont  de  PAiguille,  and  near  to  the 
Col  de  Glaize,  toward  the  source  of  the  Buzon,  stood, 
and  still  stands,  a  group  of  houses,  half  hidden  by  sur- 
rounding trees,  and  known  by  the  name  of  Farel,  or, 
in  patois,  Fareau.\\  On  an  extended  plain  above  the 
neighbouring  cottages,  stood  a  house  of  the  class  to 
which,  in  France,  the  appellation  of  "  gentilhommiere" 
is  attached — a  country  gentleman's  habitation.^  It 

*  Octo  noccns  pueros  genuit  totidemque  puellas. 
Hunc  merito  poterit  dicere  Roma  Patrem. 

f  In  Ebredunensi  arehiepiscopatu  veteres  Waldensium  hae- 
reticorum  fibra  repullularunt.  (Raynald.  Annales  Ecclesiast. 
ad.  ann.  1487.) 

f  Armis  insurgant,  eosque  veluti  aspides  venenosos   .  . 
conculcent.   (Bull  of  Innocent  VIII.  preserved  at  Cambridge. 
Leger  Histoire  des  Eglises  Vaudoiscs,  ii.  p.  8.) 

§  Principal  town  of  the  High  Alps 

||  Revue  du  Dauphine.  July,  1837,  p.  35. 

1T  Grenoble  lo  Gap,  distant  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  jonrney 
from  the  last  posthouse,  and  a  stone's  throw  to  the  right  from 


322 


BIRTHPLACE  OF  FAREL— LA  SAINTE  CROIX— PRIEST'S  WIZARD. 


was  surrounded  by  an  orchard,  which  formed  an  ave 
nue  to  the  village.  Here,  in  those  troublous  times 
lived  a  family  bearing  the  name  of  Farel,  of  long-es^ 
tablished  reputation  for  piety,  and,  as  it  would  seem 
of  noble  descent.*  In  the  year  1489,  at  a  time  when 
Dauphiny  was  groaning  under  the  weight  of  papal  op- 
pression exceeding  what  it  had  ever  before  endured,  a 
son  was  born  in  this  modest  mansion,  who  received  the 
name  of  William.  Three  brothers,  Daniel,  Walter 
and  Claude,  and  a  sister,  grew  up  with  William,  anc 
shared  his  sports  on  the  banks  of  the  Buzon,  and  a 
the  foot  of  Mount  Bayard. 

His  infancy  and  boyhood  were  passed  on  the  same 
spot.  His  parents  were  among  the  most  submissive 
thralls  of  Popery.  "  My  father  and  mother  believed 
everything,"!  be  tells  us  himself ;  and  accordingly 
they  brought  up  their  children  in  the  strictest  observ- 
ances of  Romish  devotion. 

God  had  endowed  William  Farel  with  many  exalted 
qualities,  fitted  to  give  him  an  ascendency  over  his 
fellow-men.  Gifted  at  once  with  a  penetrating  judg- 
ment, and  a  lively  imagination,  sincere  and  upright  in 
his  deportment,  characterized  by  a  loftiness  of  soul 
which  never,  under  any  temptation,  allowed  him  to 
dissemble  the  convictions  of  his  heart  : — he  was  still 
more  remarkable  for  the  earnestness,  the  ardour,  the 
unflinching  courage,  which  bore  him  up,  and  carried 
him  forward  in  spite  of  every  hinderance.  But,  at  the 
same  time,  he  had  the  faults  allied  to  these  noble  qua 
lilies,  and  his  parents  found  frequent  occasion  to  repress 
the  violence  of  his  disposition. 

William  threw  himself,  with  his  whole  soul,  into  the 
same  superstitious  course  which  his  credulous  family 
had  followed  before  him.  "  I  am  horror  struck,"  said 
he,  at  a  later  period,  "  when  I  think  on  the  hours,  the 
prayers,  the  divine  honours,  which  I  have  offered  my- 
self, and  caused  others  to  offer,  to  the  cross,  and  such 
like  vanities."t 

Four  leagues  distant  from  Gap,  to  the  south,  near 
Tallard,  on  a  hill  which  overlooks  the  impetuous  waters 
of  the  Durance,  was  a  place  in  high  repute,  at  that 
time,  called  La  Sainte  Croix.  William  was  but  seven 
or  eight  years  old  when  his  parents  thought  fit  to  take 
him  thither  on  a  pilgrimage. $  "The  cross  you  will 
see  there,"  said  they,  "  is  made  of  the  wood  of  the  very 
cross  on  which  Jesus  Christ  was  crucified." 

The  family  set  forth  on  their  journey,  and  on  reach- 
ing the  object  of  their  veneration,  cast  themselves  pros- 
trate before  it.  After  they  had  gazed  awhile  on  the 
holy  wood  of  the  cross,  and  the  copper  appertaining  to 
it — the  latter,  as  the  priest  told  them,  "  made  of  the 
basin  in  which  our  Saviour  washed  the  feet  of  his  dis- 
ciples:"— the  pilgrims  cast  their  eyes  on  a  little  cruci- 
fix which  was  attached  to  the  cross.  "  When  the  de- 
vils send  us  hail  and  thunder,"  resumed  the  priest, 
«'  this  crucifix  moves  so  violently,  that  one  would  think 
it  wanted  to  get  loose  from  the  cross  to  put  the  devils 
to  flight,  and  all  the  while  it  keeps  throwing  out  sparks 


the  high  road,  is  the  village  of  the  Farels.  The  site  of  the 
house  which  belonged  to  the  father  of  the  Farels  is  still  pointed 
out.  Though  it  is  now  occupied  by  a  cottage  only,  its  di- 
mensions are  sufficient  lo  prove  that  the  oiiginal  structure 
must  have  been  a  dwelling  of  a  superior  order.  The  present 
inhabitant  of  the  cottage  bears  the  name  of  Farel.  For  these 
particulars  I  am  indebted  to  M.  Blanc,  the  pastor  of  Mens 

*  Oulielmum  Farellum  Delphinatem,  nobili  familia  ortum. 
(Bezae  Icones.)  Calvin,  writing  to  Cardinal  Sadolet,  dwells 
upon  the  disinterestedness  of  Farel  a  man  of  tuck  noble  birth. 
(Opuscule,  p.  148.) 

t  Du  vray  usage  de  la  Croix,  par  Cuillaume  Farel,  p. 
237. 

i  Ibid.  p.  232. 

§  J'estoy  e  fort  petit  et  a  peine  je  savoye  lire.  (Ibid.  p.  237.) 
La  premier  peleriuage  auquel  j'ai  este  a  este  a  la  saincte  croix. 
tfbid.  p.  233.) 


of  fire  against  the  storm  ;  were  it  not  for  this,  the  whole 
country  would  be  swept  bare."* 

These  pious  pilgrims  were  greatly  affected  at  the 
recital  of  such  prodigies.  "  Nobody,"  continued  the 
priest,  "  sees  or  knows  anything  of  these  things,  ex- 
cept myself  and  this  man  here  .  .  .  ."  The  pilgrims 
turned  their  heads,  and  saw  a  strange  looking  man  be- 
side them.  "  It  would  have  frightened  you  to  look  at 
him,"  says  Farel :  "  the  pupils  of  both  his  eyes  seemed 
to  be  covered  with  white  specks  ;  whether  they  wero 
so  in  reality,  or  that  Satan  gave  them  that  appear- 
ance."! This  uncouth-looking  man,  whom  the  unbe- 
lieving called  the  "  priest's  wizard,"  on  being  appealed 
to  by  the  latter,  bore  testimony  at  once  to  the  truth  of 
the  miracle.J 

A  new  episode  was  now  accidentally  introduced  to 
complete  the  picture,  and  mingle  suggestions  of  guilty 
excess  with  the  dreams  of  superstition.  "  Up  corr/es 
a  young  woman  on  some  errand  very  different  from 
devotion  to  the  cross,  carrying  a  little  child  wrapped 
in  a  cloak.  And,  behold,  the  priest  goes  to  meet  her, 
and  takes  hold  of  her  and  the  child,  and  carries  them 
straight  into  the  chapel :  never,  believe  me,  did  couple 
in  a  dance  amble  off  more  lovingly  than  did  these  two. 
But  so  blinded  were  we,  that  we  took  no  heed  of  their 
gestures  or  their  glances,  and  even  had  their  behaviour 
been  still  more  unseemly,  we  should  have  deemed  it 
altogether  right  and  reverent :  of  a  truth,  both  the 
damsel  and  the  priest  understood  the  miracle  thorough- 
ly, and  how  to  turn  a  pilgrim-visit  to  fair  account. "$ 

Here  we  are  presented  with  a  faithful  picture  of  the 
religion  and  manners  of  France  at  the  commencement 
of  the  Reformation.  Morals  and  belief  had  alike  been 
vitiated,  and  each  stood  in  need  of  a  thorough  renova- 
tion. In  proportion  as  a  higher  value  was  attached  to 
outward  rites,  the  sanctification  of  the  heart  had  be- 
come less  an  object  of  concern — dead  ordinances  had 
everywhere  usurped  the  place  of  a  Christian  life  ;  and, 
by  a  revolting,  yet  natural,  alliance,  the  most  scanda- 
lous debauchery  had  been  combined  with  the  most  su- 
perstitious devotion.  Instances  are  on  record  of  theft 
committed  at  the  altar,  seduction  practised  in  tho 
confessional  —  poison  mingled  with  the  eucharist — 
adultery  perpetrated  at  the  foot  of  a  cross  !  Supersti- 
tion, while  ruining  Christian  doctrine,  had  ruined  mo- 
rality also. 

There  were,  however,  numerous  exceptions  to  this 
pitiable  state  of  things  in  the  Christianity  of  the  middle 
ages.  Even  a  superstitious  faith  may  be  a  sincere  one^ 
William  Farel  is  an  example  of  this.  The  same  zeal 
which  afterward  urged  him  to  travel  incessantly  from 
place  to  place,  that  he  might  spread  the  knowledge  of 
Jesus  Christ,  then  incited  him  to  visit  every  spot  where 
the  church  exhibited  a  miracle,  or  exacted  a  tribute  of 
adoration.  Dauphiny  could  boast  of  her  seven  won- 
ders, which  had  long  been  sanctified  in  the  imagination 
of  the  people.  II  But  the  beauties  of  nature,  by  which  ho 
was  surrounded,  had  also  their  influence  in  raising  his 
.honghis  to  the  Creator. 

The  magnificent  chain  of  the  Alps — the  pinnacles 
covered  with  eternal  snow — the  enormous  rocks, 
sometimes  rearing  their  pointed  summits  to  the  sky — 
sometimes  stretching  their  naked  ridges  on* and- on 
above  the  level  clouds,  and  presenting  the  appearance 
of  an  island  suspended  in  the  air — all  these  wonders 
of  creation,  which,  even  then,  were  dilating  the  soul  of 
Jlric  Zwiugle,  in  the  Tockenburg,  spoke  with  equal 

Du  vray  usage  de  la  croix,  par  Guillaume  Farel.  p.  235— 
!39.  -^ 

t  Ibid.  p.  237.  t  Ibi<*-  P-  238. 

^  Du  vray  usage  de  la  croix,  par  Guillaume  Farel,  p.  235- 
Some  phrases  of  this  narrative  have  been  a  little  softened. 
||  The  boiling  spring,  the  cisterns  of  Sassenage,  the  manner 
f  Briancon,  &c. 


CHEVALIER  BAYARD— LOUIS  XIL— THE  TWO  VALOIS. 


323 


force  to  the  heart  of  William  Farel,  among  the  moun- 
tains of  Dauphiny.  He  thirsted  for  life — for  knowledge, 
for  light ;  he  aspired  to  be  something  great :  he  asked 
permission  to  study. 

It  was  an  unwelcome  surprise  to  his  father,  who 
thought  that  a  young  noble  should  know  nothing  be- 
yond his  rosary  and  his  sword.  The  universal  theme 
of  conversation  at  that  time,  was  the  prowess  of  a 
young  countryman  of  William's,  a  native  of  Dauphiny 
like  himself,  named  Du  Terrail,  but  better  known  by 
the  name  of  Bayard,  who  had  recently  performed  as- 
tonishing feats  of  valour  in  the  battle  of  Tar,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Alps.  "  Such  sons  as  he,"  it  was 
currently  remarked,  "  are  like  arrows  in  the  hand  of  a 
mighty  man.  Blessed  is  the  man  who  has  his  quiver 
full  of  them  !"  Accordingly,  Farel's  father  resisted 
his  wish  to  become  a  scholar.  But  the  youth's  resolu- 
tion was  not  to  be  shaken.  God  designed  him  for  nobler 
conquests  than  any  that  are  to  be  achieved  by  such  as 
Bayard.  He  urged  his  request  with  repeated  importu- 
nity, and  the  old  gentleman  at  length  gave  way.* 

Farel  immediately  applied  himself  to  study,  with 
surprising  ardour.  The  masters  whom  he  found  in 
Dauphiny  were  of  little  service  to  him  ;  and  he  had  to 
contend  with  all  the  disadvantages  of  imperfect  me- 
thods of  tuition  and  incapable  teachers. f  But  difficul- 
ties stimulated,  instead  of  discouraging  him  ;  and  he 
soon  surmounted  these  impediments.  His  brothers 
followed  his  example.  Daniel  subsequently  entered 
on  the  career  of  politics,  and  was  employed  on  some 
important  negotiations  concerning  religion.  J  Walter 
was  admitted  into  the  confidence  of  the  count  of  Furst- 
emberg. 

Farel,  ever  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge,  having 
learned  all  that  was  to  be  learned  in  his  native  province, 
turned  his  eyes  elsewhere.  The  fame  of  the  universi- 
ty of  Paris  had  long  resounded  through  the  Christian 
world.  He  was  anxious  to  see  "  this  mother  of  all 
the  sciences,  this  true  luminary  of  the  church  which 
never  knew  eclipses — this  pure  and  polished  mirror  of 
the  faith,  dimmed  by  no  cloud,  sullied  by  no  foul 
touch. $  He  obtained  permission  from  his  parents, 
and  set  out  for  the  capital  of  France. 

In  the  course  of  the  year  1510,  or  shortly  after  the 
close  of  that  year,  the  young  Dauphinese  arrived  in 
Paris.  His  native  province  had  sent  him  forth  a  de- 
voted adherent  of  the  papacy — the  capital  was  to  con- 
vert him  into  something  far  different.  In  France  the 
Reformation  was  not  destined,  as  in  Germany,  to  take 
its  rise  in  a  petty  city,  By  whatever  movement  the 
population  of  the  former  country  may  at  any  time  be 
agitated,  the  impulse  is  always  to  be  traced  to  the 
metropolis,  A  concurrence  of  providential  circum- 
stances had  made  Paris,  at  the  commencement  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  the  focus  from  which  a  spark  of 
vivifying  fire  might  easily  be  emitted.  The  stranger 
from  the  neighbourhood  of  Gap,  who  had  just  found 
his  way  to  the  great  city,  an  obscure  and  ill-instructed 
youth,  was  to  receive  that  spark  into  his  bosom,  and 
to  share  it  with  many  around  him. 

Louis  XII.,  the  father  of  his  people,  had  just  con- 
vened an  assembly  of  the  representatives  of  the  French 
clergy  at  Tours.  This  prince  seems  to  have  antici- 
pated the  times  of  the  Reformation,  so  that  if  that 
great  revolution  had  taken  place  during  his  reign,  all 

*  Cum  a  parentibus  vix  impetrassem  ad  littnras  concessum. 
(Farel  Natali  Galeoto,  1527.  MS.  Letters  of  the  conclave  of 
Neuchatel.) 

f  A  praeceptoribus  praecipue  in  Latina  lingua  ineptissimis 
insti tutus.  (Farelli  Epist ) 

i  Life  of  Farel,  MS.  at  Geneva. 

(j  Universitatem  Parisiensem  matrem  omnium  scientiarum 
....  speculum  fidei  tersum  et  politura  .  .  .  (Prima  Apellat 
Universit,  an.  1396,  Bulosus,  ir.  p.  806.) 


France,  probably,  would  have  become  Protestant. 
The  assembly  at  Tours  had  declared  that  the  king  had 
a  right  to  make  war  against  the  pope,  and  to  carry  into 
effect  the  decrees  of  the  council  of  Basle.  These  de- 
cisions were  the  subject  of  general  conversation  in  the 
colleges,  as  well  as  in  the  city,  and  at  the  court,  and 
they  could  not  fail  to  make  a  deep  impression  on  the 
mind  of  young  Farel. 

Two  children  of  royal  blood  were  then  growing  up 
in  the  court  of  Louis.  The  one  was  a  young  prince 
of  tall  stature,  and  a  striking  cast  of  features,  who 
evinced  little  moderation  of  character,  and  yielded 
himself  unreflectingly  to  the  mastery  of  his  passions, 
so  that  the  king  was  often  heard  to  say,  "  That  great 
boy  will  spoil  all."*  This  was  Francis  of  Angouleme, 
Duke  of  Valois,  the  king's  cousin.  Boisy,  his  gover- 
nor, had  taught  him,  however,  to  show  great  respect 
to  letters. 

The  companion  of  Francis  was  his  sister  Margaret, 
who  was  two  years  older  than  himself.  "  A  princess," 
says  Bran  tome,  "  of  vigorous  understanding,  and  great 
talents,  both  natural  and  acquired."!  Accordingly, 
Louis  had  spared  no  pains  in  her  education,  and  the 
most  learned  men  in  the  kingdom  were  prepared  to 
acknowledge  Margaret  as  their  patroness. 

Already,  indeed,  a  group  of  illustrious  men  was  col- 
lected round  the  two  Valois.  William  Bude,  who,  in 
his  youth,  had  given  himself  up  to  self-indulgence  of 
every  kind,  and  especially  to  the  enjoyment  of  the 
chase — living  among  his  hawks,  and  horses,  and  hounds; 
and  who,  at  the  age  of  twenty-three,  had  suddenly  al- 
tered his  course  of  life,  sold  off  his  equipage,  and  ap- 
plied himself  to  study  with  all  the  eagerness  he  had 
formerly  displayed  when  cheering  on  his  pack  to  follow 
the  scent  through  field  and  forest  :£ — Cop,  the  physi- 
cian : — Francis  Vatable,  whose  proficiency  in  Hebrew 
learning  was  admired  by  the  Jewish  doctors  themselves: 
Jarnes  Tusan,  the  celebrated  Hellenist : — these,  and 
other  men  of  letters  beside — encouraged  by  Stephen 
Poncher,  the  bishop  of  Paris,  Louis  Ruzd,  the  "  Lieu- 
tenant-Civil," and  Francis  de  Luynes,  and  already  pro- 
tected by  the  two  young  Valois,  maintained  their  ground 
against  the  violent  attacks  of  the  Sorbonne,  who  re- 
garded the  study  of  Greek  and  Hebrew  as  the  most 
fearful  heresy.  At  Paris,  as  in  Germany  and  Switzer- 
land, the  restoration  of  religious  truth  was  preceded 
by  the  revival  of  letters.  But  in  France,  the  hands 
that  prepared  the  materials  were  not  appointed  to  con- 
struct the  edifice. 

Among  all  the  doctors  who  then  adorned  the  French 
metropolis,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  was  a  man  of 
diminutive  stature,  of  mean  appearance,  and  humble 
birth  ;$  whose  wit,  erudition,  and  eloquence  had  an  in- 
describable charm  for  all  who  approached  him.  The 
name  of  this  doctor  was  Lefevre  ;  he  was  born  in  1455, 
at  Etaples,  a  little  town  in  Picardy.  He  had  received 
only  an  indifferent  education — a  barbarous  one,  Theo- 
dore Beza  calls  it ;  but  his  genius  had  supplied  the 
want  of  masters  ;  and  his  piety,  his  learning,  and  the 
nobility  of  his  soul,  shone  with  a  lustre  so  much  the 
brighter.  He  had  been  a  great  traveller  : — it  would 
3ven  appear  that  his  desire  to  acquire  knowledge  had 
ed  him  into  Asia  and  Africa.il  So  early  as  the  year 
1493,  Lefevre,  being  then  a  doctor  of  theology,  occu- 
pied the  station  of  a  professor  in  the  University  of  Pa- 
•is.  He  immediately  assumed  a  distinguished  place 

*Mezeray,  vol.  iv.  p.  127. 

f  Brant.  Dames  Illustres,  p  331, 

j  His  wile  and  sons  came  to  Geneva  in  1540,  after  his  death. 

^  Homunculi  unius  neque  genere  insignis.     (Bezae  Icones ) 

H  In  the  2d  chapter  of  his  Commentary  on  the  Second  Epis- 
le  to  the  Thessaloniaus  is  a  curious  story  regarding  Mecca 
and  the  temple  there,  which  he  relates  in  the  style  of  a  tra- 
veller. 


324 


LEFEVRE— HIS  DEVOTION— FAREL'S  REVERENCE  FOR  THE  POPE. 


among  his  colleagues,  and,  in  the  estimation  of  Eras- 
mus, ranked  above  them  all.* 

Lefevre  soon  discovered  that  he  had  a  peculiar  task 
to  fulfil.  Though  attached  to  the  practices  of  the  Ro- 
mish Church,  he  conceived  a  desire  to  reform  the  bar- 
barous system  which  then  prevailed  in  the  University  ;t 
he  accordingly  began  to  teach  the  various  branches  of 
philosophy  with  a  precision  hitherto  unknown.  He  la- 
boured to  revive  the  study  of  languages  and  classical 
antiquities.  He  went  farther  than  this  ;  he  perceived 
that  when  a  mental  regeneration  is  aimed  at,  philoso- 
phy and  literature  are  insufficient  instruments.  Aban- 
doning, therefore,  the  scholastic  theology,  which  for  so 
many  ages  had  held  an  undisputed  sway  in  the  seats 
of  learning,  he  applied  himself  to  the  Bible,  and  again 
introduced  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  and  evan- 
gelical science.  They  were  no  barren  researches  to 
which  he  addicted  himself ;  he  went  straight  to  the 
heart  of  the  Bible.  His  eloquence,  his  candour,  his 
affability,  captivated  every  heart.  Earnest  and  fervent 
in  the  pulpit — in  his  private  intercourse  with  his  pupils 
he  condescended  to  the  most  engaging  familiarity. — 
"  He  loves  me  exceedingly,"  was  the  language  of  Gla- 
reanus,  one  of  the  number,  when  writing  to  his  friend, 
Zwingle ;  "  he  is  all  frankness  and  kindness — he  sings, 
he  plays,  he  disputes,  and  then  laughs  with  me."t  Ac- 
cordingly, a  great  number  of  disciples,  from  every  coun- 
try, were  gathered  around  his  chair. 

This  man,  learned  as  he  was,  submitted  himself  all 
the  while,  with  childlike  simplicity,  to  all  the  ordinances 
of  the  Church.  He  passed  as  much  time  in  the  churches 
as  in  his  closet — so  that  a  sympathetic  union  seemed 
established  beforehand  between  the  old  doctor  of  Pi- 
cardy  and  the  young  student  of  Dauphiny.  When 
two  natures,  so  congenial  as  these,  are  brought  within 
the  same  sphere,  though  it  be  the  wide  and  agitated 
circle  of  a  capital  city,  their  reciprocal  attraction  must 
at  last  place  them  in  contact  with  each  other.  In  his 
pious  pilgrimages,  young  Farel  soon  observed  an  old 
man,  by  whose  devotion  he  was  greatly  interested.  He 
remarked  how  he  fell  on  his  knees  before  the  images, 
how  long  he  remained  in  that  posture,  how  fervently 
he  seemed  to  pray,  and  how  devoutly  he  repeated  his 
hours.  "  Never,"  says  Farel,  "  had  I  heard  a  chanter 
chant  the  mass  more  reverently."^  This  was  Lefevre. 
Farel  immediately  felt  a  strong  desire  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  him  : — and  great,  indeed,  was  his  joy 
when  the  venerable  man  met  his  approaches  with  kind- 
ness. He  had  now  found  what  he  had  come  to  the 
capital  to  seek.  Henceforth,  his  chief  delight  was  to 
converse  with  the  doctor  of  Etaples,  to  listen  to  his 
instructions,  to  practise  his  admirable  precepts,  and  to 
kneel  with  him  in  pious  adoration  at  the  same  shrine 
Often  were  the  aged  Lefevre  and  his  youthful  disciple 
seen  assisting  each  other  to  adorn  the  image  of  the 
Virgin  with  flowers— while  far  removed  from  Paris, 
far  removed  from  the  throng  of  the  collegiate  hall,  they 
murmured  in  concert  their  earnest  prayers  to  the  bless- 
ed Mary.'MI 

The  attachment  of  Farel  to  Lefevre  was  generally 
noticed,  and  the  respect  inspired  by  the  old  doctor  was 
reflected  on  his  pupil.  This  illustrious  connexion  was 
the  means  of  withdrawing  the  young  Dauphinese  from 
his  obscurity.  He  soon  acquired  a  reputation  for  his 

*  Fabro,  viro  quo  vix  in  multis  millibus  reperias  vel  intc- 
griorem  vel  humaniprem,  says  Erasmus.  (Er.  Epp.  p.  174.) 

f  Barbariem  nobilissimae  academiae incumbentem 

detrudi.  (Be/ae  Icones.) 

}  Supra  modum  me  amat  totus  integer  et  candidus,  mecum 
cantillat  ludit,  dispute!  ridet  mecum.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  16.) 

()  Ep.  de  Farel  a  tons  seigneurs,  petiples  et  pasteurs. 

||  Kloribus  jubebat  Marianum  idolum,  dumuna  soli  murmn- 
raremus  preces  Marianas  ad  idolum,  ornari.  (Farellus  Pelli- 
cano,  an.  1556.) 


zeal ;  and  many  pious  persons  of  the  wealthier  order 
intrusted  him  with  sums  of  money,  to  be  applied  to  the 
support  of  poor  students.* 

Some  time  elapsed  before  Lefevre  and  his  disciple 
attained  to  a  clear  perception  of  the  truth.  It  was  nei- 
ther the  hope  of  a  rich  benefice,  nor  any  propensity  to 
an  irregular  life,  that  bound  Farel  so  firmly  to  the  cause 
of  Popery :  a  spirit  like  his  was  not  to  be  influenced 
by  motives  so  sordid.  The  pope,  in  his  eyes,  was  the 
visible  chief  of  the  Church — a  sort  of  divinity,  at  whose 
bidding,  souls  were  rescued  from  perdition.  If  any 
one,  in  his  hearing,  presumed  to  say  a  word  against 
the  venerated  Pontiff,  he  gnashed  his  teeth  like  a  raging 
wolf,  and,  if  he  could,  would  have  called  down  thunder 
from  heaven  to  overwhelm  the  guilty  wretch  in  ruin 
and  confusion.  "  I  believe,"  he  said,  u  in  the  cross, 
in  pilgrimages,  in  images,  in  vows,  in  relics.  What 
the  priest  holds  in  his>  hands,  shuts  up  in  the  box,  eats 
himself,  and  gives  to  be  eaten  by  others — that  is  my 
only  true  God —  and,  to  me,  there  is  no  God  beside, 
in  heaven  or  on  earth  !"t  "  Satan,"  he  says  afterward, 
"  had  lodged  the  pope  and  Popery,  and  all  that  is  of 
himself,  so  deeply  in  my  heart,  that,  even  in  the  pope's 
own  heart,  they  could  have  sunk  no  deeper." 

And  thus  it  was,  that  while  Farel  seemed  to  be  seek- 
ing God,  his  piety  decayed,  and  superstition  gathered 
strength  in  his  soul.  He  has  himself,  in  forcible  lan- 
guage, described  his  condition  at  that  time.t  "Oh!" 
says  he,  "  how  I  shudder  at  myself  and  my  sins,  when 
I  think  on  it  all ;  and  how  great  and  wonderful  a  work 
of  God  it  is,  that  man  should  ever  be  delivered  from 
such  ar»  abyss  !" 

The  deliverance  in  his  own  case  was  wrought  by 
little  and  little.  In  the  course  of  his  reading,  his  at- 
tention had  at  first  been  engaged  by  profane  authors  ; 
but,  finding  no  food  for  his  piety  in  these,  he  had  set 
himself  to  study  the  lives  of  the  saints;  infatuation 
had  led  him  to  these  legends,  and  he  quitted  them 
more  miserably  infatuated  still  §  He  then  addressed 
himself  to  several  of  the  celebrated  doctors  of  the 
age  ;  but  these,  instead  of  imparting  tranquillity  to  his 
mind,  only  aggravated  his  wretchedness.  He  next 
resolved  to  study  the  ancient  philosophers,  and  at- 
tempted to  learn  Christianity  from  Aristotle  ;  but  again 
his  hopes  were  frustrated.  Books,  images,  relics,  Aris- 
totle, the  Virgin,  and  the  saints — all  were  unavailing. 
His  eager  spirit  wandered  from  one  broken  cistern  of 
human  wisdom  to  another,  and  turned  away  from  each 
in  succession,  unrelieved  of  the  thirst  that  consumed 
it. 

At  last,  remembering  that  the  pope  allowed  the 
writings  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament  to  be  called 
the  "  Holy  Bible,"  Farel  betook  himself  to  the  perusal 
of  these,  as  Luther,  in  the  cloister  of  Erfurth  had  done 
before  him  ;  and  then,  to  his  dismay,||  he  found  that 
the  existing  state  of  things  was  such  as  could  in  no 
way  be  reconciled  with  the  rule  of  Scripture.  He 
was  now,  we  might  think,  on  the  very  point  of  corning 
at  the  truth,  when,  all  at  once,  the  darkness  rolled  back 
upon  him  with  redoubled  weight,  and  the  depths  closed 
over  him  again.  "  Satan,"  says  he,  "  started  up  in 
haste,  that  he  might  not  lose  his  possession,  and 
wrought  in  me  as  he  was  wont."U  A  terrible  struggle 
between  the  word  of  God  and  the  word  of  the  church 
now  ensued  in  his  heart.  If  he  fell  in  with  any  passage 
of  Scripture  opposed  to  the  practice  of  the  Romish 

*  Manuscript  at  Geneva 

\  Ep.  de  Farel — a  tous  seigneurs,  peupjes  ct  pasteurs. 

J  Quo  plus  pergere  et  promovere  adnitebar,  eo  amplius  re- 
trocedebam.  (Far.  Oaleoto,  MS  Letters  at  Neuchatel.) 

§  Qua;  de  sanctisconscriptaoftendebam,  verum  ex  stultoin- 
sannm  faciebant.  (Ibid.) 

Fartl  a  tous  seigneurs.  IT  Ibid. 


GLEAMS  OF  LIGHT— LEFEVRE  TURNS  TO  ST.  PAUL— LEFEVRE  ON  WORKS.    325 


, 


church,  he  cast  down  his  eyes  in  perplexity,  not  daring 
to  credit  what  he  read.*  "Ah!"  he  would  say, 
shrinking  away  from  the  Bible,  "  I  do  not  well  under- 
stand these  things ;  I  must  put  a  different  construction 
on  these  passages  from  that  which  they  seem  to  me 
to  bear.  I  must  hold  to  the  interpretation  of  the 
church,  or  rather,  of  the  pope  !" 

One  day  when  he  was  reading  the  Bible,  a  doctor, 
who  chanced  to  come  in,  rebuked  him  sharply.  "  No 
one,"  said  he,  "  ought  to  read  the  Holy  Scriptures  until 
he  has  studied  philosophy,  and  taken  his  degree  in 
arts  "  This  was  a  preparation  the  apostles  had  never 
required  ;  but  Farel  believed  him.  ••  I  was  the  most 
unhappy  of  men,"  he  tells  us,  "  for  I  turned  away  my 
eyes  from  the  light."t 

The  young  Dauphinese  was  now  visited  with  a  fresh 
paroxysm  of  Romish  fervor.  His  imagination  was 
inflamed  by  the  legends  of  the  saints.  The  severities 
of  monastic  discipline  were  to  him  a  powerful  attrac- 
tion. There  was  a  cluster  of  gloomy  cells  in  a  wood 
not  far  distant  from  Paris,  occupied  by  an  establishment 
of  Carthusians  :  hither  he  often  repaired  as  an  humble 
visitor,  and  took  part  in  the  austerities  of  the  monks. 
"  I  was  busied  day  and  night,"  he  says,  "  in  serving 
the  devil  after  the  fashion  of  the  pope — that  man  of 
sin.  I  had  my  pantheon  in  my  heart,  and  so  many  in- 
tercessors, so  many  saviours,  so  many  gods,  that  I 
might  well  have  pased  for  a  Popish  register." 

The  darkness  could  never  grow  thicker — but  now 
the  morning  star  was  to  arise ;  and  the  voice  of  Le- 
fevre  was  to  give  the  signal  of  its  appearance.  The 
doctor  of  Etaples  had  already  caught  some  gleams  of 
light :  an  inward  conviction  assured  him  that  the  church 
could  not  remain  in  the  state  in  which  she  then  was ; 
and  often  on  his  way  homeward,  after  chanting  the 
mass,  or  paying  adoration  to  an  image,  the  old  man 
would  turn  to  his  youthful  disciple,  and  say  in  a  so- 
lemn tone,  as  he  grasped  him  by  the  hand  :  "  My  dear 
William,  God  will  change  the  face  of  the  world — and 
you  will  see  it !''{  Farel  did  not  properly  conceive 
his  meaning.  But  Lefevre  did  not  stop  at  these  mys- 
terious words ;  and  the  great  change  which  was 
wrought  in  his  mind  about  this  time  was  appointed  to 
produce  a  similar  change  in  the  mind  of  his  pupil. 

The  old  doctor  had  undertaken  a  task  of  immense 
labour;  he  was  carefully  collecting  the  legends  of  the 
saints  and  martyrs,  and  arranging  them  in  the  order  in 
which  their  names  are  inserted  in  the  calendar.  Two 
months  had  already  been  printed,  when  one  of  those 
rays  of  light  that  come  from  on  high,  flashed  on  a  sud 
den  into  his  soul.  He  could  no  longer  overcome  the 
disgust  which  superstitions  so  puerile  must  ever  excite 
in  a  Christian  heart.  The  grandeur  of  the  word  of 
God  made  him  perceive  the  wretched  folly  of  such 
fables.  They  now  appeared  to  him  but  as  '•  brimstone, 
fit  only  to  kindle  the  fire  of  idolatry. "§  fle  abandoned 
his  work,  and,  casting  aside  all  these  legends,  turned 
affectionately  to  the  Holy  Scriptures.  At  that  moment, 
when  Lefevre,  forsaking  the  marvellous  histories  of 
the  saints,  laid  his  hand  on  the  word  of  God,  a  new 
era  opened  in  France — and  tho  Reformation  com- 
menced its  course. 

Weaned,  as  we  have  seen,  from  the  fictions  of  the 
Breviary,  Lefevre  began  to  study  the  Epistles  of  St. 
Paul  :  the  light  grew  rapidly  in  his  heart,  and  he  soon 
communicated  to  his  disciples  that  knowledge  of  the 

*  Oculos  demittens,  visis  non  credebam.  (Farel  Natali  Ga- 
Icote.) 

t  Oculos  a  luce  avertebam. 

j  A  'otis  seigneurs.— See  also  his  letter  to  Pellican.  Ante 
annos  plus  minus  quadraginta,  me  manu  apprehensum  ita 
alloqtirbatur — "  Guillelme,  oportet  orbem  immutari  et  tu  vi- 
debis !" 

t  A  tous  seigneurs,  pouples  et  pastcurs. 


truth,  which  we  find  in  his  commentaries.*  Those 
were  strange  doctrines  for  the  schools  and  for  the 
world  around  him,  which  were  then  first  heard  in  Paris, 
and  disseminated  by  printing  presses  through  all  Chris- 
tendom. We  may  imagine  that  the  young  students 
who  listened  were  aroused,  impressed,  and  changed  ; 
and  that  in  this  way  the  aurora  of  a  brighter  day  had 
dawned  upon  France  prior  to  the  year  1512. 

The  great  truth  of  justification  by  faith,  which  at 
once  overturns  the  subtilties  of  the  schools  and  the 
popish  doctrine  of  the  efficacy  of  works,  was  boldly 
proclaimed  in  the  very  bosom  of  Sorbonne  itself.  "It 
is  God  alone,"  said  the  teacher,  (and  it  might  have 
seemed  as  if  the  very  roofs  of  the  university  would 
cry  out  against  such  new  sounds,)  "  It  is  God  alone, 
who  by  his  grace  justifies  unto  eternal  life.*  There  is 
a  righteousness  of  our  own  works,  and  a  righteousness 
which  is  of  grace — the  one  a  thing  of  man's  invention, 
the  other  coming  from  God — the  one  earthly  and  pass- 
ing away,  the  other  divine  and  everlasting — the  one 
the  shadow  and  semblance,  the  other  the  light  and  the 
truth — the  one  discovering  sin  and  bringing  the  fear  of 
death — the  other  revealing  grace  for  the  attainment  of 
life  !"t 

"  What  will  you  then  say  1"  enquired  the  hearers, 
to  whom  such  sounds  appeared  to  contradict  the 
teaching  of  four  centuries,  "  will  you  say  that  any  one 
man  was  ever  justified  without  works  ?" — "  One,  do 
you  ask  1"  returned  Lefevie,  "  why  they  are  innumer- 
able. How  many  shameful  sinners  have  eagerly  asked 
to  be  baptized,  having  nothing  but  faith  in  Christ  alone, 
and  who,  if  they  died  the  moment  after,  entered  into 
the  life  of  the  blessed  without  works." — "  If,  then,  we 
are  not  justified  by  works,  it  is  in  vain  that  we  should 
do  them,"  replied  some.  To  this  the  doctor  made 
answer,  and  possibly  the  other  reformers  might  not 
have  altogether  gone  with  him  in  his  reply  : — "  Quito 
the  contrary — it  is  not  in  vain.  If  I  hold  up  a  mirror 
to  the  sun,  it  receives  in  it  his  image :  the  more  I 
polish  and  clean  the  mirror,  the  brighter  does  the  re- 
flection of  the  sun  shine  in  it ;  but  if  I  suffer  it  to  tar- 
nish and  dull,  the  solar  brilliancy  is  lost.  So  it  is  with 
justification  in  those  who  lead  an  unholy  life."  In  this 
passage,  Lefevre,  like  St.  Augustin,  in  several  parts 
of  his  writings,  does  not,  perhaps,  sufficiently  mark  the 
distinction  between  justification  and  sanctification. 
The  doctor  of  Etaples  often  reminds  us  of  him  of 
Hippone.  Those  who  lead  an  unholy  life  have  never 
received  justification — hence  such  cannot  lose  it.  But 
Lefevre,  perhaps,  intended  to  say  that  the  Christian, 
when  he  falls  into  any  sin,  loses  the  assurance  of  his 
salvation,  and  not  his  salvation  itself  $  To  this  way 
of  stating  it  there  would  be  nothing  to  object. 

Thus  a  new  life  and  a  new  character  of  teaching  had 
penetrated  within  the  University  of  Paris*.  The  doc- 
trine of  Faith  which,  in  the  first  ages,  had  been  preach- 
ed in  Gaul,  by  Potinus  and  Irenaeus,  was  again  heard. 

»  The  first  edition  of  hi?  Commentary  on  the  Epistles  of  St. 
Pan!  bears  the  date,  if  I  mistake  not,  of  1512.  There  is  a  copy 
of  it  in  the  Royal  Library  at  Paris.  The  second  edition  is  that 
to  which  my  citations  refer.  The  learned  Simon,  in  his  ob- 
servations on  the  New  Testament,  says,  "James  Lefevre 
must  be  ranked  among  the  most  able  commentators  of  hit 
age." 

t  Solus  enim  Dens  est  qui  hanc  justitiam  per  fidem  tradit, 
qui  sola  gratia  ad  vitam  justificat  aeternam.  (Fabri  Comm. 
in  Epp.  Pauli,  p.  70) 

\  Ilia  umbratile  vestigium  atque  signum,  hsec  lux  et  veri. 
tas  est.  (Fabri  Comm.  in  Epp.  Pauli,  p.  70  ) 

§  The  believer  may  well  bless  God  for  this  troth,  namely, 
that  he  may  lose  the  ('  tentimtnt')  assurance  of  his  salvation, 
without  hia  salvation  being  endangered.  The  cloud  may, 
and  it  is  believed  often  has,  involved  the  vessel  during  the 
greater  part  of  her  course,  which  is  not  the  less  advancing 
unto  the  haven  where  she  would  be.  Is  Christ  in  the  vessel? 
—is  that  which  concerns  us.-  Tr. 


326       FAITH  AND  WORKS— PARADOXICAL  TRUTH— FAREL  AND  THE  SAINTS. 


Thenceforward,  there  were  two  different  parties,  and 
two  different  peoples  in  that  celebrated  school.  The 
instructions  given  by  Lefevre — the  zeal  of  his  disciples, 
formed  a  striking  contrast  to  the  dry  teaching  of  the 
majority  of  its  doctors,  and  the  frivolous  conversation 
of  the  generality  of  the  students.  In  the  colleges, 
more  time  was  lost  in  committing  to  memory  different 
parts  in  comedies,  masquerading,  and  mountebank 
farces,  than  was  given  to  the  study  of  God's  word.  In 
such  farces  it  not  unfrequently  happened,  that  the  re- 
spect due  to  the  higher  classes,  the  nobility,  and  even 
royally  itself,  was  forgotten.  At  the  very  time  we 
are  writing  of,  the  Parliament  intervened,  and  sum- 
moning before  them  the  principals  of  several  of  the  col- 
leges, prohibited  those  indulgent  tutors  from  suffering 
such  comedies  to  be  acted  in  their  houses.* 

But  a  mightier  intervention  than  the  mandates  of 
Parliament  came  to  the  correction  of  these  disorders 
in  the  University  ;  CHRIST  was  preached  among  its 
inmates.  Great  was  the  commotion  on  its  benches  ; 
and  the  minds  of  the  students  were  almost  as  generally 
occupied  with  discussions  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Gos- 
pel, as  in  scholastic  subtilties  or  theatrical  exhibitions. 
Some  of  those  whose  lives  were  least  able  to  bear  the 
light,  were  yet  heard  taking  the  part  of  works,  and  feel- 
ing instinctively  that  the  doctrine  of  Faith  condemned 
the  licentiousness  of  their  lives — they  maintained  that 
St.  James,  in  his  epistle,  was  at  variance  with  the  writ- 
ings of  St.  Paul.  Lefevre,  resolving  to  stand  by  and 
protect  the  treasure  he  had  found,  showed  how  the  two 
apostles  agreed  :  "  Does  not  St.  James  say,"  asked  he, 
"  that  every  good  and  perfect  gift  cometh  down  from 
above — and  who  will  contest  that  justification  is  the 
perfect  gift,  the  excellent  grace  1  ...  If  we  see  a  man 
moving,  the  breathing  we  see  in  him  is  to  us  the  sign 
of  life.  Thus  works  are  necessary,  but  only  as  signs 
of  that  living  faith  which  is  accompanied  by  justifica- 
tion.! Is  it  the  eye-salve  or  lotion  which  gives  light 
to  the  eye  1  No  ;  it  is  the  light  of  the  sun.  Just  so, 
our  works  are  but  as  eye-salves  and  lotions  ;  the  beam 
that  the  sun  sends  forth  from  above  is  justfication  it- 
•elf."t 

Farel  hung  upon  these  sounds  with  intense  interest. 
Instantly  this  word  of  a  Salvation  by  Grace  had  upon 
his  soul  an  unspeakable  power  of  attraction.  Every 
objection  fell — every  difficulty  vanished.  Scarcely 
had  Lefevre  brought  forward  this  doctrine,  when  Farel 
embraced  it  with  all  his  heart  and  mind.  He  had 
known  enough  of  labour  and  conflict  to  be  convinced 
that  he  had  no  power  to  save  himself;  therefore,  when 
he  saw  in  God's  word  that  God  saves  FREELY,  he  be- 
lieved God.  "  Lefevre,"  exclaimed  he,  "  extricated  me 
from  ihe  delusive  thought  of  human  deservings,  and 
taught  me  how  that  all  is  of  Grace — which  I  believed 
as  soon  as  it  was  spoken. "$  Thus  was  gained  to  the 
faith  by  a  conversion  as  prompt  and  decisive  as  that 
of  St.  Paul  himself,  that  Farel  who,  to  use  the  words 
of  Theodore  Beza,  undismayed  by  threatening,  despis- 
ing the  shame  and  enduring  his  cross,  won  for  Christ 
— Montbelliard,  Neufchatel,  Lausanne,  Aigle,  and  at 
last  Geneva  itself. II 

Meanwhile  Lefevre,  following  up  his  teaching,  and 
taking  delight  in  employing  contrasts  and  paradoxes, 
embodying  weighty  truths,  extolled  the  sublime  mys- 
teries of  redemption.  "  Oh  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  the  un- 
speakable greatness  of  that  exchange— the  sinless  One 

»  Crevier  Hist,  del  Universite,  V.  p.  95. 

t  Opera  signa  vivae  fidei,  quara  justificatio  scquitur.  (Fa- 
bri Comm.  in  Epp.  Pauli,  p.  73.) 

J  8ed  radius  desuper  a  sole  vibratus,  justificatio  est.  (Ibid, 
p.  73.) 

()  Farel.     A  tous  seigneurs. 

||  Nullis  difficultatibus  fractus,  nullis  minis,  convitiis,  ver- 
Deribud denique  in/lictis  tcrrjtus.  (Bezx  Icones.) 


is  condemned,  and  he  who  is  guilty  goes  free — the 
Blessing  bears  the  curse,  and  the  cursed  is  brought 
into  blessing — the  Life  dies,  and  the  dead  live  — the 
Glory  is  whelmed  in  darkness,  and  he  who  knew  no- 
thing but  confusion  of  face  is  clothed  with  glory."* — 
The  pious  teacher  going  yet  deeper  into  his  theme,  re- 
cognised that  all  salvation  emanates  from  the  sove- 
reignty of  God's  love  :  "  They  who  are  saved,"  said 
he,  "are  saved  by  the  electing  grace  and  will  of  God, 
not  by  their  own  will.  Our  election,  our  will,  our 
working,  is  all  in  vain  ;  the  alone  election  of  God  is 
all  powerful !  When  we  are  converted,  it  is  not  our 
conversion  which  makes  us  the  elect  of  God,  but  it  is 
the  grace,  will,  and  election  of  God,  which  works  our 
conversion."! 

But  Lefevre  did  not  stop  short  in  doctrines  ;  if  he 
gave  to  God  the  glory — he  turned  to  man  for  "  the 
obedience,"  and  urged  the  obligations  flowing  from  the 
exceeding  privileges  of  the  Christian.  "  If  thou  art  a 
member  of  Christ's  church,"  said  he,  "  thou  art  a  mem- 
ber of  his  body  ;  if  ihou  art  of  his  body,  then  thou  art 
full  of  the  Divine  nature,  for  the  '  fulness  of  the  God- 
head dwelleth  in  him  bodily.'  Oh!  if  men  could  but 
enter  into  the  understanding  of  this  privilege,  how 
purely,  chastely,  and  holily  would  they  live,  and  how 
contemptible,  when  compared  with  the  glory  within 
them — that  glory  which  the  eye  of  flesh  cannot  see — 
would  they  deem  all  the  glory  of  this  world. "t 

Lefevre  felt  that  the  office  of  a  teacher  in  heavenly 
things  was  a  high  distinction  :  he  discharged  that  of- 
fice with  unvarying  fidelity.  The  dissolute  morals  of 
the  age,  and  more  especially  of  the  clergy,  roused  his 
indignation,  and  was  the  theme  of  many  a  stern  re- 
buke :  "  What  a  reproach,"  said  he,  "  to  hear  a  bishop 
asking  persons  to  drink  with  him,  gambling,  shaking 
the  dice,  and  spending  his  whole  time  in  hawking, 
sporting,  hunting,  hallooing  in  the  chase  of  wild  beasts, 
and  sometimes  with  his  feet  in  houses  of  ill-fame. <^ 
.  .  .  O  men,  worthy  of  a  more  signal  retribution  than 
Sardanapalus  himself!" 

Such  was  the  preaching  of  Lefevre.  Farel  listened, 
trembling  with  emotion — received  all  into  his  soul,  and 
went  forward  in  that  new  path  now  suddenly  made 
plain  before  him.  Nevertheless,  there  was  one  arti- 
cle of  his  former  creed  which  he  could  not  as  yet  en- 
tirely relinquish  ;  it  was  the  invocation  of  the  saints. 
The  noblest  minds  have  often  these  lingering  remains 
of  darkness  after  the  light  has  broken  in  upon  them. 
Farel  heard  with  astonishment  the  teacher  declare  that 
Christ  alone  should  be  invoked.  "  Our  religion,"  said 
Lefevre,  "  has  only  one  foundation,  one  object,  one 
head,  Jesus  Christ,  blessed  for  ever  !  he  hath  trodden 
the  winepress  alone.  Let  us  not  then  take  the  name 
of  Paul,  of  A  polios,  or  of  Peter.  The  cross  of  Christ 
alone  opens  heaven,  and  shuts  the  gate  of  hell."  These 
words  wakened  a  struggle  in  the  soul  of  Farel.  On 
the  one  hand,  he  beheld  the  whole  army  of  saints  with 
the  Church — on  the  other,  Jesus  Christ  and  His  preach- 
er. One  moment  he  inclined  to  the  one  side,  the  next 
to  the  other.  It  was  the  last  hold  of  ancient  error,  and 
his  final  struggle.  He  hesitated  ;  still  clinging  to  those 
venerated  names  before  which  Rome  bends  adoringly. 
At  last  the  decisive  blow  was  struck  from  above ;  the 
scales  fell  from  his  eyes ;  Jesus  was  seen  by  him  as 
the  only  object  of  adoration.  "  From  that  moment," 
said  he,  "  the  Papacy  was  dethroned  from  my  mind. 

*  O  ineffabile  commercinm  .  .  .    (Fabri  Comm.  145  verso.) 

f  Inefficax  est  ad  hoc  ipsum  nostra  voluntas,  nostra  electio  ; 
Dei  autem  electio  efficacissima  et  potentissimn,  &c.  Ubid.  p. 
89.  verso.) 

|  Si  de  corpore  Christi,  divinitate  repletus  es.  (Fabri 
Comm.  p.  176  verso.) 

5)  Et  virgunculas  gremio  tenentem,  cum  suaviis  sermones 
miscentem.  (Ibid.  p.  203.) 


DE  VIO  REFUTED— HAPPY  CHANGE  IN  FAREL— PIERRE  OLIVETAN. 


327 


I  began  to  abhor  it  as  devilish,  and  the  holy  word  of 
God  held  the  supreme  place  in  my  heart.''* 

Events  in  the  great  world  accelerated  the  advance 
of  Farel  and  his  friends.  Thomas  De  Vio,  who  was 
subsequently  opposed  at  Augsburg  against  Luther, 
having  contended  in  a  printed  work  that  the  Pope  was 
absolute  monarch  of  the  Church,  Louis  XII.  called  the 
attention  of  the  University  of  Paris  to  the  work  in  Fe- 
bruary, 1512.  James  Allman,  one  of  the  youngest  of 
its  doctors,  a  man  of  rare  genius  and  unwearied  appli- 
cation, read,  at  one  of  the  meetings  of  the  faculty  of 
theology,  a  refutation  of  the  Cardinal's  arguments, 
which  drew  forth  the  plaudits  of  the  assembly.! 

What  must  have  been  the  effect  of  such  discussions 
on  the  young  disciples  of  Lefevre  1  Could  they  hesi- 
tate when  the  university  itself  manifested  an  impa- 
tience of  the  Papal  yoke  1  If  the  main  body  were  in 
motion,  should  not  they  be  skirmishing  at  the  advanced 
posts  1  "  It  was  necessary,"  said  Farel,  "  that  the 
Papal  authority  should  be  very  gradually  expelled  from 
my  mind,  for  the  first  shock  did  not  bring  it  down."+ 
He  contemplated  the  abyss  of  superstitions  in  which 
he  had  been  plunged  ;  standing  on  its  brink,  he  again 
surveyed  its  gloomy  depths,  and  drew  back  with  a  feel- 
ing of  terror  : — Oh !"  ejaculated  he,  "  what  horror  do 
I  feel  for  myself  and  my  sins  when  I  think  of  the  past.§ 
Lord,"  he  continued, "  would  that  my  soul  served  Thee 
with  living  faith  after  the  example  of  thy  faithful  ser- 
vants !  Would  that  I  had  sought  after  and  honoured 
Thee  as  I  have  yielded  my  heart  to  the  mass,  and  serv- 
ed that  magic  wafer, — giving  all  honour  to  that !" 
Grieving  over  his  past  life,  he  with  tears  repeated 
those  words  of  St.  Augustine,  "  I  have  come  too  late 
to  the  knowledge  of  Thee  !  too  late  hare  I  begun  to 
love  Thee  !" 

Farel  had  found  Christ ;  and  safe  in  harbour  he  re- 
posed in  peace  after  the  storm.  II 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  everything  appears  to  me  to 
wear  a  different  aspect. IT  Scripture  is  elucidated, 
prophecy  is  opened,  and  the  epistles  carry  wonderful 
light  into  my  soul.**  A  voice  before  unknown — the 
voice  of  Christ,  my  shepherd  and  my  teacher,  speaks  to 
me  with  power."tt  So  great  was  the  change  in  him 
that  "  instead  of  the  murderous  heart  of  a  ravening 
wolfe,"  he  came  back,  as  he  himself  tells  us,  "  like  a 
gentle  and  harmless  lamb,  with  his  heart  entirely  with- 
drawn from  the  Pope  and  given  to  Jesus  Christ. "JJ 

Escaped  from  so  great  an  evil,  he  turned  toward  the 
Bible, <^  and  applied  himself  zealously  to  the  acquire- 
ment of  Greek  and  Hebrew.lllt  He  was  unremitting 
in  his  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  esteeming  them 
more  and  more,  and  daily  receiving  more  light.  He 
continued  to  resort  to  the  churches  of  the  established 
worship — but  what  did  he  there  hear  1 — Responses 
and  chauntings  innumerable,  words  spoken  without 
understanding.  ITU"  Often,  when  standing  among  the 
throng  that  gathered  round  an  image  or  an  altar,  he 
would  exclaim, — "  Thou  alone  art  God  !  Thou  alone 
art  wise!  Thou  alone  art  good  !*t  Nothing  should 


*  Farel.    A  tous  seigneurs. 

}  Crevier  Hist,  de  PUniversite  de  Paris,  v.  p.  81. 

|  Farel.    A  tous  seigneurs.  $  Ibid. 

||  Animus  per  raria  jactatus,  verum  nactus  portum,  soli 
haesit.  (Fare  Galeoto.) 

f  Jam  rerun  nova  facies.     (Ibid.) 

*»  Notior  scriptura,  apertiores  prophetae,  lucidiores  apostoli 
(Ibid.) 

ft  Agnila  pastoris,  magistri  et  praaceptoris  Christ i  YOX. 
(Ibid.) 

J{  Farel.  A  tous  seigneurs.  < 

^  Lego  sacra  ut  causam  inveniam.     (Farel  Galeoto.) 

!l!|  Life  of  Farel.     MSS.  of  Geneva  and  of  Choupard. 

HIT  Clamores  multi,  cantiones  innumerae.  (f  fsil  Galeoto, 
MSS.  Neufchatel.) 

*f  Veretu  solus  Deus  !     (Ibid.) 


be  taken  away — nothing  added  to  thy  holy  law — for 
Thou  only  art  the  Lord,  and  it  is  Thou  alone  who 
claimest  and  has  a  right  to  our  obedience." 

Thus  all  human  teachers  were  brought  down  from 
the  height  to  which  his  imagination  had  raised  them, 
and  he  recognized  no  authority  but  God  and  his  word. 
The  doctors  of  Paris,  by  their  persecution  of  Lefevre, 
had  long  since  lost  all  place  in  his  esteem  ;  but  ere 
long  Lefevre  himself,  his  well-beloved  guide  and  coun- 
sellor, was  no  more  to  him  than  his  fellow-man  :  he 
loved  and  venerated  him  as  long  as  he  lived — but  God 
alone  was  become  his  teacher, 

Of  all  the  Reformers,  Farel  and  Luther  are  the  two 
best  known  to  us  in  their  early  spiritual  history,  and 
most  memorable  for  the  struggles  they  had  to  pass 
through.  Earnest  and  energetic,  men  of  conflict  and 
strife,  they  bore  the  brunt  of  many  an  onset  before 
they  were  permitted  to  be  at  peace.  Farel  is  the  pi- 
oneer of  the  Reformation  in  Switzerland  and  in  France. 
He  threw  himself  into  the  wood,  and  with  his  axe 
cleared  a  passage  through  a  forest  of  abuses.  Calvin 
followed,  as  Luther  was  followed  by  Melancthon,  re- 
sembling him  in  his  office  of  theologian  and  "  master- 
builder."  These  two  men, — who  bear  some  resem- 
blance to  the  legislators  of  antiquity,  the  one  in  its 
graceful,  the  other  in  its  severer  style, — settle,  estab- 
lish, and  give  laws  to  the  territory  won  by  the  two 
former.  And  yet,  if  Farel  reminds  us  of  Luther,  we 
must  allow  that  it  is  only  in  one  aspect  of  the  latter 
that  we  are  reminded  of  him.  Luther,  besides  his  su- 
perior genius,  had,  in  all  that  concerned  the  Church,  a 
moderation  and  prudence,  an  acquaintance  with  past 
experience,  a  comprehensive  judgment,  and  even  a 
power  of  order,  which  was  not  found  in  an  equal  de- 
gree in  the  Reformer  of  Dauphiny. 

Farel  was  not  the  only  young  Frenchman  into  whose 
soul  a  new  light  was,  at  this  time,  introduced.  The 
doctrines  which  flowed  from  the  lips  of  the  far-famed 
doctor  of  Etaples  fermented  among  the  crowd  of  his 
hearers  ;  and  in  his  school  were  formed  and  trained  the 
bold  men  who  were  ordained  to  struggle,  even  to  the 
very  foot  of  the  scaffold.  They  listened,  compared, 
discussed,  and  argued  with  characteristic  vivacity.  It 
is  a  probable  conjecture,  that  we  may  number  among 
the  handful  of  scholars  who  then  espoused  the  Truth, 
young  Pierre  Olivetan,  born  at  Noyon,  at  the  end  of 
the  fifteenth  century,  who  afterwards  revised  Lefevre's 
translation  of  the  Bible  into  French,  and  seems  to  have 
been  the  first  who  so  presented  the  doctrines  of  the 
Gospel  as  to  draw  the  attention  of  a  youth  of  his  fami- 
ly, also  a  native  of  Noyon,  who  became  the  most  dis- 
tinguished of  all  the  leaders  of  the  Reformation.* 

Thus,  before  1512,  at  a  time  when  Luther  had  made 
no  impression  on  the  world,  but  was  taking  a  journey 
to  Rome  on  some  business  touching  the  interest  of 
some  monks,  and  when  Zwingle  had  not  even  begun 
to  apply  himself  in  earnest  to  Biblical  studies,  but  was 
traversing  the  Alps,  in  company  with  the  confederated 
forces,  to  fight  under  the  Pope's  banner, — Paris  and 
France  heard  the  sound  of  those  life-giving  truths, 
whence  the  Reformation  was  destined  to  come  forth 
— and  there  were  found  souls  prepared  to  propagate 
those  sounds,  who  received  them  with  holy  affection. 
Accordingly,  Theodore  Beza,  in  speaking  of  Lefevre 
of  Etaples,  observes,  that  "  it  was  he  who  boldly  began 
the  revival  of  the  holy  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  :"t  and  he 
remarks,  that, "  as  in  ancient  times,  the  school  of  Iso- 
crates  had  the  reputation  of  furnishing  the  best  orators, 
so,  from  the  lecture- rooms  of  the  doctor  of  Etaples, 

*  Biographic  Universelle,  Article  Olivetan.  Histoire  du 
Calviuisme,  par  Maimbourg,  53. 

i  F.t  purioris  religionis  instaurationem  fortiter  agressus 
( bez»o  icones.) 


328        PRIORITY  OF  THE  REFORMATION— TWO  CLASSES  OF  COMBATANTS. 


went  forth  many  of  the  best  men  of  the  age,  and  of  the 
Church."* 

The  Reformation  was  not,  therefore,  in  France,  an 
importation  from  strangers  ;  it  took  its  birth  on  the 
French  territory.  Its  seed  germinated  in  Paris — its 
earliest  shoots  were  struck  in  the  University  itself, 
that  ranked  second  in  power  in  Romanized  Christen- 
dom. God  deposited  the  first  principles  of  the  work 
in  the  kindly  hearts  of  some  inhabitants  of  Picardy  and 
Dauphiny,  before  it  had  begun  in  any  other  country  of 
the  globe.  The  Swiss  Reformation,  was,  as  we  have 
seen,f  independent  of  that  of  Germany.  The  work 
sprung  up  in  these  different  countries  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  without  communication  between  them,  as 
in  a  field  of  battle,  the  various  divisions  that  compose 
the  army  are  seen  in  motion  at  the  same  instant,  al- 
though the  order  to  advance  has  not  passed  from  one 
to  the  other,  but  all  have  heard  the  word  of  command 
proceeding  from  a  higher  authority.  The  time  had 
come — the  nations  were  ripe,  and  God  was  every- 
where begining  the  revival  of  His  Church. 

If  we  regard  dates,  we  must  then  confess  that  neither 
to  Switzerland  nor  to  Germany  belongs  the  honour  of 
having  been  first  in  the  work,  although,  hitherto,  only 
those  countries  have  contended  for  it.  That  honour 
belongs  to  France.  This  is  a  fact  that  we  are  the 
more  careful  to  establish,  because  it  has  possibly,  until 
now,  been  overlooked.  Without  dwelling  upon  the  in- 
fluence exercised  by  Lefevre,  directly  or  indirectly,  on 
many  persons,  and  especially  on  Calvin — let  us  con- 
sider that  which  he  had  on  one  of  his  disciples,  Farel, 
himself — and  the  energy  of  action  which  that  servant 
of  God  from  that  hour  manifested.  Can  we,  after  that, 
withhold  our  conviction  that  even  though  Zwinglc  and 
Lulher  should  never  have  been  born,  there  would  still 
have  been  a  movement  of  reformation  in  France  1  It 
is,  of  course,  impossible  to  estimate  how  far  it  might 
have  extended :  we  must  even  acknowledge  that  the 
report  of  what  was  passing  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Rhine  and  the  Jura,  afterward  accelerated  and  ani- 
mated the  progress  of  the  reformers  of  France.  But 
it  was  they  who  were  first  awakened  by  the  voice  of 
that  trumpet  which  sounded  from  heaven  in  the  six- 
teenth century,  and  who  were  earliest  in  the  field,  on 
foot,  and  under  arms. 

Nevertheless,  Luther  is  the  great  workman  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  and,  in  the  fullest  import  of  the  term, 
the  first  reformer.  Lefevre  is  not  as  complete  as  Cal- 
viu,  Farcl,  or  Luther.  There  is  about  him  that  which 
reminds  us  of  Wittemberg — of  Geneva — but  a  some- 
thing beside,  that  tells  us  of  the  Sorbonnc  ;  he  is  the 
foremost  Catholic  in  the  reformation  movement,  and 
the  latest  of  the  reformers  in  the  Catholic  movement. 
To  the  last,  he  continues  a  go-between — a  mediator — 
not  well  understood  ;  reminding  us  that  there  is  some 
connexion  between  the  old  things  and  the  new,  which 
might  seem  forever  separated  as  by  a  great  gulf.  Re- 
pulsed and  persecuted  by  Rome,  he  yet  holds  to  Rome, 
by  a  slender  thread  which  he  is  unwilling  to  sever. 
Lefevre,  of  Etaples,  has  a  place  to  himself  in  the  the- 
ology of  the  sixteenth  century :  he  is  the  connecting- 
link  between  ancient  and  modern  times,  and  the  man 
in  whom  the  theology  of  the  middle  ages  passed  into 
the  theology  of  the  Reformation. 

Thus,  in  the  University,  the  truth  was  already  work- 
ing. Dot  the  Reformation  was  not  to  be  an  affair  of 
college  life.  It  was  to  establish  its  power  among  the 
great  ones  of  the  earth,  and  to  have  some  witnesses 
even  at  t.he  king's  court. 

The  young  Francis  of  Angouleme,  cousin-german 

*  Sic  ex  Stap  ulensis  auditorio  prjestantissimi  viri  plurimi 
prodierint.  (Ibid.) 
f  Vol.  ii.  p.  267. 


and  son  in-law  to  Louis  XII.,  succeeded  him  on  the 
throne.  His  manly  beauty  and  address,  his  courage, 
and  his  love  of  pleasure,  rendered  him  the  most  ac- 
complished knight  of  his  time.  His  ambition,  how- 
ever, rose  higher,  it  was  his  aim  to  be  a  great  and  even 
a  gracious  prince  ;  provided  only  that  all  should  bend 
before  his  sovereign  authority.  Valour,  taste  for  liter- 
ature and  gallantry,  are  three  words  that  well  express 
the  genius  of  Francis,  and  of  the  age  in  which  he 
figured.  At  a  somewhat  later  period,  the  like  features 
appear  in  Henry  IV.,  and  Louis  XIV.  These  princes 
wanted  that  which  the  gospel  communicates ;  and, 
although  there  has  been  no  time  when  the  nation  did 
not  contain  in  it  the  elements  of  sanctity  and  of  Chris- 
tian elevation,  it  may  be  said  that  these  great  monarchs 
of  mo<lern  France  have,  in  a  measure,  stamped  upon 
that  people  the  impress  of  their  own  characters,  if  it 
be  not  more  correct  to  say  that  they  themselves  were 
the  faithful  expression  of  the  character  of  the  nation 
over  which  they  presided.  If  the  evangelic  doctrine 
had  entered  France  under  the  auspices  of  the  most 
famed  of  the  Valois  princes,  it  might  have  brought 
with  it  to  the  nation  that  which  France  has  not — a 
spiritual  turn  of  mind,  a  Christian  purity,  and  an  intel- 
ligence in  heavenly  things,  which  would  have  been  the 
completion  of  the  national  character  in  what  most  con- 
tributes to  the  strength  and  greatness  of  a  people. 

It  was  under  the  rule  of  Francis  I.  that  Europe,  as 
well  as  France,  passed  from  the  middle  ages  to  the 
range  of  modern  history.  It  was  then  that  that  new 
world,  which  was  bursting  forth  on  all  sides,  when  that 
prince  ascended  the  throne,  grew  and  entered  upon 
possession.  Two  different  classes  of  men  exercised 
an  influence  in  moulding  the  new  order  of  society. 
On  the  one  hand  were  the  men  of  faith,  who  were  also 
men  of  wisdom  and  moral  purity,  and  close  to  them, 
the  writers  of  the  court — the  friends  of  this  world  and 
its  profligacy — who,  by  their  licentious  principles,  con- 
tributed to  the  depravation  of  morals  as  much  as  tho 
former  served  to  reform  them. 

If,  in  the  days  of  Francis  the  First,  Europe  had  not 
witnessed  the  rise  of  the  Reformers,  but  had  been  giv- 
en up  by  God's  righteous  judgment  to  the  uncontrol- 
led influence  of  unbelieving  innovators,  her  fate  and 
that  of  Christianity  had  been  decided.  The  danger 
seemed  great.  For  a  considerable  time,  the  two  class- 
es of  combatants,  the  opposers  of  the  Pope,  and  those 
who  opposed  the  Gospel,  were  mixed  up  together; 
and  as  both  claimed  liberty,  they  seemed  to  resort  to 
the  same  arms  against  the  same  enemies.  In  the 
cloud  of  dust  raised  on  the  field,  an  unpractised  eyo 
could  not  distinguish  between  them.  If  the  former 
had  allowed  themselves  to  be  led  away  by  the  latter, 
all  would  have  been  lost.  Those  who  assailed  the 
hierarchy  passed  quickly  into  extremes  of  impiety, 
urging  on  the  people  to  a  frightful  catastrophe.  The 
Papacy  itself  contributed  to  bring  about  that  catastro- 
phe, accelerating  by  its  ambition  and  disorders  the 
extinction  of  any  truth  and  life  still  left  in  the  Church. 

But  God  called  forth  the  Reformation, — and  Chris- 
tianity was  preserved.  The  Reformers,  who  had  shout- 
ed for  liberty,  were,  ere  long,  heard  calling  to  obedi* 
ence.  The  very  men  who  had  cast  down  that  throne 
whence  the  Roman  Pontiff  issued  his  oracles,  pros- 
trated themselves  before  the  '  word  of  the  Lord.' 
Then  was  seen  a  clear  and  definite  separation,  and 
war  was  declared  between  the  two  divisions  of  the  as- 
sailants. The  one  party  had  desired  liberty  that  them- 
selves might  be  free, — the  others  had  claimed  it  for 
the  word  of  God.  The  Reformation  became  the 
most  formidable  antagonist  of  that  incredulty  to  which 
Rome  can  show  leniency.  Having  restored  liberty  to 
the  Church,  the  Reformers  restored  religion  to  socie 


MARGARET  OF  VALOIS— THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BIBLE. 


320 


ty ;  and  this  last  was,  of  the  two,  the  gift  most 
Deeded. 

The  various  votaries  of  incredulty,  for  a  while, 
hoped  to  reckon  among  their  number  Margaret  of  Va- 
lois,  Duchess  of  Alencon,  whom  Francis  loved  with 
especial  tenderness,  and,  as  Brantome  informs  us, 
used  to  call  his  "  darling."*  The  same  tastes  and  ge- 
neral information  distinguished  both  brother  and  sister, 
Of  fine  person,  like  Francis,  Margaret  united  to  those 
eminent  qualities,  which  in  their  combination  consti- 
tutes remarkable  characiers,these  gentler  virtues  which 
win  the  affection.  In  the  gay  world,  the  festive  enter- 
tainment, the  royal,  the  imperial  court,  she  shone  in 
queenly  splendour,  charming  and  captivating  all  hearts. 
Passionately  fond  of  literature,  and  gifted  with  no  ordi- 
nary genius,  it  was  her  delight  to  shut  herself  in  her 
apartment,  and  there  indulge  in  the  pleasures  of  re- 
flection, study,  and  meditation.  But  her  ruling  desire 
was  to  do  good  and  prevent  evil.  When  ambassa- 
dors from  foreign  countries  had  presented  themselves 
befrwo  the  king,  they  were  accustomed  afterwards  to 
pay  their  respects  to  Margaret,  and  "  they  were  .great- 
ly pleased  with  her,"  observes  Brantome,  "and  re- 
turning to  their  homes  noised  abroad  the  fame  of  her  :" 
and  he  adds,  that  "  the  king  would  often  hand  over  to 
her  matters  of  importance,  leaving  them  for  her  to 
tlecide."t 

This  celebrated  princess  was  through  life  distin- 
guished by  her  strict  morals  ;  but  whilst  many  who 
carry  austerity  on  their  lips,  indulge  laxity  in  con- 
duct, the  very  reverse  of  this  was  seen  in  Margaret. 
Blameless  in  conduct,  she  was  not  altogether  irre- 
proachable in  the  use  of  her  pen.  Far  from  wonder- 
ing at  this,  we  might  rather  wonder  that  a  woman, 
dissolute  as  was  Louisa  of  Savoy,  should  have  a 
daughter  so  pure  as  Margaret.  Attending  the  court,  in 
its  progress  through  the  provinces,  she  employed  her- 
self in  describing  the  manners  of  -the  time^  and  espe- 
cially those  of  the  priests  and  monks,  "  On  these  -oc- 
casions," says  Brantome,  "  I  often  used  to  hear  her 
recount  stories  to  my  grandmother,  who  constantly  ac- 
companied her  in  her  litter,  as  dame  -de  honneur,  and 
had  charge  of  her  writing  desk."f  According  to  some, 
we  have  here  the  origin  of  the  Heptameron  ;  but  more 
recent  and  esteemed  critics  have  satisfied  themselves 
that  Margaret  had  no  hand  in  forming  that  col/ection, 
i«  some  parts  chargeable  with  worse  than  levity,  but 
that  it  was  the  work  of  Desperiers,  her  gentleman  of 
the  chamber.^ 

This  Margaret,  so  charming,  so  fuM  of  wit,  and  liv- 
ing in  so  polluted  an  atmosphere,  was  to  be  one  -of  the 
first  won  over  by  the  religious  impulse  just  then  com- 
municated to  France.  Sut  how,  in  the  centre  of  so 
profane  a  Court,  and  amid  the  sounds  of  its  licentious 
gossip,  was  the  Duchess  of  Alencon  to  be  reached  by 
the  Reformation  1  Her  soul,  led  to  look  to  heaven, 

*  Vie  des  Dames  Illustrcs,  p.  333,  Hayo,  1740. 

f  Tbid.  p.  337. 

j  Vie  des  Dames  IHustres,  p.  346. 

$  This  is  proved  by  one  of  the  most  distinguished  critics  of 
the  age,  M.  Ch,  Nodier,  in  the  Reveu  des  Deux  Mondts,  t.  xx. 
wherein  he  observes,  p.  350—"  Desperiers  is  in  reality  and 
almost  exclusively  author  of  the  Heptameron.  I  scruple  not 
to  say  1  have  no  doubt  of  this,  and  entirely  coincide  in  the 
Opinion  of  Bouistuan,  who,  solely  on  this  account,  omitted 
and  witheld  the  name  of  the  Queen  of  Navarre."  If,  as  I 
think,  Margaret  did  compose  some  tales,  doubtless  the  most 
harmless  of  those  in  the  Heptaraeron,  it  must  have  been  in 
her  youth— just  alter  her  marriage  with  the  Duke  of  A<len- 
con  (1509.)  The  circumstances  mentioned  by  Brantome,  p. 
346,  that  the  king's  mother,  and  Madame  de  Savoy,  "  being 
young,"  wished  to  "  imitate"  Margaret,  is  a  proof  of  this.  To 
this  may  be  added  the  evidence  of  De  Thou,  who  says,  "Si 
tempora  et  juvenilem  aetatem  in  qua  scriptum  est  respicias, 
•non  prorsus  damnandum,  certe  gravitate  tantse  heroinse  et 
•extrema  vita  minus  dignum."  (I'huanus,  t.  vi.  p.  11?7.) 
Brantome  and  De  Thou  ace  two  unobjectionable  witnesses. 
jfc 


was  conscious  of  wants  that  the  Gospel  alone  could 
meet.  Grace  can  act  in  every  place,  and  Christianity, 
— which  even  before  an  apostle  had  appeared  in  Rome, 
had  some  followers  among  the  household  of  Narcissus, 
and  in  the  palace  of  Nero,* — in  the  day  of  its  revival 
rapidly  made  its  way  to  the  court  of  Francis  the  First. 
There  were  ladies  and  lords  who  spoke  to  that  prin- 
cess concerning  the  things  of  faith,  and  the  sun  which 
was  then  rising  on  France,  sent  forth  one  of  its  earli- 
est beams  on  a  man  of  eminent  station,  by  whom  its 
light  was  immediately  reflected  on  the  Duchess  of 
Alencon. 

Among  the  most  distinguished  lords  of  the  court 
was  Count  William  of  Montbrun,  a  son  of  Cardinal 
Briconnet  of  St.  Malo,  who  had  entered  the  church  on 
his  being  left  a  widower.  Count  William,  devoted  to 
studious  pursuits,  himself  also  took  orders,  and  was 
bishop,  first  of  Lodeda,  and  afterwards  of  Meaux. 
Although  twice  sent  on  an  embassy  to  Rome,  he  re- 
turned to  Paris  unseduced,  by  the  attractions  and 
splendours  of  Leo  X. 

At  the  period  of  his  return  to  France,  a  ferment 
was  beginning  to  manifest  itself.  Farel,  as  Master  of 
Arts,  was  lecturing  in  the  college  of  Cardinal  Lemoine, 
one  of  the  four  leading  establishments  of  the  faculty  of 
Theology  of  Paris,  ranking  equal  with  the  Sorbonne. 
Two  countrymen  of  Lefevre,  Arnaud  and  Gerard 
Roussel,  and  some  others,  enlarged  this  little  circle  of 
free  -and  noble  spirits.  Briconnet,  who  had  so  recent- 
ly quitted  the  festivals  of  Rome,  was  all  amaeement  at 
what  had  been  doing  in  Paris  during  his  absence. 
Thirsting  after  the  truth,  he  renewed  his  former  inter- 
course with  Lefevre,  and  soon  passed  precious  hours 
in  company  with  the  Doctor  or  the  Sorbonne,  Farel, 
the  two  Roussels,  and  the-ir  friends,  t  Full  of  humili- 
ty, the  illustrious  prelate  sought  instruction  from  the 
very  humblest,  but,  above  all,  he  sought  it  of  the  Lord 
himself.  "  I  am  all  dark,"  said  he,  "  waiting  for  the 
grace  of  the  divine  favour,  from  which  my  sins  have 
banisheJ  me."  His  mind  was  as  if  dazzled  by  the 
glory  of  the  Gospel.  His  eye-lids  sunk  under  itsun- 
beard-of  brightness.  "  The  eyes  of  all  mankind,"  ex- 
claimed he,  "  cannot  take  in  the  whole  light  of  that 
sun1."} 

Lefevre  had  commended  the  Bishop  to  the  Bible,  and 
pointed  to  it  as  that  guiding  clue  which  ever  brings  us 
back  to  the  original  truth  of  Christianity,  such  as  it 
existed  before  all  schools,  sects,  ordinances  and  tradi- 
tions, and  as  that  mighty  agent,  by  means  of  which  the 
religion  of  Jesus  Christ  is  renewed  in  power.  Bri9on- 
net  read  the  Scriptures.  "  Such  is  the  sweetness  of 
that  heavenly  manna,"  said  he,  "  that  it  never  cloys , 
the  more  we  taste  of  it,  the  more  we  long  for  it."$ 
The  simple  and  prevailing  truth  of  SALVATION  filled 
him  with  joy ;— he  had  found  Christ,  he  had  found 
God  himself.  "  What  vessel,"  he  exclaimed,  "  is  ca- 
pable of  receiving  into  it  such  vast  and  inexhaustible 
grace.  But  the  mansion  expands  with  our  desire  to 
lodge  the  good  guest.  FAITH  is  the  quarter-master 
who  alone  can  find  room  for  him,  or  rather  who  alone 
can  enabte  us  to  dwell  in  him."  But,  at  the  same 
time,  the  excellent  bishop  grieved  to  see  that  living 
word  which  the  Reformation  gave  te  the  world  so 
slighted  at  court,  in  the  city,  and  among  the  people ; 
and  he  exclaimed,  "  Singular  innovation,  so  worthy  of 
acceptation,  and  yet  so  ill  received  !" 

*  Romans  xvi.  11  ;  Phil.  iv.  22. 

f  Histoire  de  la  Revocat.  de  Peditt  de  Nantes,  vol.  i.  p.  7. 
Maimbourg.  Hist,  du  Calv.  p.  12. 

t  These  expressions  of  Briconnet  are  from  a  manuscript  In 
the  Royal  Library  at  Paris— entitled  Letters  of  Margaret 
Queen  of  Navarre,  and  which  is  marked  S.  F.  337.  I  shall 
more  than  once  have  occasion  to  quote  this  manuscript, 
which  I  found  not  easy  to  decipher.  I  quote  the  language  of 
the  time.'  fcJbid. 


330 


MARGARET  EMBRACES  THE  GOSPEL— THE  DUCHESS  OF  ALENCON. 


Thus  did  evangelic  truth  open  itself  a  way  into  the 
midst  of  the  frivolous,  dissolute,  and  literary  court  of 
Francis  I.  Several  of  those  who  composed  it,  and  en- 
joyed the  unlimited  confidence  of  that  prince — as 
John  du  Bellay,  du  Bude,  Cop,  the  court  physician, 
and  even  Petit,  the  king's  confessor,  seemed  favour- 
able to  the  views  of  Briqonnet  and  Lefevre.  Francis, 
who  loved  learning,  and  invited  to  his  court  scholars 
"  suspected  "  of  Lutheranistn,  "  in  the  thought,"  ob- 
serves Erasmus,  "  that  he  should,  in  that  way,  adorn 
and  illustrate  his  reign  better  than  he  could  do  by  tro- 
phies, pyramids,  or  buildings  " — was  himself  persuad- 
ed by  his  sister,  by  Bri^onnet,  and  the  learned  of  his 
court  and  colleges.  He  was  present  at  the  discussions 
of  the  learned — enjoyed  listening  to  their  discourse  at 
table — and  would  call  them  "  his  children."  He  as- 
sisted to  prepare  the  way  for  the  word  of  God  by  found- 
ing professorships  of  Hebrew  and  Greek — accordingly, 
Theodore  Beza  thus  speaks,  when  placing  his  portrait 
at  the  head  of  the  Reformers — "  pious  reader  !  do  not 
shudder  at  the  sight  of  this  adversary.  Ought  not  he 
to  have  his  part  in  this  honour  who  banished  barbarism 
from  society,  and  with  firm  hand  established  in  its 
place  the  cultivation  of  three  languages,  and  profitable 
studies,  that  should  serve  as  the  portals  of  that  new 
structure  that  was  shortly  to  arise  ?"* 

But  there  was  at  the  court  of  Francis  I.  one  soul 
which  seemed  prepared  for  the  reception  of  the  evan- 
gelic doctrines  of  the  teachers  of  Etaples  and  of  Meaux. 
Margaret,  hesitating  and  not  knowing  on  what  to  lean 
in  the  midst  of  the  profligate  society  that  surrounded 
her,  sought  somewhat  on  which  her  soul  might  rest — 
and  found  it  in  the  Gospel.  She  turned  toward  that 
fresh  breath  of  life  which  was  then  reviving  the  world, 
and  inhaled  it  with  delight  as  coming  from  heaven. 
She  gathered  from  some  of  the  ladies  of  her  court  the 
teaching  of  the  new  preachers.  Some  there  were  who 
lent  her  their  writings,  and  certain  little  books,  called, 
in  the  language  of  the  time,  "  tracts ;"  they  spoke  of 
"  the  primitive  church,  of  the  pure  word  of  God,  of  a 
worship  '  in  spirit  and  truth,'  of  a  Christian  \iberiy  that 
rejected  the  yoke  of  human  traditions  and  supersti- 
tions, that  it  might  adhere  singly  to  God."t  It  was 
not  long  before  this  princess  sought  interviews  with 
Lefevre,  Farel,  and  Roussel.  Their  zeal,  piety,  and 
walk,  and  all  she  saw  of  them,  impressed  her — but  it 
was  her  old  friend  the  bishop  of  Meaux,  who  was  her 
guide  in  the  path  of  faith 

Thus,  at  the  glittering  court  of  Francis  I. — and  in 
the  dissolute  house  of  Louisa  of  Savoy,  was  wrought 
one  of  those  conversions  of  the  heart  which  in  every 
age  are  the  work  of  the  word  of  God.  Margaret  sub- 
sequently recorded  in  her  poetical  effusions  the  various 
emotions  of  her  soul  at  this  important  period  of  her 
life,  and  we  may  there  trace  the  course  by  which  she 
was  led.  We  see  that  the  sense  of  sin  had  taken 
strong  hold  upon  her,  and  that  she  bewailed  the  levity 
with  which  she  had  once  viewed  the  scandals  of  the 
court. 

Is  there,  in  the  abyss's  lowest  depth, 
A  punishment  that  equals  e'en  the  tenth 
Of  all  my  sin. 

The  corruption  which  she  had  so  long  overlooked 
now  that  her  eyes  were  opened,  was  seen  in  every 
thing  about  her — 

Surely  in  me  there  dwells  that  evil  root 
That  putteth  forth  in  others  branch  and  fruit.J 

»  Neque  rex  potentissime  pudeat . . .  quasi  atrienses  huju 
aedis  futuras.      (Be/ie  Icones.)     Disputationibus  eorum  ipse 
interfuit.     (Flor  Raemundi,  Hist  de  ortu  haeresum.  vii.  p.  2.' 

f  Maimbourg.  Hist,  du  Calvinisune,  p.  16. 

I  Marguerites  de  la  Marguerite  des  princesses  (Lyon,  1647.) 


But  amid  all  the  horror  she  felt  at  her  own  state  of 
eart,  she  yet  acknowledged  that  a  God  of  Peace  had 
manifested  himself  to  her  soul — 

Thou,  O  my  God.  hast  in  thy  Grace  come  down 
To  me,  a  worm  of  earth,  who  strength  had  none.* 

And  soon  a  sense  of  the  love  of  God  in  Christ  was 
ihed  abroad  in  her  heart : — 

My  Father,  then— but  what  a  Father  thou, 
Unseen — that  changes!  not — endless  of  days, 

Who  graciously  fbrgivest  all  my  sins, 
Dear  Lord  Emanuel,  behold  me  fall 
Low  at  thy  sacred  feet,  a  criminal ! 

Pity  me,  Father— perfect  in  Thy  love  ! 
Thou  art  the  sacrifice,  and  mercy-seat, 
And  Thou  hast  made  for  us  an  offering  meet, 

Well  pleasing  unto  Thee,  oh,  God,  above. f 

Margaret  had  found  the  faith,  and  her  soul  in  its 
oy  gave  free  expression  to  holy  delight — 

Oh  Saviour,  Jesus— oh  most  holy  Word 

Only  begotten  of  thy  Father,  God 

The  First— the  Last— for  whom  all  things  were  made — 

3ishop  and  King,  set  over  all  as  Head, 

Through  death,  from  fear  of  death  thou  sett'st  us  free  ! 
taking  us  children  by  our  Faith  in  Thee, 
Righteous  and  pure  and  good  by  failh  to  be. 
^aith  plants  our  souls  in  innocence  again, 
?aith  makes  us  kings  with  Christ  as  kings  to  reign, 
'aith  gives  us  all  things  in  our  Head  to  gain.} 

From  that  time  a  great  change  was  seen  in  tho 
Duchess  of  Alenc.on — 

Though  poor,  untaught,  and  weak  I  be, 
Yet  feel  I  rich,  wise,  strong  in  thee.$ 

However,  the  power  of  sin  was  not  yet  subdued — 
Her  soul  was  still  conscious  of  a  want  of  blessed  har- 
mony, and  of  a  degree  of  inward  struggle  that  per- 
plexed her — 

By  spirit  noble,  yet  by  nature  serf, 

Of  heavenly  seed— begotten  here  on  earth  ; 

God's  temple — wherein  things  unclean  find  room  ; 

Immortal— and  yet  hastening  to  the  tombj 

Though  fed  by  God— in  earthly  pastures  roving ; 

Shrinking  from  ill— yet  sinful  pleasures  loving  ; 

Cherishing  truth— yet  not  to  truth  conformed  ; 

Long  as  ray  days  on  earth  prolonged  are, 

Life  can  have  nought  for  me  but  constant  war.H 

Margaret,  seeking  in  nature  symbols  that  might  ex- 
press the  felt  want  and  desire  of  her  soul,  chose  for 
her  emblem,  says  Brantome,  the  marigold,  "  which  in, 
its  flower  and  leaf  has  most  resemblance  to  the  sun, 
and,  turning,  follows  it  in  its  course. "1T  She  added  this 
device,  Non  inferiora  secutus — I  seek  not  things 
below— i^,-»jgnifying,"  continues  the  annalist  of  the 
court,  "  that  her  actions,  thoughts,  purposes,  and  de- 
sires were  directed  to  that  exalted  Sun,  namely,  God— - 
whereupon  it  was  suspected  that  she  had  imbibed  the 
religion  of  Luther."** 

In  fact,  the  princess  shortly  &ftar  experienced  the 
truth  of  that  word,  "  All  that  will  live  godly  in  Jesus, 
Christ  shall  suffer  persecution."  The  new  opinions 
of  Margaret  were  the  subject  of  conversation  at  court, 
and  great  was  the  sensation — What  1  could  the  king's 
sister  be  one  of  those  people  J  For  a  moment  it 

tome  ter,  Miroir  de  llame  pecheresse,  p.  15.  The  copy  I  have 
used  seems  to  have  belonged  to  the  Queen  of  Navarre  her. 
self,  and  some  notes  appearing*  in  it  are,  it  is  said,  in  her  hand- 
writing. It  is  now  in  the  possession  of  a  friend. 

*  Ibid.  p.  18,  19.  f  Ibid-  Oraison  a  J.  C.,  p.  143. 

J  Marguerites  de  la  Marguerite  des  princesses  (Lypn,  1647,) 
tome  ler,  Miroir  de  1'ame  pecheresse,  p.  15.  Discord  de 
1'Esprit  et  de  la  chair,  p.  73. 

^  Ibid.    Miroir  de  1'ame,  p.  22. 

)i  Ibid.    Discord  de  1'Esprit  et  de  la  chair,  p.  71. 

IT  Vies  des  Femmes  Illustres,  p.  33. 

»*  Ibid.  p.  33. 


MARGARET'S  DANGER— OPPOSITION  TO  THE  GOSPEL— THE  CONCORDAT.      331 

many  the  anger  of  the  enemy  came  upon  them  from, 
other  states,  where  the  storm  had  been  gathering.  In 
Switzerland,  it  fell  upon  them  from  the  neighbouring 
cantons ;  but  in  France  it  everywhere  met  them  face 
to  face.  A  dissolute  woman  and  a  rapacious  minister 
then  took  the  lead  in  the  long  lino  of  enemies  of  the 
Reformation. 

Louisa  of  Savoy,  mother  of  the  king  and  of  Marga- 
ret, notorious  for  her  gallantries,  of  overbearing  temper, 
and  surrounded  by  ladies  of  honour,  whose  licentious- 
ness was  the  beginning  of  a  long  train  of  immorality 
and  infamy  at  the  court  of  France,  naturally  ranged 
herself  on  the  side  of  the  opposers  of  God's  word. 
What  rendered  her  more  formidable  was  the  almost 
unbounded  influence  she  possessed  over  her  son.  But 
the  gospel  encountered  a  still  more  formidable  enemy 
in  Anthony  Duprat,  Louisa's  favourite,  and,  by  her  in- 
fluence, elevated  to  the  rank  of  chancellor  of  the  king- 
dom. This  man,  whom  a  contemporary  historian  has 
designated  as  the  most  vicious  of  bipeds,*  was  yet 
more  noted  for  avarice  than  Louisa  for  her  dissolute 
life.  Having  begun  with  enriching  himself  by  pervert- 
ing justice,  he  sought  to  add  to  his  wealth  at  the  cost 
of  religion  ;  and  took  orders  with  the  view  to  get  pos- 
session of  the  richest  benefices. 

Luxury  and  avarice  thus  characterized  these  two 
persons,  who,  being  both  deroted  to  the-  Pope,  sought 
to  cover  the  infamy  of  their  lives  by  *he  shedding  the 
blood  of  heretics.! 

One  of  their  first  steps  was  to  hand  over  the  kingdom 
to  the  ecclesiastical  supremacy  of  the  Pope.  The  king, 
after  the  battle  of  Marignan,  bad  a  meeting  with  Leo 
X.,  at  Bologna,  and  in  that  place  was  concluded  the 
memorable  Concordat,  in  virtue  of  which  those  two 
princes  divided  between  them  the  spoils  of  the  Church. 
They  annulled  the  supremacy  of  Councils  to  ascribe 
supremacy  to  the  Pope,  and  took  from  the  respective 


might  hare  been  feared  that  Margaret's  disgrace  was 
certain.  But  the  king,  who  loved  his  sister,  affected 
to  disregard  the  rumour  of  the  court.  The  conduc 
of  Margaret  gradually  dissipated  the  opposition — 
4*  Every  one  loved  her,  for,"  says  Brantome,  "  she  was 
very  kind,  gentle,  condescending,  and  charitable,  very 
easy  of  access,  giving  away  much  in  alms,  overlook- 
ing no  one,  but  winning  all  hearts  by  her  gracious 
deportment."* 

In  the  midst  of  the  corruption  and  frivolity  of  that 
age,  the  mind  may  joyfully  contemplate  this  elect  soul, 
which  the  grace  of  God  gathered  from  beneath  all  its 
pomps  and  vanities.  But  her  feminine  character  held 
her  back.  If  Francis  the  First  had  had  the  convic 
tions  of  his  sister,  we  can  hardly  doubt  he  would  have 
followed  them  out.  The  fearful  heart  of  the  princess 
trembled  at  the  thought  of  facing  the  anger  of  her  king. 
She  continued  to  fluctuate  between  her  brother  and 
her  Saviour,  unwilling  to  give  up  either  one  or  the 
other.  We  do  not  recognise  in  her  the  Christian  who 
has  attained  to  the  perfect  liberty  of  God's  children, 
but  the  exact  type  of  those  souls — at  all  times  so  nu- 
merous, and  especially  among  her  sex — who,  drawn 
powerfully  to  look  to  heaven,  have  not  strength  suffi- 
cient to  disengage  themselves  entirely  from  the  bond- 
age of  earth. 

Nevertheless,  such  as  she  is  here  seen,  her  appear- 
ance is  a  touching  vision  on  the  stage  of  history 
Neither  Germany  nor  England  presents  such  a  pic 
ture  as  Margaret  of  Valois.  She  is  a  star,  slightly 
clouded,  doubtless,  but  shedding  a  peculiarly  soft 
light.  And  at  the  period  we  are  contemplating,  her 
light  even  shines  forth  with  much  radiance.  Not  till 
afterward,  when  the  angry  glance  of  Francis  the  First 
denounces  a  mortal  hatred  of  the  gospel,  will  his  sister 
spread  a  veil  over  her  holy  faith.  But  at  this  period 
she  is  seen  erect  in  the  midst  of  a  degraded  court,  and 
moving  in  it  as  the  bride  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  re- 
spect paid  to  her,  the  high  opinion  entertained  of  her 
understanding  and  character,  pleads,  more  persuasively 
than  any  preacher,  the  cause  of  the  gospel  at  the  court 
of  France,  and  the  power  of  this  gentle  female  influ 
ence  gains  admission  for  the  new  doctrines.  Perhaps 
it  is  to  this  period  we  may  trace  the  disposition  of  the 
noblesse  to  embrace  Protestantism.  If  Francis  had 
followed  in  the  steps  of  his  sister,  if  the  entire  nation 
had  opened  its  arms  to  Christianity,  the  conversion  of 
Margaret  might  have  been  the  channel  of  salvation  to 
Fraqce.  But  while  the  nobles  welcomed  the  gospel, 
the  throne  and  the  people  adhered  faithful  to  Rome — 
and  a  day  came  when  it  was  a  source  of  heavy  mis- 
fortune to  the  Reformation  to  have  numbered  in  its 
ranks  the  names  of  Navarre  and  Conde. 

Thus  already  had  the  gospel  made  converts  in 
France.  Lefevre,  Bric.onnet,  Farel,  Margaret,  in  Paris, 
joyfully  followed  in  the  direction  of  the  movement. 
It  seemed  as  if  Francis  himaelf  were  more  attracted  by 
the  light  of  learning,  than  repelled  by  the  purity  of 
the  gospel.  The  friends  of  God's  word  encouraged 
the  most  hopeful  anticipations,  and  were  pleasing  them- 
selves with  the  thought  lhat  the  heavenly  doctrine 
would  spread,  uoresisted,  through  their  country,  when 
suddenly  a  powerful  opposition  was  concocted  in  the 
Sorbonne,  and  at  the  court.  France,  which  was  to 
signalize  herself  among  Roman  Catholic  states  by 
three  centuries  of  persecution  of  the  reformed  opinions, 
arose  against  the  Reformation  with  pitiless  sternness. 
If  the  17th  century  was,  in  France,  an  age  of  bloody 
persecution,  the  16th  was  that  of  cruel  struggle.  In 
no  country,  perhaps,  have  those  who  professed  the  re- 
formed faith,  met  with  more  merciless  opposers  on  the 
very  spots  where  they  brought  the  gospel.  In  Ger- 
*  Vies  des  Femmes  Illustres,  p.  341. 


churches  the  power  of  nominating  to  bishoprics,  to  give 
that  power  to  the  king.  After  this,  Francis  the  First, 
supporting  the  Pontiffs  train,  repaired  publicly  to  the 
cathedral  church  of  Bologna  to  ratify  the  treaty.  Sen- 
sible of  the  iniquity  of  the  Concordat,  he  turned  to  Du- 
prat, and  whispered  in  his  ear,  "  There  is  enough  in 
this  to  damn  us  both."t  But  what  signified  to  him 
salvation — money  and  the  Pope's  alliance  was  what 
he  sought. 

The  Parliament  met  the  Concordat  with  a  vigorous 
resistance.  The  king,  after  keeping  its  deputies  wait- 
ng  for  some  weeks  at  Amboise,  sent  for  them  one  day 
nto  his  presence  ;  upon  rising  from  the  table,  said  : 
'  There  is  a  king  in  France,  and  I  don't  at  all  under- 
stand that  any  men  should  form  a  senate  after  the  man- 
ner of  Venice."  He  then  ordered  them  to  depart  be- 
"ore  sunset.  From  such  a  prince,  Gospel  liberty  had 
nothing  to  hope.  Three  days  afterward,  the  Grand 
Chamberlain  la  Tremauille  appeared  in  Parliament, 
and  directed  that  the  Concordat  should  be  enregistered. 

On  this,  the  University  was  in  motion.  On  the  18th 
of  March,  1518,  a  solemn  procession,  at  which  were 
resent  the  whole  body  of  students  and  bachelors  in 
,heir  corps,  repaired  to  the  church  of  St.  Catherine  of 
Scholars,  to  implore  God  to  preserve  the  liberties  of 
the  church  and  kingdom. §  "  The  halls  of  the  different 
colleges  were  closed,  strong  bodies  of  students  went 
rmed  through  the  streets,  threatening,  and  in  some  in- 
tances  maltreating,  consequential  persons,  engaged 
rarsuant  to  the  king's  directions,  in  making  known  the 
Concordat,  and  carrying  it  into  effect. "||  However, 
n  the  result,  the  University  allowed  the  compact  to  be 

*  Bipedum  omnium  nequissimus.    (Belcarius,  xv.  p.  435.) 

t  Sismondi.  Hist,  des  Francois,  xvi.  p.  337. 

+  Mathieu,  i.  p.  16. 

^Crevier,  v  p.  110. 

a  Fontaine,  Hist.  Cathol.     Paris,  1662,  p.  16. 


332         VIOLENCE  OF  BEDA— LOUIS  BERQUIN— FANATICISM  AND  TIMIDITY. 


fulfilled,  but  without  rescinding  the  resolutions  in  which 
their  opposition  to  it  was  declared  :  and  "  from  that 
time,"  says  the  Venetian  ambassador,  Correro,  "  the 
king  began  to  give  away  bishoprics  at  the  solicitation 
of  the  ladies  of  the  court,  and  to  bestow  abbey  lands 
on  his  soldiers,  so  that  at  the  French  court  bishoprics 
and  abbeys  were  counted  meichandise,  just  as  among 
the  Venetians  they  trade  in  pepper  and  cinnamon.'7* 

While  Louisa  and  Duprat  were  taking  their  mea- 
sures to  root  up  the  Gospel  by  the  destruction  of  the 
Gallican  Church,  a  powerful  party  of  fanatics  were 
gathering  together  against  the  Bible.  The  truth  of  the 
Gospel  has  ever  had  two  great  adversaries — the  profli- 
gacy of  the  world,  and  the  fanaticism  of  the  priests. 
The  scholastic  Sorbonne,  and  a  shameless  court,  were 
now  about  to  go  forward  hand  in  hand  against  the  con- 
fessors of  Jesus  Christ.  The  unbelieving  Sadducees, 
and  the  hypocritical  Pharisees,  in  the  early  days  of  the 
Gospel,  were  the  fiercest  enemies  of  Christianity,  and 
they  are  alike  in  every  age.  At  their  head  stood  Noel 
Bedier,  commonly  called  Beda,  a  native  of  Picardy, 
syndic  of  the  Sorbonne,  who  had  the  reputation  of  the 
first  blusterer  and  most  factious  disturber  of  his  time. 
Educated  in  the  dry  maxims  of  scholastic  morality,  he 
had  grown  ap  in  the  constant  hearing  of  the  theses  and 
antitheses  of  his  college,  and  had  more  veneration  for 
the  hair-breadtL  distinctions  of  the  school,  than  for 
God's  word,  so  lhat  his  anger  was  readily  excited 
whenever  any  one  \entured  to  give  utterance  to  other 
thoughts.  Of  a  restless  disposition,  that  required  con- 
tinually to  be  engaged  in  pursuit  of  new  objects,  he 
was  a  torment  to  all  about  him  ;  his  very  element  was 
trouble ;  he  seemed  born  for  contentio'n  ;  and  when 
adversaries  were  not  at  hand,  he  would  fall  upon  his 
friends.  Boastful  and  impetuous,  he  filled  the  city 
and  the  university  with  the  noise  of  his  disputation — 
with  his  invectives,  against  learning  and  the  innova- 
tions of  that  age — as  also  against  those,  who,  in  his 
opinion,  did  not  sufficiently  oppose  them.  Some  laugh- 
ed, others  gave  ear  to  the  fierce  talker,  and  in  the  Sor- 
bonne his  violence  gave  him  the  mastery.  He  seemed 
to  be  ever  seeking  some  opponent,  or  some  rictim  to 
drag  to  the  scaffold — hence,  before  the  "  heretics  "  be- 
gan to  show  themselves,  his  imagination  had  created 
them,  and  he  had  required  that  the  vicar-general  of 
Paris,  Merlin,  should  be  brought  to  the  stake,  on  the 
charge  of  having  defended  Origen.  But  when  he 
caught  sight  of  the  new  teachers,  he  bounded  like  a 
wild  beast  that  suddenly  comes  within  view  of  its  un- 
suspecting pray.  "  There  are  three  thousand  monks 
in  one  Beda,"  remarked  the  wary  Erasmus.f 

Yet  his  violence  injured  the  cause  he  laboured  to 
advance.  "  What !  can  the  Romish  Church  rest  for 
her  support  on  such  an  Atlas  as  that  ?t  Whence  all 
this  commotion  but  from  the  insane  violence  of  Beda  ?" 
was  the  reflection  of  the  wisest. 

In  truth,  the  invectives  that  terrified  the  weak,  revolt- 
ed nobler  minds.  At  the  court  of  Francis  the  First, 
was  a  gentleman  of  Artois,  by  name,  Louis  Berquin, 
about  thirty  years  of  age,  who  was  never  married.  The 
purity  of  his  life,$  his  accurate  knowledge,  which  had 
won  him  the  appellation  of  "  most  learned  among  the 
noble,"||  his  ingenuousness,  compassion  for  the  poor, 
and  unbounded  attachment  to  his  friends,  distinguished 
him  above  his  equals.lf  The  rites  of  the  Church,  its 
fasts,  festivals,  and  masses,  had  not  a  more  devout  ob- 

»  B-aumer.  Gcsch.  Europ.  i.  p.  270. 

t  In  uno  Beda  sunt  tria  millia  monachorum.  (Erasmi  Epp. 
p.  373.) 

iTalibus  AtlantibusnititnrEcclesiaromana.    (Ibid.  p.  113.) 

\  Ut  ne  rumuscuhis  quidem  impudicitice  sit  unquam  iu  ilium 
exortus.  (Erasmi  Epp.  p.  1278.) 

||  Gail  lard  Hist,  de  Francois  ler. 

f  Mirere  benignus  in  egenos  et  amicos.     (Er.  Epp.  p.  1288.) 


server,*  and  he  held  in  especial  horror  everything  hereti- 
cal. His  devotion  was  indeed  the  wonder  of  the  whole 
court. 

It  seemed  as  if  nothing  could  have  given  this  man 
a  turn  in  favour  of  the  Reformation  ;  nevertheless, 
some  points^>f  his  character  disposed  him  toward  the 
Gospel.  He  had  a  horror  of  all  dissimulation,  and 
having  himself  no  ill-will  to  any,  he  could  not  endure 
injustice  in  others.  The  overbearing  violence  of  Beda, 
and  other  fanatics,  their  shuffling  and  persecutions  dis- 
gusted his  generous  heart,  and,  as  he  was  accustomed 
in  every  thing  to  go  heartily  to  work,  he,  ere  long, 
wherever  he  came,  in  the  city  and  at  court,  even  in  the 
first  circles,f  was  heard  rehemently  protesting  against 
the  tyranny  of  those  doctors,  and  pursuing  into  their 
very  holes  the  pestilent  hornets  who  then  kept  the 
world  in  fear.t 

But  this  was  not  all :  for  his  opposition  to  injustice 
led  Berquin  to  enquire  after  the  truth.  He  resolved 
on  knowing  more  of  that  Holy  Scripture  so  dear  to  the 
men  against  whom  Beda  and  his  party  were  conspiring  ; 
and  scarcely  had  he  begun  to  study  it,  than  his  heart 
was  won  by  it.  Berquin  immediately  sought  the  inti- 
macy of  Margaret,  Briconnet,  Lefevre,  and  those  who 
loved  the  truth  ;  and  in  their  society  tasted  of  the  pur- 
est delight.  He  became  sensible  that  he  had  some- 
thing else  to  do  than  to  stand  up  against  the  Sorbonne, 
and  gladly  would  he  have  communicated  to  all  France 
the  new  convictions  of  his  soul.  With  this  view  he 
sat  down  to  compose  and  translate  into  French  certain 
Christian  writings.  To  him  it  seemed  as  if  every  one 
must  confess  and  embrace  the  truth  as  promptly  as  he 
himself  had  done.  The  impatient  zeal  that  Beda 
brought  to  the  service  of  traditions  of  men,  Berquin 
employed  in  the  cause  of  God's  truth.  Somewhat 
younger  than  the  syndic  of  the  Sorbonne,  less  wary, 
less  acute,  he  had  in  his  favour  the  noble  incentive  of 
a  love  of  truth.  Berquin  had  a  higher  object  than  vic- 
tory over  his  antagonist  when  he  stood  up  against  Beda. 
It  was  his  aim  to  let  loose  the  flood  of  truth  among  his 
countrymen.  On  this  account,  Theodore  Beza  ob- 
serves, "  that  if  Francis  the  First  had  been  another 
Elector,  Berquin  might  have  come  down  to  us  as 
another  Luther. "§ 

Many  were  the  obstacles  in  his  way.  Fanaticism- 
finds  disciples  everywhere — it  is  a  contagious  infection. 
The  monks  and  ignorant  priests  sided  with  the  syndic 
of  the  Sorbonne.  An  esprit  de  corps  pervaded  their 
whole  company,  governed  by  a  few  intriguing  and  fa- 
natical leaders,  who  knew  how  to  work  upon  the  cre- 
dulity and  vanity  of  their  colleagues,  and  by  that  means* 
communicate  to  them  their  own  animosities.  At  all 
their  meetings  these  persons  took  the  lead,  lording  k 
over  others,  and  reducing  to  silence  the  timid  and  mo- 
derate of  their  body.  Hardly  could  they  propose  any- 
thing, when  this  party  exclaimed,  in  an  overbearing 
tone,  "  Now  we  shall  see  who  arc  of  Luther's  fac- 
tion."!! If  the  latter  offered  any  reasonable  suggestion, 
instantly  a  shudder  passed  from  Beda  to  Lecoutnrier, 
Duchesne,  and  the  rest,  and  all  exclaimed,  '*  Why, 
they  are  worse  than  Luther."  The  manoeuvre  an- 
swered their  purpose,  and  the  timid,  who  prefer  quie? 
to  disputation,  and  are  willing  to  give  up  their  own 
opinion  for  their  own  ease — those  who  do  not  under- 
stand the  very  simplest  questions— and,  lastty,  such 

*  Constitutionum  ac  rituum  ecclesiasticorum  observanlissi- 
mus  , .  . .  (Ibid.) 

}  Actes  dcs  Martyrs  de  Crespin,  p.  103. 

I  Ut  maxime  omnium  tune  metuendos  crabones  in  ipsis  co- 
rum  cavis  . .  .  (Bezae  Icoues.) 

§Gallia  fortassis  alterum  esset  Lutherum  nacta.  (Beza? 
Icones.) 

||  Hie  inquiunt,  apparcbit  qui  flint  Lutherans  faction!*, 
(Er.  Epp.  p.  88,) 


THE  THREE  MARIES— THE  KING  AND  THE  SORBONNE 


333 


is  are  easily  turned  round  by  mere  clamour,  were  lee 
away  by  Beda  and  his  followers.  Some  silently,  anc 
some  assenting  aloud,  submitted  to  the  influence  exer- 
cised over  ordinary  spirits  by  one  proud  and  tyrannica 
mind.  Such  was  the  state  of  this  association,  regard 
ed  as  venerable,  and  which,  at  this  time,  was  founc 
among  the  most  determined  opposers  of  the  Christian 
ity  of  the  gospel.  Often  would  one  glance  within  the 
interior  of  such  bodies  suffice  to  enable  us  to  estimate 
at  its  true  value  the  war  they  wage  against  truth. 

Thus  the  university,  which,  under  Louis  XII.,  had 
applauded  the  first  inklings  of  independence  in  Allman, 
abruptly  plunged  once  more,  under  the  guidance  o 
Duprat  and  Louisa  of  Savoy,  into  fanaticism  and  ser 
vility.  If  we  except  the  Jansenists,  and  a  few  others, 
no  where  in  the  Gallican  clergy  do  we  find  a  noble  and 
genuine  independence.  It  has  done  no  more  than 
vibrate  between  servility  to  the  court,  and  servility  to 
the  pope.  If,  under  Louis  XII.  or  Louis  XIV.  we 
notice  some^faint  semblance  of  liberty,  it  is  because 
its  master  in  Paris  was  at  strife  with  its  master  in 
Rome.  Herein  we  have  the  solution  of  the  change 
we  have  noticed.  The  university  and  the  bishops  for- 
get their  rights  and  obligations,  the  moment  the  king 
ceased  to  enjoin  the  assertion  of  them  ! 

Beda  had  long  cherished  ill-will  against  Lefevre. 
The  renown  of  the  doctor  of  Picardy  irritated  and 
ruffled  the  pride  of  his  countrymen,  who  would  gladly 
have  silenced  him.  Once  before,  Beda  had  attacked 
the  doctor  of  Etaples,  and,  having  as  yet  but  little 
discernment  of  the  true  point  of  the  evangelic  doc- 
trines, he  had  assailed  his  colleague  on  a  point  which, 
strange  as  it  must  to  us  appear,  was  very  near  sending 
Lefevre  to  the  scaffold.*  The  doctor  had  asserted 
that  Mary  the  sister  of  Lazarus,  Mary  Magdalene,  and 
the  woman  who  was  a  sinner,  (mentioned  by  Luke  in 
his  seventh  chapter,)  were  three  distinct  persons.  The 
Greek  fathers  had  considered  them  as  distinct,  but  the 
fathers  of  the  Latin  church  had  spoken  of  them  as  one 
and  the  same.  This  shocking  heresy,  in  relation  to 
the  three  Marys,  set  Beda  and  all  his  clique  in  motion. 
Christendom  itself  was  roused.  Fisher,  bishop  of  Ro- 
chester, and  one  of  the  most  eminent  prelates  of  the 
age,  wrote  against  Lefevre,  and  the  whole  church  de- 
clared against  a  judgment  that  is  now  universally  re- 
ceived among  Roman  Catholics  themselves.  Already, 
Lefevre,  condemned  by  the  Sorbonne,  was  prosecuted 
by  the  parliament  on  the  charge  of  heresy,  when  Fran- 
cis I.,  not  sorry  to  have  an  opportunity  of  striking  a 
blow  at  the  Sorbonne,  and  humbling  the  monks,  inter- 
fered and  rescued  him  from  the  hands  of  his  persecu- 
tors. 

Beda,  enraged  at  seeing  his  victim  thus  snatched 
from  his  grasp,  resolved  on  taking  his  next  measures 
more  cunningly.  The  name  of  Luther  was  beginning 
to  be  noised  in  France.  The  reformer,  after  disputing 
against  Eck,  at  Leipsic,  had  agreed  to  acknowledge 
the  universities  of  Erfurth,  and  of  Paris,  as  his  judges. 
The  zeal  displayed  by  the  university  against  the  Con- 
cordat doubtless  led  him  to  expect  an  impartial  verdict. 
But  a  change  had  taken  place,  and  the  more  decided 
their  opposition  to  the  encroachments  of  Rome,  the 
more  did  the  members  of  the  University  seem  to 
have  it  at  heart  to  make  proof  of  their  orthodoxy. 
Beda,  accordingly,  found  them  quite  disposed  to  enter 
into  all  his  views. 

On  the  20th  of  January,  1520,  the  questor  of  France 
purchased  twenty  copies  of  Luther  s  conference  with 
Eck,  to  distribute  them  among  the  members  of  the 
commission  charged  to  make  its  report  on  the  matter. 
More  than  a  year  was  taken  up  in  the  investigation. 
The  German  Reformation  wa3  begining  to  produce  a 
»  Gaillard  Hist,  de  Francois  ler.  iv  p.  288. 


strong  sensation  in  France.  The  several  universities 
then  truly  Catholic  institutions,  resorted  to  from  all 
parts  of  Christendom,  maintained  a  more  direct  and 
intimate  intercourse,  on  topics  of  theology  and  philo- 
sophy, between  Germany,  and  France,  and  England, 
than  exists  in  our  own  day.  The  report,  brought  to 
Paris,  of  Luther's  labours  and  success,  strengthened 
the  hands  of  such  men  as  Lefevre,  Briconnet,  and  Fa- 
rel.  Some  of  the  divines  of  the  Sorbonne  were  struck 
by  the  truths  they  saw  in  the  writings  of  the  Wittem- 
berg  monk.  Now  and  then  a  bold  confession  was 
heard  ;  but  there  was  also  fierce  opposers.  "  Eu- 
rope," says  Crevier,  was  all  expectation  of  the  deci- 
sion of  the  University  of  Paris."  The  issue  seemed 
doubtful,  but  Beda  finally  triumphed.  In  April,  1521, 
the  University  decreed  that  the  writings  of  Luther 
should  be  publicly  committed  to  the  flames,  and  that 
the  author  should  be  compelled  to  retract. 

Further  measures  were  resolved  on.  Luther's  dis- 
ciples had  crossed  the  Rhine,  even  before  his  writings. 
Maimbourg  tells  us  that  the  University  was  quickly 
filled  with  foreigners,  who,  having  obtained  a  reputation 
on  the  strength  of  some  knowledge  of  Hebrew,  and 
more  of  Greeke,  crept  into  the  houses  of  persons  of 
distinction,  and  took  upon  them  the  liberty  of  explaining 
the  Scriptures.*  The  faculty,  therefore,  sent  a  depu- 
tation to  the  king  to  call  attention  to  these  disorders. 

Francis  the  First,  caring  little  for  theological  dis- 
sensions, was  then  pursuing  the  career  of  his  pleasures. 
Passing  from  one  chateau  to  another,  in  company  with 
his  gentlemen  and  the  ladies  of  his  mother's  and  his 
sister's  court,  he  indulged  in  every  species  of  dissolute 
excess,  out  of  the  range  of  the  troublesome  observation 
of  his  capital.  In  this  way  he  passed  through  Brittany, 
Anjou,  Guienne,  Angoumois,  Poitou,  requiring,  in 
villages  and  forests,  the  same  attention  and  luxury  as 
if  he  had  been  in  the  Chateau  des  Tournelles  at  Pa- 
ris. Nothing  was  heard  of  but  tournaments,  single 
combats,  masquerades,  shows,  and  feastings,  "  such," 
says  Brantome,  "  that  Lucullus  himself  never  saw  the 
like."t 

Suspending  for  a  moment  the  course  of  his  pleasures, 
be  gave  audience  to  the  grave  deputies  of  the  sor- 
bonne  ;  but  he  saw  only  men  of  learning  in  those  whom 
the  faculty  designated  as  heretics  ;  and  should  a  prince, 
who  boasts  of  having  eclipsed  and  put  hors  de  page  the 
kings  of  France,  stoop  to  humour  a  clique  of  fanatical 
doctors.  "  I  command  you,"  was  his  answer,  "  not 
to  molest  those  people.  To  persecute  those  who  teach 
us  would  prevent  able  scholars  from  settling  in  our 
country  ."t 

The  deputation  quitted  the  royal  presence  in  a  rage. 
What  then  is  to  be  the  consequence  1  The  danger  is 
every  day  greater,  already  the  heretical  sentiments  are 
counted  as  those  of  the  best  informed  classes, — the 
devouring  flame  is  circulated  between  the  rafters, — 
he  conflagration  will  presently  burst  forth,  and  the 
itructure  of  the  established  faith  will  fall,  with  sudden 
crash,  to  the  earth. 

Beda  and  his  party,  failing  to  obtain  the  king's  per- 
mission to  resort  to  scaffolds,  had  recourse  to  more 
quiet  persecution.     There  was  no  kind  of  annoyance 
o  which  the  evangelic  teachers  were  not  subjected. 
3very  day   brought   with  it  new  rumours  and  new 
charges.     The  aged  Lefevre,  wearied  out  by  these  ig- 
orant  zealots,  panted  for  quiet.    The  pious  Briconnet, 
/ho  was  unremitting  in  his  attentions  to  the  Doctor 
f  Elaples,§  offered  him  an  assylnm.     Lefevre,  there- 

*  Histoire  du  Calvinisme,  p.  10. 
t  Vic  des  Homines  Illustres,  i.  p.  326. 
t  Maimbourg,  p.  II. 

^  Pro  innumeris  beneficiis,  pro  tantis  ad  studia  commodiB 
Epist.  dedicatoria  Epp.  Pauli.) 


334    THE  BISHOP  AND  CURATES— MARTIAL  MAZURIER— MARGARET'S  SORROWS 


fore,  took  leave  of  Paris,  and  repaired  to  Meatjx.  It 
was  a  first  advantage  gained  by  the  enemies  of  the 
Gospel,  and  thenceforth  it  was  seen  that  if  the  party 
cannot  enlist  the  civil  power  on  its  side,  it  has  ever  a 
secret  and  fanatic  police,  which  it  knows  how  to  use, 
so  as  to  insure  the  attainments  of  its  ends. 

Thus  Paris  was  beginning  to  rise  against  the  Re- 
formation, and  to  trace,  as  it  were,  the  enclosure 
which,  for  three  centuries,  was  to  bar  the  entrance  of 
the  Reformation.  God  had  appointed,  that  in  Paris 
itself  its  first  glimmering  should  appear ;  but  men 
arose  who  hastily  extinguished  it ; — the  spirit  of  the 
sixteen  chiefs  were  already  working,  and  other  cities 
in  the  kingdom  were  about  to  receive  that  light  which 
the  capital  itself  rejected. 

BrJ9onnet,  on  returning  to  his  diocese,  there  mani- 
fested the  zeal  of  a  Christian  and  of  a  bishop.  He 
visited  all  the  parishes,  and  having  called  together  the 
deans,  curates,  vicars,  church- wardens,  and  principal 
parishioners,  he  made  inquiries  respecting  the  teaching 
and  manner  of  life  of  the  preachers.  "  At  the  time  of 
the  gathering,"  they  replied,  "  the  Franciscans  of 
Meaux  sally  forth  ;  a  single  preacher  goes  over  four 
or  five  parishes  in  one  day  ;  repeating  as  many  times 
the  same  sermon,  not  to  feed  the  souls  of  his  hearers, 
but  to  fill  his  belly,  and  enrich  his  convent.*-  The 
scrip  once  replenished,  the  object  is  answered  ;  the 
preaching  is  at  an  end,  and  the  monks  are  not  seen 
again  in  the  churches  until  begging  time  comes  round 
again.  The  only  thing  these  shepherds  attend  to  is 
the  shearing  of  their  rlocks."t 

The  majority  of  the  curates  lived  upon  their  incomes 
at  Paris.  "  Oh !"  exclaimed  the  pious  bishop,  on 
finding  the  presbytery  he  had  come  to  visit  deserted, 
"  must  we  not  regard  those  who  forsake  the  service  of 
Christ,i  traitors  to  him  ?"  Briqonet  resolved  to  ap- 
ply a  remedy  to  these  evils,  and  convoked  a  synod  of 
all  his  clergy  for  the  13th  of  October,  1519.  But 
these  worldly  priests,  who  gave  but  little  heed  to  the 
remonstrances  of  their  bishop,  and  for  whom  Paris 
possessed  so  many  attractions,  took  advantage  of  a 
custom,  by  virtue  of  which  they  were  allowed  to  sub- 
stitute one  or  more  vicars,  to  look  after  their  flocks  in 
their  absence.  Out  of  a  hundred  and  twenty-seven 
vicars,  Bri^onnet,  upon  examination,  found  only  four- 
teen of  whom  he  could  approve. 

Earthly -minded  curates,  imbecile  vicars,  monks  whose 
God  was  their  belly,  such,  then,  was  the  state  of  the 
church.  Bri^onnet  forbade  the  pulpit  to  the  Francis- 
cans,^ and,  being  persuaded  that  the  only  method  of 
supplying  able  ministers  in  his  diocese,  was  himself  to 
train  them,  he  determined  to  found  a  school  of  theology 
at  Meaux,  under  the  superintendence  of  pious  and 
learned  doctors.  It  became  necessary  to  look  around 
for  such  persons.  Beda,  however,  supplied  him  with 
them. 

This  fanatic  and  his  troop  continued  their  efforts, 
and  complaining  bitterly  against  the  government  for 
tolerating  the  new  teachers,  declared  they  would  wage 
war  against  their  doctrines  without,  and  even  against 
its  orders.  Lefevre  had  indeed  quitted  the  capital  ; 
but  were  not  Farel  and  his  friends  still  there  1  Farel, 
it  is  true,  did  not  preach,  for  he  was  not  in  priests' 
orders  ;  but  in  the  university,  in  the  city,  with  profes- 
sors, priests,  students,  and  citizens,  he  boldly  main- 
tained the  cause  of  the  Reformation.  Others,  embold- 

*  Eo  solum  doceri  qua;  ad  ccenobium  illorum  ac  ventrem 
explendum  pertinerent.  (Acta  Mart.  p.  334.) 

f  MS.  de  Meaux.  I  am  indebted  to  M.  Ladeveze,  pastor  of 
Meaux,  for  the  communication  of  a  copy  of  this  MS.  preserved 
in  that  city. 

i  MS.  de  Meaux. 

^  Eis  in  uni versa  diocosi  sua  praedicationem  interdixit. 
(Act  Mart.  p.  334.) 


ened  by  his  example,  circulated  more  freely  the  word 
of  God.  Martial  Mazurier,  president  of  St.  Michael's 
college,  and  distinguished  as  a  preacher,  unsparingly 
depicted  the  disorders  of  the  time,  in  the  darkest  and 
yet  the  truest  colours,  and  it  seemed  scarce  possible  to- 
withstand  the  force  of  his  eloquence.*  The  rage  of 
Beda,  and  those  divines  who  acted  with  him,  was  at 
its  height.  "  If  we  suffer  these  innovators,"  said 
Beda,  "  they  will  spread  through  our  whole  company, 
and  there  will  be  an  end  of  our  teaching  and  tradition, 
as  well  as  of  our  places,  and  the  respect  France  and 
all  Christendom  have  hitherto  paid  us." 

The  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne  were  the  stronger 
party.  Farel,  Mazurier,  Gerard  Roussel,  and  his 
brother  Arnaud,  soon  found  their  active  service  every 
where  counteracted.  The  Bishop  of  Meaux  pressed 
his  friends  to  rejoin  Lefevre — and  these  worthy  men, 
persecuted  and  hunted  by  the  Sorbonne,  and  hoping 
to  form  with  Briconnet  a  sacred  phalanx  for  the  triumph 
of  truth,  accepted  the  bishop's  invitation,  and  repaired 
to  Meaux.t  Thus  the  light  of  the  Gospel  was  gradu- 
ally withdrawn  from  the  capital  where  Providence  had 
kindled  its  first  sparks.  "  This  is  the  condemnation 
that  light  has  come  into  the  world,  and  men  love  dark- 
ness rather  than  light,  because  their  deeds  are  evil"^ 
It  is  impossible  not  to  discern  that  Paris  then  drew  down 
upon  it  that  judgment  of  God  which  is  here  conveyed 
in  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Margaret  of  Valois,  successively  deprived  of  Bricon- 
net, Lefevere,  and  their  friends,  found  herself  alone  in 
the  centre  of  Paris,  and  of  the  dissolute  court  of  Fran- 
cis I.  A  young  princess,  sister  to  her  mother,  Philibert, 
of  Savoy,  lived  on  intimacy  with  her.  Philibert, 
whom  the  king  of  France  had  given  in  marriage  to 
Julian,  the  magnificent  brother  of  Leo  X.,  in  confirma- 
tion of  the  Concordat,  had,  after  her  nuptials,  repaired 
to  Rome,  where  the  Pope,  delighted  with  so  illustrious 
an  alliance,  had  expended  no  less  than  150,000  ducats 
in  festive  entertainments  on  the  occasion. §  In  1516, 
Julian,  who  then  commanded  the  Papal  forces,  died, 
leaving  his  widow  only  eighteen.  She  attached  her- 
self to  Margaret,  being  attracted  by  the  influence  which 
the  character  and  virtues  of  that  princess  gave  her  over 
all  about  her.  The  grief  of  Philibert  unclosed  her 
heart  to  the  voice  of  religion.  Margaret  imparted  to 
her  the  fruit  of  her  reading,  and  the  widow  of  the  lieu- 
tenant-general of  the  Church  began  to  taste  the  sweet- 
ness of  the  saving  truth.  But  Philibert  had  as  yet  too 
little  experience  to  be  a  support  to  her  friend,  and 
often  did  Margaret  tremble  at  the  thought  of  her  own 
extreme  weakness.  If  the  love  she  bore  her  king, 
and  her  fear  of  offending  him,  led  her  to  any  action 
contrary  to  her  conscience,  instantly  her  soul  was 
troubled,  and  turning  in  sorrow  to  the  Lord,  she  found 
in  him  a  master  and  brother  more  gracious  and  sweet 
to  her  heart  than  Francis  himself.  It  was  in  such  a 
season  she  breathed  forth  those  feelings  : — 

Sweet  Brother,  who,  in  place  of  chastenings  meet, 

Lead'st  gently  home  thy  wandering  sister's  feet, 

Giving  thy  Grace  and  Love  in  recompense 

Of  murmurings,  presumption,  and  offence. 

Too  much,  my  Brother— too  much  hast  thou  done  : 

The  blessing  Is  too  vast  for  such  an  one.|| 

When  she  saw  all  her  friends  retiring  to  Meaux, 
Margaret  turned  after  them  a  look  of  sorrow  from  the 

*  Frequentissimas  de  reformandis  hominum  moribus  con- 
ciones  habuit.  (Lannoi  Navarrse  gymnasii  Hist.  p.  261.) 

t  It  was  the  persecution  which  arose  against  them  in  Paris, 
in  1521,  which  compelled  them  to  leave  that  city.     (Vie 
Farel,  par  Chaupard  ) 

\  St.  John  iii.  19. 

&  Guichemon.  Hist.  gen.  de  Savoie,  11.  p.  180. 

\\  Miroir  de  1'ame  pecheresse.    Marguerites  de  la  Margue 
rite,  &c.  i.  P-  36. 


STRENGTH  UNDER  TRIAL-DEATH  OF  PHILIBERT-ALONE,  NOT  LONELY.     335 


midst  of  the  festivities  of  the  court.  She  seemed  • 
deserted  of  all — her  husband,  the  Duke  of  Alencon,  was 
setting  out  for  the  army— her  young  aunt  was  return- 
ing to  Savoy.  The  Duchess  wrote  to  Bric.onnet,  as 
follows— 

**  Monsieur  de  Meaux, — Knowing  that  God  is  all- 
sufficient,  I  apply  to  you  to  ask  your  prayers  that  He  will 
conduct  in  safety,  according  to  His  holy  will,  M.  d' 
Alenoon,  who  is  about  to  take  his  departure,  by  order 
of  the  king,  as  lieutenant-general  of  his  army,  which  I 
apprehend  will  not  break  up  without  a  war ;  and,  think- 
ing that,  besides  the  public  good  of  the  kingdom,  you 
have  an  interest  in  all  that  concerns  his  and  my  salva- 
tion, I  request  your  spiritual  aid.  To-morrow,  my 
aunt  leaves  Nemours  for  Savoy.  I  must  be  mixed  up 
with  many  things  which  I  dread.  Therefore,  If  yon 
should  know  that  master  Michael  could  make  a  jour- 
ney hither,  it  would  be  a  comfort  to  me,  which  I  desire 
only  for  the  honour  of  God."* 

Michael  Arand,  whose  counsel  Margaret  desired, 
was  one  of  the  members  of  the  evangelical  assembly 
at  Meaux,  who,  at  a  later  period,  exposed  himself  to 
many  dangers  in  preaching  the  Gospel. 

The  pious  princess  trembled  to  see  an  opposition 
gathering  strength  against  the  truth.  Duprat,  and  the 
retainers  of  the  government,  Beda,  and  those  who 
adhered  to  the  University,  inspired  her  with  ter 
ror.  Briconnet  wrote  cheeringly — "  It  is  the  war 
which  the  gentle  Jesus  said  he  was  come  to  send  upon 
earth— the  fire,  the  fierce  fire  which  transforms  earth- 
liness  into  that  which  is  heavenly.  With  all  my  heart 
do  I  desire  to  help  you,  Madam  ;  but  do  not  expect 
from  my  weakness  any  more  than  the  will  to  serve 
you.  Whoever  has  faith,  hope,  love,  has  all  that  is 
necessary,  and  needeth  not  any  other  help  or  protec- 
tion. God  will  be  all — and  out  of  him  we  can  hope 
for  nothing.  Take  with  you  into  the  conflict  thai 
mighty  giant,  unconquerable  Love.  The  war  is 
on  by  Love.  Jesus  requires  to  have  our  hearts  in  his 
presence  :  woe  bcfals  ihe  Christian  who  parts  com- 
pany from  Him.  He  who  is  present  in  person  in  the 
battle  is  sure  of  victory  ;  but  if  the  battle  is  fought 
out  of  His  own  presence,  he  will  often  lose  ground. "^ 
The  Bishop  of  Meaux  was  then  begining  to  expe- 
rience what  it  is  to  contend  for  the  word  of  God.  The 
theologians  and  monks,  irritated  by  the  shelter  he  had 
afforded  to  the  friends  of  the  Reformation,  vehement 
ly  accused  him,  so  that  his  brother,  the  Bishop  of  St 
Malo,  came  to  Paris  to  enquire  into  the  charges 
brought  against  him.}  Hence  Margaret  was  the  more 
touched  by  the  comfortings  which  Briconnet  address 
ed  to  her ;  and  she  answered  by  offering  him  her  as 
eistance. 

"  If  in  any  thing,"  wrote  she,  "  you  think  that  I  can 
be  of  service  to  you  or  your's,  be  assured  that  I  shal 
find  comfort  in  doing  all  I  can.  Everlasting  peace  be 
given  to  you  after  the  long  struggles  you  have  waget 
for  the  faith — in  the  which  cause  pray  that  you  ma; 
live  and  die. 

"  Your  devoted  daughter,  MARGARET."* 

Happy  would  k  have  been  if  Briconnet  had  die 
while  contending  for  the  truth.  Yet  was  he  still  full  o 
zeal.  Philibert,  of  Nemours,  universally  respected  fo 
her  piety,  charity,  and  blameless  life,  read  with  increas 
ing  interest  the  evangelical  writings  sent  her  from  ttm 
to  time  by  the  Bishop  of  Meaux.  <4 1  hare  received  a 
the  tracts  you  forwarded,"  wrote  Margaret  to  Briton 

*  Lettres  de  Marguerite,  reinc  de  Navarre.  (Bibi.  Royal 
Manuscript,  S.  F.  337.  1521.) 

f  Lettres  de  Marguerite,  reine  de  Navarre.  (Bibl.  Royal 
Manuscript,  8.  F.  337.  12  June,  1521.) 

1  MS.  de  Meaux. 

§  MS.  S.  F.  227,  de  la  Bibl.  Royale. 


et,  "  of  which  my  aunt  of  Nemours  has  taken  some, 
tid  I  mean  to  send  her  the  last,  for  she  is  now  in 
avoy,  called  thither  by  her  brother's  mariiage.  Her 
bsence  is  no  small  loss  to  me.  Think  of  my  loneli- 
ess  in  your  prayers."  Unhappily  Philibert  did  not 
ve  to  declare  herself  openly  in  favour  of  the  Reform- 
ion.  She  died  in  1524,  at  the  Castle  of  Virieu  le 
rand,  in  Bugey,  at  the  age  of  twenty-six.*  Marga- 
;t  was  deeply  sensible  of  the  loss  of  one  who  was  to 
er  a  friend,  a  sisters-one  who  could,  indeed,  enter 
.to  her  thoughts.  Perhaps  no  loss  by  death  was  the 
ccasion  of  more  sorrow  to  her,  if  we  except  that  of 
er  brother. 

Alas  !  nor  earth  nor  heaven  above  appears 

To  my  sad  eyes,  so  ceaseless  are  the  tears 

That  from  them  flow.f 

Margaret,  feeling  her  own  weakness  to  bear  up  un- 
cr  her  grief,  and  against  the  seductions  of  the  court, 
pplied  to  Brifonnet  to  exhort  her  to  the  love  of  God. 

"  The  gentle   and  gracious  Jesus,  who  wills,  and 
who  alone  is  able  to  work  that  which  he  wills,  in  his 
nfinite  mercy  visit  your  heart,  and  lead  it  to  love  him 
vith  an  undivided  love.     None  but  He,  Madam,  hath 
ower  to  do  this,  and   we  must  not  seek  light  from 
arknness,  nor  warmth  from  cold.     When  he  draws  he 
indies,  and  by  the  warmth  draws  us  after  him,  en- 
arging  our  hearts.     You  write  to  me  to  pity  you  be- 
ause  you  are  alone  ;  I  do  not  understand  that  word. 
The  heart  that  is  in  the  world,  and  resting  in  it,  is, 
ndeed,  lonely— for  many  and  evil  are  they  who  com- 
pass it  about.     But  she  whose  heart  is  closed  against 
he  world,  and  awake  to  the  gentle  and  gracious  Jesus, 
icr  true  and  faithful  spouse,  is  really  alone,  living  on 
upplies  from  One  who  is  all  to  her  ;    and  yet  not 
ilone,  because  never  left  by  Him  who  replenishes  and 
reserves  all.     I  cannot  and  ought  not  to  pity  such  so- 
itude  as  this,  which  is  more  to  be  prized  than  the 
whole  world  around   us,  from  which  I  am  confident 
hat  God  hath  in  his  love  delivered  you,  so  that  you 
are  no  longer  its  child.     Continue,  Madam,  alone, 
ibiding  in  Him  who  is  your  all,  and  who  humbled  him- 
ielf  to  a  painful  and  ignominious  death. 

«« In  commending  myself  to  your  favour,  I  humbly 
entreat  you  not  to  use  the  words  of  your  last  letters. 
You  are  the  daughter  and  the  spouse  of  God  only.  No 
other  father  hath  any  claim  upon  you.  I  exhort  and 
admonish  you  to  be  to  Him  such  and  so  good  a  daugh- 
ter as  He 'is  to  you  a  father;  and  since  you  cannot 
attain  to  this,  by  reason  that  finite  cannot  compare 
with  infinite,  I  pray  Him  to  strengthen  you,  that  you 
may  love  and  serve  Him  with  all  your  heart.  J 

Notwithstanding  these  counsels,  Margaret  was  not 
vet  comforted.  She  grieved  over  the  loss  of  those 
spiritual  guides  who  had  been  removed  from  her.  The 
new  pastors  set  over  her  to  reclaim  her,  did  not  pos- 
sess her  confidence  ;  arid  notwithstanding  what  the 
bishop  had  said,  she  felt  alone  amidst  the  court,  and 
ail  around  her  seemed  like  a  desolate  wilderness.  She 
wrote  to  Bricjonnet  as  follows  : 

"  As  a  sheep  wandering  in  a  strange  land,  and  turn- 
ing from  her  pastures  in  distrust  of  her  new  shepherds, 
naturally  lifts  her  head  to  catch  the  breeze  from  that 
quarter  of  the  field  where  the  chief  shepherd  once  led 
her  to  the  tender  grass,  just  so  am  I  constrained  to 
implore  your  love.  Come  down  from  your  mountain, 
and  look  in  pity  on  the  blindest  of  all  your  fold- 
astray  among  a  people  living  in  darkness. 

(Signed)  "  MARGUERITE."* 

•  Guichemon.  Hist,  de  lamaison  de  Savoie,  ii.  p.  I81- 

t  Chanson  spirituelle  apres  la  mort  du  Roy.  (Marguerites, 

•'Sic.,  S.  F.,  337,  de  la  Bibl.  Royale,  10th  July. 
.Ibid 


336       BRICONNET'S  PRAYER— SUFFICIENCY  OF  SCRIPTURE— FRENCH  BIBLE. 


Bishop  of  Meaux,  in  his  reply,  taking  up  the 
rison  of  a  wandering  sheep,  under  which  Mar- 


The 

comparison 

garet  had  pictured  herself,  uses  it  to  depict  the  myste- 
ries of  salvation,  under  the  figure  of  a  wood  : 

"The  sheep,"  says  he,  "  on  entering  this  wood  un- 
der the  guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  is  at  once  charmed 
by  the  goodness,  beauty,  height,  length,  breadth,  depth, 
and  refreshing  odours  of  the  forest,  and,  looking  round 
about,  sees  only  Him  in  all,  and  all  in  Him  ;  and,  has- 
tening onward  through  its  green  alleys,  finds  it  so 
sweet,  that  the  way  becomes  life,  joy,  and  consola- 
tion."* 

The  bishop  then  describes  the  sheep  trying  in  vain 
to  penetrate  to  the  bounds  of  the  forest,  (as  a  soul 
would  fathom  the  deep  things  of  God,)  meeting  with 
mountains  which  it  in  vain  endeavours  to  ascend,  be- 
ing stopped  on  all  sides  by  "  inaccessible  heights." 

He  then  shows  the  way  by  which  the  soul,  inquiring 
after  God,  surmounts  the  difficulties,  and  how  the 
sheep  among  all  the  hirelings,  finds  the  "  Chief  Shep- 
herd's nook,"  and  "  enters  on  the  wing  of  contempla- 
tion by  faith ;"  then  all  is  made  plain  and  easy,  and 
she  begins  to  sing,  "  I  have  found  him  whom  my  soul 
loveth." 

Thus  wrote  the  Bishop  of  Meaux.  In  the  fervour 
of  his  zeal  he  would  at  this  time  have  rejoiced  to  see 
France  regenerated  by  the  Gospel. f  Often  would  he 
dwell  especially  on  those  three  individuals  who  seemed 
called  to  preside  over  the  destinies  of  his  country  ; 
namely,  the  king,  his  mother,  and  his  sister.  He 
thought  that  if  the  royal  family  were  but  enlightened, 
the  whole  nation  would  be  so ;  and  that  the  clergy, 
aroused  to  emulation,  would  awake  from  their  death- 
like stupor.  "Madam,"  wrote  he  to  Margaret,  "I 
humbly  pray  God  that  He  will  please,  in  his  goodness, 
to  kindle  a  fire  in  the  hearts  of  the  king,  his  mother, 
and  yourself,  so  that  from  you  three  a  flame  may  go 
forth  through  the  nation,  and  reanimate  especially  that 
class,  which,  by  its  coldness,  chills  all  the  others." 

Margaret  did  not  share  in  these  hopes.  She  says 
nothing  of  her  mother,  nor  yet  of  her  brother.  These 
were  themes  she  did  not  dare  to  touch  ;  but  in  her 
answer  to  the  bishop,  in  January,  1522,  oppressed  at 
heart  by  the  indifference  and  worldliness  of  all  around 
her,  she  said — "  The  times  are  so  cold,  the  heart  so 
frozen  up  ;"  and  she  signed  herself — "  Your  cold- 
Leaned,  hungering  and  thirsting  daughter, 

"MARGARET." 

This  letter  did  not  discourage  Brigonnet,  but  it  put 
him  upon  reflection ;  and  feeling  how  much  he  who 
sought  to  reanimate  others  required  to  be  reanimated 
himself,  he  asked  the  prayers  of  Margaret  and  of  Ma- 
dame de  Nemours.  u  Madam,"  said  he,  with  perfect 
simplicity,  "  I  pray  you  to  re-awaken  by  your  prayers 
the  poor  drowsy  one."t 

And  such,  in  1521,  were  the  expressions  inter- 
changed at  the  court  of  France.  Strange  words, 
doubtless  ;  and  which  now,  after  a  lapse  of  above  three 
centuries,  a  manuscript  in  the  Royal  Library  reveals 
to  us.  Was  this  influence  in  high  places  favourable 
to  the  Reformation,  or  adverse  to  ill  The  spur  of 
truth  was  felt  indeed  at  the  court,  but  perhaps  did  but 
arouse  the  slumbering  beast— exciting  him  to  rage — 
and  causing  him  to  dart  more  furiously  on  the  weak 
ones  of  the  flock. 

In  truth,  the  time  was  drawing  nigh  when  the  storm 
was  to  burst  upon  the  Reformation  ;  but  first  it  was 
destined  to  scatter  some  seeds  and  gather  in  some 
sheaves.  This  city  of  Meaux,  which,  a  century  and  a 

*  MSC.,  8.  F.,  337,  de  la  Bibl.  Royale,  10th  July. 
|  Studio  veritatis  aliis  declarandse  inflammatus.    (Act.  Mar- 
tyrutn,  p.  334. 
t  MSC.  de  la  Bibl.  Royale 


half  later,  was  to  be  honoured  by  the  residence  of  the 
noble  defender  of  the  Gallican  church  against  the  claims 
of  Rome,  was  called  to  be  the  first  town  in  France 
wherein  regenerated  Christianity  should  establish  its 
hold.  It  was  at  this  time  the  field  on  which  the  la- 
bourers profusely  scattered  their  seed,  and  into  which 
they  had  already  put  the  sickle.  Briqonnet,  less  given 
to  slumber  than  he  had  said,  cheered,  watched,  and 
directed  every  thing.  His  fortune  was  equal  to  his 
zeal.  Never  did  any  one  make  a  more  noble  use  of 
his  means — and  never  did  so  noble  a  devotion  promise 
at  first  to  yield  such  abundant  fruit.  Assembled  at 
Meaux,  the  pious  teachers  took  their  measures  thence- 
forward with  more  liberty.  The  word  of  God  was 
not  bound  ;  and  the  Reformation  made  a  great  advance 
in  France.  Lefevre,  with  unwonted  energy,  proclaim- 
ed that  Gospel  with  which  he  would  gladly  have  filled 
the  world — "  Kings,  princes,  nobles,  the  people,  and 
all  nations,"  he  exclaimed,  "  ought  to  think  and  aspire 
only  after  Jesus  Christ.*  Every  priest  should  resem- 
ble that  angel  seen  by  John  in  the  Apocalypse,  flying 
through  the  air,  having  in  his  hand  the  everlasting 
Gospel,  to  preach  to  every  nation,  and  kindred,  ami 
tongue,  and  people.  Draw  near,  ye  pontiffs,  kings, 
and  generous  hearts.  Awake,  ye  nations  to  the  light 
of  the  Gospel,  and  receive  the  breath  of  eternal  life.f 
Sufficient  is  the  word  of  God  !"J 

Such,  in  truth,  was  the  motto  of  the  new  school : 
sufficient  is  the  word  of  God.  The  whole  Reformation 
is  embodied  in  that  truth.  "  To  know  Christ  and  his 
word,"  said  Lefevre,  Roussel,  Farel,  "  is  the  only  true, 
living,  and  universal  theology.  He  who  knows  that 
knows  everything."^ 

The  truth  produced  a  deep  impression  at  Meaux. 
At  first  private  meetings  took  place,  then  conferences, 
and  lastry  the  Gospel  was  proclaimed  in  the  churches. 
But  a  yet  more  formidable  blow  was  struck  against 
the  authority  of  Rome. 

Lefcvere  resolved  to  put  it  in  the  power  of  the 
Christians  of  France  to  read  the  Scriptures.  On 
the  30th  of  October  he  published  the  French  transla- 
tion of  the  four  Gospels  ;  on  the  6th  of  November  the 
remaining  books  of  the  New  Testament ;  and  on  the 
12th  of  November,  1524,  the  whole  of  these  collected 
in  one  volume  at  Meaux;  and  in  1525  a  French  ver- 
sion of  the  Psalms.  H  Thus  in  France,  and  almost  at 
the  same  time  as  in  Germany,  we  have  the  commence- 
ment of  that  publication  of  the  Scriptures,  m  the  ver- 
nacular tongue,  which,  after  a  lapse  of  three  centuries, 
was  to  receive  such  wonderful  development.  In 
France,  as  in  the  countries  beyond  the  Rhine,  the 
Bible  produced  a  decided  effect.  Many  there  were 
who  had  learned  by  experience  that,  when  they  sought 
the  knowledge  of  divine  things,  darkness  and  doubt 
encompassed  them  on  all  sides.  How  many  were 
the  passing  moments — perhaps  even  years — in  which 
they  had  been  tempted  to  regard  the  most  certain 
truths  as  mere  illusions.  We  want  a  ray  from  heaven 
to  enlighten  our  darkness.  Such  was  the  longing 
desire  of  many  souls  at  the  period  of  the  Reformation-. 
With  feelings  of  this  sort  many  received  the  Scriptures 
from  the  hands  of  Lefevre.  They  read  them  in  their 
families  and  in  private.  The  Bible  became  increas- 
ingly the  subject  of  conversation.  Christ  appeared  to 
these  souls,  so  long  misled,  as  the  sun  and  centre  of 
11  discovery.  No  longer  did  they  want  evidence  that 
*  Reges,  principes,  magnates  omnes  et  subinde  omnium  nar 
tionura  populi,  ut  nihil  aliud  cogitent  .  .  .  ac  Christum  .  .  . 
(Fabri  Comment,  in  Evang.  praefat.) 
'  +  Ubivis  gentium  expergiscimini  ad  Evangelii  lucem  .  . 

J  Verbum  Dei  sufficit     (Ibid.) 

§  Haec  est  universa  et  sola  vivifica  Theologia  . . .  Christum 
et  verbum  ejus  esse  omnia.     (Ibid,  in  Ev.  Julian,  p.  271.) 
U  Le  Long.  Biblioth.  sacree,  2  edit.  p.  42- 


THE  PEOPLE  "TURNED  ASIDE  "—CHURCH  OF  LANDOUZY. 


337 


the  Scriptures  was  of  the  Lord :  they  knew  it,  for  it 
had  delivered  them  from  darkness  into  light. 

Such  was  the  course  by  which  some  remarkable 
persons  in  France  were  at  this  time  brought  to  know 
God.  But  there  were  yet  humbler  and  more  ordi- 
nary steps  by  which  many  of  the  poorer  sort  arrived 
at  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  The  city  of  Meaux 
was  almost  entirely  peopled  with  artisans  and  dealers 
in  woollen  cloth.  "  Many,"  says  a  chronicler  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  "  were  taken  with  so  ardent  a  desire 
to  know  the  way  of  salvation,  that  artisans,  carders, 
fullers,  and  combers,  while  at  work  with  their  hands, 
had  their  thoughts  engaged  in  conversation  on  the  word 
of  God,  and  getting  comfort  from  thence.  On  Sunday 
and  on  festivals,  especially,  they  employed  themselves 
in  reading  the  Scriptures,  and  inquiring  into  the  good 
pleasure  of  the  Lord."* 

Britjonnet  rejoiced  to  see  true  piety  take  the  place 
of  superstition  in  his  diocese.  "  Lefevere,  availing  him- 
self of  his  great  reputation  for  learning,"  observes  a 
contemporary  historian, t  "  managed  to  cajole  and  im- 
pose upon  Messire  Guillaume  Briconnet  by  his  speci- 
ous words,  that  he  turned  him  aside  into  gross  error, 
so  that  it  has  been  found  impossible  to  cleanse  the 
town  and  diocese  of  Meaux  from  that  wicked  doctrine 
from  that  time  to  this,  when  it  has  marvellously  spread 
abroad.  The  subverting  of  that  good  bishop  was  a  sad 
event,  for  he  had,  before  that,  been  very  devout  in  his 
service  to  God  and  the  Virgin  Mary."  However,  not 
all  had  been  so  grossly  "  turned  aside,"  to  adopt  the 
expression  of  the  Franciscan.  The  townspeople  were 
divided  in  two  parties.  On  one  side  were  Franciscan 
monks,  and  the  partisans  of  Romanism  :  on  the  other, 
Briconnet,  Lefevre,  Farel,  and  those  who  loved  the 
new  preaching.  A  man  of  low  station,  named  Le- 
clerc,  was  one  of  the  most  servile  adherents  of  the 
monks  ;  but  his  wife  and  his  two  sons,  Peter  and  John, 
had  joyfully  received  the  Gospel ;  and  John,  who  was 
by  trade  a  wool-carder,  soon  attracted  notice  among 
the  infant  congregations.  James  Pavanne,  a  native 
of  Picardy,  a  young  man  of  open  and  upright  character, 
evinced  an  ardent  zeal  for  the  Reformed  opinions. 
Meaux  was  become  a  focus  of  light.  Persons  called 
thither  by  business,  and  who  there  heard  the  Gospel, 
returning,  bore  it  with  them  to  their  respective  homes. 
It  was  not  merely  in  the  city  that  the  Scripture 
was  the  subject  of  inquiry  ;  "  many  of  the  adjacent 
villages  were  awakened,"  says  a  chronicler,  "  so  that 
in  that  diocese  seemed  to  shine  forth  a  sort  of  image 
of  the  regenerated  church." 

The  environs  of  Meaux  were,  in  autumn,  clothed 
with  rich  harvests,  and  a  crowd  of  labouring  people  re- 
sorted thither  from  the  surrounding  countries.  Rest- 
ing themselves,  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  they  would  talk 
with  the  people  of  those  parts  of  a  seed  time  and  har- 
vest of  another  kind.  Certain  peasantry,  who  had 
come  from  Thterachia,  and  more  particularly  from 
Landou/y,  after  their  return  home  continued  in  the 
doctrine  they  had  heard,  and,  ere  long,  an  evangelical 
church  was  formed  in  this  latter  placet — a  church 
which  is  among  the  most  ancient  in  the  kingdom. 
"  The  report  of  this  unspeakable  blessing  spread 
through  France,"  says  the  chronicler.^  Briconnet 
himself  preached  the  Gospel  from  the  pulpit,  and  1-a- 
boured  to  diffuse,  far  and  wide,  that  "  free,  gracious, 
true,  and  clear  light,  which  dazzles  and  illuminates 

*  Act  des  Mart.  p.  182. 

|  Hist  Cathol.  de  noire  temps,  par  Fontaine,  de  Pordre  do 
Saint  Francois.  Paris,  1562. 

t  These  facts  are  derived  from  old  and  much  damaged  pa- 
pers discovered  in  the  church  of  Laudouzy-la-Ville  (Aisne), 
by  M.  Colany,  during  the  time  he  filled  the  office  of  pastor  in 
that  town. 

&  Actes  des  Mart.  p.  182. 

Tt 


every  creature  capable  of  receiving  it ;  and,  while  it 
enlightens  him,  raises  him,  by  adoption,  to  the  dignity 
of  a  child  of  God."*  He  besought  his  hearers  not  to 
listen  to  those  who  would  turn  them  aside  from  the 
word.  "  Though  an  angel  from  heaven,"  exclaimed 
he,  "  should  preach  any  other  Gospel,  do  not  give 
ear  to  him."  At  times  melancholy  thoughts  pre- 
sented themselves  to  his  mind.  He  did  not  feel  con- 
fident in  his  own  stedfastness,  and  he  recoiled  from 
the  thought  of  the  fatal  consequences  that  might  re- 
sult from  any  failure  of  faith  on  his  part.  Forewarn- 
ing his  hearers,  he  would  say,  "  Though  I,  your  bi- 
shop, should  change  my  voice  and  doctrine,  take 
heed  that  you  change  not  with  me."t  At  that  mo- 
ment nothing  foreboded  such  a  calamity.  "  Not  only," 
says  the  chronicler,  "  the  word  of  God  was  preached, 
but  it  was  practised  :  all  kinds  of  works  of  charity  and 
love  were  visible  ;  the  morals  of  the  city  were  reform- 
ed, and  its  superstitions  disappeared. "± 

Still  indulging  in  the  thought  of  gaining  over  the 
king  and  his  mother,  the  bishop  sent  to  Margaret  a 
translation  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles,  richly  illuminated, 
humbly  soliciting  her  to  present  it  to  the  king,  "  which, 
coming  through  your  hands,"  added  he,  "  cannot  fail 
to  be  acceptable.  They  make  a  truly  royal  dish," 
continued  the  worthy  bishop,  "  of  a  fatness  that  never 
corrupts,  and  having  a  power  to  restore  from  all  manner 
of  sickness.  The  more  we  taste  them,  the  more  we 
hunger  after  them,  with  desires  that  are  ever  fed  and 
never  cloyed. "§ 

What  dearer  commission  could  Margaret  receive! 
The  moment  seemed  auspicious.  Michael  d'Arande 
was  at  Paris,  detained  there  by  command  of  the  king's 
mother,  for  whom  he  was  translating  portions  of  the 
Scriptures.il  But  Margaret  would  have  preferred 
that  Briconnet  himself  should  present  St.  Paul  to 
her  brother :  "  You  would  do  well  to  come,"  wrote 
she,  "  for  you  know  the  confidence  the  king  and  his 
mother  have  in  you. "IT 

Thus,  at  this  time,  (in  1522  and  1523,)  was  God's 
word  placed  before  the  eyes  of  Francis  the  First  and 
Louisa  of  Savoy.  They  were  thus  brought  in  contact 
with  that  Gospel  of  which  they  were  afterwards  to  be 
the  persecutors.  We  see  nothing  to  indicate  that  that 
Word  made  on  them  any  saving  impression  ;  curiosity 
led  them  to  unclose  that  Bible  which  was  the  subject 
of  so  much  discussion ;  but  they  soon  closed  it  again 
as  they  had  opened  it. 

Margaret  herself  with  difficulty  struggled  against  the 
worldliness  which  surrounded  her.  Her  tender  regard 
for  her  brother,  respect  for  her  mother,  the  flattery 
of  the  court,  all  conspired  against  the  love  she  had 
vowed  to  Jesus  Christ.  Many,  indeed,  were  her  temp- 
tations. At  times,  the  soul  of  Margaret,  assailed  by 
so  many  enemies,  and  dizzy  with  the  tumult  of  life, 
turned  aside  from  her  Lord.  Then,  becoming  con- 
scious of  her  sin,  the  princess  shut  herself  in  her  apart- 
ments, and  gave  vent  to  her  grief  in  sounds  very  dif- 
ferent from  those  with  which  Francis  and  the  young 
lords,  who  were  the  companions  of  his  pleasures,  filled 
the  royal  palaces  in  their  carousings : 

I  have  forsaken  thee,  for  pleasure  en  ing  ; 
In  place  of  thee,  my  evil  choice  preferring  ; 
And  from  thee  wandering,  whither  am  I  come  ? 
Among  the  cursed — to  the  place  of  doom. 
I  have  forsaken  thee,  oh  Friend  sincere  ; 

*  MS.  in  the  Royal  Library,  S.  F.  No.  337. 
|  Hist  Cathol.  de  Fontaine. 
J  Actes  des  Mart.  p.  182. 
^  MS.  in  the  Royal  Library,  S  F.  No.  337. 
||  Par  le  comman'dement  de  Madame  aqtiy  il  a lyyre quelqne 
chose  do  la  saincte  Escripture  qu'elle  desire  parfaire.    (Ibid) 
f  Ibid. 


338 


BRICONNET  PREACHES  AGAINST  THE  MONKS— HE  DRAWS  BACK. 


And  from  thy  love,  the  better  to  get  free, 
Have  clung  to  things  most  contrary  to  thee.* 

After  this,  Margaret,  turning  in  the  direction  of 
Meaux,  wrote,  in  her  distress,  "  I  again  turn  toward 
you,  Mons.  '  Fabry,'  and  your  companions,  desiring 
you,  in  your  prayers,  to  entreat  of  the  unspeakable  mercy 
an  alarm  that  shall  rouse  the  unwatchful  weak  one 
from  her  heavy  and  deathlike  slumbers."t 

The  friends  of  the  Reformation  were  beginning  to 
indulge  in  cheering  anticipations.  Who  would  be  able 
to  resist  the  Gospel  if  the  authority  of  Francis  the  First 
should  open  the  way  for  it  ?  The  corrupting  influence 
of  the  court  would  be  succeeded  by  a  sanctifying  ex- 
ample, and  France  would  acquire  a  moral  power  which 
would  constitute  her  the  benefactress  of  nations. 

But  the  Romish  party  on  their  side  had  caught  the 
alarm.  One  of  their  party  at  Meaux,  was  a  Jacobin 
monk,  of  the  name  of  Roma.  One  day,  when  Lefe- 
vre,  Farel,  and  their  friends  were  in  conversation  with 
him,  and  certain  other  partisans  of  the  papacy,  Lefevre 
incautiously  gave  utterance  to  his  hopes:  "  Already," 
said  he,  "  the  Gospel  is  winning  the  hearts  of  the  no- 
bles and  the  common  people,  and,  ere  long,  we  shall 
see  it  spreading  throughout  France,  and  casting  down 
the  inventions  that  men  have  set  up."  The  aged  doc- 
tor was  warmed  by  his  theme,  his  eyes  sparkled,  and 
his  feeble  voice  seemed  to  put  forth  new  power,  re- 
sembling the  aged  Simeon,  giving  thanks  to  the  Lord 
because  his  eyes  had  seen  His  salvation.  Lefevre's 
friends  partook  of  his  emotion;  the  opposers  were 
amazed  and  silent  .  .  .  Suddenly  Roma  rose  from  his 
seat,  exclaiming,  "  then  I  and  all  the  monks  will 
preach  a  crusade — we  will  raise  the  people,  and  if  the 
king  suffers  the  preaching  of  your  Gospel,  we  will  ex- 
pel him  from  his  kingdom  by  his  own  subjects.''^  Thus 
did  a  monk  venture  to  stand  up  against  the  knightly 
monarch.  The  Franciscans  applauded  his  boldness. 
It  was  necessary  to  prevent  the  fulfilment  of  the  aged 
doctor's  predictions.  Already  the  mendicant  friars 
found  their  daily  gatherings  fall  off.  The  Francis- 
cans, in  alarm,  distributed  themselves  in  private  fami- 
lies. "  Those  new  preachers  are  heretics,"  said  they, 
"  they  call  in  question  the  holiest  practices,  and  they 
deny  the  most  sacred  mysteries."  Then,  growing 
bolder,  the  more  violent  of  the  party,  sallying  forth 
from  their  cloister,  presented  themselves  at  the  bishop's 
residence,  and,  being  admitted,  "  Make  haste,"  said 
they,  "  to  crush  this  heresy,  or  the  pestilence  which 
now  afflicts  Meaux  will  extend  its  ravages  through  the 
kingdom." 

Bric.onnet  was  roused,  and  for  a  moment  disturbed 
by  this  invasion  of  his  privacy ;  but  he  did  not  give 
way.  Despising  the  interested  clamour  of  a  set  of 
ignorant  monks,  he  ascended  the  pulpit,  and  preached 
in  vindication  of  Lefevre,  designating  the  monks  as  pha- 
risees  and  hypocrites.  Still  this  opposition  from  with- 
out had  already  awakened  anxiety  and  conflict  in  his 
soul.  He  tried  to  quiet  his  fears  by  persuading  him- 
self that  it  was  necessary  to  pass  through  such  spiritual 
struggles.  "  By  such  conflict,"  said  he,  in  expres- 
sions that  sound  mystical  to  our  ears,  "we  are  brought 
to  a  death  that  ushers  into  life  ;  and,  while  ever  mor- 
tifying life,  living  we  die,  and  dying,  live."$  The  way 
had  been  more  sure,  if,  turning  to  the  Saviour,  as  the 
apostles,  when  driven  by  the  winds  and  tossed,  he  had 
cried  out,  "  Lord,  save  us,  or  we  perish  !" 

The  monks  of  Meaux,  enraged  at  this  repulse,  re- 
solved to  carry  their  complaint  before  a  higher  tribu 

*  Lea  Marguerites,  i.  p.  40. 

t  MS.  in  the  Royal  Library,  S.  F.  No.  337. 

i  Farel.  Epitre  au  Due  de  Lorraine.    Gen  1634. 

{  MS.  in  the  Royal  Library,  S.  F.  No.  337. 


nal.  An  appeal  lay  open  to  them  ;  and  if  the  bishop 
hould  be  contumacious,  he  may  be  reduced  to  com- 
>liance.  Their  leaders  set  forth  for  Paris,  and  con- 
certed measures  with  Beda  and  Duchesne.  They  pre- 
sented themselves  before  the  Parliament,  and  lodged 
nformation  against  the  bishop  and  the  heretical  teach- 
ers. "  The  town,"  said  they,  "  and  all  the  rieighbour- 
ng  country,  is  infected  with  heresy,  and  the  muddy 
waters  go  forth  from  the  bishop's  palace." 

Thus  France  began  to  hear  the  cry  of  persecution 
raised  against  the  Gospel.  The  priestly  and  the  civil 
jower — the  Sorbonne  and  the  Parliament  laid  their 
lands  upon  the  sword,  and  that  sword  was  destined  to 
)e  stained  with  blood.  Christianity  had  taught  men 
hat  there  are  duties  anterior  to  all  civil  relationships  ; 
t  had  emancipated  the  religious  mind,  laid  the  founda- 
ions  of  liberty  of  conscience,  and  wrought  an  impor- 
.ant  change  in  society  : — for  Antiquity,  everywhere  re- 
cognizing the  citizen,  and  nowhere  the  man,  had  made 
of  religion  a  matter  of  mere  state  regulation.  But 
scarcely  had  these  ideas  of  liberty  been  given  to  the 
world  when  the  Papacy  corrupted  them.  In  place  of 
he  despotism  of  the  prince,  it  substituted  that  of  the 
>riest.  Often,  indeed,  had  both  prince  and  priest  been 
)y  it  stirred  up  against  the  Christian  people.  A  new 
mancipation  was  needed  :  the  sixteenth  century  pro- 
duced it.  Wherever  the  Reformation  established  it- 
self, the  yoke  of  Rome  was  thrown  off,  and  liberty  of 
conscience  restored.  Yet  is  there  such  a  proneness 
n  man  to  exalt  himself  above  the  truth,  that  even  among 
many  Protestant  nations  of  our  own  time,  the  Church, 
'reed  from  the  arbitrary  power  of  the  priest,  is  near 
ailing  again  into  subserviency  to  the  civil  authority  ; 
thus,  like  its  divine  Founder,  bandied  from  one  despot- 
ism to  another ;  still  passing  from  Caiaphas  to  Puate, 
and  from  Pilate  to  Caiaphas  ! 

Brisonnet,  who  enjoyed  a  high  reputation  at  Paris, 
easily  cleared  himself.  But  in  vain  did  he  seek  to  de- 
rend  his  friends  ;  the  monks  were  resolved  not  to  return 
to  Meaux  empty-handed.  If  the  bishop  would  escape, 
he  must  sacrifice  his  brethren.  Of  a  character  natur- 
lly  timid,  and  but  little  prepared  for  '  Christ's  sake ' 
to  give  up  his  possessions  and  standing — alarmed,  agi- 
tated, and  desponding,  he  was  still  further  misled  by 
treacherous  advisers :  "  If  the  evangelical  divines  should 
leave  Meaux,"  said  some,  "  they  will  carry  the  Refor- 
mation elsewhere."  His  heart  was  torn  by  a  painful 
struggle.  At  length  the  wisdom  of  this  world  pre- 
vailed :  on  the  12th  of  April,  1523,  he  published  an 
ordonnance  by  which  he  deprived  those  pious  teachers 
of  their  license  to  preach.  This  was  the  first  step  iu 
Bri(jonnet's  downward  career. 

Lefevre  was  the  chief  object  of  enmity.  His  com- 
mentary on  the  four  Gospels,  and  especially  the  epistle 
"  to  Christian  readers,"  which  he  had  prefixed  to  it, 
inflamed  the  wrath  of  Beda  and  his  fellows.  They 
denounced  the  work  to  the  faculty — "  Has  he  not  ven 
tured,"  said  the  fiery  syndic,  *'  to  recommend  to  all  the 
faithful  the  reading  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  ?  Does  he 
not  affirm  that  whosoever  loves  not  the  word  of  Christ 
is  no  Christian  ;*  and  again,  that  the  word  of  God  is 
sufficent  of  itself  to  lead  us  to  eternal  life  ?" 

But  Francis  I.  saw  nothing  more  in  this  accusation 
than  a  theological  squabble.  He  appointed  a  commis- 
sion, before  which  Lefevre  successfully  defended  him- 
self, and  was  honourably  acquitted. 

Farel,  who  had  fewer  protectors  at  court,  found  him- 
self obliged  to  quit  Meaux.  It  appears  that  he  at  first 
repaired 'to  Paris,t  and  that  having  there  unsparingly 

*  Qui  verbum  ejus  hoc  modo  non  diligunt,  quo  pacto  hi 
Christiani  essent.  (Praef.  Comm.  in  Evang.) 

t  "  Farel  apres  avoir  subsiste  tant  qu'il  put  a  Paris."  (Bez» 
Hist.  Eccles.  i.  6.) 


LECLERC  THE  WOOL-COMBER— A  MOTHER'S  FAITH  AND  LOVE. 


339 


assailed  the  errors  of  Rome,  he  again  found  himsel 
obliged  to  remove,  and  left  that  city,  retiring  to  Dau- 
phiny,  whither  he  was  desirous  of  carrying  the  Gos- 
pel. 

To  have  intimidated  Lefevre,  and  caused  Brigonnet 
to  draw  back,  and  Farel  to  seek  refuge  in  flight,  was  a 
victory  gained,  so  that  the  Sorbonne  already  believed 
they  had  mastered  the  movement.  Monks  and  doctors 
exchanged  congratulations  ;  but  enough  was  not  done 
in  their  opinion,  blood  had  not  flowed.  They  went, 
therefore,  again  to  their  work,  and  blood,  since  they 
were  bent  on  shedding  it,  was  now  to  slake  the  thirst 
of  Roman  fanaticism. 

The  evangelical  Christians  of  Meaux,  seeing  their 
pastors  dispersed,  sought  to  edify  one  another.  A 
wool-carder,  John  Leclerc,  who  had  imbibed  the  true 
Christian  doctrine  from  the  instructions  of  the  divines, 
the  reading  of  the  Bible,  and  some  tracts,*  distinguish- 
ed himself  by  his  zeal  and  his  expounding  of  the  Scrip- 
ture. He  was  one  of  those  men  whom  the  Spirit  of 
God  inspires  with  courage.i  and  places  in  the  foremost 
rank  of  a  religious  movement.  The  Church  of  Meaux 
soon  came  to  regard  him  as  its  minister. 

The  idea  of  one  universal  priesthood,  known  in  such 
living  power  to  the  first  Christians  had  been  revived 
by  Lutheri  in  the  sixteenth  century.  But  this  idea 
seems  then  to  have  dwelt  only  in  theory  in  the  Luther- 
an Church,  and  was  really  acted  out  only  among  the 
congregations  of  the  Reformed  Churches.  The  Lu- 
theran congregations  (agreeing  in  this  point  with  the 
Anglican  Church)  took,  it  seems,  a  middle  course 
between  the  Romish  and  the  Reformed  Churches. 
Among  the  Lutherans,  everything  proceeded  from  the 
pastor  or  priest ;  and  nothing  was  counted  valid  in  the 
Church  but  what  was  regularly  conveyed  through  its 
rulers.  But  the  Reformed  Churches,  while  they  main- 
tained the  divine  appointment  of  the  ministry,  by  some 
sects  denied,  approached  nearer  to  the  primitive  con- 
dition of  the  apostolical  communities.  From  this  time 
forward,  they  recognized  and  proclaimed  that  tho  flork 
are  not  to  rest  satisfied  with  receiving  what  the  priest 
gives  out ;  that,  since  the  Bible  is  in  the  hands  of 
every  one,  tho  members  of  the  Church,  as  well  as  those 
who  take  the  lead,  possess  the  key  of  that  treasury 
whence  the  latter  derive  their  instructions  ;  that  the 
gifts  of  God,  the  spirit  of  faith,  of  wisdom,  of  consola- 
tion, and  of  knowledge  are  not  imparted  to  the  minis- 
ter alone  ;  but  that  each  is  called  upon  to  employ  for 
the  good  of  all  whatever  gift  he  has  received  ;  and  that 
it  may  often  happen  that  some  gift  needful  for  the  edi- 
fication of  the  Church  may  be  denied  to  the  pastor,  and 
granted  to  some  member  of  his  flock.  Thus  the  mere 
passive  state  of  the  Churches  was  changed  into  one  of 
general  activity ;  and  it  was  in  France  especially  that 
this  transformation  took  place.  In  other  countries,  the 
Reformers  are  found  almost  exclusively  among  the 
ministers  and  doctors  ;  but  in  France,  the  men  who 
had  road  or  studied  had  for  fellow-labourers  men  of  the 
lowest  class.  Among  God's  chosen  servants  in  that 
country  we  have  a  doctor  of  the  Sorbonne  and  a  wool- 
comber. 

Leclerc  began  to  visit  from  house  to  house,  strength- 
ening and  confirming  the  disciples  in  their  faith.  But 
not  resting  satisfied  with  these  ordinary  labours,  he 
longed  to  see  the  papal  edifice  overthrown,  and  France 
coming  forward  to  embrace  the  Gospel.  His  ungov- 
ernable zeal  was  such  as  to  remind  an  observer  of  Hot- 
linger  at  Zurich,  and  Carlstadt  at  Wittemberg.  He 
wrote  a  proclamation  against  the  Antichrist  of  Rome, 
in  which  he  announced  that  the  Lord  was  about  to 

*  Aliis  pauculis  libellis  diligenter  lectis.     (Bez»  Iconcs.) 
t  Animosse  fidei  plenus.     (Ibid.) 
t  Vide  vol.  ii.  pp.  87,  83. 


consume  that  wicked  one  with  the  spirit  of  his  mouth, 
and  proceeded  boldly  to  post  his  placard  at  the  very 
door  of  the  cathedral.*  Soon  all  was  confusion  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  ancient  edifice.  The  faithful 
were  amazed,  the  priests  enraged.  What  !  shall  a 
base  wool-comber  be  allowed  to  assail  the  pope  1  The 
Franciscans  were  furious.  They  insisted  that  at  least 
on  this  occasion  a  terrible  example  should  be  made — 
Leclerc  was  thrown  into  prison. 

His  trial  took  place  in  the  presence  of  Brisonnet 
himself,  who  was  now  to  witness  and  endure  all  that 
was  done.  The  wool-comber  was  condemned  to  be 
publicly  whipped  through  the  city,  three  successive 
days,  and  on  the  third  day  to  be  branded  on  the  fore- 
head. The  mournful  spectacle  began.  Leclerc  was 
led  through  the  streets,  his  hands  bound,  his  back  bare, 
and  receiving  from  the  executioners  the  blows  he  had 
drawn  upon  himself  by  his  opposition  to  the  Bishop  of 
Rome.  A  great  crowd  followed  the  martyr's  progress, 
which  was  marked  by  his  blood  :  some  pursued  the 
heretic  with  yells  ;  others,  by  their  silence,  gave  no 
doubtful  signs  of  sympathy  with  him  ;  and  one  woman 
encouraged  the  martyr  by  her  looks  and  words — she 
was  his  mother. 

At  length,  on  the  third  day,  when  the  bloody  pro- 
cession was  over,  Leclerc  was  made  to  stop  at  the 
usual  place  of  execution.  The  executioner  prepared^ 
a  fire,  heated  the  iron  which  was  to  sear  the  flesh  of 
the  minister  of  the  Gospel,  and  approaching  him  brand- 
ed him  as  a  heretic  on  his  forehead.  Just  then  a  shriek 
was  uttered — but  it  came  not  from  the  martyr.  His 
mother,  a  witness  of  the  dreadful  sight,  wrung  with 
anguish,  endured  a  violent  struggle  between  the  enthu- 
siasm of  faith  and  maternal  feelings  ;  but  her  faith 
overcame,  and  she  exclaimed  in  a  voice  that  made  the 
adversaries  tremble,  "  Glory  be  to  Jesus  Christ  and 
his  witnesses."*  Thus  did  this  Frenchwoman  of  the 
16th  century  have  respect  to  that  word  of  the  Son  of 
God,  "  Whosoever  loveth  his  son  more  than  me  is  not 
worthy  of  me."  So  daring  a  courage  at  such  a  mo- 
ment might  have  seemed  to  demand  instant  punish- 
ment ;  but  that  Christian  mother  had  struck  powerless 
he  hearts  of  priests  and  soldiers.  Their  fury  was  re- 
strained by  a  mightier  arm  than  theirs.  The  crowd 
"ailing  back  and  making  way  for  her,  allowed  the  mo- 
her  to  regain,  with  faltering  step,  her  humble  dwelling. 
Monks,  and  even  thetown-serjeants  themselves,  gazed 
on  her  without  moving  ;  "  not  one  of  her  enemies," 
says  Theodore  Beza,  "  dared  to  put  forth  his  hand 
against  her."  After  this  punishment,  Leclerc,  being 
set  at  liberty,  withdrew,  first  to  Rosay  en  Brie,  a  town 
six  leagues  from  Meaux,  and  subsequently  to  Metz, 
where  we  shall  again  meet  with  him. 

The  enemy  was  triumphant.  "  The  Cordeliers  hav- 
ng  regained  possession  of  the  pulpit,  propagated  their 
accustomed  falsehoods  and  absurdities. "t  But  the 
ooor  working-people  of  Meaux,  no  longer  permitted 
,o  hear  the  word  of  God  in  regular  assemblies,  began 
to  hold  their  meetings  in  private,  "  imitating,"  says 
tho  chronicler,  "  the  sons  of  the  prophets  in  the  days 
of  Ahab,  and  the  Christians  of  the  early  church  ;  assem- 
bling as  opportunity  offered,  at  one  time  in  a  house,  at 
another  in  a  cavern,  and  at  times  in  a  vineyard  or  a 
wood.  On  such  occasions,  he  among  them  who  was 
nost  conversant  with  the  Holy  Scriptures,  exhorted  the 
rest ;  and  this  being  done,  they  all  prayed  together  with 
much  fervency,  cheered  by  the  hope  that  the  Gospel 
would  be  received  in  France,  and  the  tyranny  of  Anti- 

Cet  heretique  ecrivit  des  pancartes  quMl  attacha  aux  portea 
de  la  grande  eglise  de  Meaux  (MS.  de  Meaux.)  See  also 
Bezae  Icoiies,  Crespin,  Actes  des  Martyrs,  &c. 

t  Hist.  Eccles.  de  Th.  de  Bezae,  p.  4.  Hist,  des  Martyrs  de 
Crespin,  p.  92. 

Actes  des  Martyrs,  p.  183. 


340 


SEIZURE  OF  BERQUIN'S  BOOKS— IS  IMPRISONED— IS  LIBERATED. 


christ  be  at  an  end."*  Where  is  the  power  can  ar- 
rest the  progress  of  truth  1 

One  victim,  however,  did  not  satisfy  the  persecutors; 
and  if  the  first  against  whom  their  anger  was  let  loose 
was  but  a  wool-comber,  the  second  was  a  gentleman 
of  the  court.  It  was  become  necessary  to  overawe 
the  nobles  as  well  as  the  people.  The  Sorbonne  of 
Paris  was  unwilling  to  be  outstripped  by  the  Francis- 
cans of  Meaux.  Berquin,  "  the  most  learned  among 
the  nobles,"  continuing  to  gather  more  confidence  from 
the  Scriptures,  had  composed  certain  epigrams  against 
the  "  drones  of  the  Sorbonne  ;"  and  had  afterward 
gone  so  far  as  to  charge  them  with  impiety,  f 

Beda  and  Duchesne,  who  had  not  ventured  any  reply 
in  their  usual  style  to  the  witticisms  of  a  gentleman  of 
the  court,  adopted  a  different  line  of  conduct  when 
they  discerned  that  serious  convictions  were  at  the 
bottom  of  these  attacks.  Berquin  had  become  a  Chris- 
tian ;  his  ruin  was  therefore  decided  on.  Beda  and 
Duchesne  having  seized  some  of  his  translations,  found 
in  them  sufficient  to  bring  more  than  one  heretic  to 
the  stake  :  "  He  asserts,"  they  exclaimed,  "  that  it  is 
wrong  to  invoke  the  Virgin  Mary  in  place  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  to  call  her  the  source  of  all.  grace  .'$  He 
declares  himself  against  the  custom  of  speaking  of  her 
as  our  hope  and  our  life,  and  says  that  these  titles  be- 
long only  to  the  Son  of  God."  There  were  other 
charges  against  Berquin  ;  his  closet  was,  as  it  were,  a 
library,  whence  the  supposed  tainted  works  were  diffus- 
ed through  the  kingdom.  Above  all,  Melancthon's 
Loci  Communes  served  to  stagger  the  more  learned. 
The  man  of  piety,  entrenched  amid  his  folios  and  tracts, 
had,  in  his  Christian  love,  made  himself  translator,  cor- 
rector, printer,  and  bookseller It  seemed  in- 
dispensable to  stop  the  stream  at  its  source. 

Accordingly,  one  day,  while  Berquin  was  quietly 
engaged  in  his  studies,  the  house  was  of  a  sudden  sur- 
rounded by  armed  men,  demanding  admittance.  The 
Sorbonne  and  its  agents,  armed  with  authority  from 
the  Parliament,  were  at  his  door.  Beda,  the  dreaded 
syndic,  was  at  their  head,  and  never  did  inquisitor  more 
perfectly  perform  his  function.  Followed  by  his  satel- 
lites, he  made  his  way  to  Berquin's  study,  communicat- 
ed the  object  of  his  mission,  and  desiring  his  followers 
to  keep  an  eye  upon  him,  commenced  his  search.  Not 
a  volume  escaped  his  notice,  and  an  exact  inventory 
was  made  under  his  direction.  Here  lay  a  treatise  by 
Melancthon  ;  there  a  pamphlet  by  Carlstadt ;  farther 
on  a  work  of  Luther's  ;  here  "  heretical  "  books  which 
Berquin  had  translated  from  Latin  into  French  ;  there 
— others  of  his  own  composition.  With  two  excep- 
tions, all  the  books,  seized,  abounded  with  Lutheran 
doctrine,  and  Beda  quitted  the  house,  carrying  away 
his  booty  and  more  elated  than  a  general  laden  with 
the  spoil  of  conquered  nations.^ 

Berquin  perceived  that  a  viole'nt  storm  had  burst 
upon  his  head,  but  his  courage  did  not  falter :  he  had 
too  much  contempt  for  his  adversaries  to  fear  them. 
Meanwhile,  Beda  lost  no  time.  On  the  31st  May, 
1523,  the  Parliament  decreed  that  all  the  books  seized 
at  Berquin's  house  should  be  laid  before  the  faculty  of 
theology.  Its  decision  was  soon  made  known,  and  on 
the  25th  of  June,  it  condemned  all  the  works,  except 
the  two  already  mentioned,  to  be  burnt  as  heretical ; 
and  enjoined  that  Berquin  should  be  required  to  abjure 
his  errors.  The  Parliament  ratified  the  decision.  Ber- 
quin appeared  at  the  bar  of  this  formidable  body  :  he 

*  Actes  des  Martyrs,  p.  183. 

f  Impietatis  etiam  accusatos,  turn  voce,  turn  scriptis.  (Bezse 
Icones) 

t  Incongrue  beatam  Virginem  invocari  pro  Spritu  Sancto. 
(Erasmi  Epp.  1279.) 

^  Gaillard  Hist,  de  Francois  I.  iv.  241.  Crevieiv  Univ.  de 
Paris,  v.  p.  171. 


knew  that  the  next  step  beyond  it  might  be  to  the  scaf- 
fold ;  but,  like  Luther  at  Worms,  he  stood  firm.  It 
was  in  vain  that  the  Parliament  insisted  on  his  retract- 
ing ;  he  was  not  of  those  who  fall  away  after  being 
made  partakers  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  He  that  is  begot- 
ten of  God  keepeth  himself,  and  that  wicked  one  touched 
him  not.*  Every  such  fall  proves  that  conversion  has 
either  been  only  apparent,  or  else  partial  ;f  now  Ber- 
quin's was  a  real  conversion.  He  answered  the  court 
before  which  he  stood  with  decision  ;  and  the  Parlia- 
ment, using  more  severity  than  the  Diet  of  Worms, 
directed  its  officers  to  take  the  accused  into  custody, 
and  lead  him  away  to  prison.  This  took  place  on  the 
1st  of  August,  1523.  On  the  5th,  the  Parliament 
handed  over  the  heretic  to  the  Bishop  of  Paris,  in  or- 
der that  that  prelate  might  take  cognizance  of  the  af- 
fair, and  jointly  with  the  doctors  and  counsellors,  pass 
sentence  on  the  culprit.  Berquin  was  forthwith  trans- 
ferred to  the  official  prison.  J 

Beda,  Duchesne,  and  their  companions  had  their 
victim  in  their  clutches  ;  but  the  court  bore  no  favour 
to  the  Sorbonne,  and  Francis  was  more  powerful  than 
Beda.  A  feeling  of  indignation  spread  among  the  no- 
bles :  what  do  these  monks  and  priests  mean,  not  to 
respect  the  rank  of  a  gentleman?  What  charge  do 
they  bring  against  him1?  was  the  question  asked  in  the 
presence  of  Francis.  Is  it  that  he  blames  the  practice 
of  invoking  the  Virgin  instead  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ?  But 
Erasmus  and  many  more  have  censured  it.  Is  it  on 
such  frivolous  charges  they  go  the  length  of  imprison- 
ing an  officer  of  the  king  ?Q  This  attack  of  theirs  is  a 
blow  struck  .against  knowledge  and  true  religion  ;  an 
insult  to  nobles,  knights,  and  royalty  itself.  The  king 
decided  on  again  making  the  Sorbonne  feel  the  weight 
of  his  authority.  He  issued  letters  summoning  the 
parties  in  the  cause  before  his  conncil,  and  on  the  8th 
of  August  a  messenger  presented  himself  at  the  official 
prison,  bearing  a  royal  mandate  enjoining  that  Berquin 
should  be  at  liberty. 

It  seemed  at  first  doubtful  whether  the  monks  would 
yield  compliance.  Francis  had  anticipated  some  diffi- 
culty, and,  in  charging  the  messenger  with  the  execu- 
tion of  his  orders,  had  added  :  "  If  yon  meet  with  any 
resistance,  I  authorize  you  to  break  open  the  doors." 
There  was  no  misunderstanding  these  words.  The 
monks  and  the  Sorbonne  submitted  to  the  affront  put 
upon  them  ;  and  Berquin,  released  from  durance,  ap- 
peared before  the  king's  council,  and  was  there  acquit- 
ted. || 

Thus  did  Francis  I.,  humble  the  ecclesiastical  power. 
Under  his  reign  Berquin  fondly  hoped  that  France 
might  free  herself  from  the  Papal  yoke  ;  and  he  began 
to  meditate  a  renewal  of  hostilities.  With  this  intent, 
he  opened  communications  with  Erasmus,  who  at  once 
acknowledged  his  right  intentions.lF  But  the  philoso- 
pher, ever  timid  and  temporizing,  replied — "  Remem- 
ber to  avoid  irritating  the  drones  ;  and  pursue  your 
studies  in  peace.**  Above  all,  do  not  implicate  me 
in  your  affairs,  for  that  will  be  of  no  service  to  either 
of  us."tt 

Berquin  was  not  discouraged.  If  the  great  genius 
of  the  age  draws  back,  he  will  put  his  trust  in  God 

*  Hebrews  vi.  4.    1  John  v.  18. 

t  This  is  believed  to  be  a  faithful  rendering  of  the  original. 
The  interpretation  and  the  application  may  be  open  to  ques- 
tion—(TV.) 

\  Ductus  est  in  carcerem,  reus  haereseos  periclitatus.  (Er. 
Epp.  1279.  Crevier,  Gaillard,  loc.  cit.) 

^  Ob  hujusmodi  noenias.     Erasm.  Epp.  1279.) 

||  Aljudices,  ubi  viderunt  causam  essenullius  momenti.ab- 
Kolverunt  hominem.  (Ibid ) 

IT  Ex  epistola  visus  est  mihi  vir  bonus.     (Ibid.) 

**  Sineret  crabrones  et  sus  se  studiia  oblectaret.  (Erasmi 
Epp.  1279.) 

f|  Dcinde  ne  me  involveret  suae  causae.    (Ibid.) 


PAVANNE'S  RECANTATION— ZEAL  OP  LECLERC  AND  CHATELAIN. 


341 


who  never  deserts  His  work.  God's  work  will  be  ef- 
fected— -either  by  humble  instrumentality,  or  without  it. 
Erasmus  himself  acknowledged  that  Berquin,  like  the 
palm  tree,  rose  in  renewed  vigour  from  every  new  gust 
of  persecution  that  assailed  him.* 

Not  such  were  all  who  had  embraced  the  Evangeli- 
cal doctrines.  Martial  Mazurier  had  been  one  of  the 
most  zealous  of  preachers.  He  was  accused  of  having 
advocated  very  erroneous  opinions  ;t  and  even  of  hav- 
ing committed,  while  at  Meaux,  certain  acts  of  violence. 
"  This  Martial  Mazurier,  being  at  Meaux,"  such  are 
the  words  of  a  manuscript  preserved  in  that  city,  and 
which  we  have  already  had  occasion  to  quote — "  en- 
tering the  church  of  the  reverend  Fathers,  the  Corde- 
liers, and  seeing  the  statue  of  St.  Francis,  in  high  re- 
lief, outside  the  door  of  the  convent,  where  that  of  St. 
Roch  is  now  placed,  struck  it  down,  and  broke  it." 
Mazurier  was  arrested,  and  thrown  into  prison,  where 
he  at  once  fell  back  upon  his  own  reflections  and  the 
keenest  perplexity. £  It  was  the  Gospel  rule  of  morals, 
rather  than  its  great  doctrines,  that  had  won  him  over 
to  the  ranks  of  the  Reformers  ;  and  that  rule,  taken 
alone,  brought  with  it  no  strength.  Terrified  art  the 
prospect  of  the  stake  awaiting  him,  and  believing  that 
in  France,  the  victory  would  be  sure  to  remain  with 
Rome,  he  easily  persuaded  himself  that  he  should  have 
more  influence  and  honour  by  going  back  to  the  Papacy. 
Accordingly,  he  recanted  his  former  teaching,  and  di- 
rected that  doctrines  altogether  opposed  to  those  as- 
cribed to  him,  should  be  preached  in  his  parish  ;§  and 
uniting,  at  a  later  period,  with  most  fanatical  of  the 
Romish  party — and  particularly  with  the  celebrated 
Ignatius  Loyola, ||  he  became,  thenceforward,  the  most 
zealous  supporter  of  the  Papal  cause.  From  the  days 
of  the  Emperor  Julian  apostates  have  ever  been  among 
the  sternest  enemies  of  the  doctrines  which  they  once 
professed. 

An  occasion  soon  offered  for  Mazurier  to  make  proof 
of  his  zeal.  The  youthful  James  Pavanne  had  also 
been  thrown  into  prison.  Martial  hoped  to  cover  his 
own  shame  by  involving  another  in  the  like  fall.  The 
youth,  the  amiable  disposition,  the  learning,  and  the  in- 
tegrity of  Pavanne,  created  a  general  interest  in  his 
favour  ;  and  Mazurier  imagined  that  he  himself  should 
be  deemed  less  culpable  if  he  could  but  persuade 
Master  James  to  a  similar  course.  Visiting  him  in  his 
cell,  he  began  by  pretending  that  he  had  advanced 
farther  in  inquiry  into  the  truth  than  Pavanne  had  done. 
"  You  are  under  a  mistake,  James,"  he  often  repeated 
to  him  :  "  You  have  not  gone  deep  into  these  matters  : 
you  have  made  acquaintance  only  with  the  agitated 
surface  of  them. "IT  Sophisms,  promises,  threats  were 
freely  resorted  to.  The  unfortunate  youth,  deceived, 
disturbed,  and  perplexed,  yielded  to  these  perfidious 
advances  ;  and  on  the  morrow  of  Christmas  day,  1524, 
he  publicly  abjured  his  pretended  errors.  But  from  that 
hour  a  spirit  of  melancholy  and  remorse,  sent  by  the 
Almighty,  weighed  heavy  on  his  soul.  Deep  sadness 
consumed  him,  and  his  sighs  were  unceasing.  "  Ah !" 
he  repeated,  "  for  me  life  has  nothing  left  but  bitterness." 
Such  are  the  mournful  consequences  of  apostacy. 

Nevertheless,  among  those  Frenchmen  who  had  re- 
ceived the  word  of  God,  were  found  men  of  more  in- 
trepid hearts  than  Pavanne  and  Mazurier.  Toward 
the  end  of  1523,  Leclerc  settled  at  Metz,  in  Lorraine, 

*  Ille,  ut  habebat  quiddam  cum  palma  commune,  adversus 
deterrentem  tollebat  animos.  (Ibid.)  There  is  probably  an 
allusion  to  Pliny,  Hist.  Naturalis,  xvi.  42. 

f  Historie  1'Universite  par  Crevier,  v.  p.  203. 

j  Gaillard,  Hist,  de  Francois  I.  v.  p.  234. 

^"Comme  il  etait  homme  adroit,  il  esquiva  la  condemna- 


tion,'' says  Crevier,  v.  p.  203. 

||  Cum  Ignatio  Loyola  f 
gymnasii  historia,  p.  621.) 


||  Cum  Ignatio  Loyola  init  amicitiam.    (Launoi  Navarrse 
rmnasii  historia,  p.  621.) 
T  Actes  des  Martyrs,  p.  99. 


"  and  there,"  says  Theodora  Beza,  "he  acted  on  the 
example  of  St.  Paul,  who,  while  labouring  at  Corinth 
as  a  tent-maker,  persuaded  both  the  Jews  and  the 
Greeks."*  Leclerc,  while  pursuing  his  industry  as  a 
wool-comber,  instructed  those  of  his  own  condition  ; 
and  among  these  last  there  had  been  several  instances 
of  real  conversion.  Thus  did  this  humble  artizan  lay 
the  foundation  of  a  church  which  afterward  became 
celebrated. 

But  at  Metz,  Leclerc  did  not  stand  alone.  Among 
the  ecclesiastics  of  that  city  was  one  John  Chatelain, 
an  Augustine  monk  of  Tournay,  and  doctor  of  theolo- 
gy, who  had  been  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  God,f 
through  his  acquaintance  with  the  Augustines  of  Ant- 
werp. Chdtelain  had  gained  the  reverence  of  tho 
people  by  the  strictness  of  his  morals  ;|  and  the  doc- 
trine of  Christ,  when  preached  by  him,  attired  in  copa 
and  stole,  appeared  less  strange  to  the  inhabitants  of 
Metz,  than  when  it  proceeded  from  the  lips  of  a  poor 
artizan,  laying  aside  the  comb  with  which  he  carded 
his  wool,  to  take  up  and  explain  a  French  version  of 
the  gospels. 

By  the  active  zeal  of  these  two  men,  the  light  of 
evangelical  truth  began  to  be  diffused  throughout  the 
city.  A  very  devout  woman  named  Toussamt,  one  of 
the  middle  class  of  the  people,  had  a  son  called  Peter, 
with  whom,  in  the  hours  of  his  childish  sports,  she 
would  often  speak  of  serious  things.  Everyone,  even 
to  the  humblest,  lived  then  in  expectation  of  some  ex- 
traordinary event.  One  day  the  child  was  amusing 
himself  in  riding  on  a  stick,  in  a  room  where  his  mo- 
ther was  conversing  with  some  friends  on  the  things  of 
God,  when  she  said,  in  a  voice  of  emotion,  "Anti- 
christ will  soon  come  with  great  power,  and  will  de- 
stroy such  as  shall  have  been  converted  by  the  preach- 
ing of  Elias."$  These  words  being  frequently  repeated, 
arrested  the  attention  of  the  child,  and  he  afterward 
recalled  them.  At  the  time  when  the  doctor  of  the- 
ology and  the  wool-comber  were  engaged  in  preaching 
the  gospel  at  Metz,  Peter  Toussaint  was  grown  up. 
His  relations  and  friends,  wondering  at  his  precocious 
genius,  conceived  the  hope  of  seeing  him  in  an  exalted 
station  in  the  church.  An  uncle  on  his  father's  side 
was  primicier,  or  head  of  the  chapter  of  Metz.ll  The 
cardinal,  John  of  Lorraine,  son  of  Duke  Rene,  who 
kept  a  large  establishment,  expressed  much  regard  fat 
the  primicier  and  his  nephew,  the  latter  of  whom,  not- 
withstanding his  youth,  had  just  before  obtained  a  pre- 
bend, when  his  attention  was  drawn  to  the  study  of 
the  gospel.  Why  may  not  the  preaching  of  Ohatelain 
and  Leclerc  be  that  of  Elias  1  It  is  true  Antichrist  is 
everywhere  arming  against  it.  But  what  matter  1 
"  Let  us,"  said  he,  "  lift  up  our  heads,  looking  to  the 
Lord,  who  will  come  and  will  not  tarry."1T  The  light 
of  truth  was  beginning  to  find  entrance  among  the 
principal  families  of  Metz.  The  knight  Each,  an  inti- 
mate friend  of  the  primicier,  or  dean,  and  much  res- 
pected, had  been  recently  converted.**  The  friends  of 
the  gospel  were  rejoicing  in  this  event — Pierre  was 
accustomed  to  term  him  "  our  worthy  master  the 
knight;"  adding  with  noble  candour,  "if  wo  may  be 
allowed  to  call  any  man  master  on  earth."tt 

*  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  xviii.  3, 4.  Apostoli  apud  Corinthio* 
exemplum  secutus.  (Be/.ac  Icones.) 

t  Vocatus  ad  cognitionem  Dei.     (Act.  Mart.  130.) 

j  Gaillard,  Hist,  de  Francois  I.  v.  p.  232. 

$  Cum  equitabam  in  nrundine  longa,  memini  saejie  audisse 
me  amatre,  venturum  Antichristum  cumpotentia  magnaper 
diturumqne  eos  qui  essent  and  Eliae  prsedicationem  conversi. 
(Tossanus  Farello,4  Sept.  1626,  from  a  MS.  of  the  conclave  of 
Neufchatel )  ||  Tossnus  Farello,  21st  July,  1525. 

f  Ibid.  4th  Sept  1525. 

**  Clarissimum  ilium  equitem  . . .  cui  multum  familiaritas  et 
amicitiae,  cum  primicerio  Metensi,  patruo  meo.  (Toss.  Fa* 
rcllo,  2d  Aug.  1524.) 

tf  Ibid.  21st  July,  1525.    MS.  of  Neufchatel. 


342  UPROAR  AMONG  THE  PEOPLE— MARTYRDOM  OF  LECLERC  AND  CHATELAIN 


Thus  Metz  was  about  to  become  a  focus  of  light 
when  the  rash  zeal  of  Leclerc  abruptly  arrested  its 
slow  but  sure  progress,  and  excited  a  commotion  which 
threatened  ruin  to  the  infant  church.  The  populace 
of  Metz  had  continued  to  observe  their  accustomed 
superstitions,  and  Leclerc's  spirit  was  stirred  within 
him  at  the  sight  of  the  city  almost  wholly  given  to 
idolatry.  One  of  their  high  festivals  drew  nigh.  About 
a  league  distant  from  the  city  stood  a  chapel  inclosing 
statues  of  the  virgin  and  of  the  most  venerated  saints 
of  the  surrounding  country,  whither  the  people  of 
Metz  were  in  the  habit  of  resorting  in  pilgrimage  on  a 
certain  day  in  the  year,  to  worship  these  images  and 
obtain  the  pardon  of  their  sins. 

On  the  eve  of  this  festival  the  pious  and  the  cou- 
rageous spirit  of  Leclerc  was  deeply  agitated.  Had 
not  God  said — "  Thou  shalt  not  bow  down  to  their 
gods,  but  thou  shalt  utterly  overthrow  them,  and  quite 
break  down  their  images."*  Leclerc  understood  the 
words  as  addressed  to  himself,  and  without  conferring 
with  Chatelain,  Esch,  or  any  of  those  whom  he  may 
have  expected  would  dissuade  him,  quitted  the  city, 
and  approached  the  chapel.  There  he  collected  his 
thoughts  as  he  sat  silently  before  these  statues.  As 
yet  the  way  was  open  to  him  to  retire  ;  but  to-morrow 
— in  a  few  hours — the  entire  population  of  a  city,  which 
ought  to  be  worshiping  God  alone,  will  be  bowing  be- 
fore these  blocks  of  wood  and  stone.  A  struggle  en- 
sued in  the  heart  of  the  humble  wool-carder,  similar  to 
that  which  was  so  often  endured  in  the  hearts  of  the 
early  Christians.  What  signified  the  difference,  that 
here  it  was  the  images  of  the  saints  of  ihe  neighbour- 
ing country,  and  not  of  heathen  gods  and  goddesses — 
did  not  the  worship  rendered  to  these  images  belong 
of  right  to  God  alone  1  Like  Polyeucte  before  the 
idols  of  the  temple,  his  heart  shuddered,  and  his  cou- 
rage was  roused : 

Ne  pcrdons  plus  le  tempts,  le  sacrifice  est  prel, 
Allous  y  du  vrai  Dieu  soutenir  Pinteret ; 
Allons  fouler  auz  pieds  ce  foudre  ridicule 
Dont  arme  un  bois  pourri  ce  peuple  trop  credule 
Allons  en  eclairer  1'aveuglement  fatal, 
Allons  briser  ces  dieux  de  pierre  et  de  metal 
Abandonnons  nos  jours,  a  cette  ardeur  celeste  — 
Faisons  triompher  Dieu  ;  qu'il  dispose  du  reste. 
Corneille,  Polyeuctr.^ 

Leclerc  accordingly  rose  from  his  seat,  and  approach- 
ing the  images,  removed  and  broke  them,  in  his  holy 
indignation  scattering  the  fragments  before  the  altar. 
He  did  not  doubt  that  this  action  was  by  special  inspi- 
ration of  the  spirit  of  the  Lord,  and  Theodore  Beza 
was  of  the  same  judgment.}  This  done,  Leclerc  re- 
turned to  Metz,  re-entering  it  at  day-break,  and  noticed 
only  a  few  persons  at  the  moment  of  his  passing  the 
gate  of  the  city  § 

Meanwhile  all  were  in  motion  in  the  ancient  city  of 
Metz.  The  bells  rang,  the  various  religious  bodies 
mustered,  and  the  entire  population,  headed  by  the 
priests  and  monks,  left  the  city,  reciting  prayers  and 
chanting  hymns  to  the  saints  whom  they  were  on  their 
way  to  worship.  Crosses  and  banners  went  forward 
in  orderly  procession,  and  drums  and  instruments  of 
music  mingled  with  the  hymns  of  the  faithful.  After 
an  hours  inarch,  the  procession  reached  the  place  of 
pilgrimage.  But  what  was  the  astonishment  of  the 
priests,  when  advancing  with  censers  in  hand,  they  be- 
neld  the  images  they  had  come  to  worship  multilated, 
and  their  fragments  strewed  upon  the  earth.  They  drew 

»  Exodus  xx.  4  ;  xxiii.  24. 

f  Polyeucte,  by  P.  Corneille.  What  many  admire  in  poetry, 
they  pass  condemnation  on  in  history. 

1  Divini  spiritug  afflatu  impulsus.     (Bczse  Icones.) 
\  Mane  apud  urbis  portam  deprehensus. 


back  appalled,  and  announced  to  the  crowd  of  worship- 
pers the  sacrilege  that  had  been  committed.  Instantly 
Lhe  hymns  were  hushed — the  music  stopped — the  ban- 
ners were  lowered,  and  agitation  pervaded  the  assem- 
bled multitude.  Canons,  curates,  and  monks,  labour- 
ed still  farther  to  inflame  their  anger  and  excited  them 
to  search  out  the  guilty  person,  and  require  that  he 
should  be  put  to  death.*  A  shout  was  raised  on  all 
sides.  "  Death — Death  to  the  sacrilegious  wretch." 
They  returned  in  haste  and  disorder  to  the  city. 

Leclerc  was  known  to  all ;  several  times  he  had 
aeen  heard  to  call  the  images  idols  ;  moreover  he  had 
been  observed  at  day-break  returning  from  the  direc- 
tion of  the  chapel.  He  was  apprehended,  and  at  once 
confessed  the  fact,  at  the  same  time  conjuring  the  peo- 
ple to  worship  God  alone.  But  his  appeal  only  the 
more  inflamed  the  rage  of  the  multitude,  who  would 
bave  dragged  him  to  instant  execution.  Placed  before 
bis  judges,  he  courageously  declared  that  Jesus  Christ 
— God  manifest  in  the  flesh — ought  to  be  the  sole  ob- 
ject of  worship  ;  and  was  sentenced  to  be  burnt  alive  ! 
He  was  conducted  to  the  place  of  execution. 

Here  an  awful  scene  awaited  him  :  his  persecutor* 
had  been  devising  all  that  could  render  his  sufferings 
more  dreadful.  At  the  scaffold  they  were  engaged 
heating  pincers,  as  instruments  of  their  cruelty.  Le- 
clerc heard  with  cairn  composure  the  savage  yells  of 
monks  and  people.  They  began  by  cutting  off  his  right 
hand  ;  then  taking  up  the  red  hot  pincers,  they  tore 
away  his  nose  ;  after  this,  with  the  same  instrument, 
they  lacerated  his  arms,  and  having  thus  mangled  him 
in  many  places,  they  ended  by  applying  the  burnings 
to  his  breasts.f  All  the  while  that  the  cruelty  of  his 
enemies  was  venting  itself  on  his  body,  his  soul  was 
kept  in  perfect  peace.  He  ejaculated  solemnly,! — 
"  Their  idols  are  silver  and  gold,  the  work  of  men's 
hands.  They  have  mouths,  but  they  speak  nut :  eyes 
have  they,  but  they  see  not ;  they  have  ears,  but  they 
hear  not :  noses  have  they,  but  they  smell  not :  they 
have  hands,  but  they  handle  not:  feet  have  they,  but 
they  walk  not :  neither  speak  they  through  their  throat. 
They  that  make  them  are  like  unto  them  ;  so  is  every 
one  that  trusteth  in  them.  0  Israel,  trust  thou  in  the 
Lord :  he  is  their  help  and  their  shield."  The  ene- 
mies were  awed  by  the  sight  of  so  much  composure, 
believers  were  confirmed  in  their  faith, $  and  the  peo- 
ple, whose  indignation  had  vented  itself  in  the  first 
burst  of  anger,  were  astonished  and  affected.  ||  After 
undergoing  these  tortures,  Leclerc  was  burned  by  a 
slow  fire  in  conformity  to  the  sentence.  Such  was  the 
death  of  the  first  martyr  of  the  Gospel  in  France. 

But  the  priests  of  Metz  did  not  rest  there  :  in  vain 
had  they  laboured  to  shake  the  fidelity  of  Chatelain 
— "  He  is  like  the  deaf  adder,"  said  they,  "  he  refuses 
to  hear  the  truth."f  He  was  arrested  by  the  servants 
of  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  and  transfered  to  the  cas- 
tle of  Nommeny. 

After  this  he  was  degraded  by  the  officers  of  the 
bishop,  who  stripped  him  of  his  vestments,  and  scraped 
the  tips  of  his  fingers  with  a  piece  of  broken  glass, 
saying  :  "  Thus  do  we  take  away  the  power  to  sacri- 
fice, consecrate,  und  bless,  which  thou  didst  formerly 
receive  by  the  anointing  of  thy  hands."**  Then 

*  Totam  civitatem  concitarunt  ad  auctorem  ejus  facinoris 
quaerendum.  (Act.  Mart.  lat.  p.  189.) 

t  Naso  candentibus  forcipibus  abrepto,  iisdemque  brachio 
utroque,  ipsis  que  mammis  crudelissime  perustis.  (Bezae 
Icones.)  MS.  ofMeaux,  Crespin,  &c. 

J  Altissima  voce  recitans.    (Bezae  Icones.)   Psalm  cxv.  4-9. 

4  Adversariis  territis,  piis  magnopere  confirmatis.     (Ibid.) 

||  Nemo  qui  non  commoveretur,  attonitus.    (Act.  Mart.  lat. 

IT  Instar  aspidis  serpentis  aures  omui  siirditate  affectas.  (Act. 
Mart.  lat.  p.  183.) 
T*  Utrisque  manos  digitos  lamina  vitreacrasit.    (Ibid.  p.  66.) 


THE  GOSPEL  EXPELLED  FROM  GAP— ANEMOND  DE  COOT— HIS  ZEAL.        343 


throwing  over  him  the  habit  of  a  layman,  they  handed 
him  over  to  the  secular  power,  which  doomed  him  to 
be  burnt  alive.  The  fire  was  quickly  lighted,  and  the 
servant  of  Christ  consumed  in  the  flames.  "  Never- 
theless," observe  the  historians  of  the  Gsjlican  Church, 
who,  in  other  respects,  are  loud  in  commendation  of 
these  acts  of  rigour,  "  Lutheranism  spread  through  all 
the  districts  of  Metz." 

From  the  moment  this  storm  had  descended  on  the 
church  of  Metz,  distress  and  alarm  had  prevailed  in 
the  household  of  Touissaint.  His  uncle,  the  dean, 
without  taking  an  active  part  in  the  measures  resorted 
to  against  Leclerc  and  Chatelain,  shuddered  at  the 
thought  that  his  nephew  was  one  among  those  people. 
His  mother's  fears  were  still  more  aroused  :  not  a  mo- 
ment was  to  be  lost ;  all  who  had  given  ear  to  the  evan- 
gelic doctrine  felt  their  liberty  and  lives  to  be  in  danger. 
The  blood  shed  by  the  the  inquisitors  had  but  increas- 
ed their  thirst  for  more.  New  scaffolds  would  ere 
long  be  erected  :  Pierre  Touissaint,  the  knight  Esch, 
and  others  besides,  hastily  quitted  Metz,  and  sought 
refuge  at  Basle. 

Thus  violently  did  the  storm  of  persecution  rage  at 
Meaux  and  at  Metz.  Repulsed  from  the  northern  pro- 
vinces, the  Gospel  for  a  while  seemed  to  give  way  ; 
but  the  Reformation  did  but  change  its  ground,  and 
the  south-eastern  provinces  became  the  basis  and 
theatre  of  the  movement. 

Farel,  who  had  retired  to  the  foot  of  the  Alps,  was 
labouring  actively  in  his  work.  It  was  a  small  thing 
to  him  to  enjoy  in  the  bosom  of  his  family  the  sweets 
of  domestic  life.  The  report  of  the  events  that  had 
taken  place  at  Meaux  and  at  Paris  had  communicated 
a  degree  of  terror  to  his  brothers ;  but  a  secret  influ- 
ence attracted  them  toward  those  new  and  wonderous 
truths  which  their  brother  William  was  in  the  habit  of 
dwelling  upon.  The  latter,  with  all  the  earnestness  of 
his  character,  besought  them  to  be  converted  to  the 
Gospel  ;*  and  Daniel,  Walter,  and  Claude,  were  at 
length  won  over  to  that  God  whom  their  brother  de- 
clared to  them.  They  did  not  at  first  relinquish  the 
worship  of  their  forefathers,  but  when  persecution  arose 
they  boldly  suffered  the  loss  of  friends,  property,  and 
country,  for  the  liberty  to  worship  Christ. t 

The  brothers  of  Luther  and  Zwingle  do  not  appear 
to  have  been  so  decidedly  converted,  to  the  Gospel. 
The  Reformation  in  France  had  from  its  outset  a  pe- 
culiarly domestic  character. 

Farel's  exhortations  were  not  confined  to  his  broth- 
ers. He  made  known  the  truth  to  his  relatives  and 
friends  at  Gap  and  its  vicinity.  It  would  even  appear, 
if  we  give  credit  to  one  manuscript,  that,  availing  him- 
self of  the  friendship  of  certain  ecclesiastics,  he  began 
to  preach  the  Gospel  in  some  of  the  churches  ;J  but 
other  authorities  affirm  that  he  did  not  at  this  time  oc- 
cupy the  pulpit.  However  that  may  be,  the  opinions 
he  professed  were  noised  abroad,  and  both  priests  and 
people  insisted  that  he  should  be  silenced  :  '  What 
new  and  strange  heresy  is  this  1"  said  they  ;  "  how 
can  we  think  that  all  the  practices  of  devotion  are  use- 
less ?  The  man  is  neither  monk  nor  priest :  he  has  no 
business  to  preach."^ 

It  was  not  long  before  the  whole  of  the  authorities, 
civil  and  ecclesiastical,  were  combined  against  Farel. 
It  was  sufficiently  evident  he  was  acting  with  that  sect 
which  was  everywhere  spoken  against.  "  Let  us  cast 
out  from  amongst  us,"  cried  they,  "  this  firebrand  of 

*  MS.  of  Choupard. 

f  Farel,  says  a  French  MS.  preserved  at  Geneva,  was  a  gen- 
tleman  in  station,  of  ample  fortune,  which  he  gave  up  for  the 
sake  of  his  religion— as  did  also  three  of  his  brothers. 

t  II  precha  1'Evangile  publiquement  avec  une  grande  liber- 
te.  (MS.  of  Choupard.) 

§  Ibid.    Hist,  des  Eveq.  de  Nismes,  1738. 


discord."  Farel  was  summoned  before  the  judges, 
roughly  handled,  and  forcibly  expelled  the  city.'1* 

Yet  he  did  not  forsake  his  country — the  open  plains 
and  villages— the  banks  of  the  Durance,  of  the  Gui- 
sanne,  of  the  Isere — was  there  not  many  a  soul  in 
those  localities  that  stood  in  need  of  the  Gospel  1  and 
if  he  should  run  any  risk,  were  not  these  forests, 
caverns,  and  steep  rocks,  which  had  been  the  fami- 
liar haunts  of  his  childhood,  at  hand  to  afford  him  their 
shelter  1  He  began,  therefore,  to  traverse  the  country, 
preaching  in  private  dwellings  and  secluded  meadows, 
and  retiring  for  shelter  to  the  woods  and  overhanging 
torrents.f  It  was  a  training  by  which  God  was  pre- 
paring him  for  other  trials  :  "  Crosses,  persecutions, 
and  the  lyings-in-wait  of  Satan,  of  which  I  had  intima- 
tion, were  not  wanting,"  said  he  ;  "  they  were  even 
much  more  than  I  could  have  borne  in  my  own  strength, 
but  God  is  my  father :  He  has  ministered,  and  will 
for  ever  minister  to  me  all  needful  strength."!  Very 
many  of  the  inhabitants  of  these  countries  received 
the  truth  from  his  lips  ;  and  thus  the  same  persecution 
that  drove  Farel  from  Paris  and  Meaux,  was  the  means 
of  diffusing  the  Reformation  in  the  countries  of  the 
Saone,  the  Rhone,  and  the  Alps.  In  all  ages,  it  has 
been  found  that  they  who  have  been  scattered  abroad, 
have  gone  everywhere  preaching  the  word  of  God.§" 

Among  the  Frenchmen  who  were  at  this  time  gained 
over  to  the  Gospel,  was  a  Dauphinese  gentleman,  the 
Knight  Anemond  de  Coct,  the  younger  son  of  the 
the  auditor  of  Coct,  the  lord  of  Chatelard.  Active, 
ardent,  truly  pious,  and  opposed  to  the  generally  re- 
ceived veneration  of  relics,  processions,  and  clergy, 
Anemond  readily  received  the  evangelic  doctrine,  and 
was  soon  entirely  devoted  to  it.  He  could  not  pa- 
tiently endure  the  formality  that  reigned  around  him, 
and  it  was  his  wish  to  see  all  the  ceremonies  of  the 
Church  abolished.  The  religion  of  the  heart,  the  in- 
ward worship  of  the  Spirit,  was  everything  in  his  es- 
timation. "  Never,"  said  he,  "  has  my  mind  found  any 
rest  in  externals.  The  sum  of  Christianity  is  in  that 
text — '  John  truly  baptized  with  water,  but  ye  shall  be 
baptized  with  the  Holy  Ghost.'  We  must  become 
'  new  creatures.'  "|| 

Coct,  endued  with  the  vivacity  of  his  nation,  spoke 
and  wrote  one  day  in  French,  the  next  in  Latin.  He 
read  and  quoted  Donatus,  Thomas  Aquinas,  Juvenal, 
and  the  Bible  !  His  style  was  brief,  and  marked  by 
abrupt  transitions.  Ever  restless,  he  would  present 
himself  wherever  a  door  seemed  to  be  open  to  the 
Gospel,  or  a  famous  teacher  was  to  be  heard.  His 
cordiality  won  the  affection  of  all  his  acquaintances. 
"  He  is  a  man  of  distinction,  both  for  his  birth  and  his 
learning,"  observed  Zwinglo,  at  a  later  period,  "  but 
yet  more  distinguished  for  his  piety  and  obliging  dis- 
position."^ Anemond  is  a  sort  of  type  of  many  French- 
men of  the  Reformed  opinions  :  vivacity,  simplicity,  a 
zeal  which  passes  readily  into  imprudence — such  are 
the  qualities  often  recurring  among  those  of  his  coun- 
trymen who  have  embraced  the  Gospel.  But  at  the 
very  opposite  extreme  of  the  French  character,  we  be- 
hold the  grave  aspect  of  Calvin,  serving  as  a  weighty 
counterpoise  to  the  light  step  of  Coct.  Calvin  and 
Anemond,  are,  as  the  two  poles  between  whom  the 
religious  world  of  France  revolves. 

*  II  fut  chasse,  voire  fort  rudement,  tant  par  I'eveque  que 
par  ceux  de  la  ville.  (MS.  of  Choupard.) 

t  Olira  errabundas  in  sylvis,  in  nemoribus,  in  aquis  vagatus 
sum.  (Farel  ad  Capit.  de  Bucer.  Basil  25th  Oct.  1526.  MS. 
of  Neufchatel.) 

J  Non  defuere  crux,  perseoutio  et  Satanae  machinamenta 
. .  .  (Farel  Galeoto.)  §  Acts  viii. 

(Nunquam  in  externis  quievit  spiritus  meus.     (Coctus  Fa- 
lo,  MS.  of  the  Conclave  of  Neufchatel.) 
IT  Virum  est  genere,  doctrinaque  clarum,  itapietate  humani- 
teque  longe  clariorem.     (Zw.  Epp.  p  319. 


544      PIERRE  DE  SEBVILLE-ANEMOND  VISITS  LUTHER— LUTHER'S  LETTER, 


No  sooner  had  Anemond  received  from  Farel  the 
knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ,*  than  he  set  about  winning 
souls  to  that  doctrine  of  "  spirit  and  life."  His  father, 
was  no  more.  His  elder  brother— -of  a  stern  and 
haughty  temper — disdainfully  repulsed  his  advances. 
Laurent — the  youngest  of  the  family,  and  affection- 
ately attached  to  him— seemed  but  half  to  enter  into 
the  understanding  of  his  words,  and  Anemond,  disap- 
pointed in  his  own  family,  turned  his  activity  in  another 
direction. 

Hitherto  it  was  among  the  laity  only  that  this  awak- 
ening in  Dauphiny  had  been  known.  Farel,  Anemond, 
and  their  friends,  wished  much  to  sec  a  priest  taking 
the  lead  in  the  movement,  which  promised  to  make  It- 
self felt  throughout  the  Alps.  There  dwelt  at  Gre- 
noble a  curate — a  minorite,  by  name  Pierre  de  Seb- 
ville,  famed  for  the  eloquence  of  his  preaching,  right- 
minded  and  simple—"  conferring  not  with  flesh  and 
blood,"  and  whom  God,  by  gradual  process,  was  draw- 
ing to  the  knowledge  of  Himself. t  It  was  not  long  be- 
fore Sebville  was  brought  to  the  acknowledgment  that 
there  is  no  unerring  teacher  save  the  word  of  the  Lord  ; 
and,  relinquishing  such  teaching  as  rests  only  on  the 
witness  of  men,  he  determined  in  his  heart  to  preach 
a  Gospel,  at  once,  "  clear,  pure,  and  holy."t  These 
three  words  exhibit  the  complete  character  of  the  Re- 
formation. Coct  and  Farel  rejoiced  to  hear  this  new 
preacher  of  Grace,  raising  his  powerful  voice  in  their 
country  ;  and  they  concluded  that  their  own  presence 
would  thenceforth  be  less  necessary. 

The  more  the  awakening  spread,  the  more  violently 
did  opposition  arise.  Anemond,  longing  to  know  more 
of  Luther,  Zwingle,  and  of  the  countries  which  had 
been  the  birth-place  of  the  Reformation,  and  indignant 
at  finding  the  Gospel  rejected  by  his  own  countrymen, 
resolved  to  bid  farewell  to  his  country  and  family. 
He  made  his  will— settling  his  property,  then  in  the 
hands  of  his  elder  brother,  the  lord  of  Chatelard,  on 
his  brother  Laurent.^  This  done,  he  quitted  Dauphi- 
ny and  France,  and  passing  over,  with  impetuous  haste, 
countries  which  were  then  not  traversed  without  much 
difficulty,  he  went  through  Switzerland,  and  scarcely 
stopping  at  Basle,  arrived  at  Wiltembcrg,  where  Lu- 
ther then  was*  It  was  shortly  after  the  second  diet  of 
Nuremberg.  The  French  gentleman  accosted  the 
Saxon  Doctor  with  his  accustomed  vivacity,  spoke  with 
enthusiastic  warmth  concerning  the  Gospel,  and  dwelt 
largely  on  the  plans  he  had  formed  for  the  propagation 
of  the  truth.  The  grave  Saxon  smiled  as  he  listened 
to  the  southern  imagination  of  the  speaker ;  and  Lu- 
ther,ll  who  had  some  prejudices  against  the  national 
character  of  the  French,  was  won,  and  carried  away 
by  Anemond.  The  thought,  that  this  gentleman  had 
made  the  journey  from  France  to  Wittemberg,  for  the 
Gospel's  sake,  affected  him.f  "  Certainly,"  remarked 
the  Reformer  to  his  friends,  "  that  French  knight  is  an 
excellent  man,  and  both  learned  and  pious  :"**  anc 
Zwingle  formed  a  similar  opinion  of  him. 

Anemond  having  seen  what  had  been  effected  by  the 
agency  of  Luther  and  Zwingle,  imagined  that  if  they 

*  In  a  letter  to  Farel,  he  signs :— Filiut  tuus  humiUs.  (5 
Sept.  1524.) 

t  Pater  coslestis  animum  sic  tuum  ad  se  traxit.  (Zwingliu 
SebvillJE,  Epp.  p.  320.) 

\  Nitide,  pure,  sancteque  praedicare  in  animum  inducis 
(Ibid.) 

^  "  My  brother  Anemond  Coct,  when  setting  forth  from  thi 
country,  made  me  his  heir."  (MS.  Letters  in  the  Library  a 
Neufchatel.) 

||  •'  Mire  ardens  in  Evangelium,"  said  Luther  to  Spalatin 
(Epp.  ii.  p.  340.)  "  Sehr  briinstig  in  der  Herrlichkeit  de 
Evangelii,"  said  he  to  the  Duke  of  Savoy.  (Ibid.  p.  401.) 

f  Evangelii  gratia  hue  profectus  e  Gallia.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p 
340) 

**  Hie  Gallus  eques  . .  .  optimus  vir  est,  eruditua  ac  piu 
(Ibid.) 


ould  but  take  in  hand  France  and  Savoy,  nothing 
ould  stand  against  them  ;  and  accordingly,  failing  to 
ersuade  them  to  remove  thither,  he  earnestly  desired 
iem  that,  at  least,  they  would  write.  He  particularly 
esought  Luther  to  address  a  letter  to  Charles,  Duke 
>f  Savoy,  brother  of  Louisa  and  of  Philibert,  and  uncle 
o  Francis  the  First  and  Margaret.  "  That  prince," 
bserved  he  to  Luther,  "  is  much  drawn  to  piety  and 
rue  religion,*  and  he  takes  pleasure  in  conversing  con- 
erning  the  Reformation  with  certin  persons  at  his 
ourt.  He  is  just  the  one  to  enter  into  your  views — 
or  his  motto  is  '  Nihil  deest  timenti  bus  Deum  ;'t  and 
iat  is  your  own  rnaxim.  Assailed  alternately  by  the 
~mpire  and  by  France,  humbled,  broken  in  spirit,  and 
ontinually  in  danger,  his  heart  knows  its  need  of  God 
nd  His  grace  :  all  he  wants  is  to  be  impelled  to  action, 
nee  gained  over  to  the  Gospel,  his  influence  would  be 
mmense  in  Switzerland,  Savoy,  and  France.  Pray 
write  to  him." 

Luther  was  a  thorough  German,  and  would  not  have 
een  at  ease  beyond  the  frontier  of  his  own  nation.  Yet, 

true  Catholicity  c-f  heart,  his  hand  was  immediately 
nit  out  where  he  recognised  brethren  ;  and  wherever 

word    might  be  spoken  with  effect,  he  took  care 
o  make  it  heard.     Sometimes,  on  the  same  day,  he 
would  write  letters  to  countries  separated  by  the  widest 
istances — as  the  Netherlands,  Savoy,  Livonia. 

"  Assuredly,"  he  answered  Anemond,  "  a  love  for 
lie  Gospel  is  a  rare  and  inestimable  jewel  in  a  prince's 
rown.'  t  And  he  proceeded  to  write  to  the  duke  a 
etter  which  Anemond  probably  carried  with  him  as 
ar  as  Switzerland. 

"  I  beg  your  highness's  pardon,"  wrote  Luther,  "  if 
,  a  poor  and  unfriended  monk,  venture  to  address 
ou ;  or,  rather,  I  would  ask  of  your  highness  to  as- 
:ribe  this  boldness  of  mine  to  the  glory  of  the  Gospel 
— for  I  cannot  see  that  glorious  light  arise  and  shine 
n  any  quarter  without  exulting  at  the  sight  .  .  .  My 
lope  is,  that  my  Lord  Jesus  Christ  may  win  over  many 
ouls  by  the  power  of  your  serene  highness's  example. 
Therefore,  it  is,  I  desire  to  instruct  you  in  our  teaching. 
We  believe  that  the  very  beginning  of  salvation  and 
he  sum  of  Christianity  consists  in  faith  in  Christ,  who, 
>y  his  blood  alone,  and  not  by  any  works  of  ours,  has 
ut  away  sin,  and  destroyed  the  power  of  death.  We 
jelieve  that  this  faith  is  God's  gift,  formed  in  our  hearts 
jy  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  not  attained  by  any  effort  of 
our  own — for  faith  is  a  principle  of  life,$  begetting  man 
spiritually,  and  making  him  a  new  creature." 

Luther  passed  then  to  the  effects  of  faith,  and  showed 
that  it  was  not  possible  to  be  possessed  of  that  faith 
without  the  superstructure  of  false  doctrine  and  hu- 
man merits — built  up  so  laboriously  by  the  church — 
being  at  once  swept  away.  "  If  grace,"  said  he,  "  is 
the  purchase  of  Christ's  blood,  it  follows  that  it  is  not 
the  purchase  of  works  of  ours.  Hence  the  train  of 
works  of  all  the  cloisters  in  the  world  are,  for  this 
purpose,  useless  :  and  such  institutions  should  be  abo- 
lished, as  opposed  to  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  as 
leading  men  to  trust  in  their  own  good  works.  In- 
grafted in  Christ,  nothing  remains  for  us  but  to  do 
good  ;  because,  being  become  good  trees,  we  ought  to 
give  proof  of  it  by  bearing  good  fruits. 

"Gracious  prince  and  lord,"  said  Luther,  in  con- 
clusion, "  may  your  highness,  having  made  so  happy 
a  beginning,  help  to  spread  this  doctrine — not  by  the 

*  Ein  grosser  Leibhaber  der  wahren  Religion  und  Gott- 
seligkeit.  (Ibid.  p.  401.) 

f  "  They  that  fear  God  shall  want  no  good  thing."  (Hist. 
Gen.  de  la  Maison  de  Savoie  par  Guichcnon,  ii.  p.  2-1S.) 

\  Eine  seltsame  Gabe  und  hohes  Kleinod  unter  den  Fursten. 
(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  401.) 

§  Der  Glaube  ist  ein  lebendig  Ding  . . .  (Ibid.  p.  502.)  The 
Latin  is  wanting. 


CECOLAMPADIUS  AND  FAREL-COWARDICE  OF  ERASMUS. 


345 


sword,  which  would  be  a  hindrance  to  the  Gospel — 
but  by  inviting  to  your  states  teachers  who  preach  the 
word.  It  is  by  the  breath  of  his  mouth  that  Jesus  will 
destroy  anti-Christ ;  so  that,  as  Daniel  describes,  he 
may  be  broken  without  hand.  Therefore,  most  serene 
prince,  let  your  highness  cherish  that  spark  that  has  been 
kindled  in  your  heart.  Let  a  flame  go  forth  from  the 
house  of  Savoy,  as  once  from  the  house  of  Joseph.* 
May  all  France  be  as  stubble  before  that  fire.  May  it 
burn,  blaze,  and  purify — that  so  that  renowned  king- 
dom may  truly  take  the  title-of  '  Most  Christian,'  which 
it  has  hitherto  received  only  in  reward  of  blood  shed 
in  the  cause  of  anti-Christ." 

Thus  did  Luther  endeavour  to  diffuse  the  Gospel 
in  France.  We  have  no  n.eans  of  knowing  the  effect 
of  this  letter  on  the  prince  ;  but  we  do  not  find  that 
he  ever  gave  signs  of  a  wish  to  detach  himself  from 
Rome.  In  1523  he  requested  Adrian  VI.  to  be  god- 
father to  his  first-born  son  :  and,  at  a  later  period,  we 
find  the  pope  promising  him  a  cardinal's  hat  for  his 
second  son.  Anemond,  after  making  an  effort  to  be 
admitted  to  see  the  court  and  Elector  of  Saxony,  t  and, 
for  this  purpose,  providing  himself  with  a  letter  from 
Luther,  returned  to  Basle,  more  than  ever  resolved  to 
risk  his  life  in  the  cause  of  the  Gospel.  In  the  ardour 
of  his  purpose,  he  would  have  roused  the  entire  na- 
tion. "  All  that  I  am,  or  ever  can  be,"  said  he,  "  all  I 
have,  or  ever  can  have,  it  is  my  earnest  desire  to  de- 
vote to  the  glory  of  God. "$ 

At  Basle,  Anemond  found  his  countryman  Farel. 
The  letters  of  Anemond  had  excited  in  him  a  great 
desire  to  be  personally  acquainted  with  the  Swiss  and 
German  Reformers.  Moreover,  Farel  felt  the  need  of 
a  sphere  in  which  his  activity  might  be  more  freely 
put  forth.  He  accordingly  quitted  France,  which  alrea- 
dy offered  only  the  scaffold  to  the  preachers  of  a  pure 
Gospel.  Taking  to  by-paths,  and  hiding  in  the  woods, 
he  with  difficulty  escaped  out  of  the  hands  of  his  ene- 
mies. Often  had  he  mistaken  the  direction  in  which 
his  route  lay.  "  God,"  observes  he,  "  designs,  by  my 
helplessness  in  these  little  matters,  to  teach  me  how 
helpless  I  am  in  greater  things. "$ 

At  length  he  entered  Switzerland,  in  the  beginning 
of  1524.  There  he  was  destined  to  spend  his  life  in 
the  service  of  the  Gospel — and  then  it  was  that  France 
began  to  pour  into  Switzerland  those  noble  heralds  of 
the  Gospel,  who  were  to  seat  the  Reformation  in  Ro- 
mane  Switzerland,  and  communicate  to  it  a  new  and 
powerful  impulse  throughout,  and  far  beyond  the  limits 
of  the  confederated  cantons. 

The  Catholicity  of  the  Reformation  is  a  beautiful 
•character  in  its  history.  The  Germans  pass  into 
Switzerland— the  French  into  Germany,  and,  at  a 
somewhat  later  period,  we  see  the  English  and  the 
Scotch  passing  to  the  continent,  and  the  continental 
teachers  to  Great  Britain.  The  Reformations  of  the 
several  countries  take  their  rise  independently  of  each 
other — but  as  soon  as  they  look  around  them,  their 
hands  are  held  out  to  etch  other.  To  them  there  is 
one  Faith,  one  Spirit,  one  Lord.  It  is  an  error  to 
treat  the  history  of  the  Reformation  in  connexion  with 
any  single  country.  The  work  was  one  and  the  same 
in  all  lands  ;  and  the  Protestant  churches  were  from  the 
very  beginning  a  u  whole  body,  fitly  joined  together."!! 

Certain  persons  who  had  fled  from  France  and  Lor- 
raine, at  this  time,  formed  in  the  city  of  Basle  a  French 

*  Das  cin  Feuer  von  dem  Rause  Sophoy  ausgefce.  (L.  Epp. 
ii.  p.  406 ) 

t  Vult  videre  aiil&m  et  faciem  Principis  nostri.    (Tb.  p.  340.) 

j  Quidquid  sum,  habeo,  ero,  habebove,  ad  Dei  gloriam  insu- 
mere  meus  est.  (Coct.  Epp.  MS.  of  Neufchatel.) 

&  Voluit  Dominus  per  infirma  haec,  docere  quid  possit  homo 
in  majoribus.  (Farel  Capitoni.  Ibid,,) 

i(  EpU.  iv.  16. 

Uu 


church,  whose  members  had  escaped  from  the  scaf- 
fold. These  persons  had  spread  the  report  of  Lefe- 
vre,  Farel,  and  the  events  that  had  occurred  at  Meaux  ; 
and,  when  Farel  entered  Switzerland  he  was  already 
known  as  one  of  the  most  fearless  heralds  of  tho 
truth. 

He  was  immediately  introduced  to  (Ecolampadius, 
who,  some  time  before  this,  had  returnd  to  Basle.  Sel- 
dom does  it  happen  that  two  characters  more  opposite 
are  brought  together.  (Ecolampadius  charmed  by  his 
gentleness — Farol  carried  away  his  hearers  by  his  ear- 
nestness— but,  from  the  moment  they  met,  these  two 
men  felt  themselves  one  in  heart.*  It  resembled  the 
first  meeting  of  Luther  and  Melancthon.  (Ecolampa- 
dius bade  him  welcome,  gave  him  an  apartment  in  his 
house,  received  him  at  his  table,  and  introduced  him 
to  his  friends, ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  the  learn- 
ing, piety,  and  courage  of  the  young  Frenchman,  won 
the  hearts  of  his  new  friends.  Pellican,  Imelia,  Wolf- 
hard,  and  others  of  the  preachers  of  Basle,  were  forti- 
fied in  their  faith  by  the  energy  of  his  exhortations. 
CEcolampadius  was  just  then  suffering  under  depres- 
sion of  spirits — "  Alas  !"  he  wrote  to  Zwingle,  "  it  is 
in  vain  I  preach — I  sfe  no  hope  of  any  effect  being 
produced.  Perhaps  among  the  Turks  I  might  succeed 
better.f  Oh !"  added  he,  sighing,  "  I  ascribe  the  fail- 
ure to  myself  alone."  But  the  more  he  saw  of  Fare!, 
the  more  his  heart  felt  encouragement  ;  and  the  cou- 
rage he  derived  from  the  Frenchman  laid  the  ground 
of  an  undying  affection.  "  Dear  Farel,"  said  he  to 
him,  "  I  trust  the  Lord  will  make  ours  a  friendship  for 
all  eternity — and  if  we  are  parted  below,  our  joy  will 
only  be  the  greater  when  we  shall  be  gathered  in  pre- 
sence of  Christ,  in  the  heavens  !"J  Pious  and  affect- 
ing thoughts.  The  coming  of  Farel  was  evidently 
help  from  above. 

But  while  the  Frenchman  took  delight  in  the  society 
of  QEcolampadius,  he  drew  back  with  cool  indepen- 
dence from  a  man  at  whose  feet  the  principal  nations 
of  Christendom  paid  homage.  The  prince  of  scholars 
— the  man  whose  smile  and  words  were  objects  of 
general  ambition — the  teacher  of  that  age — Erasmus— 
was  passed  over  by  Farel.  The  young  Dauphinese 
had  declined  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  venerated  phi- 
losopher of  Rotterdam — having  no  relish  for  those  who 
are  never  more  than  half-hearted  for  truth,  and  who,  in 
the  clear  understanding  of  the  consequences  of  error, 
are  nevertheless  full  of  allowances  for  those  who  pro- 
pagate it.  Accordingly  we  have  in  Farel  that  deci- 
sion which  has  become  one  of  the  distinguishing  cha- 
racters of  the  Reformation  in  France,  and  in  those 
cantons  of  Switzerland  bordering  on  France — charac- 
ters which  have  been  by  some  deemed  stiffness,  ex- 
clusiveness,  and  intolerance.  A  controversy  had  com- 
menced between  Erasmus  and  Lefevre,  arising  out  of 
the  commentaries  put  forth  by  the  latter — and  in  all 
companies  parties  were  divided  for  the  one  arid  against 
the  other.§  Farel  had  unhesitatingly  ranged  himself 
on  the  side  of  his  teacher.  But  that  which  chiefly 
roused  his  indignation  was  the  cowardly  course  pursued 
by  the  philosopher  toward  the  evangelical  party. 
Erasmus's  doors  were  closed  against  them.  That 
being  the  case,  Farel  will  not  enter  them  !  to  him,  this 
was  felt  to  be  no  loss  ;  convinced  as  he  was  that  the 
very  ground  of  a  true  theology — the  piety  of  the  heart 

*  Amicam  semper  habui  a  primo  coltoquio.  (Farel  ad  Bui- 
ling.  27th  May,  1556.) 

|  Fortasse  in  mediis  Turcis  felicius  deouissem.  (Zvr.  et 
Ecol.  Epp.  p.  200) 

\  Mi  Farelle,  spero  Doimnum  congervatnrum  amicitiara 
nostram  immortalem  ;  et  si  hie  conjnngi  nequimus,  tanto  bea- 
tius  alibi  apud  Christum  erit  contubernium.  (Zw.  et  (EcoL 
ttpp.  p.  201.) 

§  Nullua.  est  pene  cxmviviuw  . . .  (Er.  Epp,  p.  179,) 


34G 


FRENCH  FRANKNESS— "BALAAM"— FAEEL'S  PROPOSITIONS. 


— was  wanting  to  Erasmus.  "  Frobenius's  wife  knows 
more  of  theology  than  he  does,"  remarked  Farel  ;  and 
stung  by  the  intelligence  that  Erasmus  had  written  to 
to  the  Pope,  advising  him  how  to  set  about  "  extin- 
guishing the  spread  of  Lutheranism,"*  he  publicly 
declared  that  Erasmus  was  endeavouring  to  stifle  the 
Gospel. 

This  independence  of  young  Farel  disturbed  the 
composure  of  the  man  of  learning.  Princes,  kings, 
learned  men,  bishops,  priests,  and  men  of  the  world, 
all  were  ready  to  offer  him  the  tribute  of  their  admira- 
tion :  Luther  himself  had  treated  him  with  respect,  so 
far  as  he  was  personally  mixed  up  in  this  controversy  ; 
and  this  Dauphinese — a  nameless  refugee — ventured 
to  brave  his  power.  So  insolent  a  freedom  caused 
Erasmus  more  annoyance  than  the  homage  of  the 
world  at  large  could  give  him  joy.  and  hence  he  lost 
no  opportunity  of  venting  his  spite  against  Farel. 
Moreover,  in  assailing  him  he  contributed  to  clear  him- 
self, in  the  judgment  of  the  Roman  Catholics,  of  the 
suspicion  of  heresy — "  I  never  met  with  such  a  liar — 
such  a  restless  seditious  spirit  as  that  man,"f  observed 
he  ;  "  his  heart  is  full  of  vanity,  and  his  tongue  charged 
with  malice."t  But  the  anger%of  Erasmus  did  not 
stop  at  Farel — it  was  directed  against  all  the  French- 
men who  had  sought  refuge  at  Basle,  and  whose  frank- 
ness and  decision  were  an  offence  to  him.  They  paid 
evidently  no  respect  to  persons  ;  and  wherever  the 
truth  was  not  frankly  confessed,  they  took  no  notice 
of  the  man,  how  great  soever  his  genius  might  be. 
Wanting,  perhaps,  in  the  graciousness  of  the  Gospel, 
there  was  in  their  faithfulness  that  which  reminds  one 
of  the  prophets  of  old — and  it  is  truly  delightful  to 
contemplate  men  who  stand  erect  before  that  to  which 
the  world  bows  down.  Erasmus,  astonished  by  this 
lofty  disdain,  complained  of  it  in  all  companies. 
"  What  mean  we,"  wrote  he  to  Melancthon,  "  to 
reject  pontiffs  and  bishops,  only  to  submit  to  the  in- 
solence of  more  cruel  ragamuffin  tyrants  and  madmen,^ 
for  such  it  is  that  France  has  given  us."  "  There 
are  some  Frenchmen,"  he  wrote  to  the  Pope's  secre- 
tary (at  the  same  time  sending  him  his  book  on  Free 
Will,)  "  who  are  even  more  insane  than  the  Germans 
themselves.  They  have  ever  on  their  lips  these 
five  words — Gospel — Word  of  God— Faith— Christ 
— Holy  Spirit — and  yet  I  doubt  not  but  that  it  is  the 
spirit  of  Satan  that  urges  them  on. "I!  In  place  of 
Farellus  he  often  wrote  Fallicus,  thus  designating  as 
a  cheat  and  deceiver,  one  of  the  most  frank-hearted 
men  of  his  age. 

The  rage  and  anger  of  Erasmus  were  at  their  height, 
when  information  arrived  that  Farel  had  termed  him 
a  Balaam.  Farel  thought  that  Erasmus,  like  that 
prophet,  was  (perhaps  unconsciously)  swayed  by  gifts 
to  curse  the  people  of  God.  The  man  of  learning,  no 
longer  able  to  restrain  himself,  resolved  to  chastise  the 
daring  Dauphinese  :  and  one  day,  when  Farel  was  dis- 
cussing certain  topics  of  Christian  doctrine  with  some 
friends,  in  the  presence  of  Erasmus,  the  latter  rudely 
interrupted  him  with  the  question — "  On  what  grounc 
do  you  call  me  Balaam  ?"^T  Farel,  who  was  at  first 
disconcerted  by  the  abruptness  of  the  question,  soon 
recovered  himself,  and  made  answer  that  it  was  not  he 
who  had  given  him  that  name.  Being  pressed  to  sai 

*  Consilium  quo  sic  extinguatur  incendium  Lutheranum 
(Er.  Epp.  p.  179.) 

t  Quo  nihil  vidi  mendacius,  virulentius,  et  seditiosius.  (Ib 
p.  798.) 

I  AcidaB  linguas  et  vanissimus.    (Ibid.  p.  2129.) 

&  Scabiosos  .  . .  rabiosos  .  .  .  nam  nuper  nobis  misit  Gallia 
(Ibid.  p.  350.) 

||  Non  duitem  quin  agantur  spiritu  Satanse.  (Er.  Epp.  p 
350.) 

H  Diremi  disputationem . . .  (Ibid.  p.  804.) 


who  it  was,  he  mentioned  Du  Blet  of  Lyons,  who  like 
imself  had  sought  refuge  at  Basle.*  "  Perhaps  ho 
nay  have  made  use  of  the  expression,"  replied  Eras- 
nus,  "  but  it  is  yourself  who  taught  it  him."  Then 
shamed  to  have  lost  his  temper,  he  hastily  changed 
lie  subject :  "  Why  is  i,"  asked  he,  "  that  you  assert 
bat  we  are  not  to  invoke  the  saints  ?  Is  it  because 
loly  Scripture  does  not  enjoin  the  practice  ?"  "  It 
s,"  answered  the  Frenchman.  "  Well,"  said  the 
lan  of  learning,  4<  I  call  on  you  to  show  from  Scrip- 
ure  that  we  should  invoke  the  Holy  Ghost  1"  Farel 
ave  this  clear  and  solid  answer  :  "  If  He  be  God,  we 
must  invoke  Him."t  "  I  dropped  the  conversation," 
aid  Erasmus,  "  for  the  night  was  closing  in  "J  From 
hat  time,  whenever  Farel's  name  came  under  his  pen, 
he  opportunity  was  taken  to  represent  him  as  a  hateful 
erson,  on  every  account  to  be  shunned.  The  Re- 
ormer's  letters  are,  on  the  contrary,  marked  by  mode- 
ation  as  regards  Erasmus.  Even  in  those  most  con- 
titutionally  hasty,  the  Gospel  is  a  more  gracious  thing 
tian  Philosophy. 

The  Evangelic  doctrine  had  already  many  friends 
n  Basle,  in  the  town-council,  and  among  the  people  ; 
ut  the  Doctors  and  the  University  opposed  it  to  the 
tmost  of  their  power.  CEcolampadius  and  Stor, 
>astor  at  Liestal,  had  maintained  certain  theses  against 
bem.  Farel  thought  it  well  to  assert  in  Switzerland 
.Iso  the  great  maxim  of  the  Evangelic  school  of  Paris 
nd  of  Meaux — God's  Word  is  all-sufficient.  He  re- 
juested  permission  of  the  University  to  maintain  some 
heses — "  the  rather,"  he  modestly  added,  '« to  be 
eproved  if  I  am  in  error,  than  to  teach  others. "$  But 
.he  University  refused  its  permission. 

Farel  then  appealed  to  the  council,  and  the  council 
ssued  public  notice,  that  a  Christian  man,  by  name 
iVilliam  Farel,  having,  by  the  inspiration  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  prepared  certain  articles  conformable  to  the 
~ospel,|j  leave  was  given  him  to  maintain  the  same  in- 
..atin.  The  University  forbade  all  priests  and  students 
o  be  present  at  the  conference,  and  the  council  mel 
he  prohibition  by  one  of  an  opposite  tenor. 

The  following  are  some  of  the  thirteen  propositions 
,hat  Farel  put  forth  : 

"  Christ  has  left  us  the  most  perfect  rule  of  life  ;  no 
one  can  lawfully  take  away,  or  add  anything  thereto." 

"  To  shape  our  lives  by  any  other  precepts  than  those 
of  Christ,  leads  directly  to  impiety." 

u  The  true  ministry  of  priests  is  to  attend  only  to. 
he  ministry  of  the  Word  ;  and  for  them  there  is  no 
bigher  dignity." 

'  To  take  from  the  certainty  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ, 
is  to  destroy  it." 

"  He  who  thinks  to  be  justified  by  any  strength  or 
merits  of  his  own,  and  not  by  faith,  puts  himself  in  the 
place  of  God." 

"  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  head  over  all  things,  is  our 
polar  star,  and  the  only  guide  we  ought  to  follow."^" 

Thus  did  this  native  of  France  stand  up  at  Basic.** 
A  child  of  the  mountains  of  Dauphiny,  brought  up  at 
Paris,  at  the  feet  of  Lefevre,  thus  boldly  proclaimed  in 
the  celebrated  Swiss  University,  and  in  presence  of 

*  Ut  diceret  negotiatorem  quemdam  Duple  turn  hox  dixisse. 
(Ibid.  2 129.) 

f  Si  Deus  est,  inquit,  invocandus  est.    (Er.  Epp.  p.  804.'* 

\  Omissa  disputatione,  nam  imminebat  nox.  (Ibid.)  We 
have  only  Erasmus' account  of  this  conversation  ;  he  himself 
reports  that  Farel  gave  a  very  different  account  of  it. 

\  Damit  er  gelehrt  werde,  ober  irre.  (Fussli  Beytr.  iv.  p. 
244.) 

||  Aus  Eingiessung  des  heiligen  Geistes  ein  christlicher 
Mensch  und  Bruder.  (Ibid.) 

1T  Ouilelmus  Farellus  Christianis  lectoribus,  die  Martis  post 
Reminiscere.  (Fussli  Beytr.  iv .  p.  247.)  Fussli  does  not  give 
the  Latin  text. 

**  Schedam  conclusionam  a  Gallo  illo.    (Z\\.  Epp.  p.  333.) 


THE  REFORMATION  DEFENDED— ORDINATION  OF  FAREL. 


347 


Erasmus,  the  great  principles  of  the  Reformation. 
Two  leadings  ideas  pervaded  Farel's  theses — the  one 
involved  a  return  to  the  Scripture,  the  other  a  return  to 
the  Faith — two  movements  distinctly  condemned  by 
the  Papacy,  at  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
as  heretical  and  impious,  in  the  celebrated  constitution 
Unigenitus,  and  which,  ever  closely  connected  with 
each  other,  in  reality  overturn  the  whole  of  the  Papal 
system.  If  Faith  in  Christ  is  the  beginning  and  end 
of  Christianity,  the  word  of  Christ,  and  not  the  voice 
of  the  Church  is  that  to  which  we  must  adhere.  Nor 
is  ihis  all ;  for  if  Faith  unites  in  one  the  souls  of  be- 
lievers, what  signifies  an  external  bond  1  Can  that 
hoiy  union  depend  for  its  existence  on  croziers,  bulls, 
or  tiaras  1  Faith  knits  together  in  spiritual  and  true 
oneness  all  those  in  whose  hearts  it  has  taken  up  its 
abode.  Thus  at  one  blow  disappeared  the  triple  de- 
lusion of  human  deservings,  traditions  of  men,  and 
simulated  unity.  And  these  compose  the  sum  of  Ro- 
man Catholicism. 

The  discussion  was  opened  in  Latin.*  Farel  and 
CEcolampadius  stated  and  established  their  articles, 
calling  repeatedly  upon  those  who  differed  from  them 
to  make  answer ;  but  none  answered  to  the  call.  The 
sophists,  as  (Ecolampadius  terms  them,  boldly  denied 
them — but  from  their  skulking  corners. t  The  people 
therefore  began  to  look  with  contempt  upon  the  cow- 
ardice of  their  priests,  and  learned  to  despise  their 
tyranny.  J 

Thus  did  Farel  take  his  stand  among  the  defenders 
of  the  Reformation.  So  much  learning  and  piety  re- 
joiced the  hearts  of  observers,  and  already  more  signal 
victories  were  looked  forward  to.  "  He  is  singly  more 
than  a  match  for  all  the  Sorbonne  put  together,"^  said 
they.  His  openness,  sincerity,  and  candour,  charmed 
all.ll  But  in  the  very  height  of  his  activity  he  did  not 
forget  that  every  mission  must  begin  at  our  own  souls. 
The  mild  (Ecolampadius  made  with  the  earnest-heart- 
ed Farel  an  agreement,  by  which  they  mutually  en- 
gaged to  exercise  themselves  in  humility  and  gentleness 
in  their  familiar  intercourse.  Thus  on  the  very  field 
of  contention  were  these  courageous  men  engaged  in 
composing  their  souls  to  peace.  The  impetuous  zeal 
of  Luther  and  of  Farel  were  not  unfrequently  neces- 
sary virtues  ;  for  a  degree  of  effort  is  required  to  move 
society  and  recast  the  Church.  In  our  days  we  are 
very  apt  to  forget  this  truth,  which  then  was  acknow- 
ledged by  men  of  the  mildest  character.  "  Some  there 
are,"  said  CEcolampadius  to  Luther,  in  introducing 
Farel  to  him,  "  who  would  moderate  his  zeal  against 
the  opposers  of  the  truth  ;  but  I  cannot  help  discern- 
ing in  that  same  zeal  a  wonderful  virtue,  and  which, 
if  but  well  directed,  is  not  less  needed  than  gentleness 
itselff  Posterity  has  ratified  tho  judgment  of  CEco- 
lampadius. 

In  the  month  of  May,  1524,  Farel,  with  some  friends 
from  Lyons,  repaired  to  SchafTKausen,  Zurich,  and 
Constance.  Zwingle  and  Myconius  welcomed  with 
the  liveliest  joy  the  French  refugee,  and  Farel  never 
forgot  the  kindness  of  that  welcome.  But  on  his  re- 
turn to  Basle  he  found  Erasmus  and  others  of  his  ene- 
mies at  work,  and  received  an  order  to  quit  the  city. 
His  friends  loudly  expressed  their  displeasure  at  this 
stretch  of  authority — but  in  vain,  and  he  was  driven 


*  Schedam  conclusionum  latine  apud  nos  disputatam.  (Ib.) 

f  Aguut  tamen  magnos  interim  thrasones,  sed  in  angulis 
lucifugae.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  333.) 

J  Incipit  tamen  plebs  paulatim  illorum  ignaviam  et  tyranni- 
dem  verbo  Dei  agnoscere.  (Ibid.) 

^  Ad  totam  Sorbonicam  alfligendam  si  non  et  perpendam. 
((£col.  Luthero,  Epp.  p.  200.) 

||  Farello  nihil  candidius  est.    (Ibid.) 

tf  Verum  ego  virtutem  illam  admirabilem  etnon  minus  pla- 
ciditate,  si  tempestive  fuerit,  necessariam.  (Ibid.) 


from  that  Swiss  territory,  which  was  even  then  regarded 
as  an  asylum  for  signal  misfortunes.  "  Such  is  our 
hospitality  !"  ejaculated  CEcolampadius  in  indignation: 
"  We  are  a  people  like  unto  Sodom."* 

At  Basle  Farel  had  contracted  a  close  friendship  with 
the  knight  D'Esch— the  latter  resolved  to  bear  him 
company,  and  they  set  forth,  provided  by  CEcolampa- 
dius with  letters  for  Capito  and  Luther,  to  whom  the 
doctor  of  Basle  commended  Farel  as  the  same  William 
who  had  laboured  so  abundantly  in  the  work  of  God.t 
At  Strasburg  Farel  formed  an  intimacy  with  Capito, 
Bucer,  and  Hedio — but  we  have  no  account  of  his 
having  gone  to  Wittemberg. 

When  God  withdraws  his  servants  from  the  field  of 
combat,  it  is  commonly  that  they  may  be  again  brought 
forward  in  increased  strength  and  more  completely 
armed  for  the  conflict.  Farel  and  his  companions  from 
Meaux,  from  Metz,  from  Lyons,  and  from  Dauphiny, 
driven  by  persecution  from  France,  had  been  tempered 
with  new  firmness  in  Switzerland  and  in  Germany, 
in  the  society  of  the  earlier  Reformers  ;  and  now,  like 
soldiers  scattered  by  the  first  charge  of  the  enemy,  but 
instantly  collecting  again  their  force,  they  were  about 
to  turn  round  and  go  forward  in  the  name  of  the  Lord. 
Not  only  on  the  frontiers,  but  in  the  interior  of  France, 
the  friends  of  the  Gospel  were  beginning  to  take  cou- 
rage. The  signal  was  made — the  combatants  were 
arming  for  the  assault — the  word  was  given.  "  Jesus, 
his  truth  and  grace  " — a  word  of  more  power  than  the 
clang  of  arms  in  the  tug  of  war,  filled  all  hearts  with 
enthusiasm,  and  all  gave  omen  of  a  campaign  pregnant 
with  new  victories,  and  new  and  more  wide-spreading 
calamities. 

Montbeliard  at  this  time  stood  in  need  of  a  labourer 
in  the  Gospel.  Duke  Ulric  of  Wurtemberg— young, 
impetuous,  and  cruel — having  been  dispossessed  of  his 
hereditary  states,  in  1519,  by  the  Suabian  league,  had 
retired  to  that  province,  his  last  remaining  possession. 
In  Switzerland  he  became  acquainted  with  the  Reform- 
ers. His  misfortunes  had  a  wholesome  effect,  and  he 
listened  to  the  truth.J  CEcolampadius  apprized  Farel 
that  a  door  was  opened  at  Montbeliard,  and  the  latter 
secretly  repaired  to  Basle. 

Farel  had  not  regularly  entered  on  the  ministry  of 
the  word  ;  but  at  this  period  of  his  life  we  see  in  him 
all  the  qualifications  of  a  servant  of  the  Lord.  It  was 
not  lightly  or  rashly  that  he  entered  the  service  of  the 
Church.  "  If  I  considered  my  own  qualifications," 
said  he,  "  I  would  not  have  presumed  to  preach,  but 
would  have  preferred  to  wait  till  the  Lord  should  send 
more  gifted  persons."^  But  he  received  at  this  time 
three  several  calls.  No  sooner  had  he  reached  Basle 
than  CEcolampadius,  moved  by  the  wants  of  France, 
besought  him  to  give  himself  to  the  work  there.  "  Con- 
sider," said  he,  "  how  little  Jesus  is  made  known  in 
their  language — will  you  not  teach  them  a  little  in  their 
own  dialect,  to  enable  them  to  understand  the  Scrip- 
tures."II  At  the  same  time  the  inhabitants  of  Mont- 
beliard invited  him  among  them,  and  lastly,  the  prince 
of  that  country  gave  his  assent  to  the  invitation.lT 
Was  not  this  a  thrice  repeated  call  from  God  1  .  .  "  I 
did  not  see,"  said  he,  "  how  I  could  refuse  to  act  upon 
it.'*  It  was  in  obedience  to  God  that  I  complied  with 

*  Adeo  hospitum  habemus  rationem,  veri  Sodomitae.  (Zw. 
Epp.  p  434.) 

f  Gulielmus  ille  qui  tarn  probe  navnvit  operam.  (Zw.  et 
CEcol.  Epp.  p.  175.', 

f  Le  prince  qui  avoit  cognoissance  de  1'Evangile.  (Farel. 
Summaire.) 

^  Summaire  c'est  a  dire,  brieve  declaration  de  G  Farel,  dans 
1'epilogue.  |j  Jbid. 

t  Etant  requis  et  demande  du  peuple  et  du  consentement  du 
prince.  (Ibid.) 

**  Summaire,  c'est  a  dire,  brieve  declaration  de  G  Farel, 
dans  1'epiiogue. 


348 


APOSTOLICAL  SUCCESSION— THE  GOSPEL  AT  LYONS. 


it."  Concealed  in  the  house  of  CEcolampadius,  little 
disposed  to  lake  the  responsible  post  offered  to  him, 
and  yet  constrained  to  yield  to  so  manifest  an  indication 
of  God's  will,  Farel  undertook  the  task — and  CEco- 
lampadius, calling  upon  the  Lord,  ordained  him,*  giv- 
ing him  at  the  same  time  some  wise  counsels.  "  The 
more  you  find  yourself  inclined  to  vehemence,"  said 
he,  "  the  more  must  you  exercise  yourself  to  maintain 
a  gentle  bearing ;  temper  your  lion  heart  with  the  soft- 
ness of  the  dove."t  The  soul  of  Farel  responded  to 
such  an  appeal. 

Thus  Farel — once  the  devoted  adherent  of  the  an- 
cient Church,  was  about  to  enter  on  the  life  of  a  servant 
of  God,  and  of  the  Church  in  its  renewed  youth.  If, 
in  order  to  a  valid  ordination,  Rome  requires  the  im- 
position of  the  hands  of  a  bishop  deriving  uninterrupt- 
ed succession  and  descent  from  the  Apostles,  she  does 
«o — because  she  sets  the  tradition  of  men  above  the 
authority  of  the  word  of  God.  Every  church  in  which 
the  supremacy  of  the  Word  is  not  acknowledged,  must 
needs  seek  authority  from  some  other  source  ; — and 
then,  what  more  natural  than  to  turn  to  the  most  rever- 
ed servants  of  God,  and  ask  of  them  what  we  do  not 
know  that  we  have  in  God  himself  1  If  we  do  not 
speak  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  is  it  not  at  least 
something  gained  to  be  able  to  speak  in  the  name  of 
St.  John  or  of  St.  Paul  ?  One  who  has  with  him  the 
roice  of  antiquity  is  indeed  more  than  a  match  for  the 
rationalist,  who  speak  only  his  own  thought.  But 
Christ's  minister  has  a  yet  higher  authority.  He 
preaches — not  because  he  is  the  successor  of  St.  Chry- 
sostom  or  St.  Peter — but  because  the  Word  which  he 
proclaims  is  from  God.  Successional  authority — ven- 
erable as  it  may  appear — is  yet  fio  more  than  a  thing 
of  man's  invention,  in  place  of  God's  appointment.  In 
Farel's  ordination,  wo  see  nothing  of  successionally 
derived  sanction.  Nay  more,  we  do  not  see  in  it  that 
which  becomes  the  congregations  of  the  Lord — among 
whom  everything  should  be  done  "  decently  and  in  or- 
der," and  whose  God  is  "  not  the  God  of  confusion." 
In  his  case  there  was  no  setting  apart  by  the  Church  ; 
but  then  extraordinary  emergencies  justify  extraordi- 
nary measures.  At  this  eventful  period,  God  himself 
was  interposing,  and  Himself  ordaining,  by  marvellous 
dispensations,  those  whom  he  called  to  bear  a  part  in 
the  regeneration  of  society ;  and  that  was  an  ordina- 
tion that  abundantly  compensated  for  the  absence  of 
the  Church's  seal.  In  Farel's  ordination  we  see  the 
unchanging  word  of  God,  intrusted  to  a  man  of  God, 
to  bear  it  to  the  world  ;  the  calling  of  God,  and  of  the 
people,  and  of  the  consecration  of  the  heart.  And  per- 
haps no  minister  of  Rome  or  of  Geneva  was  ever  more 
lawfully  ordained  for  that  holy  ministry.  Farel -took 
his  departure  for  Montbeliard,  in  company  with  the 
knight  D'Esch. 

Thus  did  Farel  find  himself  occupying  an  advanced 
post.  Behind  him  were  Basle  and  Strasburg,  assist- 
ing him  by  their  advice  and  by  the  productions  of  their 
printing  presses.  Before  him  lay  the  provinces  of 
Franchecomte,  Burgundy,  Lorraine,  Lyons,  and  other 
districts  of  France  ;  wherein  men  of  God  were  begin- 
ning to  stand  up  against  error,  in  the  thick  darkness 
He  set  himself  immediately  to  preach  Christ— exhort- 
ing believers  not  to  suffer  themselves  to  be  turned  aside 
from  the  Holy  Scriptures,  either  by  threatenings  or  ar- 
tifice. Taking  the  part  long  afterward  taken  by  Cal- 
vin on  a  grander  scale,  Farel,  at  Montbeliard,  was  like 
a  general  stationed  on  a  height,  surveying,  with  search- 
ing vigilance,  the  field  of  battle,  cheering  those  who 
were  actively  engaged,  rallying  those  whom  the  enemy's 

'  Avec  1'invocation  du  non  de  Dieti.    (Ibid.) 
f  Leoninatn  ma^nanitnitatem  columbina  modestia  frangas. 
((Ecol.Epp.p.198.) 


charge  had  forced  to  give  way,  and  by  his  courage  ami- 
mating  those  who  hung  back.*  Erasmus  wrote  direct- 
ly to  his  Roman  Cotholic  friends,  informing  them  that 
a  Frenchman,  escaped  out  of  France,  was  making  a 
great  noise  in  these  regions.! 

The  efforts  of  Farel  were  not  without  effect.  People 
wrote  to  him  :  *'  On  all  sides  seem  to  multiply  men 
who  devote  their  lives  to  the  extension  of  Christ's 
kingdom."}  The  friends  of  the  Gospel  gave  thanks 
to  God  for  the  daily  increasing  brilliancy  in  which 
the  Gospel  shone  in  France. $  Gainsayers  were  con- 
founded, and  Erasmus,  writing  to  the  bishop  of  Roch- 
ester, observed  :  "  The  faction  is  every  day  spreading, 
and  has  penetrated  into  Savoy,  Lorraine,  and  France.'T|{ 

For  a  considerable  time  Lyons  seemed  the  centre 
of  the  Evangelic  movement  in  the  interior,  as  Basle 
was  of  that  beyond  the  frontiers.  Francis  the  First, 
called  to  the  south,  on  an  expedition  against  Charles 
V.,  arrived  in  those  countries,  attended  by  his  mother 
and  sister,  and  by  his  court.  Margaret  had  with  her, 
in  her  company,  certain  men  who  had  embraced  the 
Gospel.  "  The  rest  of  her  people  she  left  behind," 
remarks  a  letter  written  at  the  time. IT  While  under 
the  eyes  of  Francis,  14,000  Swiss,  6,000  Frenchmen, 
and  1,500  noble  knights,  were  defiling  through  Lyons, 
on  their  way  to  repel  the  Imperial  army  that  had  invad- 
ed Provence,  and  that  great  city  resounded  with'the 
clang  of  arms,  the  tramp  of  cavalry,  and  the  sound  of 
trumpets — the  friends  of  the  Gospel  were  on  their  way 
to  the  more  peaceful  triumphs.  They  were  intent  on 
attempting,  at  Lyons,  what  they  had  not  been  able  to 
realize  at  Paris.  Remote  from  the  Sorbonne  and  the 
Parliament,  a  freer  course  might  be  open  to  God's 
word.  Perhaps  the  second  city  of  the  kingdom  was 
destined  to  be  the  first  wherein  the  Gospel  should  be 
received.  Was  it  not  there  that  the  earcllent  Peter 
Waldo  had  begun  to  make  known  the  divine  Word  ? 
In  that  earlier  age  he  had  roused  the  national  mind. 
Now  that  God  had  made  all  things  ready  to  emanci- 
pate His  church,  was  there  not  ground  to  hope  for 
more  extensive  and  decisive  results  ?  Accordingly 
the  Lyonese,  who  in  general  were  not,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, "  poor  men,"  began  to  handle,  with  more  con- 
fidence, the  "  sword  of  the  Spirit  which  is  the  word 
of  God." 

Among  those  about  Margaret's  person,  was  her  al- 
moner, Michel  d'Arande.  The  Duchess  gave  direc- 
tion that  the  Gospel  should  be  publicly  preached  in 
Lyons,  and  master  Michel  boldly  proclaimed  the  pure 
word  of  God  to  a  numerous  auditory — attracted  partly 
by  the  good  tidings,  and  partly  by  the  favour  with  which 
the  preacher  and  his  preaching  were  regarded  by  the 
sister  of  their  king.** 

Anthony  Papillon,  a  man  of  cultivated  mind,  an  ac- 
complished Latimst,  a  friend  of  Erasmus,  the  earliest 
of  his  countrymen  thoroughly  instructed  in  the  Gospel, ft 
accompanied  the  Princess.  At  Margaret's  request  he 

*  The  comparison  is  in  the  words  of  a  friend  who  was  ac- 
quainted with  Farel,  during  his  abode  at  Montbeliard  :  Stren- 
uum  et  oculatum  imperatorum,  qui  iis  etiaitt  animum  facias 
qui  in  acie  versantur.  (Tossanus  Farello,  MS.  dc  Neufchatel, 
2d  Sept.  1524.) 

t  .  .  .  .  Tumultuatur  et  Burgundia  nobis  proxima,  per  Pha- 
lucum  quemdain  Callum  qui  e  Gallia  profugus.  (Er.  Epp.  p. 
809.) 

{  Suppullulare  qui  omnes  conatus  adferant,  quo  possit 
Christi  regnum  quam  latissime  patere.  (MS.  de  Nenfchatel, 
2d  Aug.  1524.) 

§  Quod  in  GalHis  omnibus  sacrossanctom  Dei  verbum  in 
dies  magis  ac  magis  elucescat.  (Ibid.) 

||  Factio  crescit  in  dies  latins,  propagata  in  Sabaudiam,  Lo- 
fhoringiam,  Franciam.  (Er.  Epp.  p.  809.) 

1T  De  Sebville  a  Coct  du  28th  Dec.  1524.  (MS.  du  Conclave 
de  Neufchatel ) 

**  Elle  a  une  doctenr  de  Paris,  appele  mnitre  Michel  Eley 
mosinarius.lequel  ne  preche  devant  elle  que  purement  1'Evan- 
gile.  (Sebville  a  Coct,  MS.  de  Neufchatel.)  ft  IW* 


SEBVILLE  PERSECUTED— EFFECTS  OF  THE  BATTLE  OF  PAVIA. 


bad  translated  Luther's  tract  on  the  monks'  vows,  "  on 
which  account  he  was  often  called  in  question  by  that 
vermin  of  the  city  of  Paris,"  remarks  Sebville.*  But 
Margaret  had  protected  the  scholar  from  the  enmity  of 
the  Sorbonne,  and  had  obtained  for  him  the  appoint- 
ment of  chief  master  of  requests  to  the  Dauphin,  with 
a  seat  in  the  council. f  He  was  almost  equally  useful 
to  the  Gospel  by  the  sacrifices  he  made  for  its  cause 
as  by  his  great  prudence.  Vaugris,  a  merchant,  and 
Anthony  Du  Blet,  a  gentleman,  and  a  friend  of  Farel, 
were  the  principal  persons  who  took  part  with  the  Re- 
formation at  Lyons.  The  latter,  whose  activity  was 
untiring,  served  as  a  sort  of  connecting  link  between 
the  Christians  scattered  throughout  those  countries, 
and  was  the  medium  of  their  intercourse  with  Basle. 
The  armed  bands  of  Francis  the  First  had  done  no 
more  than  traverse  Lyons,  while  the  spiritual  soldiery 
of  Jesus  Christ  had  paused  within  it,  and  leaving  the 
former  to  carry  war  into  Provence,  they  commenced 
the  "  fight  of  faith  "  in  the  city  of  Lyons  itself. 

But  their  efforts  were  not  confined  to  Lyons.  Cast- 
ing their  eyes  over  the  surrounding  country,  their  oper- 
ations were  carried  on,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  at 
different  points  ;  and  the  Christians  of  Lyons  support- 
ed and  encouraged  the  confessors  of  Christ  in  the  ad- 
jacent provinces,  and  bore  His  name  where  as  yet  it 
was  not  known.  The  new  teaching  re-ascended  the 
banks  of  the  Saone,  and  the  voice  of  one  bringing  the 
glad  tidings  was  heard  in  the  narrow  and  irregular 
streets  of  Macon.  Michel  d'Arande,  the  almoner  of 
the  king's  sister,  himself  visited  that  place  in  1524, 
and,  by  Margaret's  intercession,  obtained  license  to 
preach  in  a  townt  which  was  afterward  deluged  with 
blood,  and  became  forever  memorable  for  its  sauteries. 

After  extending  their  travels  in  the  direction  of  the 
Saone.  the  Christians  of  Lyons,  evrr  looking  for  an 
open  door,  re-asceneded  the  acclivities  of  the  Alps. 
There  was  at  Lyons  a  Dominican,  named  Maigret, 
who  had  been  expelled  from  Dauphiny,  where  he  had 
preached  the  new  doctrine  with  singular  boldness,  and 
who  earnestly  requested  that  some  one  would  go  over 
and  help  his  brethren  of  Grenoble,  and  Gap  Papillon 
and  Du  Blet  repaired  thither.$  A  violent  storm  had 
just  broken  out  there  against  Sebville  and  his  preach- 
ing. The  Dominicans  moved  heaven  and  earth,  and, 
in  their  rage  at  the  escape  of  Farel,  Anemond,  Maigret, 
and  the  other  preachers,  sought  to  crush  such  as  were 
within  their  clutches.JI  They  therefore  insisted  that 
Sebvilte  should  be  arrested. IT 

The  friends  of  the  Gospel  at  Grenoble  caught  the 
alarm.  Was  Sebville  also  on  the  eve  of  being  lost  to 
them  T  Margaret  interceded  with  her  brother.  Some 
persons  of  distinction  at  Grenoble,  including  the  king's 
advocate,  either  secretly  or  avowedly  favourable  to  the 
Gospel,  exerted  themselves  in  his  behalf;  and  he  was 
happily  rescued  from  the  fury  of  his  enemies.** 

His  life  indeed  was  saved  but  his  mouth  was  stop- 
ped. "  Remain  silent,"  said  his  friends,  "  or  you  will 
be  brought  to  the  scaffold."  "  Only  think  what  it  is," 
wrote  he  to  De  Coct,  "  to  have  silence  imposed  upon 
me,  under  pain  of  death."ft  Some,  whose  firmness  had 

*  Ibid.  t  Ibid. 

j  Arandius  preche  a  Mascon.  (Coct  a  Farel.  Dec.  1524.  MS. 
de  Neufchatel.) 

^  11  y  a  deux  grands  personages  a  Grenoble.  (Coct  a  Farel, 
Dec.  1524,  MS.  de  NeufchateL)  The  title  of  Messire  is  given 
to  Du  Bl«t,  indicating  a  person  of  rank.  I  incline  to  think 
that  that  of  negotiator,  elsewhere  given  him,  refers  to  his  ac- 
tivity :  yet  he  might  be  a  merchant  of  Lyons. 

|j  Conjicere  potes  ut  post  Maeretnm  et  me  in  Sebivillam  ex- 
arseri  ;t.  (\nemond  a  Farel,  7th  Sept.  1524,  MS.  Neufchatel.) 

H"  Les  Thomistes  ont  voulon  proceder  centre  moi  par  inqui- 
sition et  caption  de  personne.  (Lettre  de  Sebville.  Ibid.) 

»*  Si  ce  ne  fut  certains  amis  seceret,  je  estois  mis  entro  les 
mains  rtes  Pharisiens.  (Lettre  de  Sebville,  MS.  de  Neufchatel.1) 


been  most  relied  on,  were  overawed  by  these  threat- 
enings.  The  king's  advocate,  and  others  exhibited 
marked  coldness,*  and  many  returned  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  communion,  alleging  that  they  would  still  offer 
to  God  a  spiritual  worship  in  the  privacy  of  their  hearts, 
and  give  to  the  outward  observances  of  Catholicism 
a  spiritual  interpretation — a  melancholy  snare,  and  one 
that  leads  men  from  one  act  of  unfaithfulness  to  ano- 
ther. There  is  no  false  system,  adhesion  to  which, 
may  not  in  this  way  be  justified.  The  unbeliever, 
taking  up  with  fancied  myths  and  allegories,  will  preach 
Christ  from  the  pulpit :  and  the  follower  of  a  supersti- 
tion held  in  abhorrence  among  the  heathen,  will,  by  a 
moderate  exercise  of  ingenuity,  trace  in  it  the  symbol 
of  a  pure  and  elevated  thought.  In  religion  the  very 
first  essential  is  truth.  There  were,  however,  sorn« 
of  the  Christians  of  Grenoble,  and  among  them  Ame- 
dee  Galbert  and  a  cousin  of  Anemond  who  held  fast 
to  their  faith. |  These  men  of  piety  were  accustomed 
secretly  to  meet  together  with  Sebville  at  each  other's 
houses,  and  thus  "  spake  often  one  to  another."  Their 
place  of  meeting  was  chosen  for  the  sake  of  its  retire- 
ment ;  they  met  at  night  in  the  apartment  of  a  brother, 
with  closed  doors  to  pray  to  Christ — as  if  they  had 
been  robbers  meeting  for  some  guilty  purpose  !  Ru- 
mour would  often  follow  them  to  their  humble  meeting 
with  some  groundless  alarm.  Their  enemies  winked 
at  such  secret  conventicles,  but  they  had  inwardly 
doomed  to  the  stake  any  one  who  should  venture  to 
open  his  lips  in  public  to  speak  the  word  of  God.J 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  Du  Blet  and  Papillon 
arrived  in  Grenoble.  Finding  that  Sebville  had  been 
silenced,  they  exhorted  him  to  go  to  Lyons,  and  there 
preach  Christ.  The  following  Lent  promised  to  afford 
him  the  favourable  opportunity  of  a  vast  crowd  of 
hearers.  Michel  d'Arande,  Maigret,  and  Sebville 
agreed  together  to  put  themselves  in  front  of  the  bat- 
tle, and  thus  all  was  arranged  for  an  impressive  testi- 
timony  to  the  truth  in  the  second  city  of  the  kingdom. 
The  rumour  of  the  approaching  Lent  spread  into  Swit- 
zerland :  "  Sebville  is  at  large,  end  is  purposing  to 
preach  at  Lyons,  in  the  church  of  St.  Paul,"  wrote 
Anemond  to  Farel. §  But  disasters,  bringing  with  them 
confusion  throughout  France,  intervened,  and  prevent- 
ed the  spiritual  contest.  It  is  in  periods  of  tranquility 
that  the  Gospel  achieves  its  blessed  conquests.  The 
battle  of  Pavia,  which  took  place  in  the  month  of 
February,  disconcerted  the  bold  project  of  the  Refor- 
mers. 

Meanwhile,  without  waiting  for  Sebville,  Maigret, 
amid  much  opposition  from  the  clergy  and  the  monks,!! 
had  from  the  beginning  of  the  winter  been  preaching 
at  Lyons,  Salvation  by  Christ  alone.  In  his  sermons, 
he  passed  over  the  worship  of  the  creature,  the  saints, 
the  Virgin,  and  the  power  of  the  priesthood.  The 
great  mystery  of  Godliness — "  God  manifest  in  the 
flesh" — was  the  one  great  doctrine  exalted  by  him. 
"  The  early  heresies  of  the  poor  men  of  Lyons  were 
again  showing  themselves  under  a  more  dangerous 
form  than  ever,"  it  was  remarked.  In  spite  of  oppo- 
sers,  Maigret  continued  his  preaching:  the  faith  that 
animated  him  found  utterance  in  emphatic  words ;  it 
is  in  the  very  nature  of  truth  to  embolden  the  heart  that 
receives  it.  Nevertheless  it  was  decreed  that  at  Ly- 
ons, as  at  Grenoble,  Rome  should  get  the  upper  hand. 
Under  the  very  eyes  of  Margaret,  the  preacher  was 

*  Non  solum  tepedi  sed  frigidi.    (MS.  de  Neufthatel.) 
\  Tuo  cognato,  Amedeo  Galberto  exceptis.     (MS.  de  Neuf- 
chatel., 

t  Mais  de  en  parler  publiquement,  il  n'y  pend  que  le  feu. 
(MS.  dc  Neufchatel ) 

^  Le  samodi  des  Quatre-Temps.     (Dec.  1524,  ibid  ) 
•j  Pour  vray  Maigret  a  preche  a  Lion,  maulgre  les  pretres  et 
moines.     (Ibid.) 


350 


THE  EVANGELICAL  ASSOCIATION— CHRISTIAN  PATRIOTISM, 


arrested,  dragged  through  the  streets,  and  committed 
to  prison.  Vaugris,  a  merchant,  who  was  just  then 
leaving  the  town  on  his  way  to  Switzerland,  carried 
with  him  the  news  of  what  had  happened.  One 
thought  cheered  the  melancholy  these  tidings  diffused 
among  the  friends  of  the  Reformation  ;  "  Maigret  is 
seized,"  said  they,  "  but  thanks  be  to  God,  Madame 
d'Alencon  is  on  the  spot."* 

Their  hopes  soon  left  them.  The  Sorbonne  had 
formally  condemmed  certain  propositions  maintained 
by  the  faithful  preacher  ;t  Margaret,  whose  position 
was  every  day  becoming  more  embarrassing,  beheld 
the  daring  of  the  Reformers,  and  the  hatred  of  those 
in  power  both  rising  at  the  same  moment.  Francis 
the  First  was  beginning  to  lose  patience  at  the  rest- 
less zeal  of  the  preachers,  and  to  regard  them  as  fana- 
tics whom  it  was  good  policy  to  reduce  to  submission. 
Margaret,  therefore,  fluctuating  between  her  desires 
to  serve  her  brethern  in  Christ,  and  the  failure  of  her 
ability  to  preserve  them,  sent  them  word  that  they 
were  to  abstain  from  rushing  into  new  difficulties,  see- 
ing that  she  could  not  again  make  application  to  the 
king  in  their  behalf.  The  friends  of  the  Gospel  be- 
lieved that  this  resolution  could  not  be  irrevocable : 
"  God  give  her  grace,"  said  they,  "  to  say  and  write 
only  what  is  needful  to  poor  souls. "£  But  even  if 
they  should  lose  this  help  of  man,  Christ  was  with 
them — and  it  seemed  well  that  the  soul  should  be 
stripped  of  other  dependence,  that  it  might  lean  upon 
God  alone. 

The  friends  of  the  Gospel  had  lost  their  power,  and 
the  powerful  were  declaring  against  it.  Margaret  was 
alarmed.  Soon — heavy  news,  received  from  beyond 
the  Alps,  was  to  plunge  the  whole  kingdom  into  mourn- 
ing— absorbing  attention  in  the  one  object  of  saving 
France  and  her  king.  But  if  the  Christians  of  Lyons 
were  motionless,  did  not  Basle  contain  within  its  walls 
soldiers  escaped  from  the  battle,  and  ready  to  renew 
it  1  The  exiles  from  France  have  never  forgotten  her : 
banished  for  three  centuries  by  Roman  fanaticism,  we 
see  their  last  descendants  carrying  to  the  towns  and 
plains  of  their  father-land,  the  treasure  of  which  the 
Pope  deprives  them.  At  the  crisis,  when  the  good 
soldiers  of  Christ,  in  France,  dejectedly  threw  away 
their  arms,  we  see  the  refugees  al  Basle,  preparing  for 
renewed  efforts.  With  the  example  before  their  eyes 
of  the  sceptre  of  St.  Louis  and  of  Charlemagne  falling 
from  the  grasp  of  a  Francis  the  First,  should  they  not 
be  incited  to  lay  hold  on  a  "  kingdom  which  cannot  be 
moved  ?"§ 

Farel,  Anemond,  Esch,  Toussaint,  and  their  friends 
in  Switzerland,  composed  an  Evangelical  Association, 
having  for  its  object  the  deliverance  of  their  country 
from  spiritual  darkness.  Intelligence  reached  them 
from  all  sides,  that  there  was  an  increasing  thirst  after 
God's  word  in  France  ;il  it  was  desirable  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  it,  and  to  water  and  sow  the  seed  while  yet 
it  was  seed  time.  QEcolampadius,  Oswald  Myconius, 
and  Zwingle,  continually  encouraged  them  to  this. 
The  Swiss  teacher,  Myconius,  wrote  thus  in  January, 
1525,  to  De  Coct :  "  Exiled  as  you  are  from  your 
country  by  the  tyranny  of  Antichrist,  your  presence 
among  us  is  the  proof  that  you  have  courageously  stood 
forth  in  the  cause  of  Truth.  The  oppressions  of  Chris- 
tian bishops  will  lead  the  people  to  regard  them  as  no 
better  than  deceivers.  Stand  fast :  the  time  is  not  dis- 
tant when  we  shall  arrive  in  the  wished-for  haven, 

*MS.dc  Neufchatel. 

f  Histoire  de  Francois  I.,  par  Oaillard,  torn.  iv.  p.  233. 

t  Pierre  Touissaut  a  Farel,  Basle  17  Deo.  1634.  (MS.  de 
Neufchatel.) 

<)  Heb.  xii.  29. 

U  Oallis  verborum  Dei  sitientibus.  (Coctus  Farello,  2  Sep. 
1624.  MS.  de  Neufchatel.) 


whether  we  be  struck  down  by  the  oppressors,  or  they 
themselves  be  cast  down,*  and  all  will  then  be  well 
with  us,  if  we  do  but  continue  faithful  to  Jesos 
Christ." 

These  cheering  words  were  precious  indeed  to  the 
French  refugees  ;  but  just  then,  a  blow  struck  by  those 
very  Christians  of  Switzerland,  and  of  Germany,  who 
sought  to  cheer  them,  carried  grief  to  their  hearts.  In 
the  feeling  of  their  recent  escape  from  the  fires  of  per- 
secution, they,  at  this  time,  beheld  with  dismay,  the 
Evangelical  Christians  beyond  the  Rhine  disturbing 
their  repose  by  their  deplorable  differences.  The  con- 
troversy, in  relation  to  the  Lord's  Supper,  had  begun. 
Deeply  affected,  and  feeling  the  need  of  mutual  love, 
the  French  Reformers  would  have  made  any  sacrifice 
to  conciliate  the  divergent  parties.  It  became  the 
great  object  of  their  desire.  None  more  than  they,  felt 
from  the  outset  the  need  of  Christian  unity.  At  a  later 
period,  Calvin  afforded  proof  of  this.  "  Would  to 
God."  said  Peter  Toussaint,  "  that,  by  my  worthless 
blood,  I  could  purchase  peace,  concord,  and  union  in 
Christ  Jesus. "f  The  French,  gifted  with  quick  dis- 
cernment, saw,  from  the  very  beginning,  how  the  rising 
dissensions  would  stand  in  the  way  of  the  Reformation. 
'  All  would  go  favourably  beyond  our  hopes,  if  we 
were  but  agreed  among  ourselves.  Many  there  are 
who  would  gladly  come  to  the  light,  but  they  are  pre- 
vented by  seeing  such  divisions  among  the  learned. "{ 

The  French  were  the  first  to  suggest  conciliatory 
advances  :  "  Why,"  wrote  they  from  Strasburg,  "  why 
not  send  Bucer  or  some  other  man  of  learning  to  con- 
fer with  Luther  1  The  more  we  delay  the  wider  wili 
our  differences  become."  These  fears  seemed  every 
day  more  founded. $ 

Failing  in  their  endeavours,  these  Christians  turned 
their  eyes  toward  France,  and  the  conversion  of  theiv 
own  country  to  the  faith,  thenceforth  exclusively  en- 
gaged the  hearts  of  these  generous  men,  whom  history 
— so  loud  in  praise  of  men  who  have  sought  only  their 
own  glory — has,  for  three  centuries,  scarcely  mentioned. 
Cast  upon  a  foreign  soil,  they  threw  themselves  on  their 
knees,  and,  daily  in  their  solitude,  called  down  blessings 
from  God  upon  their  father-land.il  Prayer  was  the 
great  instrument  by  which  the  Gospel  spread  through 
the  kingdom,  and  the  great  engine  by  which  the  con- 
quests of  the  Reformation  were  achieved. 

But  there  were  other  men  of  prayer  beside  these. 
Never,  perhaps,  have  the  ranks  of  the  Gospel  com- 
prised combatants  more  prompt  to  suffer  in  the  hour 
of  conflict.  They  felt  the  importance  of  scattering  the 
Scriptures  and  pious  writings  in  their  country,  which 
was  still  overclouded  with  the  thick  darkness  of  super- 
stition. A  spirit  of  inquiry  was  dawning  in  their  na- 
tion, and  it  seemed  necessary  on  all  sides  to  unfurl  the 
sails  to  the  wind.  Anemond,  ever  prompt  in  action, 
and  Michel  Bentin,  another  refugee,  resolved  to  em- 
ploy, in  concert,  their  zeal  and  talents.  Bentin  decided 
to  establish  a  printing  press  at  Basle,  and  the  knight  to 
turn  to  account  the  little  he  knew  of  German,  by  trans- 
lating into  that  language,  the  more  striking  tracts  writ- 
ten by  the  Reformers.  "  Oh  !"  exclaimed  they,  re- 
joicing in  their  project ;  "  would  to  God  that  France 
were  so  supplied  with  Gospel  writings  that  in  cottages, 
and  in  palaces,  in  cloisters,  and  in  presbyteries,  and  in 

*  Non  longe  abest  enim,  quo  in  portum  tranquilluro  perven- 
limus  .  . .  (Oswald  Mycoiiius  a  Anemond  de  Coct.  MS.  da 
Neufchatel.) 

f  21st  December,  1525.     (MS,  du  Conclave  de  Neufchatel.) 

\  Ibid. 

^  Multis  jam  Christianis  Gallis  dolet,  quod  a  Zwingln  al 
rumque  de  Eucharistia  senteutia,  dissentiat  Lutherus.    (Toa. 
sanus  Farello,  14th  July,  1525.) 

||  Quam  sollicite  quotidianis  precibus  commendem.  (To* 
sanus  Farello,  2d  Sept.  1524,  MS.  de  Neufchatel.} 


INFLUENCE  OF  TRACTS— BIBLE  AND  TRACT  SOCIETIES. 


351 


the  inner  sanctuary  of  all  hearts,  a  powerful  witness 
might  be  borne  for  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."* 

For  such  an  undertaking  funds  were  necessary — and 
the  refugees  were  destitute  of  funds.  Vaugris  was 
then  at  Basle.  Anemond,  on  parting  with  him,  gave 
him  a  letter  to  the  brethren  of  Lyons,  some  of  whom 
had  considerable  possessions  in  lands,  and,  notwith- 
standing they  were  oppressed,  remained  faithful  to  the 
Gospel.  In  his  letter,  he  asked  theirassistance  ;t  but 
that  could  not  at  all  meet  the  extent  of  the  need.  The 
Frenchmen  resolved  to  establish  several  presses  at 
Basle,  that  should  be  worked  day  and  night,  so  as  to 
inundate  all  France  with  God's  word.t  At  Meaux, 
Metz,  and  other  places,  there  were  those  rich  enough 
to  contribute  to  this  work ;  and  as  no  one  could  ap- 
peal to  Frenchmen  with  more  authority  than  Farel,  it 
•was  to  him  that  Anemond  made  application. § 

We  do  not  find  that  the  scheme  of  Anemond  was 
realised  ;  but  the  work  was  carried  out  by  others.  The 
presses  of  Basle  were  incessantly  employed  in  printing 
French  works,  which  were  forwarded  to  Farel,  and  by 
him  introduced  into  France.  One  of  the  earliest  of 
the  issues  of  this  Religious  Tract  Society  was  Luther's 
Exposition  of  the  Lord's  Prayer.  "  We  sell  the  Pa- 
ter at  four  deniers  de  Bale  to  private  persons,"  wrote 
Vaugris — "  but  to  the  wholesale  dealer,  we  supply  co- 
pies at  the  rate  of  200  for  two  florins,  which  is  some- 
thing less."f| 

Anemond  was  accustomed  to  transmit  from  Bale  to 
Farel  any  profitable  books  published  or  received  in 
that  city — at  one  time  a  tract  on  ordination,  at  another, 
an  essay  on  the  education  of  children. T  Farel  looked 
through  them,  composing,  translating,  and  seeming,  at 
one  and  the  same  time,  all  activity,  and  yet  all  medi- 
tation. Anemond  urged  on,  and  superintended  the 
printing,  and  these  letters,  requests,  and  books,  all 
these  little  single  sheets,  were  among  the  instruments 
of  regeneration  to  that  age.  While  dissoluteness  and 
profligacy  descended  from  the  throne  to  the  lower  or- 
ders, and  darkness  spread  from  the  very  steps  of  the 
altar,  these  writings,  so  inconsiderable  and  unnoticed, 
alone  diffused  the  beams  of  light,  and  the  seeds  of 
holiness. 

But  it  was  especially  God's  word  that  the  evangelic 
merchant  of  Lyons  required  for  his  fellow-countrymen. 
That  generation  of  the  sixteenth  century,  so  eager  for 
all  that  could  satisfy  the  re-awakened  intellect,  was  to 
receive  in  its  vernacular  tongue  those  early  records  of 
the  first  ages,  redolent  with  the  young  breath  of  human 
nature,  and  those  holy  oracles  of  apostolic  times,  bright 
with  the  fullness  of  the  revelation  of  Christ.  Vaugris 
wrote  to  Farel — "  Pray,  see  if  it  be  not  possible  to 
have  the  New  Testament  translated  by  some  compe- 
tent hand  ;  it  would  be  a  great  blessing  to  France, 
Burgundy,  and  Savoy.  And  if  you  should  not  be  al- 
ready provided  with  the  proper  types,  I  would  order 
some  from  Paris  or  Lyons — but  if  we  have  the  types 
at  Basle,  it  would  be  all  the  better." 

Lefevere  had  previously  published  at  Meaux,  but  by 
detached  portions,  the  books  of  the  New  Testament, 
in  the  French  language.  Vaugris  wished  some  one  to 
undertake  a  revision  of  the  whole  for  a  new  edition. 
Lefevere  undertook  to  do  so,  and,  as  we  have  already 

*  Opto  enim  Galliam  Evangelicis  voluminibus  abundare. 
<Coctus  Farello,  MS.  de  Neufchatel.) 

t  Ut  pecunise  aliquid  ad  me  mittant  (Coct.  Far.  MS.  de 
Neufchatel.) 

t  Ut  praela  rnulta  erigere  possimus.     (Ibid.) 

^  An  censes  inveniri  posse  Lugduni,  Melds,  aut  alibi  in 
Gall'is  qui  nos  ad  haec  jnvare  velint.  (Ibid ) 

||  Vaugris  a  Farel ;  (Bale,  29th  Auff.  1524.  MS.  de  Neuf- 
chatel.) 

IT  Mitto  tibi  libnim  de  instituo.ndis  ministris  Ecclesiae  cum 
Kbro  de  instituendis  paeris,  (Coctus  Farello,  2d  Sept.  1624, 
Ibid.) 


related,  published  the  entire  volume  on  the  12th  Octo- 
ber, 1524.  Conrad,  an  uncle  of  Vaugris,  who  had 
also  sought  an  asylum  in  Basle,  sent  for  a  copy.  De 
Coct,  happening  to  be  in  company  with  a  friend  on 
the  18th  November,  first  saw  the  book,  and  was  over- 
joyed. "  Lose  no  time  in  going  to  press  again,"  said 
he,  "  for  I  doubt  not  a  vast  number  of  copies  will  be 
called  for."* 

Thus  was  the  word  of  God  offered  to  France  side 
by  side  with  those  traditions  of  the  Church  which 
Rome  is  still  continually  presenting  to  her.  "  How- 
can  we  discern,"  asked  the  Reformers,  "  between 
what  is  of  a  man  in  your  traditions,  and  that  which  is 
of  God,  save  only  by  the  Scriptures  of  truth  1  The 
maxims  of  the  Fathers,  the  decretals  of  the  Church, 
cannot  be  the  rule  of  faith  :  they  show  us  what  was 
the  judgment  of  those  earlier  divines ;  but  only  from  the 
word  can  we  gather  the  thoughts  of  God.  Everything 
must  be  tested  by  Scripture." 

In  this  manner,  for  the  most  part,  these  printed  works 
were  circulated.  Farel  and  his  friends  transmitted  the 
sacred  books  to  certain  dealers  or  colporteurs — poor 
men  of  good  character  for  piety,  who,  bearing  their 
precious  burden,  went  through  towns  and  villages — 
from  house  to  house — in  Franchecomt6,  Burgundy, 
and  the  neighbouring  districts,  knocking  at  every  door. 
The  books  were  sold  to  them  at  a  low  price,  that  the 
interest  they  had  in  the  sale  might  make  them  the  more 
industrious  in  disposing  of  them.f  Thus  as  early  as 
1524  there  existed  in  Basle,  and  having  France  for  the 
field  of  their  operations,  a  Bible  society — an  associa- 
tion of  colporteurs — and  a  religious  tract  society.  It 
is,  then,  a  mistake  to  conceive  that  such  efforts  date 
only  from  our  own  age ;  they  go  back,  at  least  in  the 
identity  of  the  objects  they  propose,  not  merely  to  the 
days  of  the  Reformation,  but  still  farther,  to  the  first 
ages  of  the  Church. 

The  attention  which  Farel  bestowed  on  France  did 
not  cause  him  to  neglect  the  places  where  he  resided. 
Arriving  at  Montbeliard,  toward  the  end  of  July,  1524, 
he  had  no  sooner  sown  the  seed,  than,  to  use  the 
language  of  CEcolampadius,  the  first-fruits  of  the  har- 
vest began  to  appear.  Farel,  exulting,  communicated 
his  success  to  his  friends.  "  It  is  easy,"  replied  the 
doctor  of  Basle,  "  to  instil  a  few  dogmas  into  the  ears 
of  our  auditors  ;  but  God  alone  can  change  their 
hearts."! 

De  Coct,  overjoyed  with  this  intelligence,  hurried 
to  Peter  Toussaint's  house.  "  To-morrow,"  said  he, 
with  his. usual  vivacity,  "I  set  off  to  visit  Farel.'* 
Toussaint,  more  calm,  was  then  writing  to  the  evan- 
gelist of  Montbeliard  :  "  Have  a  care,"  wrote  he  ; 
"  the  cause  you  have  taken  in  hand  is  of  solemn  im- 
portance, and  should  not  be  contaminated  by  the  coun- 
sels of  men.  The  great  ones  may  promise  you  their 
favour,  assistance,  aye,  and  heaps  of  gold — but  to  put 
confidence  in  these  things  is  to  forsake  Jesus  Christ, 
and  to  walk  in  in  darkness. "§  Toussaint  was  in  the 
act  of  closing  his  letter  when  De  Coct  entered  ;  and 
the  latter,  taking  charge  of  it,  set  off  for  Montbeliard. 

He  found  all  the  city  in  commotion.  Several  of  the 
nobles,  in  alarm,  and  casting  a  look  of  contempt  on 
Farel,  exclaimed,  "  What  can  this  poor  wretch  want 
with  us  1  Would  that  he  had  never  come  among  us. 
He  must  not  remain  here,  or  he  will  bring  ruin  upon 
us  as  well  as  upon  himself."  These  nobles,  who  had 
retired  to  Montbeliard  in  company  with  the  duke  for 
shelter,  feared  least  the  stir  which  everywhere  accom- 

»  MS.  oi  the  Conclave  of  Neufchatel. 

I  Vaugris  a  Farel.    (MS.  of  Neufchatel.) 

\  Animum  autem  immutare,  divinum  opus  est.  (CEcol. 
Epp.  p.  200 ) 

^  . .  .  A  quibus  si  pendemus,  jam  a  Christo  defecimus.  (MS. 
d«  Neufchatel.) 


352 


FAREL  AT  MONTBELIARD— OIL  AND  WINE— TOUSSAINT'S  TRIALS. 


panied  the  spread  of  the  Reformation,  should,  by  draw- 
ing upon  them  the  notice  of  Charles  V.  and  Ferdinand, 
lead  to  their  being  driven  from  their  only  remaining 
asylum.  But  the  ecclesiastics  were  Farel's  bitterest 
opponets.  The  superior  of  the  Franciscans  at  Besan- 
c.on  hastened  to  Montbeliard,  and  concocted  defensive 
measures  with  the  clergy  of  that  place.  The  follow- 
ing Sunday,  Farel  had  scarcely  began  to  preach  when 
he  was  interrupted,  and  called  a  liar  and  a  heretic.  Im- 
mediately the  whole  assembly  was  in  an  uproar.  The 
audience  rose,  and  called  for  silence.  The  duke  has- 
tened to  the  spot,  put  both  the  superior  and  Farel  un- 
der arrest,  and  insisted  that  the  former  should  prove 
his  charges,  or  else  retract  them.  The  superior  chose 
the  latter  course,  and  an  official  report  was  published 
of  the  transaction.* 

This  attack  only  rendered  Farel  more  zealous  than 
before  :  thenceforward  he  believed  it  his  duty,  fearless- 
ly, to  unmask  these  interested  priests  ;  and,  drawing 
the  sword  of  the  Word,  he  applied  it  unsparingly.  He 
was  now  more  than  ever  led  to  imitate  Jesus,  ralher 
in  his  character  as  the  purifier  of  the  temple,  driving 
out  thence  the  traffickers  and  money-changers,  and 
overthrowing  their  tables,  than  as  the  one  whom  pro- 
phecy declared:  "  He  shall  not  strive  nor  cry,  •neither 
shall  his  voice  be  heard  in  the  streets"  CEcolampa- 
dius was  affrighted.  These  two  men  were  the  perfect 
types  of  two  characters  diametrically  opposite,  and  yet 
both  worthy  of  our  admiration — "Your  mission,'' 
wrote  CEcolampadius  to  Farel,  "  is  gently  to  draw  men 
to  the  truth,  not  to  drag  them  with  violonce  ;  to  preach 
the  Gospel,  not  to  pronounce  maledictions.  Physicians 
resort  to  amputation,  only  when  external  applications 
have  failed.  Act  the  part  of  the  physician,  not  of  the 
executioner.  In  my  judgment  it  is  not  enough  that 
you  are  gentle  toward  the  friends  of  the  Truth.  You 
must  likewise  win  over  the  adversaries.  Or  if  the 
•wolves  are  to  be  driven  from  the  fold,  at  least  let  the 
sheep  hear  the  voice  of  the  shepherd.  Pour  oil  and 
wine  into  the  wounded  heart — and  be  the  herald  of 
glad  tidings,  not  a  judge  or  a  tyrant.*1!  The  report 
of  these  things  spread  both  in  France  and  Lorraine, 
and  this  gathering  together  of  refugees  in  Basle  and 
Montbeliard  began  to  alarm  the  Sorbonne  and  the 
Cardinal.  Gladly  would  they  have  broken  up  so  omi- 
nous an  alliance  ;  for  error  knows  no  greater  triumph 
than  the  enlisting  a  renegade  in  its  ranks.  Already 
had  Martial  Mazurier,  and  others,  given  the  papal  party 
in  France,  an  opportunity  of  rejoicing  over  shameful 
desertions  ;  but  if  they  could  only  succeed  in  seducing 
one  of  those  confessors  of  Christ  who  had  fled  for 
safety  to  the  banks  of  the  Rhine — one  who  had  suffered 
much  for  the  name  of  the  Lord — that  were  indeed  a 
victory  for  the  hierarchy.  Measures  were  concerted 
and  directed  in  the  first  instance  against  the  young- 
est. 

The  Dean,  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  and  all  the 
circle  which  assembled  at  the  prelate's  house,  deplored 
the  sad  fate  of  Peter  Toussaint,  once  the  object  of  so 
many  hopes.  He  is  at  Basle,  said  they,  living  in  the 
very  house  of  CEcolampadius,  in  close  intercourse 
with  that  leader  in  this  heresy.  They  wrote  to  him 
movingly,  as  though  his  salvation  was  at  stake.  These 
letters  were  the  more  distressing  to  the  poor  young 
man,  because  they  bore  evident  marks  of  sincere  affec- 
tion, t  One  of  his  relations,  probably  the  Dean  him- 
self, urged  him  to  remove  to  Paris,  Metz,  or  whatever 

*  Der  Cbristliche  Handel  zu  Miimpelgard,  verloffen  roit 
griindlichen  Wahrheit. 

f  Qnod  Evangelistam,  non  tyrannicum  legislatorum  prjestes. 
((Ecol.  Epp.  p.  206.) 

}  Me  in  dies  divexari  legendis  amicorum  litteris  qui  me  .  . . 
ab  institute  remorari  nitnntur.  (Tossanus  Farello,  2d  Sep 
1624.  Manuscript  de  Neufchatel.) 


place  he  pleased,  provided  it  were  but  a  distance  froro 
the  Lutherans.  This  relation  bearing  in  mind  how 
much  Toussaint  was  indebted  to  him,  doubted  not  his 
immediate  compliance  with  the  injunction ;  when, 
therefore,  he  found  his  efforts  unavailing,  his  affection 
was  succeeded  by  violent  hatred.  This  resistance, 
on  the  part  of  the  young  refugee  exasperated  against 
him  ail  his  family  and  friends.  Recourse  was  had  to  hi* 
mother,  who  wa^s  entirely  under  the  influence  of  the 
monks  :*  the  priests  came  about  her  frightening  her, 
and  presuading  her  that  her  son  had  been  guilty  of 
crimes  which  could  not  be  named  without  shuddering. 
On  this  the  distressed  parent  wrote  to  her  son  an  af- 
fecting letter,  "  full  of  tears,"  as  he  says,  in  which  she 
described  her  misery  in  heart-rending  terms.  "  Oh  ! 
wretched  mother,"  said  she,  "  Oh  !  unnatural  son  ! — 
Cursed  be  the  breasts  that  suckled  thee,  cursed  be  the 
knees  that  bare  thee."f 

Poor  Toussaint  was  overwhelmed  with  consterna- 
tion. What  was  be  to  do  ?  Return  to  France  he 
could  not.  To  leave  Basle  and  proceed  to  Zurich  or 
Wittemberg,  beyond  the  reach  of  his  kindred,  would 
only  have  added  to  their  distress.  CEcolampadius- 
suggested  a  middle  course.  "  Leave  my  house,"  said1 
he.  $  With  a  sorrowful  heart  Toussaint  complied,  and 
went  to  lodge  with  a  priest,  both  ignorant  and  obscure, 
and  so$  well  fitted  to  quiet  the  fears  of  his  relations. 
What  a  change  for  him  !  He  had  no  intercourse  with 
his  host  except  at  meals.  At  such  times  they  were 
continually  differing  on  matters  of  faith,  but,  no  sooner 
was  his  meal  ended,  than  Toussaint  hastened  to  shut 
himself  in  his  chamber ;  where,  undisturbed  by  noise 
and  cotitroversy,  he  carefully  studied  the  word  of  God1. 
"  The  Lord  is  my  witness,"  said  he,  "  that  in  this 
valley  of  tears,  I  have  but  one  desire,  and  that  is,  to 
see  Christ's  kingdom  extend  itself,  that  all  with  one 
mouth  may  glorify  God. "I 

One  incident  took  place  and  cheered  Toussaint. 
The  enemies  of  the  Gospel  at  Metz  were  becoming 
more  and  more  powerful.  At  his  entreaty  the  cheva- 
lier d'Esch,  undertook  a  journey  in  July,  1525,  to 
strengthen  the  evangelical  Christians  of  that  city.  He 
traversed  the  forests  of  Vosges,  and  reached  the  place 
where  Leclerc  had  laid  down  his  >ife,  bringing  with 
him  several  books  with  which  Farel  had  supplied 
him. If 

But  the  French  exiles  did  not  confine  their  attention 
to  Lorraine.  De  Coct  received  letters  from  one  of 
Farel's  brothers,  depicting,  in  gloomy  colours,  the  con- 
dition of  Dauphiny.  He  carefully  avoided  allowing  them, 
lest  he  should  alarm  the  faint  hearted,  but  bore  thera 
on  his  heart  before  God  in  fervent  prayer,  for  His  all- 
powerful  aid.**  In  December,  1524,  one  Peter  Ver- 
rier,  a  messenger  from  Dauphiny,  intrusted  with  com- 
missions for  Farel  and  Anemond,  arrived  on  horseback 
at  Montbeliard.  The  knight,  with  his  usual  impetu- 
osity, immediately  resolved  on  returning  into  France. 
"  If  the  said  Peter  has  brought  money,"  wrote  he  to 
Farel,  "  do  you  take  it:  if  he  has  brought  letters  open 
them,  take  copies,  and  send  them  to  me.  Do  not, 
however,  sell  the  horse,  but  keep  it,  since  I  r»ay  per- 

*  Jam  capulo  proxima.    (MS.  de  Neufchatel.) 

•f  Litteras  ad  me  dedit  plenas  lacrymis  quibus  maledfcit  et 
uberibus  quae  me  lactarunt,  &c.  (Ibid ', 

\  Visum  est  (Ecolampadio  consultum  . . .  ut  a  se  secederem. 
(Tbid  ) 

?>  Utor  domo  cujusdam  sacrificuli.     (Ibid.) 

!|  Ut  Christi  regnum  quam  latissime  pateat.    (MS.  de  Neuf- 

1T  Qiiil  s'en  retonrne  a  Metz,  la  on  les  cnnemis  de  Dieu 
s'elevent  journellement  centre.  PEvangile.  (Tossanus  Farel- 
lo ;  17th  Dec.  15-24.  MS.  de  Nenfchatel ) 

**  Accepi  ante  horam  a  fratre  tuo  epistolam  quam  hie  n«Hi 
manifestavi :  terrentur  enim  infirmi.  (Coctus  Farello,  2d 
Sept.  1524. 


IMAGE  OF  ST.  ANTHONY— DEFEAT  AND  CAPTIVITY  OF  FRANCIS  I. 


353 


haps  need  it.  I  am  minded  to  enter  France  secretly, 
and  visit  Jacobus  Faber,  (Lefevic)  and  Arandius. 
Write  me  your  opinion  of  this  plan."* 

Such  was  the  unreserved  confidence  which  existed 
among  these  refugees.  De  Coct,  it  is  true,  was  al- 
ready indebted  thirty- six  crowns  to  Farel,  whose  purse 
was  ever  at  the  service  of  his  friends.  The  knight's 
plan  of  returning  to  France  was  one  of  more  zeal  than 
wisdom.  His  habitual  want  of  caution  would  have  ex- 
posed him  to  certain  death.  This,  Farel  doubtless  ex- 
plained to  him.  Leaving  Basle  he  withdrew  to  a 
small  town,  having,  as  he  said,  "  great  hopes  of  ac- 
quiring the  German  tongue,  God  willing.1'! 

Farel  continued  to  preach  the  Gospel  at  Montbe- 
liard. His  spirit  was  grieved  within  him,  beholding 
the  great  body  of  the  people  of  that  place  wholly  given 
to  the  worship  of  images.  In  his  opinion  it  was  no 
better  than  a  return  to  heathen  idolatry. 

Nevertheless  the  exhortations  of  CEcolampadius,  and 
the  fear  of  compromising  the  truth,  would,  perhaps, 
have  long  restrained  him,  but  for  an  unforseen  circum- 
stance. One  day,  toward  the  end  of  February  (it 
was  the  feast  of  St.  Anthony,)  Farel  was  walking  near 
the  banks  of  a  little  river  that  runs  through  the  town, 
below  the  lofty  rock  on  which  stands  the  citadel,  when 
as  he  reached  the  bridge,  he  met  a  procession,  reciting 
prayers  to  St.  Anthony,  and  headed  by  two  priests, 
bearing  the  image  of  that  saint.  He  thus  found  himself 
suddenly  brought  into  contact  with  these  superstitions. 
A  violent  struggle  took  place  in  his  soul ;  shall  he  be 
silent,  or  conceal  himself?  would  it  not  be  a  cowardly 
want  of  faith  1  These  dumb  idols,  borne  on  the  shoul- 
ders of  ignorant  priests,  made  his  blood  boil.  He 
boldly  advanced,  snatched  from  the  priest's  arms  the 
shrine  of  the  holy  hermit,  and  threw  it  from  the  bridge 
into  the  stream.  Then,  turning  toward  the  astonished 
crowd,  he  exclaimed  aloud,  "  Poor  idolaters,  will  ye 
never  put  away  your  idols  ?"i 

The  priests  and  people  were  motionless  in  astonish- 
ment. A  holy  fear  for  a  while  paralysed  them  ;  but 
soon  recovering  they  exclaimed,  "  The  image  is  sink- 
ing," and  their  motionless  silence  was  succeeded  by 
transports  of  rage.  The  crowd  would  have  rushed 
upon  the  sacrilegious  wretch  who  had  hurled  into  the 
river  the  object  of  their  adoration  ;  but  Farel,  we  know 
not  how,  escaped  their  fury. $ 

Many  may  regret  that  the  Reformer  allowed  himself 
to  be  hurried  into  an  act  which  tended  to  check  the 
progress  of  the  truth.  We  can  enter  into  their  feelings. 
Let  no  man  think  himself  authorized  to  attack  with  vio- 
lence, an  institution  which  has  the  public  sanction.  Yet 
is  there  in  this  zeal  of  the  Reformer  a  something  more 
noble  than  the  cold  prudence  so  common  in  the  world, 
and  which  shrinks  from  incurring  the  smallest  danger, 
or  making  the  most  trifling  sacrifice  for  the  advance- 
ment of  God's  kingdom.  Farel  well  knew  that  by  this 
act  he  was  exposing  himself  to  the  death  which  Le- 
clerc  had  suffered.  But  his  own  conscience  bore  tes- 
timony that  he  desired  only  to  promote  the  glory  of 
God,  and  this  elevated  him  above  all  fear. 

After  this  incident  of  the  bridge,  in  which  we  dis- 
cern his  natural  character,  Farel  was  obliged  to  con- 
ceal himself,  and  soon  afterward  to  quit  the  city.  He 
took  refuge  with  CEcolampadius  at  Basle  ;  but  he  ever 
retained  that  attachment  to  Montbeliard,  which  a  ser- 


»  Coct  a  Farel,  Dec.  1524.    MS.  de  Neufchatel. 

t  Coct  a  Farel,  Jan.  1525.     (Ibid.) 

j  Revue  du  Dauphine,  torn,  ii  p.  33.     MS  de  Choupard. 

^  M.  Kirchhoffer,  in  his  Lite  of  Farel,  gives  this  circum- 
stance as  an  uncertain  tradition  :  but  it  is  rela'ed  by  Protestant 
writers,  and  besides  seems  to  me  perfectly  consistent  with  the 
character  of  Farel  and  the  fears  of  OEcolampadius.  It  is  our 
duty  to  admit  the  weakness  of  the  Reformation. 
Vv 


vant  of  God  never  ceases  to  cherish  for  the  scene  of 
the  first-fruits  of  his  ministry.* 

At  Basle,  sad  tidings  awaited  him.  Himself  a  fu- 
gitive, he  now  learned  that  Anemond  de  Coct  was 
dangerously  ill.  Farel  immediately  remitted  to  him 
four  gold  crowns :  but  on  the  25th  of  March,  a  letter  from 
Oswald  Myconius  brought  him  intelligence  of  the 
knight's  death.  "  Let  us  so  live,"  wrote  Oswald, 
"  that  we  may  enter  into  that  rest  which  we  trust  the 
soul  of  Anemond  has  now  entered  upon."t 

Thus  prematurely  died  Anemond  ;  still  young,  full 
of  activity  and  energy,  in  himself  a  host,  ready  to  un- 
dertake every  labour,  and  brave  every  danger  in  the 
hope  of  evangelizing  France.  God's  ways  are  not  our 
ways.  Not  long  before,  and  near  Zurich  too,  another 
noble,  Ulric  von  Hutten,  had  breathed  his  last.  Points 
of  resemblance  are  not  wanting  between  the  two  ;  but 
the  piety  and  Christian  virtues  of  the  native  of  Dau- 
phiny  entitle  him  to  rank  far  above  the  level  of  the  wit- 
ty and  intrepid  enemy  of  the  Pope  and  monks. 

Shortly  after  Ancmond's  death,  Farel,  finding  it  im- 
possible to  remain  at  Basle,  whence  he  had  already  been 
expelled,  joined  his  friends  Capito  and  Bucer  at  Stras- 
burg. 


Thus  at  Montbeliard  and  at  Basle,  as  well  as  at  Ly- 
ons, the  ranks  of  the  Reformers  were  thinned.  Of 
those  who  most  zealously  contended  for  the  faith,  some 
had  been  removed  by  death — others  were  scattered  by 
persecution,  and  in  exile.  In  vain  did  the  combatants 
turn  their  efforts  in  every  direction.  On  all  sides  they 
were  repulsed.  But  though  the  forces  concentrated 
first  at  Meaux,  then  at  Lyons,  and  lastly  at  Basle,  had 
been  successively  broken  up,  there  remained  here  and 
there,  in  Lorraine,  at  Meaux,  and  even  in  Paris,  good 
soldiers,  who  struggled,  more  or  less  openly,  in  support 
of  God's  word  in  France.  Though  the  Reformation 
saw  its  ranks  broken,  it  still  had  its  single  champions. 
Against  these  the  Sorbonne  and  the  Parliment  now 
turned  their  anger.  The  resolution  was  taken  to  ex- 
terminate from  the  soil  of  France  the  devoted  men 
who  had  undertaken  to  plant  thereon  the  standard  of 
Jesus  Christ ;  and  unprecedented  misfortunes  seemed 
at  this  season  to  conspire  with  the  enemies  of  the  Re- 
formation to  favour  the  attainment  of  their  purpose. 

During  the  latter  part  of  Farel's  stay  at  Montbeliard 
great  events  had  indeed  taken  place  on  the  theatre  of 
the  world.  Lannoy,  and  Pescara,  Charle's  generals, 
having  quitted  France  on  the  approach  of  Francis  I., 
that  Prince  crossed  the  Alps,  and  blockaded  Pavia. 
On  the  24th  of  February,  1525,  Pescara  attacked  him. 
Bonnivet,  la  Tremouille,  la  Palisse  and  Lescure  died, 
fighting  by  his  side.  The  Duke  of  Alencjon,  the  first 
prince  of  the  blood  and  husband  of  Margaret,  fled, 
carrying  with  him  the  rear-guard,  and  died  of  shame 
and  grief  at  Lyons.  Francis  himself,  thrown  from  his 
horse,  surrendered  his  sword  to  Charles  de  Lannoy, 
viceroy  of  Naples,  who  received  it  kneeling  on  one 
knee.  The  King  of  France  was  the  Emperor's  priso- 
ner !  His  captivity  seemed  to  be  the  greatest  of  all 
misfortunes.  "  Nothing  is  left  me  but  honour  and  life," 
wrote  that  Prince  to  his  mother.  But  to  none  was 
this  event  more  affecting  than  to  Margaret.  The  glo- 
ry of  her  country  over-clouded,  France  without  a  mon- 
arch, and  exposed  to  accumulated  dangers,  her  beloved 
brother  the  captive  of  his  haughty  foe,  her  husband  dis- 
honoured and  dead,  what  an  overflowing  cup  of  bitter- 
ness !  But  she  had  a  Comforter  :  and  while  her 
brother  sought  to  comfort  himself  by  repeating,  "  Tout 
est  perdu,  fors  I'honneur  /"  (all  is' lost  save  honour !) 

*  Ingens    affectus,  qui  me  cogit  Mumpelgardum  amare. 
(Farelii  Epp.) 

t  Quo  Anemundi  spiritum  jam  pervanisse  speramus.    (My 
I  conius  Farello,  MS.  de  Neufchatel.} 


354      OPPOSERS  OF  THE  FAITH— THE  QUEEN  MOTHER  AND  THE  SORBONNE. 


She  was  able  to  say,  'Fors  Jesus  seul,  mon  frere,  fils 
de  Dtt'M,'  "  Save  Christ  alone,  my  brother,  Son  of 
God!"* 

All  France,  nobles,  parliment,  and  people,  were  over- 
whelmed in  consternation.  Ere  long,  as  in  the  first 
three  centuries  of  the  Church,  the  calamity  which  had 
overtaken  the  state  was  charged  upon  the  Christians, 
and  the  cry  of  fanatics  on  all  sides  demanded  their 
blood  as  the  means  of  averting  farther  misfortunes. 
The  moment,  therefore,  was  favourable  to  the  oppo- 
sers  of  the  truth  ;  it  was  not  enough  to  have  dislodg- 
ed the  evangelical  Christians  from  the  three  strong 
positions  they  had  taken  up,  it  was  necessary  to  profit 
by  the  popular  panic  to  strike  while  the  iron  was  hot, 
and  utterly  to  extirpate  a  power  which  was  becoming 
ao  formidable  to  the  Papacy. 

At  the  head  of  this  conspiracy,  and  loudest  in  these 
clamours,  were  Beda,  Duchesne,  and  Lecouturier. 
These  irreconcilable  enemies  of  the  Gospel  flattered 
themselves  that  they  might  easily  obtain,  from  public 
terror,  the  victims  hitherto  refused.  They  went  im- 
mediately to  work  employing  fanatical  harangues,  la- 
mentations, threats,  and  libels,  to  arouse  the  angry 
passions  of  the  nation  and  its  governors,  vomiting  fire 
and  flame  against  their  adversaries,  and  heaping  insults 
upon  themf 

They  stopped  at  nothing  ;  dishonestly  quoting  their 
words,  without  reference  to  any  explanatory  context, 
substituting  expressions  of  their  own  in  place  of  those 
used  by  the  teachers  they  wished  to  inculpate,  and 
omitting,  or  adding,  according  as  was  necessary,  to 
blacken  the  character  of  their  opponents.}:  Such  is 
the  testimony  of  Erasmus  himself. 

Nothing  so  much  excited  their  anger  as  the  doctrine 
of  Salvation  by  Free  Grace — the  corner-stone  of  Chris- 
tianity and  of  the  Reformation.  "  When  I  contem- 
plate," said  Beda,  "  these  three  men,  Lefevre,  Eras- 
mus, and  Luther,  in  other  respects  gifted  with  so 
penetrating  a  genius,  leagued  together  in  a  conspiracy 
against  meritorious  works,  and  resting  all  the  weight 
of  salvation  on  faith  alone, $  I  am  no  longer  astonished 
that  thousands,  led  away  by  such  teaching,  begin  to 
say,  '  Why  should  I  fast  and  mortify  my  body  V  Let 
us  banish  from  France  this  hateful  doctrine  of  grace 
This  neglect  of  good  works  is  a  fatal  snare  of  the 
devil." 

Thus  did  the  syndic  of  the  Sorbonne  fight  against 
the  faith.  He  would  naturally  find  supporters  in  a 
profligate  court,  and  likewise  in  another  class  of  people, 
more  respectable,  but  not  less  opposed  to  the  Gospel ; 
we  mean  those  grave  men,  and  rigid  moralists,  who 
devoted  to  the  study  of  laws  and  judicial  forms,  dis- 
cern in  Christianity  no  more  than  a  system  of  laws, 
and  in  the  Church  only  a  sort  of  moral  police,  and  who, 
unable  to  make  the  doctrines  of  man's  spiritual  help 
lessness,  the  new  birth,  and  justification  by  faith,  square 
with  the  legal  habit  of  their  minds,  are  induced  to  re- 
gard them  as  fanciful  imaginations,  dangerous  to  public 
morals  and  to  national  prosperity.  This  aversion  to 
the  doctrine  of  free  grace,  manifested  itself  in  the  16th 
century,  under  two  widely  different  forms.  In  Italy 
and  in  Poland  it  took  the  form  of  Socinianism,  so  called 
from  its  originator,  who  was  descended  from  a  cele- 
brated family  of  jurists  at  Sienna  ;  while  in  France,  i 
showed  itself  in  the  stern  decrees  and  burnings  of  the 
Parliament. 

*  Les  Marguerites  de  la  Marguerite,  p.  39. 

I  Plus  quam  scurrillibus  conviciis  debacchantes  . .  .  (Er 
Francisco  Regi,  p.  1103) 

t  Pro  raeis  verbis  supponit  sua,  prsetermittit  addit.  (Ibid,  p 
887.) 

^  Cum  Haqne  cerneram  tres  istos  . .  uno  nnimo  in  opera 
meritoria  conspirasse.  (Natalis  Beda?  Apologia  adversu 
clandestinos  Lutheranos,  fol.  41.) 


Contemning  the  great  truths  of  the  Gospel,  as  pro- 
mulgated by  the  Reformers,  and  thinking  it  necessary 
o  do  something  at  this  season  of  overwhelming  cala- 
mity, the  Parliament  presented  an  address  to  Louisa 
>f  Savoy,  remonstrating  strongly  on  the  conduct  of 
he  government  toward  the  new  teaching :  "  Heresy," 
said  they,  "has  raised  its  head  among  us,  and  the 
ting,  by  his  neglecting  to  bring  the  heretics  to  the  scaf- 
bld,  has  drawn  down  upon  us  the  wrath  of  heaven." 

At  the  same  time  the  pulpits  resounded  with  lamen- 
ations,  threatenings,  and  maledictions  ;  and  prompt 
md  signal  punishments  were  loudly  demanded.  Mar- 
ial  Ma/urier  took  a  prominent  part  among  the  preach- 
ers of  Paris,  and  endeavouring  by  his  violence  to  efface 
he  recollection  of  his  former  connexion  with  the  par- 
isans  of  the  Reformation,  inveighed  against  such  as 
were  "  secretly  the  disciples  of  Luther."  "  Know 
you,"  cried  he,  "  the  rapid  progress  of  this  poison  1 
Snow  you  its  strength"!  It  acts  wit'h  inconceivable 

pidity  ;  in  a  moment  it  may  destroy  tens  of  thousands 
of  souls.  Ah  !  well  may  we  tremble  for  France."* 

It  was  not  difficult  to  excite  the  Queen-mother 
against  the  favourers  of  the  Reformation.  Her  daugh- 
er  Margaret,  the  chief  personages  of  the  court,  she 
lerself,  Louisa  of  Savoy,  who  had  ever  been  devoted 
to  the  Roman  Pontiff,  had  been  by  certain  of  the  fana- 
;ics,  charged  with  countenancing  Lefevre,  Berquin,  and 
the  other  innovators.  Had  she  not  been  known,  in- 
sinuated her  accusers,  to  read  their  tracts  and  transla- 
tions of  the  Bible  ?  The  Queen-mother  was  not  un- 
willing to  clear  herself  of  such  dishonouring  suspicions. 
Already  she  had  despatched  her  confessor  to  the  Sor- 
bonne to  inquire  of  that  body  as  to  the  best  method  of 
extirpating  this  heresy.  "  The  detestable  doctrine  of 
Luther,"  s-aid  she,  in  her  message  to  the  faculty,  "  every 
day  gains  new  adherents."  The  faculty  smiled  on  the 
receipt  of  this  message.  The  time  had  been  when 
the  representations  they  had  made  were  dismissed  with- 
out so  much  as  a  hearing  ;  but  now  their  advice  was 
humbly  solicited  in  the  matter.  At  length  they  held 
within  their  grasp  that  heresy  which  they  had  so  long 
desired  to  stifle.  They  deputed  Noel  Beda  to  return 
an  immediate  answer  to  the  Queen-Regent.  "  Since," 
said  the  fanatical  syndic,  "  the  sermons,  discussions, 
and  books,  with  which  we  have  so  often  opposed  heresy, 
have  failed  to  arrest  its  progress,  a  proclamation  ought 
to  be  put  forth,  prohibiting  the  circulation  of  the  writ- 
ings of  the  heretics — and  if  these  measures  should 
prove  insufficient,  force  and  restraint  should  be  cm- 
ployed  against  the  persons  of  the  false  teachers  ;  for 
they  who  resist  the  light  must  be  subdued  by  punish- 
ments and  terror."t 

But  Louisa  had  not  even  waited  for  their  answer. 
Scarcely  had  Francis  fallen  into  the  hands  of  Charles 
V.,  when  she  wrote  to  the  Pope,  consulting  him  as  to 
his  wishes  with  respect  to  heretics.  It  was  important 
to  Louisa's  policy  to  secure  to  herself  the  favour  of  a 
pontiff  who  had  power  to  raise  all  Italy  against  the 
conqueror  of  Pavia ;  and  she  did  not  think  that  favour 
would  be  too  dearly  bought  at  the  cost  of  some  French 
blood.  The  Pope,  delighted  at  the  opportunity  of  let- 
ting loose  his  vengence  in  the  "  most  Christian  king- 
dom," against  a  heresy  of  which  he  had  failed  to  arrest 
the  progress  either  in  Switzerland  or  Germany,  gave 
instant  directions  for  the  establishment  of  the  Inquisi- 
tion in  France,  and  despatched  a  bull  to  that  effect  to 
the  Parliament.  At  the  same  time  Duprat,  whom  the 
pontiff  had  created  a  cardinal,  at  the  same  time  be- 
stowing upon  him  the  archbishopric  of  Sens  and  a  rich 

*  Maznrius  contra  occultos  Lutheri  discipuil  os  declamat, 
ac  recentis  veneni  celeritatem  vimque  denunciat.  (Lannoj 
regii  Navarre  gymnassii  historia.  p.  621.) 

f  Histoire  de  1'Univcrsitc,  par  Crevier,  v.  p.  196. 


CHARGES  AGAINST  BRICONNET— CITED  BEFORE  THE  INQUISITION.          355 


abbey,  laboured  to  testify  his  gratitude  for  these  fa- 
vours, by  his  indefatigable  opposition  to  the  heretics. 
Thus  the  Pope,  and  the  Regent,  the  doctors  of  the  Sor- 
bonne  and  the  Parliament,  the  Chancellor,  and  the  fana- 
tics, were  now  combining  to  ruin  the  Gospel  and  put 
its  confessors  to  death. 

The  Parliament  was  first  in  motion.  The  time  had 
arrived,  when  it  was  necessary  that  the  first  body  in 
the  state  should  take  steps  against  the  new  doctrine  : 
moreover,  it  might  seem  called  to  act,  inasmuch  as  the 
public  tranquillity  was  at  stake.  Accordingly,  the  Par- 
liament, "  under  the  impulse  of  a  holy  zeal  against  the 
innovations,"  issued  an  edict,*  "  that  the  Bishop  of 
Paris,  and  certain  other  bishops,  should  be  held  respon- 
sible to  M.  Philippe  Pott,  president  of  requests,  and 
Andrew  Verjus,  its  counsellor,  and  to  Messires  Wil- 
liam Duchesne,  and  Nicolas  Leclerc,  doctors  of  divi- 
nity, to  institute  and  conduct  the  trial  of  persons  tainted 
with  the  Lutheran  doctrine." 

"  And  with  a  purpose  of  making  it  appear  that  those 
persons  were  acting  rather  under  the  authority  of  the 
Church  than  of  the  Parliament,  it  pleased  his  Holi- 
ness, the  Pope,  to  forward  a  brief,  dated  20th  May, 
1525,  in  which  he  approved  the  commissioners  that  had 
been  named." 

"  Accordingly,  in  pursuance  of  these  measures,  all 
who,  being  called  before  these  deputies,  were  by  the 
bishop  or  by  the  ecclesiastical  judges,  pronounced  Lu- 
therans, were  handed  over  to  the  secular  arm — that  is, 
to  the  said  Parliament,  who  forthwith  condemned  them 
to  the  flames. "t  We  quote  the  very  words  of  a  manu- 
script of  that  age. 

Such  was  the  dreadful  court  of  Inquisition,  appoint- 
ed, during  the  captivity  of  Francis  I.,  to  take  cogni- 
zance of  the  charge  against  the  Evangelic  Christians 
of  France,  as  dangerous  to  the  state.  Its  members 
were  two  laymen  and  two  ecclesiastics  ;  and  one  of 
these  latter  was  Duchesne,  next  to  Beda  the  most  fana- 
tical of  the  adverse  party.  Shame  had  prevented  their 
placing  Beda  himself  in  the  commission,  but  his  influ- 
ence was  only  the  more  secured  by  the  precaution. 

Thus  the  machinery  was  set  up — its  various  springs 
in  order — and  every  one  of  its  blows  likely  to  be  mor- 
tal. It  was  an  important  point  to  settle  against  whom 
its  first  proceedings  should  be  taken.  Beda,  Duch- 
esne, and  Leclerc,  M.  Philip  Pott,  the  president,  and 
Andrew  Verjus,  the  counsellor,  met  to  deliberate  on 
this  point.  Was  there  not  the  Count  of  Montbrun, 
the  old  friend  of  Louis  XII.,  and  the  former  ambassa- 
dor at  the  court  of  Rome,  Brigonnet,  then  Bishop  of 
Meaux  ?  This  committee  of  public  safety,  of  1525, 
thought  that  by  singling  out  its  object  from  an  elevat- 
ed station,  it  should  strike  terror  through  all  hearts. 
This  consideration  seems  to  have  decided  them  ;  and 
the  venerable  bishop  received  notice  of  trial. 

Far  from  quailing  before  the  persecution  of  1523, 
Briyonnet  had  persisted,  in  conjunction  with  Lefevrc, 
in  opposing  the  popular  superstitions.  The  more  emi- 
nent his  station  in  the  Church  and  in  the  State,  the 
more  fatal  did  the  effect  of  his  example  appear,  and  the 
more  did  his  enemies  judge  it  necessary  to  extort  from 
him  a  public  recantation,  or  to  bring  him  to  a  yet  more 
public  retribution.  The  court  of  inquisition  lost  no  time 
in  collecting  and  preparing  the  evidence  against  him. 
He  was  charged  with  harbouring  the  teachers  of  the 
new  heresy  :  it  was  alleged  that  a  week  after  the  superior 
of  the  Cordeliers  had  preached  in  St.  Martin's  church 
at  Meaux,  by  direction  of  the  Sorbonne,  to  restore 

»  De  la  religion  catholique  en  France,  par  de  Lezeau.  MS 
de  la  bibliotheque  de  Sainte-Genevieve  at  Paris. 

fThe  MS.  of  the  Library  of  St.  Genevieve,  whence  I  have 
derived  this  fragment,  bears  the  name  of  Lezeau,  but  in  the 
catalogue  that  of  Lcfebre. 


sound  doctrine — Briqonnet  had  himself  occupied  the 
pulpit,  and,  in  publicly  refuting  him,  had  designated 
.he  preacher  and  his  brother  Cordeliers  impostors,  false 
prophets,  and  hypocrites  ;  and  that,  not  satisfied  with 
that,  he  had,  through  his  official,  summoned  the  superi- 
or to  appear  personally  to  answer  to  him.* 

It  would  even  seem,  if  we  may  trust  to  one  manu- 
script of  the  time,  that  the  Bishop  had  gone  much  far- 
ther, and  that  he  in  person,  attended  by  Lefevre,  had 
'n  the  autumn  of  1524  gone  over  his  diocese,  commit- 
ting to  the  flames,  wherever  he  came,  all  images,  the 
crucifix  alone  excepted.  So  daring  a  conduct,  which 
would  go  to  prove  so  much  decision,  combined  with 
much  timidity  in  the  character  of  Brigonnet — if  wo 
give  credit  to  the  fact — would  not  fix  upon  him  the 
blame  visited  on  other  iconoclasts ;  for  he  was  at  the 
head  of  that  Church  whose  superstitions  he  then  sought 
to  reform,  and  was,  therefore,  acting  at  least  in  the 
sphere  of  his  rights  and  duties. t 

However  we  may  regard  it,  in  the  eyes  of  the  ene- 
mies of  the  Gospel,  the  charge  against  Briqonnet  was 
of  a  very  aggravated  character.  He  had  not  merely 
impugned  the  Church's  authority,  he  had  erected  him- 
self against  the  Sorbonne  itself— that  society,  all  the 
energies  of  which  were  directed  to  the  perpetuation  of 
its  own  greatness.  Great,  therefore,  was  the  joy  in 
the  society  at  the  intelligence  that  its  adversary  was  to 
stand  a  trial  before  the  Inquisition,  and  John  Bochart, 
one  of  the  leading  lawyers  of  the  time,  pleading  before 
the  Parliament  against  Briqonnet,  exclaimed  aloud — • 
"  Neither  the  bishop,  nor  any  single  individual  can 
lawfully  exalt  himself,  or  open  his  mouth  against  the 
faculty.  Neither  is  the  faculty  called  to  discuss  or 
give  its  reasons  at  the  bar  of  the  said  bishop,  whose 
duty  it  is  to  offer  no  opposition  to  the  wisdom  of  that 
holy  society,  but  to  esteem  it  as  under  the  guidance 
of  God  himself."t 

In  conformity  with  this  representation,  the  Parlia- 
ment put  forth  an  edict  on  the  3d  October,  1525, 
wherein,  after  authorizing  the  arrest  of  all  those  who 
had  been  informed  against ;  it  gave  orders  that  the 
bishop  should  be  examind  by  Master  James  Menager 
and  Andrew  Verjus,  counsellors  of  the  court,  touching 
the  matters  charged  against  him.§ 

The  order  of  the  Parliament  struck  terror  to  the 
bishop's  heart.  Briponnet,  twice  honoured  with  the 
post  of  ambassador  at  Rome — Briqonnet,  a  bishop,  a 
noble,  the  intimate  friend  of  Louis  XII.,  and  Francis 
I. — to  undergo  an  interrogatory  by  two  counsellors  of 
the  court  ....  He  who  had  fondly  dreamed  that 
God  would  kindle  in  the  hearts  of  the  king,  his  mother, 
and  his  sister,  a  flame  that  would  run  through  the  king- 
dom, now  beheld  that  kingdom  turning  against  him,  in 
the  endeavour  to  quench  that  fire  which  it  had  receiv- 
ed from  Heaven.  The  king  was  a  captive  ;  his  mother 
was  placing  herself  at  the  head  of  the  enemy's  force  ; 
and  Margaret  dismayed  by  the  misfortunes  of  her  coun- 
try, no  longer  dared  to  avert  the  blow  directed  against 
her  dearest  friends,  and  falling  first  on  the  spiritual 

*  Hist,  de  1'Universite,  par  Crcvier,  v.  p.  204. 

t  In  the  library  of  the  pastors  of  Neufchatel,  is  a  letter  of 
Sebville,  in  which  the  following  passage  occurs  :  "  Je  te 
notifie  que  1'eveque  de  Meaux  en  Brie  pres  Paris  cum  Jacobo 
Fabro  stapulensi,  depuis  trois  mois,  en  visitant  1'eveche  ont 
brule  actu  tous  les  images,  reserve  le  crucifix,  et  sont  person 
ellement  ajournes  a  Paris  a  ce  mois  de  mars  venant  pour  re- 
pondre  coram  suprema  curia  et  univcrsitate."  I  am  rather  dis- 
posed to  think  the  fact  truly  stated,  though  Sebville  was  not 
on  the  spot,  Mezeray,  Daniel,  and  Maimbourgh  make  no  men- 
tion of  it.  These  Roman  Catholic  writers,  who  are  not  very 
circumstantial,  may  have  had  motives  for  passing  over  the  fact 
in  silence,  considering  the  issue  of  the  trial ;  and  moreover, 
the  report  of  Sebville  agrees  with  all  the  known  facts.  How- 
ever, the  matter  is  open  to  question. 

t  Hist,  de  1'Universite,  parCrevier,  v.  p.  204. 

§  Maimbourg  Hist,  du  Calv.  p.  14. 


356    REFUSED  A  TRIAL  BY  HIS  PEERS— BRICONNET'S  TEMPTATION  AND  FALL. 


father  who  had  so  often  cheered  and  comforted  her 
Not  long  before  this,  she  had  written  to  BriQonr.et  a 
letter  full  of  pious  emotions  :  "Oh  !"  she  had  said, 
"  that  this  poor  languid  heart  might  experience  some 
wannih  of  that  love  with  which  I  would  that  it  were 
burnt  to  ashes."*  But  the  time  had  arrived  when  the 
question  was  one  of  literal  burnings.  Such  rnystica 
expressions  were  not  now  in  season  ;  and  one  who  re- 
solved to  confess  the  faith  must  brave  the  scaffold  ! 
The  poor  bishop,  who  had  been  so  sanguine  in  the 
hope  to  see  the  Reformation  gradually  and  gently  win- 
ning its  way  in  men's  minds,  trembled  in  dismay  when 
he  found,  that,  at  the  eleventh  hour,  it  must  be  pur- 
chased at  the  sacrifice  of  life  itself.  It  is  possible  such 
a  thought  may  never  before  have  occurred  to  him,  and 
he  recoiled  from  it  in  an  agony  of  fear. 

One  hope,  however,  remained  for  Briqonnet ;  and 
that  was,  that  he  might  be  allowed  to  appear  before 
the  Chambers  of  Parliament  in  general  assembly  agreea- 
bly to  the  privilege  belonging,  by  custom,  to  his  rank. 
Doubtless,  in  that  august  and  numerous  assembly  some 
generous  hearts  would  respond  to  his  appeal,  and  es 
pouse  his  cause.  Accordingly,  he  humbly  petitioned 
the  court  to  grant  him  this  indulgence  ;  but  his  enemies 
had  equally  with  himself  calculated  the  possible  issue 
of  such  a  hearing.  Had  they  not  learned  a  lesson  when 
Luther,  in  presence  of  the  Germanic  Diet,  at  Worms* 
had  shaken  the  resolution  of  those  who  had  previously 
seemed  most  decided  1  Carefully  closing  every  avenue 
of  escape,  they  exerted  themselves  with  such  effect, 
that  the  Parliament  on  the  25th  October,  1525,  in  an 
edict  affirming  that  previously  issued,!  refused  Briqou- 
net  the  favour  he  had  petitioned  for. 

Behold  the  Bishop  of  Meaux,  placed  like  a  common 
priest  of  the  lowest  order  before  Masters  James  Mena- 
ger  and  Andrew  Verjus.  Those  two  jurisconsults, 
the  obedient  tools  of  the  Sorbonne,  were  not  likely  to 
be  swayed  by  those  higher  considerations  to  which  the 
Chambers  of  Parliament  might  be  accessible ;  they 
were  men  of  facts  :  was  it,  or  was  it  not,  a  fact,  that 
the  bishop  had  set  himself  in  opposition  to  the  society  ? 
With  them,  this  was  the  only  question.  Accordingly 
BriQonnet's  conviction  was  secured. 

While  the  sword  was  thus  impending  over  the  head 
of  the  bishop,  the  monks,  priests,  and  doctors,  made 
the  best  use  of  their  time  ;  they  saw  plainly  that  if 
Bri<?onnet  could  be  persuaded  to  retract,  their  interest 
would  be  better  served  than  by  his  martyrdom.  His 
death  would  but  inflame  the  zeal  of  those  who  were 
united  with  him  in  their  faith,  while  his  apostacy  would 
plunge  them  in  the  deepest  discouragement.  They 
accordingly  went  to  work.  They  visited  him,  and 
pressed  him  with  their  entreaties.  Martial  Mazurier 
especially  strained  every  nerve  to  urge  him  to  a  fall,  as 
he  himself  had  fallen.  Arguments  were  not  wanting, 
which  might,  to  Brigonnet,  seem  spacious.  Would 
he  then  take  the  consequence,  and  be  rejected  from  his 
office  1  If  he  remained  in  the  church,  might  he  not 
use  his  influence  with  the  king  and  the  court  to  an  ex 
tent  of  good  which  it  was  not  easy  to  estimate!  What 
would  become  of  his  friends  when  his  power  was  at  an 
end  ?  Was  not  his  resistance  likely  to  compromise 
the.  success  of  a  Reformation  which,  to  be  salutary 
and  lasting,  ought  to  be  carried  into  effect  by  the  legi- 
timate influence  of  the  clergy  1  How  many  would  be 
stumbled  by  his  persisting  in  opposition  to  the  Church  ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  how  many  would  be  won  over 
by  his  concessions  1  His  advisers  pretended  that  they, 
too,  were  anxious  for  a  Reformation  ;  "  All  is  goincr 
on  by  insensible  steps,"  said  they  ;  "  both  at  the  court^ 
in  the  city,  and  in  the  provences,  things  are  progress- 

*  MS.  de  la  Biblioth.    Royale,  S  F.  No.  337. 
t  Maimbourg  Hist,  du  CalV.  p.  15. 


ing  :  and  would  he,  in  the  mere  lightness  of  his  heart, 
dash  the  fair  prospect  in  view  !  After  all  he  was  not 
asked  to  relinquish  what  he  had  taught,  but  mere- 
ly to  comply  with  the  established  order  of  the  Church. 
Could  it  be  well,  at  a  time  when  France  was  suffering 
under  the  pressure  of  so  many  reverses — to  stir  up  new 
confusions  ?  •'  In  the  name  of  religion,  country,  friends 
— nay,  even  of  the  Reformation  itself — consent!"  said 
they.  Such  are  the  sophisms  that  are  the  ruin  of  many 
a  noble  enterprise. 

Yet  every  one  of  these  considerations  had  its  in- 
fluence on  the  bishop's  mind.  The  Tempter,  who 
came  to  Jesus  in  the  wilderness,  presented  him- 
self to  Brigonnet  in  fair  and  specious  colours ; — 
and  instead  of  saying,  with  his  Master,  "  Get  thee  be- 
hind me,  Satan  /"  he  heard,  listened,  and  considered 
his  suggestions.  .  .  .  Thenceforward  his  faithfulness 
was  at  an  end. 

Brigonnet  had  never  been  embarked,  with  all  his 
heart,  like  Farel  or  Luther  in  the  movement  which 
was  then  remoulding  the  Church.  There  was  in  him 
a  sort  of  mystical  tendency,  which  enfeebles  the  souls 
in  which  it  gains  place,  and  takes  from  them  the  firm- 
ness and  confidence  which  are  derived  from  a  Faith 
that  resfs  simply  on  the  word  of  God.  The  cross  he 
was  called  to  take  up,  that  he  might  follow  Christ,  was 
too  heavy  for  him.*  Shaken  in  resolution,  alarmed, 
dizzy,  and  not  knowing  which  way  to  turn,  he  faltered, 
and  stumbled  against  the  stone  that  had  been  artfully 
laid  in  his  path}  ...  he  fell ;  and,  instead  of  throw- 
tig  himself  into  the  arms  of  Christ,  he  cast  himself  at 
the  feet  of  Mazurier.t,  and,  by  a  shameful  recantation, 
brought  a  dark  cloud  upon  the  glory  of  a  noble  fidel- 

4 

Thus  fell  Brigonnet,  the  friend  of  Lefevre  and  of 
Margaret ;  and  thus  the  earliest  protector  of  the  gos- 
Del  in  France,  denied  that  good  news  of  Grace,  in^the 
criminal  thought  that  his  abiding  faithful  would  com- 
promise his  influence  in  the  Church,  at  the  court,  and 
n  the  kingdom.  But  what  his  enemies  represented 
as  the  saving  of  his  country,  was,  perhaps,  the  great- 
est of  its  misfortunes.  What  might  not  have  been 
the  consequence,  if  Brigonnet  had  possessed  the  cou- 
rage of  Luther  1  If  one  of  the  most  eminent  of  the 
French  bishops,  enjoying  the  respect  of  the  king  and 
the  love  of  the  people,  had  ascended  the  scaffold,  and 
there,  like  '  the  poor  of  this  world,'  sealed,  by  a  cou- 
rageous confession  and  a  Christian  death,  the  truth  of 
the  Gospel — would  not  France  herself  have  been  put 
upon  reflection  ?  Would  not  the  blood  of  the  Bishop 
of  Meaux  have  served,  like  that  of  Polycarp  and  Cy- 
irian,  as  seed  of  the  Church ;  and  should  we  not  have 
seen  those  provinces,  so  famed  for  many  recollections, 
emancipating  themselves,  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
"rom  the  spiritual  darkness  in  which  they  are  still  en- 
veloped ? 

Brigonnet  underwent  the  form  of  an  interrogatory, 
n  presence  of  Masters  James  Menager  and  Andrew 
Verjus,  who  declared  that  he  had  sufficiently  vindicat- 
ed himself  from  the  crime  charged  against  him.  He 
was  then  put  under  penance,  and  convened  a  synod, 
at  which  he  condemned  the  writings  of  Luther,  retract- 
ed whatever  he  had  taught,  at  variance  with  the 

hurch's  teaching,  restored  the  custom  of  invocation 
of  saints,  persuading  such  as  had  left  the  rites  of  the 

hurch  to  return  to  them  ;  and  as  if  desiring  to  leave 
no  doubt  as  to  his  reconciliation  with  the  pope  and 
he  Sorbonne,  kept  a  solemn  fast  on  All-saints-evc, 

*  Crucis  statim  oblatae  terrore  perculsus.     (Bezae  Icones.) 

t  Dementatus.     (Ibid.) 

{  Ut  Episcopus  etiam  desisteret  suis  consiliis  effecit.  (Lau- 
noi,  regii  Navarre  gymnasii  hist.  p.  62!.) 

\<  Nisi  turpi  palinodia  gloriam  hano  oninem  ipse  sibi  invi- 
disset.  (Beza;  Icones.) 


BEDA  ATTACKS  LEFEVRE— LEFEVRE  AT  STRASBURG. 


357 


and  issued  orders  for  pompous  processions,  in  which 
he  appeared  personally,  evidencing  still  farther  his 
faith  by  his  largesses  and  apparent  devotion.* 

The  fall  of  Brigonnet  is  perhaps  the  most  memor- 
able of  all  those  recorded  of  that  period.  There  is  no 
like  example  of  one  so  deeply  engaged  in  the  work  o 
the  Reformation,  so  abruptly  turning  against  it  ;  yet 
must  we  carefully  consider  both  his  character  and  his 
fall.  Brigonnet  stood  relatively  to  Rome,  as  Lefevre 
stood  in  relation  to  the  Reformation.  Both  represent- 
ed a  sort  of  juste  milieu — appertaining,  in  strictness 
of  speech,  to  neither  party — as  it  were,  one  on  the 
right  and  the  other  on  the  left  centre.  The  Doctor  ol 
Etaples  leans  toward  the  Word ;  the  bishop  inclines 
toward  the  Hierarchy  ; — and  when  these  men,  who 
touch  each  other,  are  driven  to  decision,  we  see  the 
one  range  himself  on  the  side  of  Christ,  and  the  other 
on  the  side  of  Rome.  We  may  add,  that  it  is  not 
possible  to  think  that  Brigonnet  can  have  entirely 
laid  aside  the  convictions  of  his  faith,  and  at  no  time 
did  the  Roman  doctors  put  confidence  in  him ;  not 
even  after  he  had  retracted.  But  he  did,  as  did  after- 
ward the  Bishop  of  Cambray,  whom  he  in  some 
points  resembled ;  he  flattered  himself  he  might  out- 
wardly submit  to  the  Pope's  authority,  while  he  in  his 
heart  continued  subject  to  the  divine  Word.  Such 
weakness  is  incompatible  with  the  principle  of  the  Re- 
formation. Brigonnet  was  one  of  the  most  distin- 
guished of  the  quietist  or  mystic  school ;  and  it  is 
well  known  that  one  of  tho  leading  maxims  of  that 
school  has  ever  been  to  settle  down  in,  and  adapt  it- 
self to,  the  church  in  which  it  exists,  whatever  that 
church  may  be. 

The  mournful  fall  of  Brigonnet  was  felt  as  a  shock 
to  the  hearts  of  his  former  friends,  and  was  the  sad 
forerunner  of  those  deplorable  apostacies  to  which  the 
friendship  of  the  world  so  aften  led,  in  another  age  of 
French  history.  The  man  who  seemed  to  hold  the 
reins  of  the  movement  was  abruptly  precipitated  from 
his  seat,  and  the  Reformation  was,  in  that  country, 
thenceforth  to  pursue  its  course  without  a  leader  or 
guide,  in  lowliness  and  secresy.  But  the  disciples  of 
the  Gospel  from  that  time  lifted  up  their  eyes,  regard- 
ing with  more  fixedness  of  faith,  their  Head  in  heaven, 
whose  unchanging  faithfulness  their  souls  had  known. 

The  Sorbonne  was  triumphant.  A  great  advance 
toward  the  final  ruin  of  the  Reformation  in  France 
had  been  made,  and  it  was  important  to  follow  up  their 
success.  Lefevre  stood  next  after  Brigonnet,  and  Be- 
da  had,  therefore,  without  loss  of  time,  turned  his  hos- 
tility against  him,  publishing  a  tract  against  the  cele- 
brated doctor,  full  of  such  gross  calumnies,  that  we 
have  Erasmus's  judgment  of  them,  that  "  even  cob- 
blers and  smiths  could  lay  the  finger  on  the  falsehood 
of  them."  What  seemed  above  all  to  enrage  him  was 
that  doctrine  of  Justification  by  Faith,  which  Lefevre 
had  proclaimed  in  the  ears  of  Christians.  To  this 
Beda  continually  recurred  as  an  article  which,  accord- 
ing to  him,  overturned  the  Church.  "  What !"  he 
exclaimed,  "  Lefevre  affirms  that  whoever  ascribes  to 
himself  the  power  to  save  himself,  will  be  lost,  while 
whosoever,  laying  aside  all  strength  of  his  own,  casts 
himself  into  the  arms  of  Christ,  shall  be  saved 

Oh,  what  heresy  !  thus  to  teach  the  useless 

ness  of  meritorious  works What  hellish  doc- 
trine ! — what  delusion  of  the  devil !  Let  us  oppose 
it  with  all  our  power."f 

Instantly  that  engine  of  persecution,  which  took  ef- 

»  Mezeray,  ii.  p.  981  ;  Daniel,  v.  p.  644 ;  Moreri,  article 
Brigonnet. 

t  Pnrpemlens  perniciosissimam  demonis  fallaciam Oc. 

curri  quantum  valui.  (Nat.  Bedae  Apolog.  adv.  Lutheranos, 
fol.  42.) 


feet  in  the  recantation  or  in  the  death  of  its  victims, 
was  turned  against  Lefevre ;  and  already  hopes  were 
entertained  that  he  would  share  the  fate  of  Leclerc 
the  wool-comber,  or  that  of  the  Bishop  Brigonnet. 
His  trial  was  quickly  gono  through  ;  and  a  decree  of 
Parliament  condemned  nine  propositions  extracted  from 
his  commentaries  on  the  Gospels,  and  placed  his  transla 
tion  of  the  Scriptures  on  the  list  of  prohibited  works.* 

These  measures  were  felt  by  Lefevre  to  be  only  tho 
prelude  of  others.  From  the  first  intimation  of  the 
approaching  persecution  he  had  clearly  perceived,  that 
in  the  absence  of  Francis  the  First  he  would  not  be 
able  to  bear  up  under  his  cnemie's  attacks,  arid  that  the 
time  had  arrived  to  act  on  the  direction,  "  When  they 
persecute  you  in  one  city  flee  ye  unto  another."!  Le- 
fevre quitted  Meaux,  where,  ever  since  the  bishop's 
apostacy,  he  had  experienced  nothing  but  bitterness  of 
soul,  and  had  found  his  efforts  paralysed  ;  and  as  he 
looked  back  upon  his  persecutors,  he  shook  off  the  dust 
from  off  his  feet,  "  not  to  call  down  evil  upon  them,  but 
i-n  testimony  of  the  evils  that  were  coming  upon  them : 
for,"  says  he,  "  as  that  dust  is  shaken  from  off  our  feet, 
just  so  are  they  cast  off  from  the  favour  and  presence 
of  the  Lord."* 

The  persecutors/  beheld  their  victim  at  large  ;  but 
they  derived  comfort  from  the  thought  that,  at  least 
France  was  delivered  from  this  father  of  heresy. 

Lefevre,  a  fugitive  from  his  enemies,  arrived  at 
Strasburg  under  an  assumed  name.  There  he  was 
immediately  introduced  to  the  friends  of  the  Reforma- 
tion ;  and  what  must  have  been  his  joy,  to  hear  pub- 
licly taught  that  same  Gospel  of  which  he  caught  the 
first  gleams  in  the  Church  ;  why,  it  was  just  his  own 
faith  !  It  was  exactly  what  he  had  intended  to  express ! 
It  was  as  if  he  had  been  a  second  time  born  to  tho 
Christian  life.  Gerard  Roussel,  one  of  those  Evan- 
gelical Christians,  who,  nevertheless,  like  the  Doctor 
of  Etaples,  attained  not  to  complete  enfranchisement, 
had  been  likewise  compelled  to  quit  France.  Both  to- 
gether attended  the  lectures  of  Capito  and  of  Bucer,§ 
and  met  in  private  intercourse  with  those  faithful  teach- 
ers. ||  It  was  even  rumoured  that  they  had  been  com- 
missioned to  do  so,  by  Margaret,  the  king's  sister.tf 
But  the  adoring  contemplation  of  the  ways  of  God, 
rather  than  polemical  questions,  engaged  Lefevre's  at- 
tention. Casting  a  glance  upon  the  state  of  Christen- 
dom,  and  filled  with  wonder  at  what  he  beheld  passing 
on  its  stage,  moved  with  feelings  of  gratitude,  and  full 
of  hopeful  anticipation,  he  threw  himself  on  his  knees, 
and  prayed  to  the  Lord  "  to  perfect  that  which  he  savr 
then  beginning."** 

At  Strasburg  one  especially  agreeable  surprise 
awaited  him — his  pupil,  his  '  son  in  the  faith,'  Farel, 
from  whom  he  had  been  parted  by  persecution  for  near- 
ly three  years,  had  arrived  there  just  before.  The 
aged  doctor  of  the  Sorbonne  found,  in  his  young  pupil, 
a  man  in  the  vigour  of  life,  a  Christian,  '  strong  in  the 
faith.'  and  Farel  grasped  with  affectionate  respect  the 
shrivelled  hand  which  had  guided  his  earliest  steps, 
conscious  of  the  liveliest  joy  at  thus  recovering  his 
spiritual  father  in  the  society  of  faithful  men,  and  in 
a  city  that  had  received  the  truth.  They  attended  in 
company  the  pure  teaching  of  eminent  teachers,  broke 

»  I.  Lelong  Biblioth,  sacree,  2d  part,  p.  44. 

t  St.  Matth.  x  14— -23. 

|  Quod  excussi  sunt  a  facie  Domini  sicut  pnlvis  ille  r.xcus- 
sns  est  a  pedibun.  (Faber  in  Ev.  Matth.  p.  40  ) 

§Faber  stapulensis  et  Gerardus  Rufus,  clam  e  Gallia  pro- 
fecti,  Capitonem  et  Bucerum  audierent.  (Melch.  Adam .  Vita 

aptonis  p.  90) 

||  De  omnibus  doctrinse  prsecipuis  locis  cum  ipsis  disserue. 
rint.  (Ibid.) 

1T  Missi  a  Margaretha  regis  Francisci  sorore.  (Melch.  Ad. 
Vit.  Capitonis,  p.  90.) 

**  Farel  a  tous  ieigneurs,  pcuple  et  pasteur*. 


358 


ERASMUS  ATTACKED  BY  THE  MONKS  AND  THE  SORBONNE. 


bread  together  in  the  supper  of  the  Lord,  according  to 
Christ's  institution,  and  received  touching  proofs  of 
the  love  of  the  brethren.  "  Do  you  recollect,"  said 
Farel  to  Lefevre,  "  an  expression  you  once  let  fall  to 
me,  when  we  were  both  as  yet  in  darkness,  *  William  ! 
God  will  renew  the  world ;  and  you  will  live  to  see  it  /' 
See  here  the  beginning  of  what  yon  then  foretold." 
"  Yes,"  answered  the  pious  old  man  ;  God  is  renew- 
ing the  world.  ...  O,  my  son,  continue  to  preach 
boldly  the  holy  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ."* 

Lefevre,  from  an  excess  of  prudence  doubtless, 
chose  to  remain  incognito  at  Strasburg,  and  took  the 
name  of  Anthony  Peregrinus,  while  Roussel  chose 
that  of  Solnin.  But  the  celebrated  doctor  could  not 
elude  notice  ;  and  soon  the  whole  city,  even  to  the  very 
children,  saluted  him  with  marks  of  respect. t  He  did 
not  dwell  by  himself,  but  lodged  in  the  same  house 
•with  Capito,  Farel,  Roussel,  and  Vedastus  (known 
and  loved  for  his  retiring  diffidence,)  and  a  certain  con- 
verted Jew  named  Simon.  The  houses  of  Capito, 
CEcolampadius,  Zwingle,  and  Luther,  offered  a  kind  of 
open  table  and  lodging.  Such  in  those  days,  was  the 
attraction  of  "  brotherly  love."  Many  Frenchmen  be- 
sides, were  residing  in  this  city  on  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine,  and  there  composed  a  church  in  which  Farel 
often  preached  the  doctrine  of  Salvation.  Such  Chris- 
tian communion  soothed  the  feeling  of  banishment 
from  their  native  land. 

While  these  brethren  were  thus  enjoying  the  asylum 
afforded  them  by  brotherly  love,  those  in  Paris  and 
other  parts  of  France  were  exposed  to  great  danger. 
Bri<jonnet  had  recanted — Lefevre  was  beyond  the  fron- 
tier— all  this  was  something  gained,  but  the  Sorbonne 
was  still  without  those  public  examples  of  punishment 
which  it  had  advised.     Beda  and  his  followers  were 
without  victims.     One  man  there  was  who  gave  them 
more  annoyance  than  either  Bric.onnet  or  Lefevre,  and 
he  was  Louis   Berquin.     The   gentleman  of  Artois, 
more  fearless  than  his  tutors,  allowed  no  opportunity 
to  pass  of  teazing  the  monks  and  theologians,  and  un- 
masking their  fanaticism.     Passing  from  the  capital  to 
the  provinces,  he  would  collect  the  writings  of  Eras- 
mus and  of  Luther.     These  he  would  translate,^  at 
other  times  himself  composing  controversial  tracts,  and 
defending  and  disseminating  the  new  teaching  with  the 
zeal  of  a   young  convert.     Louis   Berquin  was  de 
nounced  by  the  Bishop  of  Amiens,  Beda  seconded  the 
accusation,  and  the  Parliament  committed  him  to  pri- 
son.    "  This  one,"  said  the  enemy,  "  shall  not  escape 
so  easily  as  Bri<jonnetor  Lefevre.     But  their  bolts  and 
bars  had  no  effect  on  Berquin.     In  vain  did  the  supe 
rior  of  the  Carthusians,  and  other  persons,  labour  to 
persuade  him  to  apologise  ;  he  declared  he  would  not 
retract  an  iota.     "  It  seemed  then,"  says  a  chronicler, 
"  that  no  way  remained  but  to  send  him  to  the  slake."§ 
Margaret,  in  consternation  at  what  had  happened  to 
Bric.onnet,  dreaded  to  see  Berquin  dragged  to  that  scaf 
fold  which  the  bishop  had  so  shamefully  eluded.     Noi 
daring  to  visit  him  in  his  prison,  she  endeavoured  to 
convey  a  few  words  of  consolation  to  him — and   he 
may  have  been  upon  her  heart — when  the  princess  com 
posed  that  touching  complaint  in  which  a  prisoner  thu 
addresses  the  Lord : 

O  refuge  free  to  all  who  feel  distress ! 

Their  help  and  stay  !— Judge  of  the  fatherless  ! 

Exhaustless  treasure  of  consoling  grace  ! 

*  Quod  et  pius  senex  fatebatur  ;  meque  hortabaturi  perge 
rem  in  annuntiatione  sacri  Evangelii.  (Farellus  Pellican 
Hotting.  H.  L.  vi.  p.  17.) 

t  Nam  latere  cupiunt  et  tamen  pueris  noti  sunt.  (Capito 
Zwing.  Epp.  p.  439.) 

t  Erasmi  Ep.  p.  923. 

§  Actes  des  Martyrs,  p.  W3. 


The  iron  doors,  the  moat,  the  massive  wall 
Keep  far  from  me, — a  lone,  forgotten  thral! — 
Friend,  kinsman,  brother,— each  familiar  face  : 
Yet  mercy  meets  even  this  extremity  ; 
For  iron  doors  can  never  shut  out  Thee  ! — 
'hou,  Lord  !  art  with  me  here,  here  in  this  dismal  place.* 

But  Margaret  did  not  rest  there,  she  immediately 
wrote  to  her  brother  to  solicit  a  pardon  for  her  atten- 
ant.  Fortunate  might  she  deem  herself  if  her  efforts 

ere  not  too  late  to  rescue  him  from  the  hatred  of  his 
lemies. 

While  awaiting  this  victim,  Beda  resolved  to  strike 
error  into  the  adversaries  of  the  Sorbonne  and  monks, 
y  crushing  the  most  celebrated  man  among  them, 
"rasrnus  had  declared  himself  against  Luther  : — But 
lis  mattered  little  ; — if  the  ruin  of  Erasmus  could  be 
ccomplished,  then  beyond  all  doubt  the  destruction  of 
narel,  of  Luther,  and  their  associates  would  be  sealed, 
'he  surest  way  of  reaching  our  mark  is  to  aim  beyond 
t.  Let  the  ecclesiastical  power  only  set  its  heel  on 
tie  neck  of  the  philosopher  of  Rotterdam,  and  where 
/as  the  heretical  doctor  who  could  hope  to  escape  the 
engeance  of  Rome  ?  The  attack  had  already  been 
ommenced  by  Lecouturier,  better  known  by  his  Latin 
iame  of  Sutor,  who,  from  the  solitude  of  a  Carthusian 
ell,  launched  against  Erasmus  a  publication  of  the 
most  violent  character,  in  which  he  called  his  adversaries, 
heologasters,  and  miserable  apes,  and  charged  them 
with  scandalous  offences,  with  heresy  and  blasphemy, 
landling  subjects  which  he  did  not  understand,  he  re- 
minded his  readers,  as  Erasmus  sarcastically  remarks, 
)f  the  old  proverb :  "  Ne  sutor  ultra  crepidam." 

Beda  hastened  to  the  assistance  of  his  confederate, 
le  ordered  Erasmus  to  write  no  more  ;f  and  himself 

king  up  the  pen,  which  he  had  enjoined  the  greatest 
writer  of  the  age  to  lay  down,  he  made  a  selection  of 
all  the  calumnies  which  the  monks  had  invented  against 
he  philosopher,  translated  them  into  French,  and  form- 
id  them  into  a  book  which  he  circulated  at  court  and 
n  the  city,  in  the  hope  that  all  France  would  join  in 
.he  outcry  he  was  raising.^  This  book  was  the  signal 
"or  a  general  onset ;  the  enemies  of  Erasmus  started 
up  on  every  side.  Nicolas  D'Ecmond,  an  old  Carme- 
ite  of  Louvain  used  to  exclaim,  as  often  as  he  mounted 
the  pulpit,  "  There  is  no  difference  between  Erasmus 
and  Luther,  unless  it  be  that  Erasmus  is  the  greater 
icretic  of  the  two  ;"§ — and  wherever  the  Carmelite 
might  be — at  table  or  on  a  journey,  on  the  land  or  on 
he  water — he  was  raving  against  Erasmus  the  heresi- 
arch  and  forger. ||  The  faculty  of  Paris,  excited  by 
these  clamours,  drew  up  a  decree  of  censure  against 
the  illustrious  writer. 

Erasmus  was  astounded.  Was  this,  then,  the  fruit 
of  all  his  politic  forbearance — was  it  for  this  that  he 
bad  even  engaged  in  hostilities  against  Luther  1  He, 
with  an  intrepidity  which  no  one  else  had  displayed, 
had  flung  himself  into  the  breach — and  was  he  now  to 
be  trampled  down  only  that  the  common  enemy  might 
be  reached  more  safely  over  his  prostrate  body  ?  His 
indignation  is  raised  at  the  thought,  he  turns  sharply 
round,  and  while  yet  warm  from  his  attack  upon  Luther, 
deals  his  retributive  blows  on  the  fanatical  doctors  who 
have  assailed  him  in  the  rear.  Never  was  his  corres- 
pondence more  active  than  now.  He  takes  a  survey  of 
his  position,  and  his  piercing  eye  immediately  discovers 
in  whose  hands  rests  the  balance  of  his  fate.  He  hesi- 
tates not  an  instant ;  he  will  at  once  lay  his  complaint 
and  his  protest  at  the  feet  of  the  Sorbonne,  of  the  Par- 

v  Marguerites  de  la  Marguerite  des  Princesses,  1.  p.  445. 
t  Primum  jnbet  ut  desinam  scribere.    (Erasm.  Epp.  p.  921.) 
\  Ut  totain  Galliam  in  me  concitaret.     (Ibid.  p.  886.) 
^  Nisi  quod  Eiasmus  essot  major  haereticus.    (Ibid,  p.  915.) 
||  Quoties  in  oonviciis,  in  vehiculis,  in  navibus  . . .  (Ibid.) 


MORE  VICTIMS  IN  LORRAINE— BONAVENTURE  RENEL. 


359 


liament,  of  the  king,  of  the  emperor  himself.  "  How 
was  this  fearful  flame  of  Lutheranisrn  kindled  1"  says 
he,  writing  to  those  among  the  divines  of  the  Sorbonne 
in  whose  impartiality  he  still  reposed  some  confidence  : 
"  How  has  it  been  fanned  into  fury,  except  such  out- 
rages as  these  which  Beda  has  committed  1*  In  war, 
a  soldier  who  has  done  his  duty  receives  a  reward 
from  his  generals,  but  the  only  reward  that  you — the 
generals  in  this  war — have  to  bestow  upon  me,  is  to 
deliver  me  up  to  the  calumnies  of  Beda  and  Lecou- 
turier !" 

"  What !"  he  exclaims,  addressing  the  Parliament 
of  Paris,  "  when  I  had  these  Lutherans  on  my  hands 
— when,  under  the  auspices  of  the  emperor,  the  pope, 
and  the  other  princes,  I  was  struggling  against  them, 
even  at  the  peril  of  my  life,  must  I  be  assailed  behind 
my  back  by  the  foul  libels  of  Lecouturier  and  Beda  1 
Ah,  if  evil  fortune  had  not  deprived  us  of  King  Fran- 
cis, I  might  have  appealed  to  that  avenger  of  the  muses 
against  these  insults  of  the  barbarians.!  But  now  it 
rests  with  you  to  restrain  their  malignity." 

No  sooner  did  an  opportunity  present  itself  of  con- 
veying a  letter  to  the  king,  than  he  wrote  to  him  also. 
His  penetrating  glance  detected  in  these  fanatical  doc- 
tors of  the  Sorbonne,  the  germs  of  the  League,  the 
precursors  of  the  three  priests,  who,  at  a  later  period, 
were  to  set  up  the  sixteen  against  the  last  of  the  race 
of  Valois  ;  his  genius  enabled  him  to  warn  the  king  of 
future  crimes  and  miseries  which  the  experience  of  his 
successors  would  but  too  fully  realise.  "  Religion," 
said  he,  "  is  their  pretext,  but  their  true  aim  is  despotic 
power,  to  be  exercised  even  over  princes.  They  are 
moving  onward  with  a  steady  step,  though  their  path 
lies  under  ground.  Should  the  sovereign  not  be  in- 
clined to  submit  himself  in  all  things  to  their  guidance, 
they  will  immediately  declare  that  he  may  be  deposed 
by  the  Church ;  that  is  to  say,  by  a  few  false  monks, 
and  a  few  false  divines  conspiring  together  against  the 
public  peace. "£  Erasmus,  when  writing  to  Francis 
the  First,  could  not  have  touched  a  more  sensitive 
string. 

Finally,  that  he  might  still  more  effectually  secure 
himself  against  the  malice  of  his  enemies,  Erasmus 
invoked  the  protection  of  Charles  the  Fifth  himself 
"  Invincible  Emperor,"  said  he,  "  a  horrible  outcry 
has  been  raised  against  me,  by  men  who,  under  the 
pretence  of  religion,  are  labouring  to  establish  their 
own  tyrannical  power,  and  to  gratify  their  own  sensua" 
appetites. §  I  am  fighting  under  your  banner,  and  un- 
der the  standard  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  by  your  wis- 
dom and  your  authority  that  peace  must  be  restored  to 
the  Christian  world." 

It  was  in  language  like  this  that  the  prince  of  liter- 
ature addressed  himself  to  the  rulers  of  the  age.  The 
danger  which  impended  over  his  head  was  averted 
the  secular  power  interposed,  and  the  vultures  were 
compelled  to  abandon  the  prey  which  in  fancy  the) 
had  already  clutched.  They  then  turned  their  eyes 
elsewhere,  in  search  of  other  victims,  and  they  were 
soon  found. 

It  was  in  Lorraine  first  that  blood  was  appointed  t< 
flow  afresh.  From  the  earliest  days  of  the  Reforma 
tion,  there  had  been  an  alliance  in  fanaticism  between 
Paris  and  the  country  of  the  Guises.  If  Paris  wa 

*  Hoc  gravissimum  Lutheri  incendium,  unde  natura,  unde 
hue  progressum,  nisi  exBeddaices  intemperiis.  (Erasm.  Epp 
p.  8870 

t  Musarum  vindicem  adversus  barbarorum  iucursienes. — 
(Ibid,  -2010.) 

\  Nisi  prineeps  ipsorum  voluntati  per  omnia  paruerit  dice 
tur  fautor  hcereticorum  et  destitui  poterit  per  ecclesiam.  (Er 
Epp.  pi  103) 

(}  Simulate  rel'gionis  praetextu,  ventris  tyrannidisque  suac 
ncgotiuni  agentes.  (Ibid.  p.  962.) 


t  peace  for  a  while,  Lorraine  took  up  the  work,  and 
hen  Paris  began  again,  to  give  time  for  Nancy  and 
rtetz  to  recruit  their  strength.  The  first  blow,  appa- 
ently,  was  destined  to  fall  upon  an  excellent  man,  one 
if  the  refugees  of  Basle,  a  friend  of  Farel,  and  Tou- 
ssaint.  The  Chevalier  d'Esch,  while  residing  at 
Ktctz,  had  not  been  able  to  screen  himself  from  the 
suspicions  of  the  priests.  It  was  ascertained  that  he 
:arried  on  a  correspondence  with  Christians  of  the 
Svangelic  faith,  and,  on  that  discovery,  he  was  thrown 
nto  prison  at  Pont-a-Mousson,  a  place  situated  five 
miles  from  Metz,  on  the  banks  of  the  Moselle.*  The 
idings  filled  the  French  refugees,  and  the  Swiss  them- 
selves, with  the  deepest  concern.  "  Alas !  for  that 
nnocent  heart !"  exclaimed  CEcolampadius.  "  I  have 
ull  confidence  in  the  Lord,"  added  he,  "  that  He  will 
reserve  this  man  to  us,  either  in  life,  as  a  preacher  of 
ighteousness,  to  make  known  His  name,  or  in  death, 
,o  confess  him  as  a  martyr. "f  But  at  the  same  time 
CEcolampadius  censured  the  thoughtlessness,  the  pre- 
cipitancy, and  what  he  termed  the  imprudent  zeal,  for 
which  the  French  refugees  were  distinguished.  "I 
wish,"  said  he,  "  that  my  dear  friends,  the  worthy  gen- 
tlemen of  France,  would  not  be  so  eager  to  return  to 
their  own  country  until  they  have  made  all  due  in- 
quiries beforehand  ;  for  the  devil  lays  his  snares  eve- 
rywhere. Nevertheless,  let  them  obey  the  Spirit  of 
Christ,  and  may  that  Spirit  never  forsake  them."t 

There  was  reason,  indeed,  to  tremble  for  the  fate 
of  the  chevalier.  The  rancour  of  tho  enemy  had 
broken  out  in  Lorraine  with  redoubled  fury.  Brother 
Bonaventure  Renel,  the  principal  of  the  Cordeliers, 
and  the  confessor  of  Duke  Anthony  the  Good,  a  man 
of  an  audacious  temper,  and  of  very  questionable  moral 
character,  allowed  that  weak  prince,  who  reigned  from 
1508  to  1544,  a  large  measure  of  license  in  his  plea- 
sures ;  and  persuaded  him  on  the  other  hand,  by  way 
of  atonement,  as  it  were,  to  exercise  a  merciless  seve- 
rity against  all  innovators.  "  It  is  quite  sufficient  for 
any  one,"  said  the  prince,  profiting  by  the  able  instruc- 
tions of  Reriel,  "  if  he  can  repeat  the  Pater  and  the 
Ave- Maria.  The  greatest  doctors  are  those  who  oc- 
casion the  greatest  disorders. ''$ 

Toward  the  end  of  the  year  1524,  information  was 
conveyed  to  the  duke's  court  that  a  pastor,  named 
Schuch,  was  preaching  a  new  kind  of  doctrine  in  tho 
town  of  St.  Hippolyte,  at  the  foot  of  the  Vosages.  "  Let 
them  return  to  their  duty,"  said  Anthony  the  Good,  "  or 
I  will  march  against  the  town,  and  lay  it  waste  with  fire 
and  sword."|| 

Hereupon  the  faithful  pastor  resolved  to  devote  him- 
self for  his  flock :  he  repaired  to  Nancy,  where  the 
prince 'resided.  Immediately  on  his  arrival,  he  was 
lodged  in  a  noisome  prison,  under  the  custody  of  bru- 
tal and  cruel  men.  And  now,  at  last,  Brother  Bona- 
venture had  the  heretic  in  his  power.  It  was  he  who 
presided  at  the  tribunal  before  which  he  was  exam- 
ined. "  Heretic  !"  cried  he,  addressing  the  prisoner, 
"  Judas  !  Devil !"  Schuch,  preserving  the  utmost 
tranquillity  and  composure,  made  no  reply  to  these 
insults  ;  but  holding  in  his  hand  a  little  Bible,  all  co- 
vered with  notes  which  he  had  written  in  it,  he 
meekly  and  earnestly  confessed  Jesus  Christ  and  him 
crucified  !  On  a  sudden  he  assumed  a  more  animated 
tnein — stood  up  boldly,  raised  his  voice  as  if  moved 
by  the  Spirit  from  on  high — and  looking  his  judges  in 

*  Noster  captas  detinetur  in  Bundamosa  quinque  millibus  a 
Metis.  ((Ecol.  Farello  Epp.  p.  201.) 

t  Vel  vivum  confessorem,  vel  mortuum  martyrem  servabit. 
(Ibid) 

\  Nollem  carissimos  dominos  meos  Gallos  properare  in  Gal- 
liam.  (Ibid.) 

^  Actes  des  Martyrs,  p.  97. 

|i  Actes  des  Martyrs,  p.  95. 


360         MARTYRDOM  OF  SCHUCH— THE  MARTYRDOM  OF  JAMES  PAVANNE. 


the  face  denounced  against  them  the  fearful  judgments 
of  God. 

Brother  Bonaventure  and  his  companions,  inwardly 
appalled,  yet  agitated  with  rage,  rushed  upon  him  at 
once  with  vehement  cries,  snatched  away  the  Bible, 
from  which  he  read  those  menacing  words,  and  "  rag- 
ing like  so  many  mad  dogs,"  says  the  chronicler,  "  be- 
cause they  could  not  wreak  their  fury  on  the  doctrine, 
carried  the  book  to  their  convent,  and  burnt  it  there."* 

The  whole  court  of  Lorraine  resounded  with  the  ob- 
stinacy and  presumption  of  the  minister  of  St.  Hippo- 
iyte  ;  and  the  prince,  impelled  by  curiosity  to  hear  the 
heretic,  resolved  to  be  present  at  his  final  examination 
— secretly,  however,  and  concealed  from  the  view  of 
the  spectators.  But  as  the  interrogatory  was  con- 
ducted in  Latin,  he  could  not  understand  ft ;  only  he 
was  struck  with  the  stcdfast  aspect  of  the  minister, 
who  seemed  to  be  neither  vanquished  nor  abashed. 
Indignant  at  this  obstinacy,  Anthony  the  Good  started 
from  his  seat,  and  said  as  he  retired — "  Why  dispute 
any  longer  1  He  denies  the  sacrament  of  the  mass  ; 
let  them  proceed  to  execution  against  him."t  Schuch 
was  immediately  condemned  to  be  burnt  alive.  When 
the  sentence  was  communicated  to  him,  he  lifted  up 
his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  mildly  made  answer  :  "  I  was 
glad  when  they  said  unto  me,  Let  us  go  into  the  house 
of  the  Lord."}: 

On  the  19th  of  August,  1525,  the  whole  city  of 
Nancy  was  in  motion.  The  bells  gave  notice  of  the 
deaih  of  a  heretic.  The  mournful  procession  set  out. 
It  must  pass  before  the  convent  of  the  Cordeliers,  and 
there  the  whole  fraternity  were  gathered  in  joyful  ex- 
pectation before  the  door.  As  soon  as  Schuch  made 
his  appearance,  Father  Bonaventure,  pointing  to  the 
carved  images  over  the  convent  gateway,  cried  out. 
"  Heretic,  pay  honour  to  God,  his  mother,  and  the 
saints  !"  "  O  hypocrites  !"  replied  Schuch,  standing 
erect  before  those  pieces  of  wood  and  stone,  "  God 
will  destroy  you,  and  bring  your  deceits  to  light!" 

When  the  martyr  reached  the  place  of  execution  his 
books  were  first  burnt  in  his  presence,  and  then  he 
was  called  upon  to  recant ;  but  he  refused,  saying, 
"  Thou,  God,  hast  called  me,  and  thou  wilt  strengthen 
me  to  the  end  ;"$  and  immediately  he  began  with  a 
loud  voice  to  repeat  the  51st  Psalm,  "  Have  mercy 
upon  me,  0  God  !  according  to  thy  loving-kindness  !" 
Having  mounted  the  pile,  he  continued  to  recite  the 
psalm  until  the  smoke  and  flames  stifled  his  voice. 

Thus  did  the  persecutors  in  France  and  Lor- 
raine-behold a  renewal  of  their  triumphs — their  coun- 
sels had  at  length  been  followed.  At  Nancy  the  ashes 
of  a  heretic  had  been  scattered  to  the  winds  :  this 
seemed  a  challenge  addressed  to  the  capital  of 
France.  What !  should  Beda  and  Lecouturier  be  the 
last  to  show  their  zeal  for  the  pope  1  Rather  let  one 
blazing  pile  serve  as  the  signal  for  another,  and  heresy 
swept  from  the  soil  of  France,  would  soon  be  driven 
back  beyond  the  Rhine. 

But  Beda  was  not  to  pursue  his  successful  career, 
until  a  contest,  half  serious,  half  ludicrous,  had  taken 
place  between  him  and  one  of  those  men  with  whom 
the  struggle  against  Popery  was  only  a  capricious  ef- 
fort of  the  intellect,  not  the  solemn  engagement  and 
willing  duty  of  the  heart. 

Among  the  learned  men  whom  Brigonnet  had  allured 
to  his  diocess  was  a  doctor  of  the  Sorbonne,  named 
Peter  Caroli,  a  man  of  a  vain  and  frivolous  cast  of  mind, 
and  as  quarrelsome  and  litigious  as  Beda  himself. 

*  Actes  d«-s  Martyrs,  rectieillis  par  Crespin,  en  fr.  p.  97. 
t  Histoire  de  Francois  ler,  par  Gaillard,  iv.  p.  233. 
t  Psalm  cxxii.  I. 

$  Eum  anctorem  vocationis  sue  atque  conservatoretn  ad  ex- 
tremum  usbue  spiritum  recognovit.  (Acta  Mart.  p.  203.) 


Caroli  viewed  the  new  doctrine  as  the  means  of  mak- 
ng  an  impression  and  of  thwarting  Beda,  whose  as- 
cendency he  could  not  endure.  Accordingly  on  his 
return  from  Meaux  to  Paris  he  caused  a  great  sensa- 
tion, by  introducing  into  every  pulpit  what  was  called 
"  the  new  way  of  preaching."  Then  began  a  pernici- 
ous strife  between  the  two  doctors ;  it  was  blow  for 
for  blow  and  trick  for  trick.  Beda  cites  Caroli  before 
the  Sorbonne,  and  Caroli  summons  him  before  the 
episcopal  court  to  answer  for  an  .infringement  of  pri- 
vilege. The  Sorbonne  proceeds  with  the  inquiry,  and 
Caroli  gives  intimation  of  an  appeal  to  the  Parliament. 
A  provisional  sentence  excludes  him  from  the  pulpit, 
and  still  he  goes  on  preaching  in  all  the  churches  of 
Paris.  Being  absolutely  forbidden  to  preach  in  any 
pulpit,  he  takes  to  publicly  expounding  the  Psalms  in 
the  college  of  Cambray.  The  Sorbonne  prohibits  him 
from  continuing  that  practice,  but  he  asks  permission 
to  conclude  the  exposition  of  the  22d  Psalm  which  he 
has  begun.  Finally,  on  this  petition  being  rejected, 
he  posts  the  following  placard  on  the  college-gates  : — 
Peter  Caroli,  being  desirous  to  obey  the  injunctions  of 
the  sacred  faculty,  has  ceased  to  teach  ;  he  will  resume 
his  lectures,  whenever  it  shall  please  God,  at  the  verse 
where  he  left  off:  '  THEY  HAVE  PIERCED  MV  HANDS 
AND  MV  PEET.'  "  Thus  had  Beda  at  length  found  an 
opponent  with  whom  he  was  fairly  matched.  If 
Caroli  had  defended  the  truth  in  right  earnest,  the 
stake  would  have  been  his  reward  ;  but  he  was  of  too 
carnal  a  spirit  to  expose  himself  to  the  risk  of  death. 
How  could  capital  punishment  be  inflicted  on  a  man 
who  laughed  his  judges  out  of  countenance  1  Neither 
the  episcopal  court,  nor  the  parliament,  nor  the  coun- 
cil could  ever  proceed  to  a  definite  judgment  in  his 
cause.  Two  such  men  as  Caroli  would  have  wearied 
out  the  activity  of  Beda  himself — but  two  like  him  the 
Reformation  did  not  produce.* 

This  troublesome  contest  concluded,  Beda  applied 
himself  to  matters  of  more  serious  concern.  Happily 
for  the  syndic  of  the  Sorbonne,  there  were  men  who 
gave  persecution  a  better  hold  of  them  than  Caroli. 
Brigonnet,  indeed,  and  Erasmus,  and  Lefevre,  and 
Berquin  had  escaped  him ;  but  since  he  cannot  reach 
these  distinguished  personages,  he  will  content  him- 
self with  meaner  victims.  The  poor  youth,  James 
Pavanne,  ever  since  his  adjuration  at  Christmas,  1524, 
had  done  nothing  but  weep  and  sigh.  He  was  con- 
stantly seen  with  a  gloomy  brow,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ground,  groaning  inwardly,  and  muttering  reproaches 
against  himself  for  having  denied  his  Lord  and  Sa- 
viour, f 

Pavanne  undoubtedly  was  the  most  retiring  and  the 
most  inoffensive  of  men ;  but  what  of  that  ]  he  had 
been  at  Meaux,  and  this,  in  those  days  was  sufficient. 
"'Pavanne  has  relapsed  !"  was  the  cry  :  "  the  dog  has 
returned  to  his  vomit,  and  the  swine  that  was  washed 
to  his  wallowing  in  the  mire."  He  was  seized  imme- 
diately, cast  into  prison,  and  after  a  while  brought  be- 
fore the  judges.  This  was  all  that  young  Pavanne 
desired.  He  felt  his  mind  relieved  as  soon  as  the 
fetters  were  fastened  on  his  limbs,  and  recovered  all  his 
energy  in  the  open  confession  of  Jesus  Christ  !J  The 
persecutors  smiled  when  they  saw  that  this  time  no- 
thing could  disappoint  them  of  their  victim,  no  rccan- 
tion,  no  flight,  no  intervention  of  a  powerful  protec- 
tion. The  meekness  of  the  youth,  his  candour,  his 
courage,  were  altogether  unavailing  to  appease  the 

*  Gerdesius,  Historia  saeculi  xvi.  renovati  p.  52.  D'Argen- 
tre,  Collectio  Judiciorum  de  npvis  erroribus  ii.  p.  21.— Gail- 
lard,  Hist,  de  Francois  I.  torn.  iv.  p.  233. 

f  Animi  factum  suum  detestantis  dolorem,  ssepe  declaraverit. 
(Acta  Mart.  p.  203.) 

t  Pnram  religionis  Christiana  confessionem  addit.  (Ibid, 
p.  203.) 


THE  HERMIT  OF  LIVRY  CONDEMNED— RESOURCES  OF  PROVIDENCE.        361 


maiice  of  his  enemies.  He,  on  the  contrary,  looked 
on  them  with  affection — for  by  loading  him  with  chains, 
they  had  restored  his  peace  of  mind  and  his  joy — but 
that  benevolent  look  of  his  only  hardened  their  hearts 
the  more.  The  proceedings  against  him  were  con- 
ducted with  all  despatch,  and  a  very  short  time  had  elaps- 
ed before  a  pile  was  erected  in  the  Place  de  Greve, 
on  which  Pavanne  made  a  joyful  end — strengthening 
by  his  example  all  who  in  that  great  city  had  openly  or 
secretly  embraced  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 

But  this  was  not  enough  for  the  Sorbonne.  If  men 
of  mean  condition  only  are  to  be  sacrificed,  their  num- 
ber at  least  must  make  amends  for  their  want  of  rank. 
The  flames  in  the  Place  deGrdvc  have  struck  terror  into 
Paris  and  into  the  whole  of  France  ;  but  another  pile, 
kindled  on  some  other  spot,  will  redoubt)  that  terror. 
It  will  be  the  subject  of  conversation  at  the  court,  in 
the  colleges,  in  the  workshop  of  the  artisan  ;  and 
tokens  like  these,  better  than  all  the  edicts  that  can  be 
issued,  will  prove  that  Louisa  of  Savoy,  the  Sorbonne, 
and  the  parliament,  are  determined  to  sacrifice  the 
very  last  heretic  to  the  anathemas  of  Rome. 

In  the  forest  of  Livry,  three  leagues  distant  from 
Paris,  and  not  far  from  the  sight  of  an  ancient  abbey 
of  the  order  of  St.  Augustin,  lived  a  hermU,  who, 
having  chanced  in  his  wanderings  to  fall  in  with  some 
of  the  men  of  Meaux,  had  received  the  truth  of  the 
Gospel  into  his  heart.*  The  poor  hermit  had  felt  him- 
self rich  indeed  that  day  in  his  solitary  retreat,  when, 
along  with  the  scanty  dole  of  bread  which  public  cha- 
rity had  afforded  him,  he  brought  home  Jesus  Christ 
and  his  grace.  He  understood  from  that  time  how 
much  better  it  is  to  give  than  to  receive.  He  went 
from  cottage  to  cottage  in  the  villages  around,  and  as 
soon  as  he  crossed  the  threshold,  began  to  speak  to  the 
poor  peasants  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  free  pardon  which 
it  offers  to  every  burthened  soul,  a  pardon,  infinitely 
more  precious  than  any  priestly  absolution. t  The 
good  hermit  of  Livry,  wes  soon  widely  known  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Paris  ;  many  came  to  visit  him  at 
his  poor  hermitage,  and  he  discharged  the  office  of  a 
kind  and  faithful  missionary  to  the  simple-minded  in 
all  the  adjacent  districts. 

It  was  not  long  before  intelligence  of  what  was  do- 
ing by  the  new  evangelist  r  ched  the  ears  of  the  Sor- 
bonne, and  the  magistrates  of  Paris.  The  hermit  was 
seized,  dragged  from  his  hermitage,  from  his  forest, 
from  the  fields  he  had  daily  traversed,  thrown  into  a 
dungeon  in  that  great  city  which  he  had  always  shun- 
ned, brought  to  judgment,  convicted,  and  sentenced  to 
"  the  exemplary  punishment  of  being  burnt  by  a  slow 
fire."}: 

In  order  to  render  the  example  the  more  striking,  it 
was_ determined  that  he  should  be  burnt  in  the  close 
of  Notre  Dame ;  before  that  celebrated  cathedral,  which 
typifies  the  majesty  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church. 
The  whole  of  the  clergy  were  convened,  and  a  degree 
of  pomp  was  displayed  equal  to  that  of  the  most 
solemn  festivals.^  A  desire  was  shown  to  attract  all 
Paris,  if  possible,  to  the  place  of  execution.  "  The 
groat  bell  of  the  church  of  Notre  Dame  swinging  hea- 
vily," says  an  historian,  "to  rouse  the  people  all  over 
Paris."  And  accordingly  from  every  surrounding 
avenue,  the  people  came  flocking  to  the  spot.  The 
deep-toned  reverberations  of  the  bell  made  the  work- 

*  Cette  semence  tie  Faber  et  de  scs  disciples,  prise  an  gronier 
Ae  Luther,  germa  dans  le  sot  esprit  d'un  ertnite  qui  se  tcnait 
pros  la  ville  de  Paris.  (Hist.  Oatholique  de  notre  temps  par 
S.  Fontaine,  Paris,  1562.) 

t  Lequel  par  IP?  villages  qxTil  frequentait,  sous  couleur  de 
faire  ses  quotes,  ten  ait  propos  heretiques.  (Hist.  Catholique 
de  notre  temps  par  S.  Fontaine,  Paris,  1562.) 

t  Histoire  catholique  de  notre  temps,  par  Fontaine. 

^  Avec  une  grande  ceremonie.  (Histoire  des  Egl.  Ref.  par 
Theod.  de  Beze.  i.  p.  4.) 

Ww 


man  quit  his  task,  the  student  cast  aside  his  books,  the 
shop-keeper  forsake  his  traffic,  the  soldier  start  from 
the  guard-room  bench — and  already  the  close  was 
filled  with  a  dense  crowd,  which  was  continually  in- 
creasing.* The  hermit  attired  aiihe  robes  appropria- 
ted to  obstinate  heretics,  bareheaded,  and  with  bare 
feet,  was  led  out  before  the  doors  of  the  cathedral. 
Traquil,  firm,  and  collected,  he  replied  to  the  exhorta- 
tions of  the  confessors,  who  presented  him  with  the 
crucifix,  only  by  declaring:  that  his  hope  rested  solely 
on  the  mercy  of  God.  The  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne, 
who  stood  in  the  front  rank  of  the  spectators,  observ- 
'ug  his  constancy,  and  the  effect  it  produced  upon  the 
people,  cried  aloud — "  He  is  a  man  foredoomed  to  the 
fires  of  hell."t  The  clang  of  the  great  bell,  which  all 
this  while  was  rung  with  a  rolling  stroke,  while  it  stun- 
ned the  ears  of  the  multitude,  served  to  heighten  the 
solemnity  of  that  mournful  spectacle.  At  length  the 
bell  was  silent,  and  the  martyr  having  answered  tho 
last  interrogatory  of  his  adversaries  by  saying  that  he 
was  resolved  to  die  in  the  faith  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  underwent  his  sentence  of  being  "  burnt  by  a 
slow  fire  "  And  so,  in  the  cathedral  close  of  Notre 
Dame,  beneath  the  stately  towers  erected  by  the  piety 
of  Louis  the  younger,  amid  the  cries  and  tumultuous 
excitement  of  a  vast  population,  died  peaceably,  a  man 
whose  name  history  has  not  deigned  to  transmit  to  us, 
"  the  hermit  of  Livry." 

While  men  were  thus  engaged  in  destroying  the 
first  confessors  of  Jesus  Christ  in  France,  Cfod  was 
raising  up  others  gifted  with  ampler  powers  for  his 
service.  A  modest  student — a  humble  hermit — might 
be  dragged  to  the  stake,  and  Beda  might  almost  per- 
suade himself  that  the  doctrine  they  proclaimed  would 
perish  with  them.  But  Providence  has  resources 
which  the  world  knows  not  of.  The  Gospel,  like  the 
fabled  bird  of- antiquity,  contains  within  itself  a  prin- 
ciple of  life  which  the  flames  can  never  reach,  and 
from  the  ashes  in  which  it  seemed  to  lie  extinguished, 
it  springs  afresh,  pure  and  vigorous  as  ever.  Often, 
when  the  storm  is  at  its  height,  when  the  fiery  bolt  of 
persecution  appears  to  have  laid  the  truth  pros- 
trate, and  enduring,  impenetrable  darkness,  to  have 
closed  over  it, — even  at  that  moment  there  comes  a 
gleam  of  light,  and  announces  a  great  deliverance  at 
hand.  So,  when  all  earthly  powers  were  leagued  to- 
gether in  France  to  effect  the  ruin  of  the  Reformation, 
God  was  preparing  an  instrument,  apparently  feeble, 
to  maintain  His  rights  at  a  future  day,  and  with  more 
than  human  intrepidity  to  defend  His  cause.  Avert- 
ing our  eyes  from  the  persecutions  and  cruelties  which 
have  succeeded  each  other  so  rapidly  since  Francis  I. 
became  the  prisoner  of  Charles, — let  us  turn  them  on 
a  child  who  shall  hereafter  be  called  forth  to  take  his 
station  as  a  leader  of  a  mighty  host  in  the  holy  war- 
fare of  Israel. 

Among  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  and  university  of 
Paris  who  listened  to  the  sound  of  the  great  bell,  was 
a  young  scholar  of  sixteen,  a  native  of  Noyon,  in  Pic- 
ardy,  of  middle  stature,^  and  pale,  and  somewhat  dark 
complexion,  whose  powerful  and  sagacious  mind  wa» 
indicated  by  the  keenness  and  peculiar  brightness  of 
his  eye,  and  the  animated  3xpression  of  his  counte- 
nance. His  dress,  which  wis  extremely  neat,  but  per- 
fectly unostentatious,  corresponded  to  the  modesty 
and  decorum  of  his  character.^  This  young  man, 
whose  name  was  John  Cauviti  or  Calvin,  was  a  stu- 

*  Histoire  des  Egl.  Ref.  par  Tht  od.  de  Beze,  i.  p.  4, 

tlbid. 

t  Statura  fuit  mediocri,  colore  sub  pallido  et  nigricanie, 
oculis  ad  mortem  usque  limpidis,  t  uique  ingeriii  sagacitatem 
testarentur.  (Bezce  Vita  Calvini.) 

§  Cultu  corporis  neque  cullo  neque  sordido  sed  qui  singu 
larem  modestiam  deccret.  (IbicL) 


362 


JOHN  CALVIN  AT  THE  UNIVERSITY— THE  FAMILY  OF  MOMMOR. 


dent  at  the  college  of  La  Marche,  of  which  Mathurin 
Cordier,  a  man  celebrated  for  his  integrity,  learning, 
and  peculiar  skill  in  the  instruction  of  youth,  was  at 
that  time  ihe  regent.  Educated  in  all  the  supersti- 
tions of  popery,  the  student  of  Noyon  was  blindly 
submissive  to  the  Church,  dutifully  observant  of  all 
the  practices  she  enjoined,*  and  fully  persuaded  that 
heretics  well  deserved  the  flames  to  which  they  were 
delivered.  The  blood  which  was  then  flowing  in 
Paris  was,  in  his  eyes,  an  additional  aggravation  of 
the  critne  of  heresy.  But  although,  by  natural  dispo- 
sition timid,  and,  to  use  his  own  words,  soft  and  pusil- 
lanimous,? he  was  endowed  with  that  uprightness  of 
mind,  and  that  generosity  of  heart  which  induce  men 
to  sacrifice  everything  to  the  convictions  of  their  con- 
science. Vainly,  therefore,  were  those  appaling  spec- 
tacles presented  to  him  in  his  youth  ;  vain  was  the 
example  of  the  murderous  flames  kindled  in  the  Place 
de  Grdve  and  in  the  close  of  Notre  Dame,  foi  the 
destruction  of  the  faithful  followers  of  the  Gospel. 
The  remembrance  of  such  horrors  could  not,  after- 
ward, deter  him  from  entering  on  that  "  new  way," 
which  seemed  to  lead  only  to  the  dungeon  and  the 
scaffold.  In  other  respects  the  character  of  the 
youthful  Calvin  afforded  indications  of  what  he  was 
hereafter  to  become.  The  austerity  of  his  morals  was 
the  precursor  of  equal  austerity  in  his  doctrine,  and 
the  scholar  of  sixteen  already  gave  promise  of  a  man 
who  would  take  up  in  earnest  all  that  should  be  im- 
parted to  him,  and  would  rigidly  exact  from  others 
what,  in  his  own  case,  he  felt  it  so  much  a  matter  of 
course  to  perform.  Silent  and  grave  while  attending 
on  the  college  lectures,  taking  no  pleasure  in  the  sports 
and  idle  frolics  which  others  pursued  during  the  hours 
of  recreation — shrinking  in  disgust  from  all  partici- 
pation in  vice,!  he  sometimes  censured  the  disorders 
of  his  fellow-pupils  with  severity — with  a  measure, 
even  of  acrimony. §  Accordingly,  a  canon  of  Noyon 
assures  us  that  his  companions  had  surnamed  him  the 
"  accusative. "II  He  stood  among  them  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  conscience  and  duty, — so  far  was  he  from 
being  in  reality  what  some  calumniators  endeavoured 
to  make  him.  The  pale  aspect,  the  piercing  eye  of  a 
student  of  sixteen,  already  inspired  his  associates  with 
more  respect  than  the  black  gowns  of  their  masters  ; 
and  this  boy  from  Picardy,  low  in  stature,  and  timid 
in  demeanour,  who  came  day  by  day  to  take  his  seat 
on  the  benches  of  the  college  of  La  Marche,  was,  even 
then,  by  the  seriousness  of  his  conversation  and  sobriety 
of  his  life  unconsciously  discharging  the  office  of  a 
minister  and  a  Reformer. 

Nor  was  it  in  these  particulars  alone  that  the  strip- 
ling of  Noyon  evinced  his  superiority  to  his  compeers. 
His  extreme  timidity  sometimes  restrained  him  from 
manifesting  the  antipathy  he  felt  to  vanity  and  to  vice  ; 
but,  in  his  studies  he  was  already  exerting  all  the 
force  of  his  genius,  and  all  the  intensity  of  his  will, — 
and  any  one  who  observed  him  might  have  predicted 
that  his  life  would  be  consumed  in  labour.  The  facil- 
ity of  his  comprehension  was  wonderful — while  his 
class-fellows  were  advancing  by  painful  steps,  he  was 
bounding  lightly  over  the  course — and  the  knowledge 
which  others  were  long  in  acquiring  superficially,  was 
instantaneously  seized  by  his  youthful  genius,  and  per- 

*  Primo  quidem  quum  superstitionibus  Papatus  magis  perti- 
packer  addictus  essem.  (Calv.  Prsef.  ad  Psalm ) 

t  Ego  qui  natura  timido,  raolli  et  pusillo  animo  me  essc 
fateor.  (Ibid.) 

J  Summam  in  moribus  affectabat  gravitatem  et  pauconim 
hominum  consuetudine  utebatur.  (Roemundi  Hist.  Hseres. 
vii.  10.) 

fc  Severus  omnium  in  suis  sodalibus  censor.  (Bezos  Vita 
Calv.) 

||  Annalea  de  PEglise  do  Noyon  par  Levasscus,  Chanoiue, 

p.  1153. 


manently  impressed  on  his  memory.  His  masters,  there- 
fore, were  obliged  to  withdraw  him  from  the  ranks,  and 
introduce  him  singly  to  the  higher  branches  of  learning.* 

Among  his  fellow-students  were  the  young  men  of 
the  family  of  Mommor,  a  house  reckoned  among  the 
first  nobility  of  Picardy.  John  Calvin  was  intimately 
connected  with  these  young  noblemen,  especially  with 
Claude,  who  at  a  later  period  was  abbot  of  St.  Eloi, 
and  to  whom  he  dedicated  his  Commentary  on  Seneca. 
It  was  in  their  company  that  he  had  come  to  Paris. 
His  father,  Gerard  Calvin,  notary  apostolic,  and  pro- 
curator-fiscal of  the  county  of  Noyon,  secretary  of  the 
diocess,  and  proctor  of  the  chapter,^  was  a  man  of 
judgment  and  ability,  whose  talents  had  raised  him  to 
offices  which  were  sought  after  by  the  best  families  ; 
and  all  the  noblesse  of  the  province,  but  particularly 
the  illustrious  family  of  Mornmor,  entertained  the  high- 
est esteem  for  him.t  Gerard,  who  resided  at  NoyonQ, 
had  married  a  young  woman  from  Cambray,  named 
Jane  Lefranq,  remarkable  for  her  beauty,  and  worthy 
of  esteem  for  her  humble  piety,  by  whom  he  had  al- 
ready had  a  son  called  Charles,  when  on  the  10th  of 
July,  1509,  she  gave  birth  to  second  son,  who  received 
the  name  of  John,  and  was  baptised  in  the  church  of 
St.  Godebert.ll  A  third  son,  named  Anthony,  who 
died  your;g,  and  two  daughters,  made  up  the  entire 
family  of  the  procurator-fiscal  of  Noyon. 

Gerard  Calvin,  living  in  habits  of  familiar  intercourse 
with  the  ecclesiastical  dignitaries  and  chief  men  of  the 
province,  was  desirous  that  his  children  should  receive 
the  same  education  as  those  of  the  highest  rank.  John, 
in  whom  he  had  perceived  an  early  development  of 
talent,  was  brought  up  with  the  children  of  the  family 
of  Mommor ;  he  lived  in  the  house  as  one  of  them- 
selves, and  shared  in  the  lessons  of  the  young  Claude. 
The  effect  of  early  discipline  and  culture  in  such  a  fa- 
mily was  to  impart  to  his  intellectual  character  a  degree 
of  refinement  which  otherwise  it  could  scarcely  have 
acquired. 1T  He  was  afterward  sent  to  the  college  of 
Capettes,  an  establishment  within  the  city  Noyon.** 
The  child  had  but  few  recreations.  That  severity, 
which  was  one  feature  in  the  character  of  the  son,  found 
a  place  likewise  in  the  temperament  of  the  father.  Ge- 
rard brought  him  up  rigidly — from  his  earliest  years  he 
was  obliged  to  bend  to  the  inflexible  rule  of  duty — 
which  after  a  little  while  became  habitual  to  him,  and 

*  Exculto  ipsius  ingenio  quod  ei  jam  turn  erat  acerrimum, 
ita  profecit  ut  creteris  sodalibus  in  grammatices  curriculo  re- 
lictis  ad  dialecticos  et  aliarum  quas  vocant  artium  studium 
promoveretur.  (Beza.) 

t  Levasseur,  docteur  de  la  Sorbonne,  annales  de  PEglise 
Cathedrale  de  Noyon,  p.  1151.  Drelincourt,  Defense  de  Cal- 
vin, p.  l'J3. 

t  Erat  is  Gerardus  non  parvi  judicii  et  consilii  homo,  ibeoquo 
nobilibus  ejus  regionis  plerisquo  carus.  (Beza.) 

^  On  the  spot  where  now  stands  a  house,  distinguished  by 
the  sign  of  tne  Stag."  (Desinay,  Doct.  de  la  Sorbonne.  Vit. 
de  Jean  Calvin,  heresiarque,  p.  30.  Levasseur,  Ann.  de  Noy- 
on, p.  1157.) 

||  The  calumnious  and  extravagant  tales  which  have  been 
circulated  in  regard  to  the  person  of  Calvin,  may  be  traced 
to  a  very  early  origin.  J.  Levasseur,  who  was  afterward 
dean  of  the  chapter  of  Noyon,  relates  that  when  his  mother 
brought  him  into  the  world,  the  birth  of  the  child  was  pre- 
cedad  by  the  preturnatural  appearance  of  a  swarm  of  large 
flies, — "  a  sure  presage  that  he  would  be  an  evil  speaker  and 
slanderer."  (Annales  de  la  Cathedrale  de  Noyon,  p.  115.) 
These  absurdities  and  others  of  the  same  stamp,  which  have 
been  invented  to  the  prejudice  of  the  Reformer  may  be  safely 
left  to  refute  themselves  without  any  effort  on  our  part.  In 
our  own  day,  those  among  the  Romish  doctors  who  are  not 
ashamed  to  employ  the  weapons  of  calumny,  make  a  selection 
of  these  coarpe  and  ridiculous  stories,  not  daring  to  repeat 
them  all  ;  yet  they  are  all  of  equal  value. 

1T  Domi  vestrae  puer  educatus,  iisdem  tecum  studiis  initiatus 
primam  vjtae  et  literarum  diHciplinam  familise  vestras  nobilis- 
fiinise  acceptam  refcro.  (Calv.  Prasf.  in  Scnecam  ad  Clau- 
dium.) 

**  Desmay,  Beraarques,  p.  31.  (Drelincourt,  Defense,  p. 
158.) 


INFANT  ECCLESIASTICS— CALVIN  PROCEEDS  TO  PARIS. 


36-3 


thus  the  influence  of  the  father  counteracted  that  of  the 
family  of  Mommor.  Timid  by  nature,  with  something, 
as  he  tells  us  himself,  of  rustic  bashfulness  in  his  dis- 
position,* and  rendered  still  more  diffident  by  his 
father's  severity,  John  would  often  escape  from  the 
splendid  mansion  of  his  protectors,  to  bury  himself  in 
in  solitude  and  obscurity.!  In  hours  of  seclusion  like 
this,  his  youthful  spirit  grew  familiar  with  lofty  con- 
ceptions. It  appears  that  he  sometimes  went  to  the 
neighbouring  village  of  Pont  1'Eve'que,  where  his 
grandfather  inhabited  a  cottage,}:  and  where  other  re- 
latives also,  who  at  a  later  period  changed  their  name 
through  hatred  of  the  heresiarch,  then  offered  a  kindly 
welcome  to  the  procurator-fiscal.  But  it  was  to  study, 
chiefly,  that  young  Calvin  devoted  his  days.  While 
Luther,  who  was  to  act  upon  the.  mass  of  the  people, 
was  brought  up  as  a  peasant's  son,  Calvin,  ordained  to 
act  chiefly  as  a  theologian  and  a  reasoner,  and  to  be- 
come the  legislator  of  the  renovated  Church,  received, 
even  in  his  childhood,  a  more  liberal  education. $ 

A  spirit  of  piety  evinced  itself  betimes  in  the  child's 
heart.  One  of  his  biographers  tells  us,  that  he  was 
taught,  while  yet  young,  to  pray  in  the  open  air,  under 
the  vault  of  heaven,  a  practice  which  helped  to  awaken 
within  his  soul  the  sentiment  of  an  omnipresent  Deity. II 
But  although  Calvin  may,  even  in  his  earliest  years, 
have  heard  the  voice  of  God  addressed  to  his  heart, 
no  one  in  the  city  of  Noyon  was  more  exact  than  he 
in  the  observance  of  every  rule  established  by  the 
Church.  Gerard,  therefore,  remarking  the  bent  of 
his  mind,  conceived  the  design  of  devoting  his  son  to 
theology. IT  The  knowledge  of  his  destination  con- 
tributed undoubtedly  to  impress  upon  his  mind  that 
serious  and  theological  cast  by  which  it  was  afterward 
distinguished.  His  intellect  was  formed  by  nature  to 
take  a  decided  bias  from  the  first  and  to  nourish  the 
most  elevated  thoughts  at  an  early  age.  The  report 
that  he  was  a  chorister  boy  at  this  time  is  admitted  by 
his  adversaries  themselves  to  be  destitute  of  founda- 
tion ;  but  they  confidently  affirm  that  while  yet  a  child 
he  was  seen  in  religious  processions  carrying,  instead 
of  a  cross,  a  sword  with  a  cross-shaped  hilt.**  "  A 
presage,"  they  add,  "  of  what  he  was  one  day  to  be- 
come." "  The  Lord  has  made  my  mouth  like  a  sharp 
sword,"  says  the  servant  of  the  Lord,  in  Isaiah.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  Calvin. 

Gerard  was  poor  :  the  education  of  his  son  was 
burthensome  to  him,  and  he  wished  to  attach  him  irre- 
vocably to  the  church.  The  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  had 
been  appointed  coadjutor  to  the  Bishop  of  Metz,  when 
xonly  four  years  old.  It  was  then  a  common  practice 
to  bestow  ecclesiastical  titles  and  revenues  upon  chil- 
dren. Alphonso  of  Portugal,  was  created  a  cardinal 
by  Leo  the  Tenth,  at  the  age  of  eight  :  Odet  de  Cha- 
tillon  received  the  same  dignity  from  Clement  the 
Seventh,  at  the  age  of  eleven  ;  and,  at  a  later  period, 
the  celebrated  Mother  Angelica,  of  Port  Royal,  was 
made  coadjutrix  of  that  convent  at  the  age  of  seven. 
Gerard,  who  died  a  faithful  Catholic,  was  regarded  with 
favour  by  Charles  do  Hangest,  Bishop  of  Noyon,  and 
his  vicars-general.  Accordingly,  the  chaplaincy  of  La 
Gesine  having  become  vacant  by  the  resignation  of  the 
incumbent,  the  bishop,  on  the  15thMay,  1521,  bestowed 
that  benefice  on  John  Calvin,  whose  age  was  then 

*  Ego  qui  natura  subrusticus.     (Praef.  ad  Psalm.) 

{  Umbram  et  otiam  temper  amavi . . .  latebras  catare.  (Prsef. 
ad  Psalm.) 

\  "  It  is  reported  that  his  grandfather  was  a  cooper.*  (Dre- 
lincourt,  p.  36.  Levassenr  ann.  de  Noyori,  p.  1151.) 

(>  Henry,  dans  Leben  Calvins,  p,  29. 

||  Calvin's  Leben  von  Fischer,  Leipzig,  1794.  The  author 
does  not  quote  the  authority  on  which  he  relates  this  fact. 

f  Destinarat  autem  eum  pater  ab  initio  theologiaa  studiis, 
quod  in  ilia  etiam  tenera  state  minim  in  modum  religiosus 
esset.  (Bezae,  Vita  Calv.) 

**  Lovasseus,  ann.  de  Noyon,  pp.  1159, 1173. 


nearly  twelve  He  was  inducted  by  the  chapter  a  week 
after.  On  the  eve  of  Corpus  Christi,  the  bishop  so- 
lemnly cut  the  child's  hair  ;*  and  by  this  ceremouy  of 
tonsure,  John  was  invested  with  the  clerical  charac- 
ter, and  became  capable  of  entering  into  sacred  orders, 
and  holding  a  benefice  without  residing  on  the  spot. 

Thus  was  it  ordered  that  Calvin  in  his  childhood, 
should  have  personal  experience  of  the  abuses  of  the 
church  of  Rome.  There  was  not  a  tonsured  head  in 
the  kingdom  more  sincerely  pious  than  the  chaplain  of 
La  Gesine,  and  the  thoughtful  child,  was  himself  perhaps 
a  little  astonished,  at  the  operation  performed  by  the 
bishop  and  vicars-general.  But  in  the  simplicity  of  his 
heart,  he  revered  those  exalted  personages  too  highly 
to  harbour  the  least  suspicion  regarding  the  lawfulness 
of  his  tonsure.  He  had  enjoyed  the  distinction  about 
two  years,  when  Noyon  was  visited  with  a  terrible 
pestilence.  Several  of  the  canons  petitioned  the  chap- 
ter, that  they  might  be  allowed  to  quit  the  city. 
Already  many  of  the  inhabitants  had  been  struck 
by  the  "  great  death ;"  and  Gerard  began  to  reflect 
with  alarm,  that  his  son  John,  the  hope  of  his  age, 
might,  in  a  moment,  be  snatched  from  his  tenderness 
by  the  scourge  of  God.  The  children  of  the  Mommor 
family  were  going  to  Paris  to  continue  their  studies. 
This  was  the  very  opportunity  that  the  procurator- 
fiscal  had  always  desired  for  his  son.  Why  should  he 
separate  John  from  his  fellow-pupils  ?  On  the  5th  of 
August,  1523,  therefore,  he  presented  to  tho  chapter 
a  petition  that  the  young  chaplain  ir/ight  have  "  liberty 
to  go,  whithersoever  he  would,  during  the  continuance 
of  the  plague,  without  losing  his  allowances ;  which 
was  granted  accordingly,  until  the  feast  of  St.  Remi- 
gius."f  Thus  it  was  that  John  Calvin,  at  the  age  of 
fourteen,  quitted  his  paternal  home.  Calumny  must 
be  intrepid  indeed,  to  attribute  his  departure  to  other 
causes,  and  in  sheer  wantonness,  provoke  that  disgrace 
which  justly  recoils  on  all  who  give  currency  to  evil 
reports,  after  their  falsehood  has  been  demonstrated. 
It  would  appear,  that  on  his  arrival  in  Paris,  Calviu 
was  received  into  the  house  of  one  of  his  uncles, 
Richard  Cauvin,  who  lived  near  the  chrrch  of  St. 
Germain  1'Auxerrois.  •'  And  so,  while  flying  from  tho 
plague,"  says  the  canon  of  Noyon,  "  he  encountered 
a  more  fatal  pestilence." 

A  new  world  opened  itself  to  the  young  man  in  this 
metropolis  of  literature.  He  determined  to  profit  by 
his  fortune,  applied  himself  to  study,  and  made  great 
progress  in  latinity.  He  became  intimately  acquaint- 
ed with  the  writings  of  Cicero,  and  learned  from  that 
great  master,  to  employ  the  language  of  the  Romans 
with  an  ease,  a  purity,  an  idiomatic  grace,  which  ex- 
cited the  admiration  of  his  enemies  themselves.  But 
he  also  discovered  in  that  language  a  store  :*J  wealth 
which  he  was  afterward  to  transfer  into  his  own. 

Hitherto  the  Latin  had  been  the  sole  language  of 
literature.  It  was,  and  even  to  our  days  it  has  con- 
tinued, the  language  of  the  Romish  Church.  The 
modern  tongues  of  Europe  were  created — at  least  they 
were  emancipated — by  the  Reformation.  The  exclu- 
sive agency  of  the  priests  was  now  at  an  end ;  the  people 
were  called  upon  to  learn  and  to  know  for  themselves. 
In  this  single  fact  was  involved  the  abrogation  of  the 
language  of  the  priests — the  inauguration  of  the  lan- 
guage of  the  people.  It  is  not  to  the  Sorbonne  alone* 
it  in  not  to  a  few  monks,  a  few  divines,  a  few  men  of 

*  Vie  de  Calvin,  par  Desmay,  p.  31  ;  Levasseur,  p.  1158. 

f  The  particulars  here  given  rest  on  the  testimony  of  the 
priest,  and  vicar-general  Desmay,  (Jean  Calvin,  heresiarquc, 
p.  32,)  and  the  canon  Levasseur,  (Ann.  de  Noyon,  p.  1160,) 
who  found  them,  as  they  assure  us,  in  the  registers  of  the 
chapter  of  Noyon.  These  Romish  authors,  therefore,  refute 
the  inventions  or  mistakes  of  Richelieu  and  other  writers.— 
See  the  preface. 


364 


PROTESTANT  FRANCE— SYSTEM  OF  TERROR. 


letters,  that  the  new  doctrine  is  to  be  addressed  ;  it 
is  to  the  noble,  to  the  burgher,  to  the  art:sun — all  men 
now  are  to  be  preached  to :  nay,  more— all  men  now 
are  to  become  preachers  ;  wool -combers  and  knights, 
no  less  than  curates  and  doctors.  A  new  language, 
therefore,  is  wanted,  or,  at  any  rate,  the  ordinary 
language  of  the  people  must  undergo  a  mighty  trans- 
formation— must  experience  a  happy  deliverance  from 
its  shackles :  drawn  from  the  common  uses  of  life,  it 
must  be  indebted  to  a  renovated  Christianity  for  its 
patent  of  nobility.  The  Gospel,  so  long  laid  to  sleep, 
is  now  awake  again  :  it  appeals  to  the  nation  at  large  ; 
it  kindles  the  most  generous  affections  of  the  soul ;  it 
opens  the  treasures  of  heaven  to  a  generation  whose 
thoughts  were  all  confined  within  the  petty  circle  of 
the  world  below  ;  it  agitates  the  masses  ;  it  speaks  to 
them  of  God,  of  man,  of  good  and  evil,  of  the  pope, 
of  the  Bible,  of  a  crown  in  heaven — it  may  be,  also,  of 
a  scaffold  upon  earth.  The  popular  idiom,  which  hi- 
therto had  been  employed  only  by  the  chronicler  and 
the  minstrel,  was  summoned  by  the  Reformation,  to 
act  a  new  part,  and  consequently  to  receive  a  new 
development.  Society  finds  a  new  world  rising  up 
around  it ;  and  for  this  new  world  there  must  needs 
be  new  languages.  The  Reformation  freed  the  French 
language  from  the  swaddling  bands  in  which  it  had  hi- 
therto been  confined,  and  reared  it  to  a  speedy  and  vigo- 
rous maturity.  Since  then,  that  language  has  had  full 
possession  of  all  the  exalted  privileges  that  belong 
to  a  dialect  conversant  with  the  operations  of  rnind  and 
the  great  concerns  of  heaven — privileges  which,  under 
the  tutelage  of  Rome,  it  had  never  enjoyed.  True  it 
is  that  the  people  form  their  own  language  ;  they,  and 
they  alone,  invent  those  happy  words — those  figura- 
tive and  energetic  phrases,  which  give  colouring  and 
animation  to  human  speech.  But  there  are  latent 
powers  in  language  which  they  know  not  how  to  elicit, 
and  which  men  of  cultivated  intellect  can  alone  call 
into  action.  When  the  time  arrived  for  Calvin  to  en- 
gage  in  discussion  and  controversy,  he  was  forced  by 
the  exigency  of  the  case  to  enrich  his  native  tongue 
with  modes  of  expression  hitherto  unknown  to  it — in- 
dicating the  dependence,  the  connexion,  the  minute 
diversity  of  ideas,  the  transition  from  one  to  another, 
and  the  various  steps  in  the  process  of  logical  deductions. 

The  elements  of  all  this  were  already  working  in 
the  brain  of  the  young  student  of  the  college  of  La 
Marche.  This  child,  who  was  to  exert  so  powerful  a 
mastery  over  the  human  heart,  was  destined  to  exhi- 
bit equal  power  in  bending  and  moulding  to  his  will 
the  idiom  which  was  to  serve  as  his  instrument.  The 
French  of  Calvin  eventually  became  the  language  of 
Protestant  France,  and  when  we  speak  of  Protestant 
France,  we  speak  of  the  most  cultivated  portion  of 
the  French  nation ;  since  out  of  that  portion  arose 
those  families  of  scholars  and  dignified  magistrates, 
vrho  contributed  so  much  to  the  refinement  of  the  na- 
tional character—out  of  that  portion  arose  also  the  so- 
ciety of  Port  Royal,*  one  of  the  great  agents  by  which 
the  prose  and  even  the  poetry  of  France  have  been 
modelled — a  society  which  aimed  at  introducing  into 
the  Catholicism  of  the  Gallican  Chnrch  both  the  doc- 
trine and  the  language  of  the  Reformation,  and  failing 
in  one  of  these  objects,  succeeded  in  the  other ;  for 
who  can  deny  that  Roman  Catholic  France  had  to 
.earn  from  her  antagonists  among  the  Ja.isenists  and 
Reformers,  how  to  handle  those  weapons  of  style, 
without  which  it  would  have  been  impossible  for  her 
to  maintain  her  ground  against  them  \\ 

*  M.  A.  Arnauld,  the  grandfather  of  Mother  Angelica  and 
nf  all  the  Arnaulds  of  Port  Royal,  was  a  Protestant — see 
*'  Port  Royal,  par  M.  Samte-Beuve.'' 

t  Etudes  Liter,  sur  Calvin,  par  M.  A.  Sayers,  Geneve.  1839, 
art.  iv.  This  work  has  been  followed  by  similar  inquiries 
regarding  Farel,  Viret,  and  Beza. 


In  the  mean  time,  while  the  future  Reformer  of  re- 
ligion and  of  language,  was  ripening  in  the  college  of 
La  Marchc,  all  was  in  commotion  around  that  young 
and  thoughtful  scholar,  without  his  being  at  all  affected 
by  the  "mighty  movements  which  agitated  society. 
The  flames  that  consumed  the  hermit  and  Pavanne, 
shed  dismay  over  Paris.  But  the  persecutors  were  not 
satisfied  ;  a  system  of  terror  was  set  on  foot  through- 
out the  whole  of  France.  The  friends  of  the  Refor- 
mation no  longer  dared  to  correspond  with  each  other, 
lest  their  letters  should  be  intercepted,  and  so  betray 
to  the  vengeance  of  the  tribunals,  not  only  those  who 
had  written  them,  but  those  also  to  whom  they  were 
addressed.*  One  man,  however,  was  bold  enough  to 
undertake  the  office  of  conveying  intelligence  of  \vb\t 
was  passing  in  Paris  and  in  France,  to  the  refugees 
at  Basle — by  means  of  an  unsigned  letter  sewed  up  in 
his  doublet.  He  escaped  the  scattered  panics  of  ar- 
quebusiers — the  marchaussee  of  the  different  districts, 
the  strict  examinations  of  the  provosts  and  their  lieu- 
tenants— and  arrived  at  Basle  with  the  doublet  on  his 
back  and  its  hidden  deposit  untouched.  The  tidings  of 
which  he  was  the  bearer,  struck  terror  into  the  hearts 
of  Toussaint  and  his  friends.  "  It  is  piteous  to  hear 
of  the  cruelties  they  are  committing  yonder  !"t — ex- 
claims Toussaint.  A  little  before  this,  two  Francis- 
can friars  had  arrived  at  Basle  closely  pursued  by  >he 
officers  of  justice.  One  of  these  friars,  named  John 
Provost,  had  preached  at  Meaux,  and  had  afterward 
been  thrown  into  prison  in  Paris. J  The  accounts 
they  brought  from  the  capital,  as  well  as  from  Lyons, 
through  which  city  they  had  passed  on  their  way, 
excited  the  deepest;  compassion  in  the  minds  01  the 
refugees :  "  May  our  Lord  visit  them  \vi'h  h:s 
grace  !"  said  Toussaint,  writing  to  Farel  ;  ';  ntlieve 
me  when  I  tell  you  that  at  times  I  am  in  great  anxiety 
and  tribulation." 

These  excellent  men  did  not  lose  heart,  however. 
In  vain  were  all  the  parliaments  on  the  watch  ;  in  vain 
did  the  spies  of  the  Sorbonne  and  the  monks  creep 
into  churches  and  colleges,  and  even  into  private  fami- 
lies, to  catch  up  any  word  of  Evangelic  doctrine  that 
might  be  dropped  there  ;  in  vain  did  the  king's  gens 
d'armes  patrol  the  highways  to  intercept  everything 
that  seemed  to  bear  the  impress  of  the  Reformation  ; 
these  Frenchmen,  thus  hunted  and  trodden  on  by  Rome 
and  her  myrmidons,  had  faith  in  better  days  to  come  ; 
and  even  now,  the  termination  of  what  they  called  the 
Babylonish  captivity,  was  greeted  by  them  afar.  "  At 
length,"  said  they,  "  the  seventieth  year  will  arrive — 
the  year  of  deliverance,  and  liberty  of  spirit  and  of  con- 
science will  be  ours."§  But  the  seventy  years  were 
to  be  extended  ',o  nearly  three  centuries,  and  unheard- 
of  calamities  were  to  be  endured  before  these  hopes 
should  be  realized.  It  was  not  in  man,  however,  that 
the  refugees  put  their  trust.  "  They  who  have  begun 
the  dance,"  said  Toussaint,  "  will  not  stop  short  in  the 
middle  of  it."  But  they  believed  that  the  Lord  "  knew 
those  whom  he  had  chosen,  and  would  accomplish 
the  deliverance  of  His  people,  by  the  hand  of  His 
power."|l 

The  Chevalier  d'Esch,  had  actually  tasted  the  mercy 
of  deliverance.  Being  dismissed  from  the  prison  of 
Pont-a-Mousson,  he  had  hastened  to  Strasburg ;  but 
his  stay  there  was  short.  For  "  the  honour  of  God," 
wrote  Toussaint  to  Farel,  "immediately  prevail  on 

*  "  Not  a  person  dares  to  write  to  me."— (Toussaint  to  Farel, 
4th  Sept.  15-25.  MS.  of  Neufchatel.) 

\  Tonssaint  to  Farel,  4th  Sept.  1525. 

t  Ibid,  21st  July,  1525. 

^  Sane  venitannus  septuagesimus,  ettempus  appetit 
dem  vindicemur  in  libertatem  spiritus  et  conscientiae.    ( 

||  Sed  novit  Dominus  quos  elegerit.  (Toussaint  to  Farel, 
21  July, 1525) 


TOUSSAINT  IN  PRISON—"  NOT  ACCEPTING  DELIVERANCE." 


366 


OUT  worthy  master,*  the  Chevalier,  to  return  as  quick- 
ly as  possible,  for  our  other  brethern  have  need  of 
such  a  leader."  In  fact  the  French  refugees  had  now 
fresh  cause  of  alarm.  They  were  apprehensive  lhat 
the  dispute  respecting  the  Lord's  Supper,  which  had 
afflicted  them  so  greviously  in  Germany,  would  find 
its  way  across  the  Rhine,  and  prove  the  source  of  new 
troubles  in  France.  Francis  Lambert,  the  monk  of 
Avignon,  after  visiting  Zurich  and  Wittemberg,  had 
ai/:ved  at  Metz,  where  he  was  regarded  with  a  mea- 
sure of  distrust,  for  it  was  feared  that  he  might  int;-o- 
duce  the  sentiments  of  Luther,  and  by  fruitless,  and, 
as  Toussaint  calls  them,  "  monstrous  "  controversies, 
impede  the  progress  of  the  Reformation. t  Esch, 
therefore,  returned  to  Lorraine,  to  be  again  exposed  to 
great  dangers,  "  in  common  with  all  in  that  region, 
who  wore  seeking  the  glory  of  Christ. "t 

But  Toussaint  was  not  the  man  who  would  invite 
others  to  join  the  battle,  while  he  himself  kept  aloof 
from  it.  Deprived  of  the  comfort  of  daily  intercourse 
with  (Ecolampadius,  reduced  to  the  society  of  an  ill- 
nurtured  priest,  he  had  sought  more  communion  with 
Christ,  and  had  gained  an  accession  of  courage.  If 
he  could  not  return  to  Metz,  might  he  not  at  least  go 
to  Paris  ]  True,  the  smoke  that  ascended  from  the 
pites  on  which  Pavanne  and  the  hermit  of  Livry  had 
been  sacrificed  was  scarcely  yet  cleared  away,  and  its 
dark  shadow  might  seem  to  repel  from  the  capital  all 
whose  faith  bore  any  resemblance  to  their's.  But  if,  as 
he  had  heard,  the  terror  that  prevailed  in  the  colleges  of 
Paris  and  amid  her  streets  was  such,  that  none  dared 
even  to  name  the  Gospel,  or  the  Reformation — was 
not  this  a  reason  why  he  should  repair  thither  1  Tous- 
saint quitted  Basle,  and  took  up  his  abode  within  those 
perilous  walls,  heretofore  the  seat  of  revelry  and  licen- 
tious pleasure,  now  the  stronghold  of  fanaticism.  His 
desire  was  to  pursue  his  studies  in  Christian  literature, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  form  a  connexion  with  the 
brethren  who  were  in  the  colleges,  particularly  with 
those  who  were  in  the  college  of  Cardinal  Lemoine, 
wh  re  Lefevre  and  Farel  had  taught.^  But  he  was 
not  long  left  at  liberty  to  prosecute  his  design.  The 
tyranny  of  the  parliamentary  commissaries  and  the 
doctors  of  the  Sorbonne  now  reigned  supreme  over  the 
capital,  and  whosoever  was  obnoxious  to  these,  was 
sure  to  be  accused  of  heresy. II  A  duke  and  an  abbot, 
whose  names  are  not  upon  record,  denounced  Tous- 
saint as  a  heretic ;  and,  one  day,  the  king's  sergeants 
arrested  the  young  Lorrainer,  and  threw  him  into 
prison.  Separated  from  all  his  friends,  and  treated  as 
a  cnmina,  Toussaint  felt  his  helplessness  more  as  a 
sinner  than  a  captive.  "  0  Lord  !"  cried  he,  "  with- 
draw not  thy  Spirit  from  me,  for  without  that  Holy 
Spirit  I  am  altogether  carnal  and  a  sink  of  iniquity." 
While  his  body  was  held  in  chains,  his  heart  turned  for 
solace  to  the  remembrance  of  those  who  were  still  at 
large  to  struggle  for  the  Gospel.  There  was  CEco- 
lacnpadius,  his  father,  "  whose  work,"  says  ho,  "  we 
are  in  the  Lord."^"  There  was  Lefevre,  whom  (obvi- 
ously on  account  of  his  age,)  he  deemed  "  unmeet  to 
bear  the  burthen  of  the  Gospel  ;"**  there  was  Roussel, 
"  by  whom  he  trusted  that  the  Lord  would  do  great 

*  Si  nos  magistrurn  in  ten-is  habere  deceat,"  he  adds.  (Tos- 
sanus  Farello,  MS.  of  Neufchatel.) 

f  Vereor  ne  aliquid  monstri  alat.     (Ibid,  27  Sept.  1525.) 

t  Audio  etiam  equitem  periclitari,  simul  et  onines  qui  .  .  . 
favent.  (Ibid,  27  Dec.  1575.) 

(}  Fratres  qui  in  collegio  Cardinalis  Monachi  sunt  te  salu- 
tant.  (Tossanus  Farello.  MS.  of  NeufchateU 

)|  Regnante  hie  tyrannidecommissariorum  et  theologorum. 
(Ibid.) 

IT  Patrem  nostrum  cujus  nos  opus  sumus  in  Domino.  (Ibid.) 
This  letter  is  without  a  date,  but  it  appeal's  to  have  been  writ- 
ten shortly  after  the  liberation  of  Toussaint,  and  it  shows  the 
thoughts  which  occupied  him  at  that  period. 

**  Faber  est  impar  oneri  evangelico  ferendo.     (Ibid.) 


things  ;"*  and  Vaugris,  who  had  manifested  all  the 
zeal  *'  of  the  most  affectionate  brother,"  in  his  efforts  to 
rescue  him  from  the  power  of  his  enemies,  f  There  was 
Farel  also,  to  whom  he  wrote,  "  I  entreat  your  prayers 
on  my  benalf,  that  I  may  not  be  faint  in  this  conflict."t 
How  effectual  must  he  have  found  the  repetition  of 
those  beloved  names  in  awakening  thoughts  which 
mitigated  the  bitterness  of  his  captivity — for  he  showed 
no  signs  of  fainting.  Death,  it  is  true,  seemed  to  be 
impending  over  his  head,  in  a  city  where  the  blood  of 
multitudes  of  his  brethren  was  afterward  to  be  poured 
out  like  water  ;§  and,  on  the  other  hand,  offers  of  the 
most  lavish  kind  were  made  by  the  friends  of  his  mo- 
ther, and  of  his  uncle  the  Dean  of  Metz,  as  well  as  by 
the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  10  induce  him  to  recant.fl 
But  his  reply  to  such  offers  was — "  I  despise  them  all. 
I  know  that  God  is  now  putting  me  to  the  trial.  I 
would  rather  endure  hunger — I  would  rather  be  a  very 
abject  in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  than  dwell  with  great 
riches  in  the  palaces  of  the  ungodly. "H"  At  the  same 
time  he  made  a  clear  and  open  confession  of  his  faith;  "I 
glory,"  he  said,  "  in  being  called  a  heretic  by  those  whose 
lives  and  doctrine  I  see  to  be  directly  opposite  to  those 
of  Christ."**  And  the  young  man  subscribed  himself, 
"  Peter  Toussaint,  unworthy  of  his  name  of  Christian" 

Thus,  in  the  absence  of  the  monarch,  new  attacks 
were  levelled  against  the  Reformation.  •  Berquin, 
Toussaint,  and  many  others  were  in  bonds ;  Schuch, 
Pavanne,  and  the  hermit  of  Livry,  had  been  put  to 
death ;  Farel,  Lefevre,  Roussel,  and  many  other  de- 
fenders of  sound  doctrine,  were  in  exile  ;  and  the 
tongues  of  the  most  eloquent  were  chained.  The 
light  of  the  Gospel  waxed  dim ;  the  storm  roared 
around,  bending,  and  shaking  as  if  it  would  uproot  that 
tree  which  the  hand  of  God  had  so  recently  planted 
on  the  French  soil. 

To  those  humbler  victims  who  had  already  fallen, 
others  of  more  note  were  now  to  succeed.  The  ene- 
my, failing  in  their  efforts  when  directed  against  persons 
of  distinction,  had  submitted  to  work  from  beneath, 
upward  ;  hoping  gradually  to  bring  to  bear  on  the 
more  eminent  in  station  the  sentence  of  condemnation 
and  death.  It  was  a  sort  of  countermarch  which  an- 
swered the  purpose  they  had  in  view.  Scarcely  had 
the  wind  scattered  the  ashes  with  which  persecution 
strewed  the  Place  de  Greve  and  the  close  of  Notro 
Dame,  when  farther  blows  were  struck.  The  excel- 
lent Messire  Anthony  Du  Blet,  the  "  negociateur  " 
of  Lyons,  sunk  under  the  persecutions  of  the  enemies 
of  the  truth ;  as  did  also  another  disciple,  Francis 
Moulin.  No  detailed  account  of  their  deaths  has  come 
down  to  us.tt  Not  stopping  there,  the  persecutors 
proceeded  to  take  a  higher  aim.  One  there  was  whose 
eminent  rank  placed  her  beyond  their  reach — but  who 
might  yet  be  stricken  in  the  persons  of  those  dear  to 
her.  This  was  the  Duchess  of  Alen<jon.  Michel 
d'Arande,  her  chaplain — for  the  sake  of  whom  Margaret 
had  dismissed  her  other  preachers,  and  who  was  ac- 
customed in  her  presence  to  publish  a  pure  Gospel — 
was  singled  out  for  attack  and  threatened  with  im- 
prisonment and  death.  Jt  About  the  same  time  An- 

*  Per  Rufum  magna  operabitur  Dominus.    (Ibid.) 

f  Fidelissimi  fratris  officio  functum.  (Tossanus  Farello, 
MS.  of  Neufchatel.) 

|  Commendo  me  vestris  precibus,  ne  succumbam  in  hac 
militia.  (Ibid.) 

§  Mo  periclitari  de  vita.     (Ibid.) 

|i  Offerebantur  hie  mihi  conditiones  amplissimse.     (Ibid.) 

IT  Malo  esurire  et  abjectus  esse  in  domo  Domini.     (Ibid.; 

**  Hasc,  hasc  gloria  mea  quod  Itabeor  ha-reticus  ab  his  quo- 
rum vitam  et  loctrinam  video  pugnarecum  Christo.  (Ibid.) 

ft  Periit  Franciscus  Molinua  ac  Dubletus.  (Erasm.  Epp.  p. 
1 109.)  Erasmus,  in  his  letter  addressed  to  Francis  I.,  in  July, 
15-26,  names  all  those  who,  during  the  captivity  of  that  prince, 
fell  victims  to  the  Romish  fanatics. 

It  Periclatus  eat  Michael  Araatius.     (Ibid.) 


PROJECT  OF -MARGARET  FOR  THE  DELIVERANCE  OF  FRANCIS. 


thony  Papillon,  for  whom  the  princess  had  obtained 
the  office  of  Chief  Master  of  Requests  to  the  Dauphin, 
died  suddenly,  and  a  report  generally  prevalent  even 
among  the  enemies,  ascribed  hi*  death  to  poison.* 

The  persecution  was  spreading  through  the  king- 
dom, and  drawing  nearer  to  the  person  of  Margaret. 
The  isolated  champions  of  truth  were,  one  after  ano- 
ther, stretched  upon  the  field.  A  few  more  such  vic- 
tories, and  the  soil  of  France  would  be  purged  from 
Jheresy.  Underhand  contrivances  and  secret  practises 
took  the  place  of  clamour  and  the  stake.  The  war 
•was  conducted  in  open  day  ;  but  k  was  decided  that 
it  should  also  be  carried  on  darkly  and  in  secrecy.  If, 
in  dealing  with  the  common  people,  fanaticism  employs 
the  tribunal  and  the  scaffold,  it  has  m  reserve  poison 
and  the  dagger  for  those  of  more  note.  The  doctors 
of  a  celebrated  school  are  but  too  well  known  for  hav- 
ing patronised  the  use  of  such  means ;  and  kings  them- 
selves have  fallen  victims-  to  the  steel  of  the  assassins. 
But  if  France  has  had  in  every  age  its  Seides,  k  has 
also  had  its  Vincents  de  Paul  and  its-  Fenek>ne. 
Strokes  falling  in  darkness  and  silence  were  well  fitted 
to  spread  terror  on  all  sides ;  and!  to  this  perfidious 
policy  and  these  fanatical  persecutions,  in  the  interior 
of  the  kingdom,  were  now  added  the  fatal  reverses 
experienced  beyond  the  frontier.  A  dark  cloud  was 
spread  over  the  whole  natron.  Not  a  family,  especi- 
ally among  the  higher  classes,  but  was  either  mourn- 
ing for  a  father,  a  husbandr  or  a  son,  who  had  fallen  on 
the  plains  of  Italy,!  or  trembling  for  the  liberty  or 
life  of  one  of  its  members.  The  signal  misfortunes 
which  had  burst  upon  the  nation  diffused  everywhere 
ft  leaven  of  hatred  against  the  heretics.  The  people, 
the  parliament,  the  Church,  and  even  the  throne,  were 
joined  hand  in  hand. 

Was  there  not  enough  to  bow  the  heart  of  Marga- 
ret in  the  defeat  at  Pavia,  the  death  of  her  husband, 
and  the  captivity  of  her  brother  ?  Was  she  doomed 
to  witness  the  final  extinction  of  that  soft  light  of  the 
Gospel  in  which  her  heart  had  found  such  joy  ?  News 
arrived  from  Spain  which  added  to  the  general  distress. 
Mortification  and  sickness  had  reduced  the  haughty 
Francis  to  the  brink  of  the  grave.  If  the  king  should 
continue  a  captive,  or  die,  and  the  regency  of  his  mo- 
ther be  protracted  for  some  years,  there  was  apparently 
an  end  of  all  prospect  of  a  Reformation.  "  But  when 
ail  seems  lost,"  observed,  at  a  later  period,  the  young 
scholar  of  Noyon,  "  God  interposes  to  deliver  and 
guard  His  church  in  His  own  wondrous  way."t  The 
Church  of  France,  which  was  as  if  travailing  in  birth, 
was  to  have  a  brief  interval  of  ease  before  its  pains 
returned  upon  it ;  and  God  made  use  of  a  weak  wo- 
man— one  who  never  openly  declared  for  the  Gospel 
— in  order  to  give  lo  the  Church  this  season  of  rest. 
Margaret  herself,  at  this  time,  thought  more  of  saving 
the  king  and  the  kingdom,  than  of  delivering  the  com- 
paratively unknown  Christians,  who  were  yet  resting 
many  hope-  upon  her  interference. $  But  under  the 
dazzling  surface  of  human  affairs,  God  often  hides  the 
mysterious  ways  in  which  He  rules  His  people.  A 
generous  project  was  suggested  to  the  miod  of  the  Du- 
chess of  Alen9on  ;  it  was,  to  cross  the  sea,  or  traverse 
the  Pyrenees,  and  rescue  Francis  I.  from  the  power  of 
Charles  V.  Such  was  the  object  to  which  her  thoughts 
was  henceforth  directed. 

Margaret  announced  her  intention,  and  France  hailed 

*  "  Periit  Papilio  non  sine  gravi  suspicione  veneni  "  savs 
Erasmus.  (Ibid.) 

|  Gaillard  Histoire  de  Francois  ler,  torn.  2,  p  255. 

}  Nam  habet  Deus  modum,  quo  electos  suoa  mirabiliter 
custodial,  ubi  omnia  perdita  videntur.  (Calvinus  in  EP.  ad 
Rom.  xi.  2.) 

& . . . .  Beneficio  Ulustrissim*  Ducus  Alanconiw.  (Toussaint 
aFarel.) 


it  with  grateful  acclamation.  Her  genius,  her  great 
reputation,  and  the  attachment  existing  between  her- 
self and  her  brother,  helped  much  to  counterbalance,, 
in  the  eyes  of  Louisa  and  of  Duprat,  her  partiality  for 
the  new  doctrines.  All  eyes  were  turned  upon  her,  as 
the  only  person  capable  of  extricating  the  nation  from> 
rts  perilous  position.  Let  Margaret  in  person,  make  an. 
appeal  to  the  powerful  emperor  and  his  ministers,  and 
em-ploy  the  admirable  genius  with  which  she  was  gifted, 
in  the  effort  to  give  liberty  to  her  brother  atnd  her  King. 
Yet  very  various  feelings  existed  among  the  nobility 
and  the  people  in  the  prospect  of  the  Duchess  trusting 
herself  in  the  centre  of  the  enemies' councils,  and  among 
the  stern  soldiery  of  the  Catholic  king.  All  admir- 
ed, btrt  without  sharing  in  her  confidence  and  devoted- 
ness  :  her  friends  had  fears  for  her,  whkh,  in  the  re- 
sult were  but  too  near  being  realized  :  but  the  evange- 
lical party  were  fall  of  hope.  The  king's  captivity  had 
been  to  them  the  occasion  of  hitherto  unprecedented 
severities — his  restoration  to  liberty  they  expected 
would  put  a  period  to  those  rigours.  Let  the  king 
once  find  himself  beyond  the  Spanish  frontier,  and  th« 
gates  of  those  prison  houses  and  castles,  wherein  the 
servants  of  God's  word  were  immured,  would  instant- 
ly be  set  open.  Margaret  was  more  and  more  con- 
firmed in  a  project  to  which  she  felt  herself  drawn  by 
so  many  and  various  motives. 

My  heart  is  fixed  ;  and  not  the  heavens  above 
From  its  firm  purpose  can  my  spirit  move  ; 
Nor  hell,  with  all  its  powers,  my  course  withstand, 
For  Jesus  holds  its  keys  within  his  hand.* 

Her  woman's  heart  was  strengthened  with  that  faith 
which  overcomes  the  world,  and  her  resolution  was  ir- 
revocably settled.  Preparations  was  accordingly  made 
for  her  journey. 

The  archbishop  of  Embrun,  afterward  cardinal  of 
Tournon,  and  the  president  of  Selves,  had  already  re- 
paired to  Madrid  to  treat  for  the  ransom  of  the  king. 
They  were  placed  under  the  direction  of  Margaret,  as 
was  also  the  Bishop  of  Tarbes,  afterward  Cardinal  of 
Grammont ;  full  powers  being  given  to  the  Princess. 
At  the  same  time  Montmorency,  afterward  so  hostile 
to  the  Reformation,  was  despatched  in  haste  to  Spain 
to  solicit  a  safe-conduct  for  the  king's  sister. t  The 
Emperor  at  first  hesitated,  alleging  that  it  was  for  his 
ministers  to  arrange  terms.  "  One  hour's  conference 
between  your  majesty,  the  king  my  master,  and  Ma- 
dame d'Alen^on,"  remaked  Selves,  would  forward 
matters  more  than  a  month's  discussion  between  the 
diplomatists."}  Margaret,  impatient  to  attain  her  ob- 
ject, set  out  unprovided  with  a  safe-conduct,  accom- 
panied by  a  splendid  retinue. $  She  took  leave  of  the 
court  and  passed  through  Lyons,  taking  the  direction 
of  the  Mediterranean  ;  but  on  her  road  she  was  joined 
by  Montmorency,  who  was  the  bearer  of  letters  from 
Charles,  guaranteeing  her  liberty  for  a  period  of  three 
months.  She  reached  Aigues-MortesJ  and  at  that 
port  the  sister  of  Francis  the  First  embarked  on  board 
a  vessel  prepared  for  her.  Led  by  Providence  into 
Spain  rather  for  the  deliverance  of  nameless  and  op- 
pressed Christians,  than  for  the  liberation  of  the  pow- 
erful monarch  of  France,  Margaret  committed  herself 
to  that  sea  whose  waves  had  borne  her  brother  when 
taken  prisoner  after  the  fatal  battle  of  Pavia. 

*  Marguerites  de  la  Marguerite  des  princesses,  torn.  i.  p.  12&. 

t  Memoires  de  Du  Bellay,  p.  124. 

t  Histoire  de  France,  par  Garnier,  torn.  xxiv. 

^  Pour  taster  au  vif  la  volunte  de  1'esleu  empereu-r  . .  .  Ma- 
dame Marguerite,  duchesse  J'ATencon,  tres-notablement  ac- 
compaignee  de  plusieurs  ambassadeurs  .  .  .  (Les  gestes  de 
Francoise  de  Valois,  par  E.  Dolet,  1540.) 

||  Jam  in  itinere  erat  Margarita,  Francisci  soror  .  .  e  fossia 
Marianis  solvens,  Barcinonem  primum,  deinde  Caesar  Augus- 
tum  appuleraU  (Belcarius,  Rerum  Oallicaruro  Comment.  p> 
666.) 


THE 


EBKOKS  OF  ROMANISM 


TRACED  TO 


THEIR  ORIGIN  IN  HUMAN  NATURE, 


BY  RICHARD  WHATELY,  D.  D. 

li 

ARCHBISHOP  OF  DUBLIN. 


The  thing  that  hath  been,  it  is  that  which  shall  be  ;  and  that  which  is  done,  is  that  which  shall  be 
done  :  and  there  is  no  new  thing  under  the  sun.    ECCLES.  i.  9. 

....  yiyvopsvce,  /AEK,  xa*  ccsl  eo-opevx,  su$  ouv  *H  AYTH  OTSIS  AN©PnnfiN  ri  jtx,aAAoy  oe 
xai  Yia'v^otirs^ct)  xat   tot<;   t*$ecri  ^ivthX 
ftuv  i$iarrut>Tcn.      Thucyd.  b.  iii.  ch.  82. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

JAMES   M.  CAMPBELL  &  CO.,  98  CHESTNUT    STREET. 
NEW  YORK:  SAXTON  &  MILES,  205  BROADWAY. 

STEREOTYPED  BY  C.  W.  MURRAY  &  CO. 

1843. 


TO  THE 

KEVEREND  JOSEPH  BLANCO  WHITE,  M.A 

OF  ORIEL  COLLEGE,  OXFORD. 


Ml*  DEAR  FRIEXD  - 

I  AM  aware  that  it  is  a  violation  of  established  forms  to  take  the  liberty  of  dedi- 
cating this  work  to  you,  without  previously  applying  for  your  permission. 

The  ground  on  which  I  petition  for  your  indulgence  is,  my  fear  that  your 
modesty  might  have  led  you,  if  not  to  withhold  your  consent  altogether,  yet  to 
prohibit  me  from  speaking  of  you  in  the  manner  I  could  wish.  Not  that  it  is  my 
design  to  make  this  dedication  the  vehicle  of  a  formal  panegyric  ;  or  to  comment 
either  on  that  part  of  your  character  and  conduct  which  is  before  the  public,  and 
which  it  would  be  an  affront  to  my  readers  to  suppose  them  not  to  know  and 
admire  ;  or  again,  on  the  particulars  of  our  private  friendship,  in  which  they  have 
no  concern.  But  I  feel  bound  to  take  this  occasion  of  acknowledging  publicly  one 
particular  advantage  which  I  have  derived  from  my  intercourse  with  you  :  I  am 
indebted  to  you  for  such  an  insight  into  the  peculiarities  of  the  church  of  Rome, 
as  f  could  never  have  gained,  either  from  any  one  who  had  not  been  originally,  or 
from  any  one  who  still  continued,  a  member  of  that  church.  Your  intimate 
acquaintance  with  it,  has  enlarged  and  cleared  the  view  I  had  long  since  taken  of 
its  system;  as  being  the  gradual,  spontaneous  growth  of  the  human  heart;  —  as 
being,  what  may  be  called,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  religion  of  nature  ;  viz.,  such  a 
kind  of  religion  as  "  the  natural  man"  is  disposed  to  frame  for  himself. 

One  who  has  both  been  so  deeply  versed  as  yourself  in  the  learning  of  that 
church,  and  has  also  had  the  opportunities  you  have  enjoyed,  of  not  merely  forming 
a  judgment  of  the  apparent  tendencies  of  each  part  of  the  system,  but  observing 
how  it  actually  works,  and  what  are  the  practical  results  —  and  who  has  subse- 
quently been  enabled,  under  the  divine  blessing,  to  embrace  a  purer  faith  —  must, 
unless  he  fall  far  short  of  you  in  candour  or  intelligence,  be  much  better  qualified 
than  either  a  Romanist,  or  one  brought  up  in  our  church,  to  estimate  the  true 
character  of  the  two  religions.  As,  on  the  one  hand,  (like  Moses,  who  was  "  skilled 
in  all  the  learning  of  the  Egyptians,")  you  may  be  reckoned,  as  far  as  knowledge 
is  concerned,  an  eminent  Roman  Catholic  divine,  so,  on  the  other  hand,  you  may, 
in  one  point  of  view,  be  considered  as  more  eminently  Protestant,  than  most  mem- 
bers of  our  church.  For  I  cannot,  of  course,  be  certain,  of  others,  or  even  of 
myself,  that,  if  we  had,  like  you,  been  educated  in  the  Romish  church,  we  should 
have  escaped,  like  you,  from  that  spiritual  bondage  ;  —  that  we  might  not  have 
either  continued  enslaved  to  her  tenets,  or  have  been  plunged  irrecoverably  into 
that  gulf  of  Atheism,  to  the  brink  of  which  she  brings  her  votaries  :  which  she 
does,  as  you  have  well  pointed  out,  by  sedulously  presenting,  as  the  sole  alternative, 
implicit  devotion  to  her  decrees,  or,  no  religion  at  all. 

It  is,  as  I  have  said,  impossible  to  pronounce  with  certainty,  of  any  one  bred  a 
Protestant,  that  he  would  have  become  so,  had  he  been  educated  in  the  Romish 
system  :  but  it  might  safely  be  pronounced,  that  I  should  not  have  done  so,  were 
J  one  of  those  who  stigmatize  you  as  an  apostate,  for  renouncing  and  testifying 
against  the  system  in  which  you  were  brought  up.  I  should  then  deserve  to  be 
characterized  as  Protestant  only  by  the  accidents  of  country  and  kindred. 

You  are  doubtless  familiar  however  with  the  principle  long  since  noticed  by  the 
great  historian  of  Greece,  and  ready  to  make  allowance  for  its  operation,  that 
"  most  men  are  slow  to  give  another  credit  for  feeling  nobler  sentiments,  and  acting 
on  higher  motives,  than  any  that  have  ever  found  a  place  in  their  own  breasts."* 


tavrov   fyvcrit   OLK.OVOI.  //•£%£»  ycig  TOV&S  aveXTo*  ot  iirouvok  tin 

ireguv  Xeyou.tVQi,  sq  otrov  ctv  xa»  aiJro?  tx.ucrrof  ot'rjTat  tnafo?  tTvat  ^acrat  rt  wv  >jxoy<76. 
ru   $t  t"7rs£j3«AAom  ctvruv  ^av^vtrt^  ytii)  xat  otTrurrovyw.     Thucyd.  b.  ii.  ch.  35. 


IV  DEDICATION. 

Posterity  nevertheless  will,  I  am  convinced,  do  justice  to  your  character,  and 
appreciate  your  services. 

Diram  qui  contudit  Hydrant, 
Comperit  invidiam  supremo  fine  domari. 

You  have  been  led,  by  the  circumstances  in  which  you  were  placed,  and  of 
which  you  have  taken  due  advantage,  to  examine  different  systems  carefully,  and 
to  make  up  your  mind  on  mature  deliberation.  And  the  same  circumstances  which 
induced  you  to  observe,  and  enabled  you  to  estimate,  the  differences  between 
Romanists  and  Protestants,  have  also  qualified  you  to  notice  the  points  of  resem- 
blance in  all  men ;  to  recognize  in  all,  of  whatever  country  or  persuasion,  the 
tendency  towards  each  of  those  Romish  errors  which  you  have  seen  magnified 
and  exaggerated  in  that  church ; — to  detect  the  minutest  drop,  in  the  most  disguised 
mixture,  of  those  poisons  which  you  have  seen  in  their  rectified  and  concentrated 
form,  operating  to  produce  their  baneful  results. 

With  a  view,  therefore,  to  the  particular  object  of  the  present  work,  it  must  have 
been  very  much  my  own  fault,  if  I  have  not  derived  from  your  conversation  the 
most  valuable  suggestions  and  corrections.  I  only  regret  that  you  did  not  your- 
self undertake  the  task,  for  which  no  one  else  can  be,  on  the  whole,  so  well 
qualified. 

As  it  is,  I  have  only  to  express  thus  publicly  my  sense  of  the  advantages  I  have 
enjoyed,  and  to  beg  your  favourable  acceptance  of  this  dedication  of  a  work,  to 
which  you  will  thus  have,  indirectly,  so  much  contributed.  Should  I  be  enabled, 
by  placing  in  a  somewhat  new  light,  questions  which  have  been  long  since 
copiously  discussed,  to  awaken  the  attention  even  of  a  few,  whether  Romanists  or 
Protestants,  to  the  faults,  either  existing,  or  likely  to  arise,  among  them,  you  will, 
I  am  sure,  rejoice  to  have  had  a  share  in  contributing  to  such  an  effect,  and  to  have 
your  name  connected  with  a  work  which  shall  have  produced  it.  At  all  events, 
you  will,  I  am  sure,  give  me  credit  for  good  intentions :  nor  will  you,  I  trust,  be 
either  surprised  or  mortified,  if  I  should  have  to  encounter,  on  this  occasion 
especially,  (the  views  set  forth  being  far  from  flattering  to  human  nature,)  some  of 
that  opposition  of  various  kinds,  and  from  various  quarters,  with  which  many  of 
my  former  publications  have  been  assailed,  and  from  which  yours  have  not  been 
exempt. 

To  myself  this  is  not  a  matter  of  wonder,  or  of  dissatisfaction.  Not  that  I  have 
any  wish  to  excite  controversy ;  or  any  intention  of  ever  engaging  in  it :  but  he 
who  endeavours  to  inculcate  any  neglected  truths,  or  to  correct  any  prevailing 
errors,  must  be  prepared,  if  he  succeed  in  attracting  any  share  of  public  attention, 
to  encounter  more  or  less  of  opposition.  It  would  be  most  extravagant  to  expect 
to  convince  at  once,  if  at  all,  every  one,  or  even  many,  who  before  thought  differ- 
ently. If,  therefore,  in  such  a  case,  he  meet  with  no  opposition,  he  may  take  that 
as  a  sign  either  that  he  has  excited  no  interest  at  all,  or  that  he  was  mistaken  as  to 
the  state  of  the  prevailing  opinions  among  others,  or  that  his  own  have  not  been 
fully  understood.  Opposition  does  not  indeed,  of  itself,  prove  either  that  he  is 
right,  or  that  he  is  wrong:  but,  at  all  events,  the  discussion  which  results,  is 
likely,  if  conducted  with  temper  and  sincerity,  to  lead  to  the  ascertainment  of  the 
truth. 

And  it  is  worth  remarking,  that  in  many  cases  the  opposition  will  appear  even 
greater  than  it  really  is.  For  as  the  great  majority  of  those  who  had  before  thought 
differently  from  an  author,  will,  in  general,  continue  to  think  so,  and  of  course  will 
be  prepared,  at  once,  loudly  to  censure  him;  so  those,  whether  many  or  few,  who 
are  induced  to  alter,  or  to  doubt,  their  former  opinion,  will  seldom  be  found  very 
forward  to  proclaim  the  change,  at  least  till  after  a  considerable  interval.  Even  the 
most  candid  and  modest,  if  they  are  also  cautious,  will  seldom  decidedly  make  up 
their  minds  anew,  except  slowly  and  gradually. 

Hence  it  often  happens,  I  believe,  that  while  men  are  led,  naturally  enough,  to 
estimate  the  effect  produced  by  any  work,  from  the  comparative  numbers  and 
weight  of  those  who  applaud,  and  those  who  censure  it,  it  shall,  in  fact,  have  pro- 
duced little  or  no  effect  on  either:  those  whom  it  may  have  really  influenced,  in 
bringing  them  to  reconsider  their  former  opinions,  being  rather  disposed,  for  the 
Ijnost  part,  to  say  little  about  it. 


DEDICATION.  v 

Such  as  have  maintained  notions  at  variance  with  mine,  in  Christian  meekness*! 
and  candour,  may  be  assured  of  my  perfect  good-will  towards  them,  and  of  my 
earnest  wish  that  whichever  of  us  is  in  the  right,  may  succeed  in  establishing  his 
conclusions.  As  for  any  one  who  may  have  assailed,  or  who  may  hereafter  assai 
me,  with  unchristian  bitterness,  or  with  sophistical  misrepresentation,  much  as  I 
3f  course  lament  that  such  weapons  should  ever  be  employed  at  all,  I  can  truly 
say,  (and  I  doubt  not  you  will  say  the  same  for  yourself,)  that  I  had  far  rather  see 
them  employed  against  me,  than  on  my  side.  There  is  also  this  consolatory 
reflection  for  any  one  who  is  so  attacked:  that  weak  or  sophistical  arguments  are 
then  the  most  likely  to  be  resorted  to,  when  better  cannot  be  found  ;-that  one 
who  indulo-es  in  invective,  affords  some  kind  of  presumption,  that  he  at  least  can 
find  no  such  reasons  as  are  even  to  himself  satisfactory  ;-and  that  misrepresenta  ion 
is  the  natural  resource  of  those  who  find  the  positions  they  are  determined  to 
oppose,  to  be  such,  that  if  fairly  stated,  and  fully  understood  they  could  not  be 
overthrown.  Such  attacks,  therefore,  tend  rather,  as  far  as  they  go  to  support, 
than  to  weaken,  in  the  judgment  of  rational  inquirers,  the  cause  against  which  they  \ 

irYoueC^ay'  have  observed  too,  that  there  are  some  particular  charges  often  brought, 
without  proof,  against  an  author,  which  are  not  only  unfounded  but  are  occasioned 
by  qualities  the  very  reverse  of  those  imputed.     You  may  have  heard  a  write 
censured  as  "sophistical,"  precisely  because  he  is  not  sophistical ; and  as  "dog- 
matical," because  he  is  not  dogmatical.     With  a  work  that  is .really  sophistical, 
the  obvious  procedure  is,  either  to  pass  it  by  with  contempt  or,  if  the  iallacies  seem 
worth  noticing,  to  detect  and  expose  them.     Bufif  men  find  the  arguments  opposed 
to  them  to  be  such,  that  they  cannot  prove  them  sophistical,  it  is  yet  easy  (ard 
is  not  unnatural)  at  least  to  call  them  so.     The  phrase  "  sophistical  arguments 
accordingly,  is  often  in  reality  equivalent  to,  "such  as  I  would  fain  answer,  but 
cannot"     Not  that  in  such  cases  the  imputation  is  necessarily  insincere,  or  even 
necessarily  false.     One  whose  reasoning  powers  are  not  strong,  may  really  suspect, 
though  he  cannot  point  it  out,  a  latent  fallacy  in  some  argument  which  leads  to  a 
conclusion  he  objects  to;  and  it  may  so  happen  that  his  suspicion  is  right,  and 
that  a  fallacy  may  exist  which  he  has  not  the  skill  to  detect.     But  then,  he  is  no 
justified  in  pronouncing  the  argument  sophistical,  till  he  is  prepared  to  make  good 
the   charge.     A  verdict  without  evidence  must  always  be  unjust,  whether  the* 
accused  be,  in  fact,  innocent  or  guilty. 

Dogmatism  again,  to  speak  strictly,  consists  m  assertions  without  proof 
one  who  does  really  thus  dogmatize,  you  may  have  often  seen  received  with  more 
toleration  than  might  have  been  anticipated.     Those  who  think  with  him,  ofte 
derive  some  degree  of  satisfaction  from  the  confirmation  thus  afforded  to  their 
opinion,  though  not  by  any  fresh  argument,  yet  by  an  implied  assent  to  such  as 
have  convinced  themselves  :  those  again  who  think  differently,  feel  that  the  author 
has  merely  declared  his  sentiments,  and  (provided  his  language  be  not  insolent 
and  overbearing)  has  left  them  in  undisturbed  possession  of  their  own.       lot  so, 
one  who  supports  his  opinions  by  cogent  reasons:  he  seems,  by  so  doing,  to  c 
on  them  either  to  refute  the  arguments,  or  to  alter  their  own  views      And  how- 
ever mildly  he  may  express  himself,  they  are  sometimes  displeased  at  the  mol, 
tation  thus  inflicted,  by  one  who  is  not  content  merely  to  think  as  he  pleases 
leaving  others  to  do  the  same,  but  seems  aiming  to  compel  others  (the  very  word, 
"cogent  "as  applied  to  reasons,  seems  to  denote  this  character)  to  think  with  him, 
whether  they  like  it  or  not.     And  this  displeasure  one  may  often  hear  vented  m 
the  application  of  the  title  "dogmatical;"  which  denotes,  when  so  applied,  the 
exact  reverse  of  dogmatism;  viz.,  that  the  author  is  not  satisfied  with  simply 
declaring  his  own  opinions;  (which  is  really  dogmatism,)  but,  by  the  reasoning 
he  employs,  calls  on  others  to  adopt  them. 

I  am  aware,  however,  that  truth  may  be  advocated,  and  by  sound  arguments,  in 
a  needlessly  offensive  form.  It  has  always  been  my  aim  to  avoid,  as  far  as  may 
be  without  a  sinful  compromise  of  truth,  every  thing  tending  to  excite  hostil, 
feelings,  either  within  or  without  the  pale  of  my  own  church.  And  I  ch<  ah  a 
hope,  that  I  mav  have  done  something  in  the  present  work  towards  softemn! 
feelings  of  the  candid  among  Romanists  and  Protestants  towards  each  other.  1 
have  not  indeed  attempted  this,  by  labouring  to  extenuate  or  explain  away  the 


VI  DEDICATION. 

erroneousness  of  the  Romish  tenets  and  practices ;  because  this  would  imply,  ac- 
cording to  my  views,  a  sacrifice  of  truth.  But  to  trace  those  errors  to  the  principles  of 
our  common  nature,  and,  while  we  strongly  censure  the  faults  themselves,  to  acknow- 
ledge our  own  ever-besetting  danger  of  falling  into  the  like,  is,  I  trust,  a  more 
conciliating,  as  I  am  convinced  it  is  a  truer  view  of  the  subject,  than  to  cast  the 
whole  burden  of  blame  on  a  particular  church,  and  to  exult  in  our  own  supposed 
perfection. 

You  will  recognize  in  the  following  pages  a  series  of  discourses  delivered  before 
the  University,  and  the  whole  or  the  greater  part  of  which  you  heard.  I  have 
inserted  passages  in  several  parts ;  but  have  made,  on  the  whole,  little  other  alter- 
ations. It  would  not  have  been  difficult  to  give  the  work  more  of  a  systematic 
form,  and  to  adopt  a  style  more  removed  from  that  which  is  suited  to  delivery ; 
but  I  was  inclined  to  think,  that  such  alterations  would  have  had  no  tendency  to 
make  the  subject  better  understood,  and  might  rather  have  lessened  the  interest  of 
it.  I  accordingly  determined  to  print  the  whole  very  nearly  as  it  was  delivered. 

The  views  I  have  taken  are  not  anticipated  in  any  work  I  am  acquainted  with. 
Several  writers  indeed  have  glanced  slightly,  incidentally  and  partially,  at  the 
principle  here  attempted  to  be  established,  or  have  advanced  some  steps  towards  it. 
Bp.  Lavington  has  compared  a  part  of  the  Romish  errors  with  those  of  some  modern 
enthusiasts;  and  Middleton,  another  part,  with  those  of  the  ancient  Pagans;  but 
they  have  stopped  short  of  the  general  conclusion  to  which  my  own  observations 
and  reflections,  combined  with  yours,  have  led  me. 

I  have,  however,  availed  myself,  in  several  instances,  of  the  suggestions  of  various 
writers ;  to  whom,  as  far  as  rny  memory  would  serve,  I  have  made  reference.  It 
so  happens  that  some  of  these,  including  yourself,  are  living  authors  whom  I  have 
the  pleasure  of  knowing  personally :  and  J  am  not  sure  that  I  may  not,  on  that 
ground,  incur  censure  for  citing  them  with  approbation;  as  if  I  must  unavoidably 
be  biassed  by  partial  feelings.  I  would  rather,  however,  incur  the  suspicion  of 
such  partiality,  than  of  not  daring  to  do  that  justice  to  a  friend  which  would  be  due 
to  a  stranger.  And  it  should  in  fairness  be  remembered,  that  though  it  is  very 
possible  to  overrate  a  friend,  yet,  as  it  is  also  possible  that  a  writer  of  real  merit 
may  possess  personal  friends,  so,  it  would  be  hard  that  this  should  necessarily 
operate  to  his  disadvantage,  by  precluding  them  from  bearing  just  testimony  in  his 
favour. 

Once  more  I  intreat  you  to  accept  my  apology  for  the  liberty  I  have  taken,  and 
to  believe  me, 

With  deep-felt  esteem  and  veneration, 

Your  faithful  and  affectionate  friend, 

RICHARD  WHATELY. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP.  I. 

OF  SUPERSTITION. 

§.  1.  Apparent  strangeness  of  the  transgres- 
sions of  the  Israelites,  9.  Difficulty  of 
rightly  estimating  the  temptations  of  those 
far  removed  from  us,  10. 

§.  2.  Lessons  to  be  learned  from  the  example 
of  the  church  of  Rome,  1 1 .  Errors  of 
that  church  gradual  and  imperceptible  in 
their  rise,  1 1 . 

§.  3.  Principal  Romish  errors ;  Superstition, 

11.  Fondness  for  speculative  mysteries, 

12,  and  for  vicarious  service  of  God,  12. 
Sanction  given  to  deceit,  12.    Claim  to 
infallibility,  12.     Persecution,  13.     Con- 
fidence in' the  title  of  Catholic,  13. 

§.  4.  Danger  of  falling  into  corresponding 
faults,  13. 

}.  5.  Resemblance  between  the  superstitions 
of  the  Israelites  and  of  the  Romanists,  14. 
Definition  of  superstition,  15.  Security 
against  it,  16. 

§.  6.  Mischiefs  of  superstition,  17. 

§.  7.  Connexion  of  superstition  with  pro- 
faneness,  18. 

§.  8.  Occasions  of  superstition,  19. 

§.  &.  Superstitious  belief  in  miracles,  21. 
Superstitions  connected  with  the  eucha- 
risv.,  22.  With  baptism,  22.  With  prayer, 
22.  With  rites  of  interment,  25. 

§.  10.  Cautions  to  be  used  against  the  in- 
roads of  superstition,  25. 

CHAP.  II. 

OF  VICARIOUS  RELIGION. 

§.  1.  Character  of  Christian  mysteries,  27. 
Natural  tendency  to  set  up  two  kinds  of 
religion ;  for  the  priests,  and  for  the  people, 
28.  Speculative  theology  of  philosophiz- 
ing divines,  28. 

§.  2.  Real  origin  and  progress  of  priestcraft, 
29. 

§.  3.  Distinct  characters  of  Hiereus  and  Pres- 
byteros,  31. 

§.  4.  Offices  of  the  Jewish  and  the  Pagan 
priests,  32. 

§.  5.  Character  and  offices  of  Christian  mi- 
nisters, 33. 

§.  6.  Mistakes  and  misrepresentations  arising 
from  confounding  the  two  offices,  34. 

§.  7.  Change  of  the  Christian  priesthood  by 
the  church  of  Rome,  35. 

§.  8.  Tendency  to  discountenance  the  educa- 
tion of  the  poor,  36.  Mistakes  as  to  what 


is  meant  by  embracing  Christianity,  36, 

and  as  to  the  relation  of  pastors  and  flocks, 

38. 
§.  9.  Proneness  of  the  people  to  vicarious 

religion,  38. 
§.  10.  Professional  distinctions  between  cler- 

fy  and  laity,  how  far  desirable,  39. 
1 .  Mistakes  as  to  what  is  a  good  example, 
40. 

CHAP.  III. 

OF  PIOUS  FRAUDS. 

§.  1.  Deceit  employed  by  the  Jews  against 
the  Christians,  41. 

§.  2.  Tendency  to  justify  frauds  employed  for 
a  good  end,  42. 

§.  3.  Connexion  of  this  fault  with  the  one 
treated  of  in  the  foregoing  chapter,  43. 
Self-deceit  the  final  result,  43. 

§.  4.  Difficulty  of  appreciating  the  strength 
of  the  temptations  to  falsehood  in  times 
or  countries  remote  from  pur  own,  44. 
Importance  of  a  vivid  imagination,  in  the 
study  of  history,  45. 

§.  5.  Division  of  frauds  into  negative  and 
positive :  and  again,  into  falsehood  in 
what  is  maintained,  and  in  the  reasons 
by  which  it  is  maintained,  45. 

§.  6.  Illustrations  from  conceivable  cases  of 
temptation  to  deceit;  in  keeping  up  the 
pretension  to  inspiration,  46.  In  con- 
niving at  false  grounds  for  right  belief,  46, 
or  for  right  practice,  47.  In  administer- 
ing groundless  consolations,  &c.  47. 

§.  7.  Ultimate  inexpediency  of  fraud,  48. 

CHAP.  IV. 

OF  UNDUE  RELIANCE  ON  HUMAN  AUTHORITY. 

§.  1.  Claim  of  the  Romish  church  to  infalli- 
bility, not  originally  the  consequence  of 
misinterpretation  of  Scripture  texts,  49. 

§.  2.  Reasoning  and  texts  of  Scripture  often 
called  in  to  justify  practices  or  opinions 
previously  subsisting,  50. 

§.  3.  Natural  tendency  to  appeal  to  an  in- 
fallible guide,  51. 

§.  4.  Presumption  in  favour  of  the  tenets  of 
the  wise  and  good,  or  of  the  Catholic 
church,  52. 

§.  5.  Alleged  claim  of  infallibility  by  Pro- 
testant churches,  53.  Refuted,  54.  Am- 
biguity of  the  word  "authority,"  55. 

§.  6.  Evil  consequences  of  the  claim  to  in- 
fallibility, 55.  Danger  of  Protestants  on 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


this  point,  55.  Office  of  churches  to  sup- 
ply what  the  sacred  writers  purposely 
omitted,  56.  Reasons  for  the  omission,  56. 

§.  7.  Arguments  in  favour  of  an  habitual  ap- 
peal to  human  formularies,  57.  Answered, 
57.  Dangers  of  the  practice,  58. 

§.  8.  Temptations  to  set  up  a  virtual  claim 
to  infallibility,  59. 

CHAP.  V. 

OF  PERSECUTION. 

§.  1.  Men  responsible  to  God,  and  to  him 
alone,  for  the  rejection  of  divine  truth,  61, 
and  only  in  the  next  life,  61. 

§.  2.  Importance  of  right  principles  for  avoid- 
ing the  two  errors,  of  intolerance,  and  in- 
difference, 62. 

§.  3.  Mistakes  as  to  what  constitutes  the  spi- 
rit of  persecution ;  which  does  not  consist 
either  in  the  tenet  that  the  salvation  of 
heretics  is  impossible,  63.  Or  in  main- 
taining the  wrong  side,  64.  Or  in  exces- 
sive severity,  64.  Or  in  revengeful  mo- 
tives, 65.  Or  in  punishing  opinions,  65. 
Or  in  actual  infliction  of  punishment,  65. 

§.  4.  How  heretics  are  to  be  treated,  con- 
formably with  the  character  of  Christ's 
kingdom,  66.  Attempts  to  explain  away 
his  declarations  and  precepts,  67. 

§.  5.  Scriptural  arguments  against  intole- 
rance, to  be  preferred,  for  popular  use,  68. 

§.  6.  Blindness  of  many  reasoners  to  the  ab- 
stract arguments  against  it,  69. 

§.  7.  Causes  of  the  greater  hostility  often 
felt  against  infidels  and  heretics,  than 
against  the  vicious,  69.  Comparative  un- 
frequency  of  avowed  infidelity,  70.  Sup- 
port derived  from  authority,  shaken,  70. 
Personal  affront  to  the  Christian's  under- 
standing, implied  by  the  infidel,  71.  Sus- 
picion of  moral  corruption  as  biassing  the 
infidel's  judgment,  71. 

§.  8.  Extent  and  influence  of  this  hostile 
feeling,  71. 

§.  9.  Reasons  for  believing  that  anti-chris- 


tians  would  be  tempted  into  persecution, 
73.  True  Christianity  the  only  effectual 
security  against  it,  74. 
§.  10.  What  things  are  liable  to  be  falsely 
regarded  as  necessarily  implying  intole- 
rance; refusing  to  admit,  in  every  case, 
the  plea  of  conscience,  74.  Union  of  civil 
with  spiritual  or  ecclesiastical  office,  75. 
Requisition  of  a  certain  religious  persua- 
sion as  a  condition  of  personal  friendship, 
or  of  any  thing  to  which  there  existed 
previously  no  claim  of  right,  76.  Defence 
against  aggression,  78.  Which  must  not, 
however,  be  expected  to  exempt  the  sin- 
cere Christian  from  mortifying  opposi- 
tion, 78. 

CHAP.  VI. 

OF  TRUST  IN   NAMES  AND  PRIVILEGES. 

§.  1.  Disposition  of  the  ancient  Jews  to  rely 
on  their  privileges  and  titles,  79. 

§.  2.  Tendency  to  the  same  fault  in  the 
primitive  Christians,  80. 

§.  3.  Exemplification  of  the  universality  of 
this  tendency,  from  the  Romish  church, 
81. 

§.  4.  Danger  of  a  corresponding  nature  ex- 
ists equally  among  Protestants,  82. 

§.  5.  Recapitulation  of  the  several  points  in 
which  we  may  take  warning  from  the 
example  of  the  Romanists,  83. 

§.  6.  Cautions  to  be  used  in  guarding  against 
undue  reliance  on  the  sanctity  of  the  titles 
we  bear,  and  the  societies  we  belong 
to,  84. 

APPENDIX. 

[A.]  On  the  application  of  the  term  CATHO- 
LIC to  designate  "a  member  of  the  church 
of  Rome,"  86. 

[B.]  On  "  Self-righteousness,"  and  ocher 
kinds  of  spiritual-pride,  88.  fc  Auricular 
confession,"  91 .  Impossibility  of  framing 
such  a  self-preserving  system,  as  shall 
supersede  personal  vigilance,  91. 


THE 


ERRORS  OF  ROMANISM 


TRACED   TO 


THEIR  ORIGIN  IN  HUMAN  NATURE, 


CHAP.  I. 
SUPERSTITION. 


§.  1.  THERE  are  few  things  probably 
that  appear  at  the  first  glance  more  strange 
to  a  reader  of  the  Old  Testament,  than 
the  frequent  lapses  of  the  Israelites  into 
idolatrous  and  other  superstitious  prac- 
tices ; — the  encouragement  or  connivance 
often  granted  to  these  by  such  of  the  rulers 
as  were  by  no  means  altogether  des- 
titute of  piety ; — and  the  warm  commen- 
dations which  are  accordingly  bestowed 
on  such  of  their  kings  as  avoided  and  re- 
pressed these  offences.  Their  law  had 
been  delivered  and  its  authority  main- 
tained with  such  strikingly  awful  solem- 
nity, and  its  directions  were  so  precise 
and  minute,  that  a  strict  conformity  to  it 
appears,  to  us,  hardly  to  amount  to  a  vir- 
tue, and  the  violation  of  it,  to  an  almost 
incredible  infatuation.  It  is  not  without 
a  considerable  mental  effort  that  we  can 
so  far  transport  ourselves  into  the  situa- 
tion of  persons  living  in  so  very  different  a 
condition  of  society  from  our  own,  as  to 
estimate  duly  the  nature  and  the  force  of 
the  temptations  to  which  they  were  ex- 
posed, to  make  fair  allowance  for  their 
backslidings,  and  to  bestow  adequate  ap- 
plause on  those  of  them  who  adhered 
steadfastly  to  the  divine  commands. 

The  conduct  of  Hezekiah,  for  instance, 
who  "  removed  the  high-places,  and  brake 
the  images,  and  cut  down  the  groves,  and 
broke  in  pieces  the  brazen  serpent  that 
Moses  had  made ;  (for  unto  those  days 
the  children  of  Israel  did  burn  incense  to 
it ;)  is  likely  perhaps  to  strike  some 
readers  as  so  far  from  being  any  heroic 
effort  of  virtue,  that  the  chief  wonder  is, 
how  his  predecessors  and  their  subjects 
could  have  been  so  strangely  remiss  and 
disobedient,  as  to  leave  him  so  much  to 
do.  Things  however  being  in  such  a 
state,  the  duty  of  remedying  at  once  the 
2 


abuses  which  had  grown  up,  is  apt  to 
strike  us,  at  first  sight,  as  so  very  obvious 
and  imperative,  that  we  are  hardly  dis- 
posed to  give  him  due  praise  for  fulfilling 
it.  But  the  more  attentively  we  consider 
the  times  in  which  he  lived,  and  the  pe- 
culiar circumstances  in  which  he  began 
his  reign — the  successor  of  an  idolatrous 
prince,  and  reigning  over  an  idolatrous 
people — the  higher  admiration  we  shall 
feel  for  his  exemplary  obedience  to  the 
divine  law. 

It  should  be  remembered,  that  not  only 
the  avowed  violators  of  the  first  com- 
mandment, but  those  also,  who,  though 
they  transgressed  the  second,  yet  professed 
themselves  the  worshippers  of  Jehovah 
exclusively,  would  be  likely  to  tax  with 
impiety  that  unsparing  reform  of  abuses, 
which  even  those  former  kings,  who  are 
described  as  "  doing  that  which  was  right 
in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,"  had  yet  not 
ventured  to  undertake.  Indeed  his  enemy, 
Sennacherib,  reproaches  him  on  this  very 
ground :  "  If  ye  say,  We  trust  in  the 
Lord  our  God,  is  not  that  he  whose  high- 
places  and  whose  altars  Hezekiah  hath 
taken  away  ?" 

But  many,  even  of  those  who  perhaps 
endured  his  putting  a  stop  to  the  irregular 
and  unauthorized  worship  of  Jehovah  in 
those  high-places,  might  yet  be  scandalized 
at  his  venturing  to  destroy  the  brazen  ser- 
pent; an  emblem  framed  originally  by 
divine  command,  and  which  had  been  the 
appointed  and  supernatural  means  of  a 
miraculous  deliverance.  If  such  a  relic 
were  even  now  in  existence,  and  its  iden- 
tity indisputable,  it  would  not  be  contem- 
plated, by  any  believer  in  the  Mosaic  his- 
tory, without  some  degree  of  veneration. 
How  much  stronger  would  that  venera- 
tion be  in  the  mind  of  an  Israelite,  and 

9 


10 


SUPERSTITION. 


of  one  in  that  ignorant  and  semi-barba-  \ /contemplating    human    transactions,  the 

law  of   optics  is   reversed ;  we  see  the 


rous  age.      Yet  one  of  these  was  found 


sufficiently  enlightened  to  estimate  the 
evil,  and  bold  enough  to  use  the  effectual 
remedy.  The  king  is  not  content  to  for- 
bid this  idolatrous  use  of  the  image,  or 
even  to  seclude  it  carefully  from  the  pub- 
lic gaze  ;  it  had  been  an  occasion  of  su- 
perstition, and  he  "  brake  it  in  pieces ;" 
applying  to  it  at  the  same  time  the  con- 
temptuous appellation  of  "  piece  of 
brass,"*  in  order  to  destroy  more  com- 
pletely that  reverence  which  had  degene- 
rated into  a  sin. 

p~    Men  are  apt,  not  only  in  what  regards 
religion,  but  in  respect  of  all  human  con- 
cerns, to  contemplate  the  faults  and  fol- 
lies of  a  distant  age  or  country,  with  bar- 
ren wonder,  or   with  self-congratulating 
contempt ;  while  they  overlook,  because 
they   do   not  search  for,  perhaps  equal, 
and  even  corresponding  vices  and  absurdi- 
ties in  their  own  conduct.     And  in  thi 
way  it  is  that  the  religious,  and    moral, 
and  political  lessons,  which  history  may 
be  made  to  furnish,  are  utterly  lost  to  the 
generality  of  mankind.     Human  nature  is 
always  and  every  where,  in  the  most  im- 
portant points,   substantially  the    same; 
circumstantially   and    externally,    men's 
manners  and  conduct  are  infinitely  vari- 
ous, in  various  times  and   regions.     If 
the  former  were  not  true — if  it  were  not 
for  this  fundamental  agreement — history 
could  furnish  no  instruction ;  if  the  lat- 
ter were  not  true — if  there  were  not  these 
apparent  and  circumstantial  differences — 
hardly  any  one  could  fail  to  profit  by  that 
instruction.     For  few  are  so  dull  as  not 
to  learn  something  from  the  records  of 
past  experience,  in  cases  precisely  similar 
to  their  own.     But,  as  it  is,  much  candour 
and  diligence  are  called  for  in  tracing  the 
analogy  between  cases  which,  at  the  first 
glance,  seem  very  different — in  observ- 
ing  the  workings   of   the   same   human 
nature  under  all  its  various  disguises — in 
recognizing,  as  it  were,  the  same  plant  in 
different  stages  of  its  growth,  and  in  all 
the  varieties  resulting  from  climate  and 
culture,  soil  and  season. 

But  to  any  one  who  will  employ  this 
diligence  and  candour,  this  very  dissimi- 
larity of  circumstances  renders  the  his- 
tory of  past  times  and  distant  countries 
even  the  more  instructive ;  because  it  is 
easier  to  form  an  impartial  judgment  con- 
cerning them.  The  difficulty  is  to  apply 
that  judgment  to  the  cases  before  us.  In 


"  He  called  it  Nehushtan."     2  Kings  xviii.  4. 


most  indistinctly  the  objects  which  are 
close  around  us ;  we  view  them  through 
the  discoloured  medium  of  our  own  preju- 
dices and  passions  ;  the  more  familiar  we 
are  with  them,  the  less  truly  do  we  estimate 
their  real  colours  and  dimensions.   Trans- 
actions and  characters  the  most  uncon- 
nected with  ourselves — the  most  remote 
from  all  that  presents  itself  in  our  own 
times,  and  at  home,  appear  before  us  with 
all  their  deformities  unveiled,  and  display 
their  intrinsic  and  essential  qualities.    We 
are  even  liable  to  attend  so  exclusively  to 
this  intrinsic  and  abstract  character  of  re- 
mote events,  as  to  make  too  little  allow- 
ance (while  in  recent  cases  we  make  too 
much)  for  the  circumstances  in  which  the 
agents  were  placed  ;  and  thence  to  regard 
as  instances  of  almost  incredible  folly  or 
depravity,  things  not  fundamentally  very 
^different  from  what  is  passing  around  us. 
And  as  the  law  of  optics  is  in  this  case 
reversed,  our  procedure  must  be  reversed 
accordingly.     We  judge  of  the  nature  of 
distant   objects,  by   an    examination    of 
those  near  at  hand,  whose  similarity  to 
the  others  we  have  ascertained.     So  also 
must  we  on  the  contrary  learn  to  judge 
impartially  of  our  own  conduct  and  cha- 
racter, and  of  the  events  of  our  own  times, 
by  finding  parallels  to  these  in  cases  the 
most  remote  and  apparently  dissimilar; 
of  which,  for  that  reason,  our  views  are 
the  most  distinct,  and  our  judgments  the 
most   unbiassed ;  and  then,  conjecturing 
what  a  wise  and  good  man,  ten   centu- 
ries hence,  would  be  likely  to  pronounce 
of  us. 

The  errors  and  the  vices,  among  the 
rest,  the  superstitions  of  the  Israelites,  and 
again  of  our  ancestors  under  the  Romish 
Church,  did  not,  we  may  be  sure,  appear 
to  them  in  the  same  light  that  they  now 
do  to  us.  No  one  believes  his  own  opi- 
lions  to  be  erroneous,  or  his  own  prac- 
;ices  superstitious ;  few  are  even  accus- 
tomed to  ask  themselves,  "  Is  there  not  a 
ie  in  my  right  hand  ?"  Since  therefore 
our  predecessors  did  not  view  their  doc- 
trines and  practices  in  the  same  light  that 
we  do,  this  should  lead  us,  not  to  regard 
them  with  contemptuous  astonishment 
nd  boastful  exultation,  but  rather  to  re- 
flect that,  like  them,  we  also  are  likely  to 
brm  a  wrong  estimate  of  what  is  around 
us  and  familiar  to  our  minds :  it  should 
;each  us  to  make  use  of  the  examples  of 
others,  not  for  the  nourishment  of  pride, 
but  for  the  detection  of  our  own  faults. 


SUPERSTITION. 


H 


We  are  taught  that  Satan  "  transformeth 
himself  into  an  angel  of  light;  but  he 
does  not  use  always  and  every  where  the 
same  disguise;  as  soon  as  one  is  seen 
through,  he  is  ready  to  assume  another ; 
and  it  is  in  vain  that  we  detect' the  arti- 
fice which  has  done  its  work  on  other  men, 
unless  we  are  on  our  guard  against  the 
same  tempter  under  some  new  trans- 
formation; assuming  afresh  among  our- 
selves the  appearance  of  some  angel  of  light. 

§.  2.  These  reflections  are  perhaps  the 
more  particularly  profitable  at  the  present 
time,  on  account  of  the  especial  attention 
which  has  of  late  been  directed  to  the 
superstitions,  and  other  errors  and  enor- 
mities, of  the  Romish  church.  Unless 
such  principles  as  I  have  adverted  to  are 
continually  present  to  the  mind,  the  more 
our  thoughts  are,  by  frequent  discussion, 
turned  to  the  errors  of  that  church,  and 
to  the  probability,  under  this  or  that  con- 
juncture of  circumstances,  of  proselytes 
joining  that  church  or  being  gained  over 
from  it,  the  less  shall  we  be  on  our  guard 
against  the  spirit  of  popery  in  the  human 
heart — against  similar  faults  in  some  dif- 
ferent shapes;  and  the  more  shall  we  be 
apt  to  deem  every  danger  of  the  kind  ! 
effectually  escaped,  by  simply  keeping' 
ou»  of  the  pale  of  that  corrupt  church. 

It  is  indeed  in  all  cases  profitable  to  : 
contemplate  the  errors  of  other  men,  if  | 
we  do  this  "  not  high-minded  but  fear-  j 
ful ;" — not  for  the  sake  of  uncharitable  ! 
triumph,  but  with  a  view  to  self-examina-  ; 
tion ;  even  as  the  Corinthians  were  ex- 
horted by  their  apostle  to  draw  instruction  j 
from  the  backslidings  of  the   Israelites, 
which  were  recorded,  he  says, "  for  their 
admonition,"  to  the  intent  that  they  might 
not  fall  into  corresponding  sins,  and  that  I 
"  he  who  thought  he  stood  might  take  j 
heed  lest  he  fell."     In  all   cases,  I  say, 
some  benefit  may  be  derived  from  such  a 
contemplation  of  the  faults  of  others;  but 
the  errors  of  the  Romanists,  if  examined 
with  a  view  to  our  own  improvement, 
will  the  more  effectually  furnish  this  in- 
struction, inasmuch  as  those  errors,  more 
especially,  will  be  found  to  be  the  natural 
and  spontaneous  growth   of  the  human 
heart;  they  are  (as  I  have  elsewhere  re- 
marked) not  so  much  the  effect,  as  the 
cause,  of  the  Romish  system  of  religion. 
The  peculiar  character  of  Romanism,  in 
this  respect,  will  be  best  perceived  by 
contrasting   it   with    Mahometism;    this 
latter  system  was  framed,  and  introduced, 
and  established,  within  a  very  short  space 
of  time,  by  a  deliberately  designing  im- 


postor; who  did  indeed  most  artfully 
accommodate  that  system  to  man's  nature, 
but  did  not  wait  for  the  gradual  and 
spontaneous  operations  of  human  nature 
to  produce  it.  He  reared  at  once  the 
standard  of  proselytism,  and  imposed  on 
his  followers  a  code  of  doctrines  and 
laws  ready  framed  for  their  reception. 
The  tree  which  he  planted  did  indeed 
find  a  congenial  soil;  but  he  planted  it  at 
once,  with  its  trunk  full-formed  and  its 
branches  displayed :  the  Romish  system, 
on  the  contrary,  rose  insensibly,  like  a 
young  plant  from  the  seed,  making  a  pro- 
gress scarcely  perceptible  from  year  to 
year,  till  at  length  it  had  fixed  its  root 
deeply  in  the  soil,  and  spread  its  baneful 
shade  far  around. 

Infecunda  quidem,  sed  laeta  et  fortiasurgunt ; 
Quippe  solo  natura  subest  j 

It  was  the  natural  offspring  of  man's  frail 
and  corrupt  character,  and  it  needed  no 
sedulous  culture.  No  one  accordingly 
can  point  out  any  precise  period  at  which 
this  u  mystery  of  iniquity" — the  system 
of  Romish  corruptions — first  began,  or 
specify  any  person  who  introduced  it: 
no  one  in  fact  ever  did  introduce  any  such 
system :  the  corruptions  crept  in  one  by 
one;  originating  for  the  most  part  with  an 
ignorant  and  depraved  people,  but  con- 
nived at,  cherished,  consecrated  and  suc- 
cessfully established,  by  a  debased  and 
worldly-minded  ministry;  and  modified 
by  them  just  so  far  as  might  best 
favour  the  views  of  their  profligate  am- 
bition. But  the  system  thus  gradually 
compacted,  was  not  the  deliberate  con- 
trivance of  any  one  man  or  set  of  men, 
adepts  in  priestcraft,  and  foreseeing  and 
designing  the  entire  result.  The  cor- 
ruptions of  the  Romish  church  were  the 
natural  offspring  of  human  passions,  not 
checked  and  regulated  by  those  who 
ought  to  have  been  ministers  of  the 
Gospel,  but  who,  on  the  contrary,  were 
ever  ready  to  indulge  and  encourage 
men's  weakness  and  wickedness,  pro- 
vided they  could  turn  it  to  their  own  ad- 
vantage. The  good  seed  "  fell  among 
thorns ;"  which,  being  fostered  by  those 
who  should  have  been  occupied  in  root- 
ing them  out,  not  only  "  sprang  up  with 
it,"  but  finally  choked  and  overpowered  it. 

§.  3.  The  character  accordingly  of  the 
Romish  corruptions  is  precisely  such  as 
the  history  of  that  church  would  lead  us 
to  anticipate. 

I.  One  of  the  greatest  blemishes,  for 
instance,  in  the  church  of  Rome,  is  that 


12 


SUPERSTITION. 


to  which  I  have  already  alluded,  super- 
stitious worship;  a  fault  which  every 
one  must  acknowledge  to  be  the  sponta- 
neous and  every-where-abundant  produce 
of  the  corrupt  soil  of  man's  heart.  The 
greater  part  indeed  of  the  errors  of  Ro- 
manism, which  I  shall  hereafter  notice 
under  separate  heads,  may  be  considered 
as  so  many  branches  of  superstition,  or 
at  least  inseparably  connected  with  it; 
but  there  are  besides  many  superstitions 
more  strictly  so  called,  with  which  that 
system  is  justly  chargeable;  such  as  in- 
vocation of  saints,  and  adoration  of 
images  and  relics ;  corresponding  to  that 
idolatrous  practice  which  King  Hezekiah 
so  piously  and  boldly  suppressed. 

II.  The  desire  again  of  prying  into  mys- 
teries relative  to  the  invisible  world,  out 
which  have  no  connexion  with  practice, 
is  another  characteristic  of  human  nature, 
(on  which  I  have  elsewhere  offered  some 
remarks,*)  and  one  to  which  may  be 
traced  the  immense  mass  of  presumptu- 
ous speculations  about  things  unrevealed, 
respecting  God  and  his  designs,  and  of 
idle  legends  of  various  kinds  respecting 
wonder-working  saints,  which  have  dis- 
graced the  Romish  church.  The  sanc- 
tion afforded  to  these,  by  persons  who 
did  not  themselves  believe  them,  is  a  fault 
referable  to  another  head,  (to  be  men- 
tioned subsequently,)  as  springing  from  a 
dishonest  pursuit  of  the  expedient  rather 
than  the  true :  but  it  is  probable  that  the 
far  greater  part  of  such  idle  tales  had  not 
their  origin  in  any  deep  and  politic  con- 
trivance, but  in  men's  natural  passion  for 
what  is  marvellous,  and  readiness  to  cater 
for  that  passion  in  each  other ; — in  the 
universal  fondness  of  the  human  mind  for 
speculative  knowledge  respecting  things 
curious  and  things  hidden,  rather  than 
(what  alone  the  Scriptures  supply)  practi- 
cal knowledge  respecting  things  which 
have  a  reference  to  our  wants. 

Equally  natural  to  man,  and  closely 
connected,  as  will  hereafter  be  shown, 
with  the  error  just  mentioned,  is  the  dis- 
position to  trust  in  vicarious  worship  and 
obedience — the  desire  and  hope  of  trans- 
ferring from  one  man  to  another  the  merit 
of  good  works,  and  the  benefit  of  devo- 
tional exercises ;  so  as  to  enable  the  mass 
of  the  people  to  serve  God,  as  it  were,  by 
proxy.  On  this  point  I  have  elsewheref 
offered  some  remarks,  (which  are  expanded 
and  followed  up  in  the  present  work,) 

*  Essay  IV.  First  series, 
•j-  In  the  last  of  the  Five  Discourses  delivered 
before  the  University,  and  subsequently  published. 


with  a  view  to  show  that  it  is  the  main 
cause,  rather  than  the  consequence,  of  the 
whole  Romish  system  of  priestcraft ;  one  of 
the  great  features  of  which  is,  the  change 
of  the  very  office  of  the  Christian  priest, 
n%t<7@vTE£o<;,  into  that  of  the  Jewish  or 
Pagan  priest,  in  the  other  sense  of  the 
word,  answering  to  'it^.vq.  I  observed 
that  the  people  were  very  easily  deceived 
in  this  point,  because  they  were  eagerly 
craving  for  deception; — that  the  same 
disposition  had  manifested  itself  no  less 
strongly  among  the  Pagan  nations  ; — and 
that  the  same  tendency  is,  and  ever  will 
be,  breaking  out  in  one  shape  or  another, 
among  Protestants,  and  in  every  form  of 
religion. 

III.  No  less  characteristic  of  the  na- 
tural man,  is  a  vicious  preference  of  sup- 
posed  expediency,  to  truth ;  and  a  con- 
sequent readiness  to  employ  false  reasons 
for  satisfying  the  minds  of  the  people ; — 
to  connive  at,  or  foster,  supposed  salutary 
or  innocent  delusions  ;  whence  arose  the 
sanction  given  to  all  the  monstrous  train 
of  pious  frauds,  legendary  tales,  and  lying 
miracles,  for  which  the  Romish  church 
has  been  so  justly  stigmatized.     And  as  it 
is  notorious  that  the  ancient  lawgivers 
and  philosophers  encouraged  (for  political 
purposes)  a  belief  in   the   mythological 
fables  which  they  themselves  Disbelieved, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  disposition 
also  is  not  to  be  attributed   to  the  church 
of  Rome  as  its  cause,  but  that  that  church 
merely  furnishes  one  set  of  instances  of 
its    effects;    and   that,  consequently,  an 
earnest  watchfulness  against  those  effects 
is  to  be  inculcated,  not  merely  on  such  as 
may  be  in  danger  of  being  misled  into 
Romanism,  but  on  every  descendant  of 
Adam. 

IV.  Again,  no  one  perhaps  of  the  errors 
of  the  Romish  church  has  exposed  her  to 
greater  censure,  or  has  been  productive 
of  more   mischievous   results,  than  the 
claim  to  infallibility; — the  investing,  with- 
out any  sufficient  grounds,  weak  and  falli- 
ble men  with  an  attribute  of  Deity.    Now 
the  ready  acquiescence  in  such  an  ex- 
travagant claim  (which  never  could  have 
been  maintained  had  not  men  been  found 
thus  ready  to  acquiesce  in  it)  may  easily 
be  traced  to  the  principles  of  our  corrupt 
nature  ; — to  that  indolence  in  investiga- 
tion, indifference  about  truth,*  and  ready 
acquiescence  in  what  is  put  before  us,  of 


rr<; 


t    ITT* 


which  the  Greek  historian  complained 
long  before  the  Christian  era  ;  and  to  that 
dislike  of  suspense — and  consequent  will- 
ingness to  make  a  short  and  final  appeal 
to  some  authority  which  should  be  re- 
garded as  decisive,  with  a  view  to  quash 
disputes,  and  save  the  labour  of  inquiry. 
That  such  a  disposition  is  not  at  least 
peculiar  to  the  votaries  of  the  religion  of 
Rome,  or  confined  even  to  religious  sub- 
jects, is  evident  from  the  appeals  of  pre- 
tended students  in  philosophy  to  the  de- 
cisions of  Pythagoras,  and  subsequently 
of  Aristotle,  as  precluding  all  further  dis- 
pute or  doubt.  It  is  for  Protestants  there- 
fore to  remember,  that  they  are  not  se- 
cured by  the  mere  circumstance  of  their 
being  such,  from  all  danger  of  indulging 
this  disposition.  There  is  indeed  no 
danger  of  their  appealing  to  the  church 
of  Rome  as  an  infallible  authority  to  put 
a  stop  to  all  discussion ;  but  the  removal 
of  that  particular  danger  should  only  put 
us  the  more  on  our  guard  against  the 
same  fault  (as  it  is  a  fault  of  our  common 
nature)  breaking  out  in  some  new  shape. 

V.  One  of  the  heaviest  charges  against 
the  Romish  church  may  be  added  to  those 
already  alluded  to — the  spirit  of  persecu- 
tion ;  which  is  as  far  as  any  of  her  other 
enormities  from   being   peculiar  to    that 
church,  or  even  to  the  case  of  religion : 
witness,  among  many  other  instances,  the 
furious  and  bitter  spirit  shown  by  the 
Nominalists  and  Realists  in  their  contests 
concerning  abstruse  points  of  metaphysics. 
The  Romish  system  did  not  properly  in- 
troduce intolerance,  but  rather,  it  was  in- 
tolerance that  introduced  and  established 
the  system  of  Romanism ;    and  that  (in 
another  part  of  the  world)  no  less  suc- 
cessfully called  in  the  sword  for  the  esta- 
blishment of  Mahometism.     So  congenial 
indeed  to  "  the  natural  man"  is  the  resort 
to  force  for  the  establishment  of  one  sys- 
tem of  doctrines  and  the  suppression  of 
another,  that  we   find   many  of  the  re- 
formers, after  they  had  clearly  perceived 
nearly  all  the  other  errors  in  which  they 
had  been  brought  up,  yet  entertaining  no 
doubt  whatever  as  to  the  right,  and  the 
duty,  of  maintaining  religious  truth  by 
coercive  means. 

VI.  Another  tendency,  as  conspicuous 
as  those  above  mentioned  in  the  Romish 
church,  and,  like  its  other  errors,  by  no 
means  confined  to  that  church,  is  the  con- 
fident security  with  which  the  Catholics, 
as  they  call  themselves,  trust  in  that  name, 
as  denoting  their  being  members  of  that 
sacred  body,  the  only  true  church,  whose 


SUPERSTITION.  13 

holy  character  and  title  to  divine  favour 
they  seem  to  consider  as  a  kind  of  com- 
mon property,  and  a  safeguard  to  all  her 
I  members  :  even  as  the  Jews  of  old  "  said 
|  within    themselves,   We    are   Abraham's 
children ;"  flattering  themselves  that  on 
that  ground,  however  little  they  might 
resemble  Abraham  in  faith  and  in  works, 
1  God  would  surely  never  cast  them   off. 
|  This  error  is  manifestly  common  to  the 
j  Romanists  with  those  who  put  the  same 
kind  of  trust  in  the  name  of  Protestant  or 
of  Christian,  and  who  regard  their  con- 
nexion with  a  holy  and  richly-endowed 
community,  rather  as  a  substitute  for  per- 
sonal holiness,  than  as  a  motive  for  aiming 
at  a  still  higher  degree  of  it,  and  a  privi- 
lege involving  a  higher  responsibility. 

§  4.  In  treating  of  all  these  points,  I 
shall  adhere  to  the  plan  hitherto  pursued, 
viz.,  of  contemplating  the  errors  of  the 
Romanists,  not  with  a  view  to  our  own 
justification  in  withdrawing  from  their 
communion ;  nor,  again,  for  the  sake  of 
guarding  against  the  danger  of  being  se- 
duced by  their  arguments,  (important  as 
these  objects  may  be ;)  but  with  a  view 
to  what  I  cannot  but  regard  as  the  much 
greater  danger,  of  falling  into  correspond- 
ing errors  to  theirs — of  being  taken  cap- 
tive by  the  same  temptations  under  differ- 
ent forms — of  overlooking,  in  practice, 
the  important  truth,  that  the  spirit  of 
Romanism  is  substantially  the  spirit  of 
human  nature. 

We  are  all  of  us  in  these  days  likely  to 
hear  and  to  read  most  copious  discussions 
of  the  tenets  and  piactices  of  the  church 
of  Rome.  Whatever  may  be  the  views 
of  each  of  my  readers  respecting  the  po- 
litical question  which  has  chiefly  given 
rise  to  these  discussions,  (a  question  which, 
like  all  others  of  a  political  character,  I 
have  always  thought  had  better  be  waived 
in  theological  works,)  I  would  suggest 
these  reflections  as  profitable  to  be  kept 
in  view  by  all,  while  occupied  with  such 
discussions :  how  far  we  are  pure  from 
Romish  errors  in  another  shape; — from 
what  quarters,  and  under  what  disguises, 
we  are  liable  to  be  assailed  by  tempta- 
tions, substantially,  though  not  externally, 
the  same  with  those  which  seduced  into 
all  her  corruptions  the  church  of  Rome ; 
and  which  gradually  changed  her  bridal 
purity  for  the  accumulated  defilements  of 
"  the  mother  of  harlots  ;" — and  how  we 
may  best  guard  against  the  spirit  of  super- 
stition, (of  which,  be  it  remembered,  none, 
even  the  most  superstitious,  ever  suspect 
themselves) — the  spirit  of  persecution — 


14 


SUPERSTITION. 


the  spirit  of  insincerity,  of  fraud,  and  of  j  whereas  what  typically  corresponds  to  it 
indifference  to  truth — in  short,  all  those   in  the  Christian  dispensation  is  (as  our 


evil  propensities  which  are  fitly  charac- 
terized in  one  word  as,  the  spirit  of  Ro- 
manism. All  these  dangers,  as  they  did 
not  begin  with  the  Romish  system,  can- 
not be  expected  to  end  with  it;  they 
emanate  not  from  that  corrupt  church 
alone,  but  from  the  corruption  of  our 
common  nature  ;  and  none  consequently 
are  more  open  to  them,  than  those  who 
are  disposed  to  think  themselves  secured 
by  merely  keeping  out  of  the  pale  of 
that  church,  and  inveighing  against  her 
enormities. 

Such  a  false  security  indeed  is  itself  one 
of  the  worst  of  the  Romish  errors;  that 
of  mistaking  names  for  things,  and  trust- 
ing in  a  specious  title,  without  inquiring 
how  far  we  possess  the  character  which 
that  title  implies.  "He  is  not  a  Jew," 
says  Paul,  "  who  is  one  outwardly,  neither 


Lord  himself  points  out)  not  the  cross  on 
which  he  suffered,  but  the  very  person 
of  the  suffering  Redeemer. 

The  Romanists,  in  paying  a  slavish 
worship  (it  is  their  own  expression,  Sovksia) 
not  only  to  images  and  relics,  but  also 
to  saints,  are  guilty  of  both  those  kinds  of 
superstition,  the  unsparing  suppression  of 
both  of  which  constitutes  the  distinguished 
and  peculiar  merit  of  that  upright  and 
zealous  prince,  Hezekiah.  He  was  not 
satisfied,  like  many  other  kings,  with  put- 
ting down  that  branch  of  superstition 
which  involves  the  breach  of  the  first 
commandment — the  setting  up  of  false 
gods ;  but  was  equally  decisive  in  his  re- 
probation of  the  other  branch  also — the 
worship  of  the  true  God  by  the  medium 
of  prohibited  emblems,  and  with  unauthor- 


ized 


these 


and    superstitious  rites.     Of 

is  that  circumcision  which  is  outward  in  I  two  kinds  of  superstition,  the  latter  is 
the  flesh ;  but  he  is  a  Jew  who  is  one  continually  liable,  in  practice,  to  slide  into 
inwardly ;  and  circumcision  is  that  of  the  former,  by  such  insensible  degrees, 
the  heart,  in  the  spirit  and  not  in  the  let-  j  that  it  is  often  hard  to  decide,  in  particular 
ter ;  whose  praise  is  not  of  men,  but  of  cases,  where  the  breach  of  the  second 


God."  Jt  is  for  us  therefore  ever  to  re- 
member, for  thus  only  can  we  turn  to 
account  the  apostle's  admonition,  that  as 
that  man  was  not,  in  the  sight  of  God,  a 
Jew,  to  any  profitable  purpose  for  himself, 
but  rather  to  his  aggravated  condemnation, 


commandment  ends,  and  that  of  the  first 
begins.  The  distinction  is  not  however 
for  that  reason  useless ;  perhaps  it  is  even 
the  more  useful  on  that  very  account,  and 
was  for  that  reason  preserved  in  those 
two  commandments  ;  of  which  the  second 


who  was  only  outwardly  a  Jew;  so  neither,  serves  as  a  kind  of  outwork  to  the  first, 
by  parity  of  reasoning,  is  he  in  God's  j  to  guard  against  all  gradual  approaches 
sight  a  Christian — a  "  Catholic  Christian"  j  to  a  violation  of  it — to  keep  men  at  a 
— a  "  Protestant" — a  "  Reformed  Chris-  i  distance  from  the  danger  of  infringing  the 
tian — who  is  one  outwardly;  but  he  who  '  majesty  of  the  jealous  God. 
is  reformed  inwardly, — whose  heart  is  I  Accordingly,  besides  the  numerous 
Christian — and  who  protests  not  with  his  |  warnings  which  Moses  gives  the  Israelites 
lips  only,  but  in  his  life — "  in  the  spirit  against  being  seduced  into  worshipping 
and  not  in  the  letter" — against  such  de-  j  the  false  gods  of  the  nations  of  Canaan, 
pravation  of  gospel  truth,  and  departure  j  he  also  cautions  them  not  to  imitate,  in 


from  gospel  holiness,  as  he  censures  in 
his  erring  brethren. 

§.  5.  In  treating  of  superstitious  wor- 
ship, the  point  at  present  more  imme- 
diately before  us,  it  is  worth  remarking, 


their  worship  of  the  Lord,  the  superstitious 
rites  used  by  the  heathen  in  the  service 
of  their  deities.  They  are  forbidden  to 
inquire,  "How  did  these  nations  serve 
their  gods  ?''  and  to  say,  "  Even  so  will 


that  (as  indeed  has  been  already  hinted)  I  do  likewise.  Thou  shalt  not  do  so 
many  of  the  Romanist  practices  bear  a  |  unto  the  Lord  thy  God." 
strong  resemblance  to  those  of  the  idola-  i  Both  injunctions  the  Israelites  frequently 
trous  Israelites.  In  particular,  their  ve-  j  violated  ;  many  of  them,  while  they  ob- 
neration  for  the  wood  of  the  supposed  served  the  first  commandment  in  abstain- 
true  cross,  has  a  correspondence  approach- j  ing  from  the  worship  of  Baal  and  the 
ing  to  identity  with  the  veneration  of  the  other  gods  of  the  heathen,  infringing 
Israelites  for  the  brazen  serpent  which  nevertheless  the  second,  by  their  use  of 
Hezekiah  destroyed ;  only  that  the  more  j  images :  of  which  we  have  an  instance  in 
ancient  superstition  was  one  degree  less  i  the  case  of  Jeroboam  "  who  made  Israel 
irrational ;  inasmuch  as  the  image  was  that  to  sin  ;"  the  golden  calves  which  he  set 
which  had  itself  been  a  more  immediate  up  being  clearly  designed  as  emblematical 
instrument  of  a  miraculous  deliverance ;  |  representations  of  the  true  God  :  for  he 


said,  u  These  be  thy  gods,  O  Israel,  which 
brought  thee  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt." 
This  was  emphatically  called  "  the  sin  of 
Jeroboam;"  and  the  distinction  above 
alluded  to  is  noticed  in  the  case  (to  omit 
numberless  others)  of  Jehu;  thus  Jehu 
destroyed  Baal  out  of  Israel :  howbeit 
from  the  sins  of  Jeroboam  the  son  of  Ne- 
bat,  who  made  Israel  to  sin,  Jehu  departed 
not  from  after  them,  to  wit,  the  golden 
calves  that  were  in  Bethel,  and  that  were 
in  Dan." 

And  we  find  also  numerous  instances 
(besides  this  direct  violation  of  the  second 
commandment)  of  the  introduction  of 
unauthorized  and  superstitious  rites  in  the 
worship  of  the  true  God. 

This  two-fold  division  of  superstition 
I  have  the  more  strongly  dwelt  on,  both 
because  it  is  frequently  overlooked,  and 
because  inattention  to  it  is  likely  to  lead 
to  dangerous  consequences. 

I  would  not  however  be  understood  as 
contending  for  any  arbitrary  and  unusual 
signification  of  the  word ;  but  1  conceive, 
that  by  superstition  is  commonly  under- 
stood, not,  as  a  popular  though  superficial 
writer  has  defined  it,  u  an  excess  of  reli- 
gion," (at  least  in  the  ordinary  sense  of 
the  word  excess,)  as  if  any  one  could 
have  too  much  of  true  religion,  but,  any 
misdirection  of  religious  feeling ;  mani- 
fested either  in  showing  religious  venera- 
tion or  regard  to  objects  which  deserve 
none  ;  i.  e.,  properly  speaking,  the  worship 
of  false  gods ;  or,  in  the  assignment  of 
such  a  degree,  or  such  a  kind  of  religious 
veneration  to  any  object,  as  that  object, 
though  worthy  of  some  reverence,  does 
not  deserve  ;  or  in  the  worship  of  the  true 
God  through  the  medium  of  improper 
ceremonies  or  symbols. 

This  latter  branch  of  superstition  is 
extremely  liable,  as  I  have  already  re- 
marked, to  degenerate  insensibly  into  the 
former.  The  Israelite,  e.  g.,  who  was  ac- 
customed to  worship  Jehovah  through 
the  medium  of  a  sensible  image,  would 
be  very  likely,  in  time,  to  transfer  a  larger 
and  larger  portion  of  his  adoration  to  the 
image  itself;  and  in  proportion  as  he  an- 
nexed to  it  any  idea  of  especial  sanctity, 
he  would  be,  insensibly,  more  and  more 
falling  into  the  error  of  adoring  an  image, 
in  the  only  sense  in  which  it  is  conceiv- 
able than  an  image  can  be  adored. 

In  avowing  my  conviction  that  this  is 
the  case  with  a  large  proportion  of  the 
members  of  the  Romish  church,  and  that 
they  are  consequently  most  decidedly 
chargeable  with  the  sin  of  idolatry,  I  am 


SUPERSTITION.  15 

aware  that  I  run  counter  to  the  opinions  (I 
might  rather  perhaps  say  to  the  expres- 
sions) of  some  enlightened  Protestants. 
But  these,  I  conceive,  are  not  so  much 
mistaken  in  their  judgment,  as  inaccurate 
in  their  language.  It  is  said,  e.  g.,  that 
when  the  Romanists  offer  up  their  prayers 
before  a  crucifix,  or  before  a  piece  of 
bread,  they  do  not  design  to  worship  a 
piece  of  wood  or  a  piece  of  bread,  as 
such,  but  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  as  repre- 
sented by  the  one,  and  as  actually  present 
in  the  other.  And  certainly,  if  they  in- 
tend to  direct  their  worship  to  the  one 
true  God,  they  are  not  guilty  of  a  breach 
of  the  jirst  commandment;  but  this  does 
not  clear  them  of  the  charge  of  infringing 
the  second;  they  may  be  guilty  of  super- 
stition, though  not  of  every  kind  and  de- 
gree of  superstition :  and  if  the  practices, 
I  have  alluded  to,  do  not  constitute  that 
kind  of  superstition  which  is  properly 
called  idolatry,  let  us  be  allowed  to  in- 
quire, what  does?  Will  it  be  said  that 
idolatry  consists  in  worshipping  a  piece 
of  wood  as  such — as  a  mere  piece  of 
wood  ?  I  would  ask  in  reply,  Who  then 
ever  was,  or  can  be,  guilty  of  it?  The 
thing  is  not  only  practically  impossible, 
but  is  inconceivable,  and  a  contradiction 
in  terms.  The  most  gross-minded  Israelite 
that  ever  offered  up  his  prayers  before  a 
golden  calf,  implied,  by  that  very  act,  his 
belief  that  it  was  something  more  than  a 
mere  piece  of  gold,  and  that  there  resided 
in  it  a  certain  divine  intelligence.  The 
argument  therefore  is  not  so  much  a  vin- 
dication of  any  party  from  the  charge 
of  idolatry,  as  a  vindication  of  idolatry 
itself. 

It  has  been  said,  I  believe,  by  some 
Protestants,  respecting  the  alleged  idola- 
try of  adoring  the  sacred  elements  at  the 
Eucharist,  u  it  would  be  idolatrous,  if  / 
were  to  join  in  it:"  if  this  means,  "  sup- 
posing you  to  have  the  same  belief  in  tran- 
substantiation  that  the  Romanists  have," 
this  is  only  a  circuitous  mode  of  saying 
that  they  are  idolaters;  but  if  it  means, 
"  were  you  to  join  in  it,  supposing  you 
to  have  the  Protestant  belief  that  the  con- 
secrated bread  is  merely  bread,"  the  sup- 
position involves  an  absurdity  and  self- 
contradiction.  A  man  may  indeed  feign, 
and  outwardly  indicate,  in  order  to  de- 
ceive his  fellow-man,  an  adoration  of 
what  he  believes  to  be  merely  a  piece  of 
bread  or  ;of  wood;  but  that  he  should 
really  and  inwardly  adore,  what  he  be- 
lieves at  the  moment  to  be  no  more  than 
mere  bread  or  mere  wood,  is  not  only 


16 


SUPERSTITION. 


impossible,  but  absolutely  unmeaning,  be- 
ing at  variance  with  the  very  notion  of 
adoration. 

If  therefore  a  Romanist  adores  the  true 
God  under  the  form  of  bread,*  which  he 
holds  to  be  the  real  literal  body  of  Christ, 
or  if,  in  worshipping  before  a  crucifix,  he 
attributes  a  certain  sanctity  to  the  image, 
as  if  some  divine  virtue  were  actually 
present  in  it,  (and  that  this  is  done  is 
plain  from  the  preference  shown  of  one 
image  to  another,)  he  is  clearly  as  much 
guilty  of  idolatry  as  the  Israelites  in  wor- 
shipping the  golden  calf  and  the  brazen 
serpent :  it  being  thus  only,  that  any  one 
can  practise  idolatry. 

In  making  this  declaration,  however,  it 
is  not  my  object  either  to  lead  Protestants 
to  exult  uncharitably  over  their  erring 
brethren,  or  to  vindicate  our  own  renun- 
ciation of  their  errors ;  but  rather  to  point 
out  the  danger  which  must  ever  beset  all 
of  us,  of  falling  into  similar  errors  in  an- 
other shape,  and  under  other  names ;  for 
ten  thousand  of  the  greatest  faults  in  our 
neighbour  are  of  less  consequence  to  ws, 
than  one,  of  the  smallest,  in  ourselves. 

The  Israelites  of  old  were  warned  not 
only  to  worship  none  of  the  gods  of  the 
heathen,  but  to  copy  none  of  their  super- 
stitions: "Ye  shall  not  do  so  to  the 
Lord  your  God."  Now  they  probably 
were  disposed  to  think  themselves  secure 
from  the  danger  of  corrupting  their  own 
religion,  in  their  deep  abhorrence  of  the 
religions  of  those  nations  whom  the  Lord 
had  cast  out  before  them.  The  church 
of  Rome,  again,  thought  itself  safe  from 
superstition,  by  its  rejection  of  those  par- 
ticular superstitions  of  which  the  Israelites 
and  the  Pagans  were  guilty.  And  Pro- 
testants, again,  are  no  less  disposed  to  feel 
the  same  security,  on  account  of  their  ab- 
horrence of  the  particular  superstitions  of 
the  Romanists.  The  images  used  by  the 
Papists  are  not  the  same  with  those  for 
worshipping  which  the  Israelites  were 
condemned:  and  they  again  doubtless 
pleaded  that  the  golden  calves  and  the 
brazen  serpent  were  not  the  idols  of  the 
Canaanites;  and  thus  does  each  successive 
generation  censure  the  faults  and  follies 
of  the  preceding,  without  taking  sufficient 
heed  to  itself,  or  recognizing,  as  they  arise, 


*  For  the  Romish  doctrine  is,  as  Mr.  Blanco 
White  has  plainly  shown,  not,  as  they  themselves 
declare,  that  bread  is  transformed  into  the  body  of 
Christ,  but  that  Christ  is  transformed  into  bread, 
in  the  sense  which  the  words  according  to  invari- 
able usage  convey. 


i  errors  substantially  the  same,  though  un- 
der new  shapes. 

The  superstitious  and  the  other  errors 
!  of  the  Romanists  were,  as  I  have  already 
observed,  not  the  result  of  systematic 
contrivance,  but  sprung  up  spontaneously 
as  the  indigenous  growth  of  the  human 
heart:  they  arose  successively,  gradually, 
and  imperceptibly  ;  and  were,  in  most  in- 
stances, probably  first  overlooked,  then 
tolerated,  and  then  sanctioned,  and  finally 
embodied  in  that  detestable  system,  of 
which  they  are  rather  to  be  regarded  as 
the  cause  than  the  effect.  Since  then,  as 
I  have  said,  corruptions  of  religion  neither 
first  sprang  from  Romanism,  nor  can  be 
i  expected  to  end  with  it,  the  tendency  to 
them  being  inherent  in  our  common 
I  nature,  it  is  evident  that  constant  watch- 
|  fulness  alone  can  preserve  us  from,  not 
I  the  very  same,  corruptions  with  those  of 
our  predecessors,  but,  similar  ones  under 
some  fresh  disguise  ;  and  that  this  danger 
is  enhanced  by  the  very  circumstance 
which  seems  to  secure  us  from  it — our 
abhorrence  of  those  errors  in  them.  From 
practices  the  very  same  in  name  and  form 
with  theirs,  such  abhorrence  is  indeed  a 
safeguard ;  while  at  the  same  time  it  makes 
us  the  less  ready  to  suspect  ourselves  of 
the  faults  disguised :  the  vain  security 
thus  generated,  draws  off  our  thoughts 
from  self-examination;  a  task  for  which 
the  mind  is  in  general  least  fitted,  when 
it  is  most  occupied  in  detecting  and  ex- 
posing the  faults  of  others.  In  treating 
then  of  such  corruptions  of  religion  as 
those  into  which  the  church  of  Rome 
has  fallen,  my  primary  object  is  to  excite 
a  spirit  not  of  self-congratulation  and  self- 
confidence,  but  of  self-distrust  and  self- 
examination. 

§.  6.  With  respect  to  that  particular 
class  of  corruptions  now  before  us,  which 
omes  under  the  general  title  of  super- 
tition,  it  is  requisite  (though  it  is  some- 
hat  strange  that  it  should  be  so)  to 
remise  a  remark  on  the  enormity  of  the 
evil  in  question.  The  mischiefs  of  super- 
stition are,  I  conceive,  much  underrated. 
It  is  by  many  regarded,  not  as  any  sin, 
but  as  a  mere  harmless  folly,  at  the 
worst ; — as,  in  some  instances,  an  ami- 
able weakness,  or  even  a  salutary  delu- 
sion. Its  votaries  are  pitied,  as  in  some 
cases  subjected  to  needless  and  painful 
restraints,  and  undergoing  groundless 
terrors  ; — sometimes  they  are  ridiculed 
as  enslaved  to  absurb  and  puerile  ob- 
servances :  but  whether  pitied  or  laughed 
at,  superstitious  Christians  are  often  re- 


SUPERSTITION. 


17 


garded  as  likely,  at  least  as  not  the  less 
likely  on  account  of  their  superstition,  to 
have  secured  the  essentials  of  religion  ; — 
as  believing  and  practising  what  is  need- 
ful towards  salvation,  and  as  only  carry- 
ing their  faith  and  their  practice  unne- 
cessarily and  unreasonably  to  the  point 
of  weak  credulity  and  foolish  scrupulosity. 
This  view  of  the  subject  has  a  strong 
tendency  to  confirm  the  superstitious, 
and  even  to  add  to  their  number.  They 
feel  that  if  there  is  any  doubt,  they  are 
surely  on  the  safe  side.  "  Supposing  I 
am  in  error  on  this  or  that  point,"  (a 
man  may  say,)  "  I  am  merely  doing  some- 
thing superfluous ;  at  the  worst  I  suffer 
some  temporary  inconvenience,  and  per- 
haps have  to  encounter  some  ridicule ; 
but  if  the  error  be  on  the  other  side,  J  risk 
my  salvation  by  embracing  it ;  my  present 
course  therefore  is  evidently  the  safest." 
What  force  this  argument  has  in  the 
hands  of  the  Romanist,  I  need  hardly  re- 
mind my  readers.  Of  converts  to  Ro- 
manism, probably  three  out  of  four,  espe- 
cially of  the  ignorant  and  the  weak-mind- 
ed, have  been  drawn  over,  in  the  first 
instance  at  least,  by  the  consideration, 
that  that  is  the  safe  side.* 

*  •<  The  Romanists  in  general,  but  more  espe- 
cially those  who,  in  the  midst  of  doubt,  are 
anxious  to  save  themselves  from  the  painful  step 
of  changing  their  communion,  comfort  themselves 
with  the  idea,  that  after  all  Roman  Caiholt.es  are, 
on  the  safe  side.  If  Protestants  should  be  saved, 
they  themselves  have  made  "  assurance  doubly 
sure ;"  if  Protestanism  be  Christianity,  Romanists 
have  it  all,  and  a  great  deal  besides. 

"  I  know  of  few  absurdities  that  can  be  com- 
pared to  this.  Let  me  make  it  clear  to  you  by  a 
familiar  example.  Suppose  a  poor,  helpless  per- 
son is  dying  of  a  dreadful  complaint.  An  eminent 
physician  hears  of  his  distress ;  calls  on  him,  and 
prepares  a  medicine,  which  he  desires  the  patient 
to  take,  under  a  strong  injunction  to  trust  in  it 
alone  for  life.  In  the  absence  of  the  physician, 
our  patient  begins  to  think  on  the  prescription, 
and  because  it  appears  to  him  too  simple,  mixes 
it  with  every  quack  medicine  that  the  neighbours 
recommend.  Having  swallowed  the  whole,  he 
now  comforts  himself  with  the  assurance  that  he 
is  on  the  safe  side.  Why  1  because  he  has  mis- 
trusted the  physician,  and  divided  his  confidence 
between  the  only  man  whose  skill  can  save  him, 
and  the  old  women  of  the  village. 

"  O  foolish  Galatians !"  (I  am  irresistibly 
impelled  to  exclaim  with  St.  Paul,)  "  who  hath 
bewitched  you,  that  ye  should  not  obey  the  truth  1" 
O  blind  and  deluded  people!  how  can  you  imagine 
that  the  eternal  life  promised  to  faith  in  Christ 
will  be  doubly  secured  by  showing  and  proving 
your  mistrust,  through  the  use  of  the  fanciful  ways 
of  pleasing  God,  invented  and  set  forth  by  Rome  T' 
Blanco  White's  Letter  to  Converts  from  Roman- 
ism. This  excellent  little  tract  is  less  known  than 
it  deserves. 

3 


With  the  danger  however  of  being  se- 
|  duced  into  the  pale  of  the  Romish  church, 
j  I  am  not  at  present  concerned,  but  with 
|  the  danger  of  superstition  generally.  In 
j  speaking  of  that  point,  as  well  as  (here- 
;  after)  of  others  connected  with  the  spirit 
;  of  Romanism,  I  wish  to  be  understood  as 
i  not  calling  for  harsh  censure  on  individu- 
|  als,  but  only  on  offences  as  they  are  in 
i  themselves.  How  far  the  superstition  of 
I  any  individual  may  be  excusable  or 
blamable  in  the  sight  of  God,  can  be  pro- 
nounced by  him  alone,  who  alone  is  able 
I  to  estimate  each  man's  strength  or  weak- 
I  ness,  his  opportunities  of  gaining  know- 
I  ledge,  and  his  employment  or  neglect  of 
!  those  opportunities.  But  the  same  may 
I  be  said  of  every  other  offence,  as  well  as 
|  of  the  one  in  question.  Of  superstition 
itself,  in  all  its  various  forms  and  degrees, 
;  I  cannot  think  otherwise  than  that  it  is 
,  not  merely  a  folly  to  be  ridiculed,  but  a 
:  mischief  to  be  dreaded ;  and  that  its 
i  tendency  is,  in  most  cases,  as  far  as  it  ex- 
tends, destructive  of  true  piety. 

The  disposition  to  reverence  some  su- 
perhuman power,  and  in  some  way  or 
other  to  endeavour  to  recommend  our- 
selves to  the  favour  of  that  power,  is 
(more  or  less  in  different  individuals)  a 
natural  and  original  sentiment  of  the 
human  mind.  The  great  enemy  of  man 
finds  it  easier  in  most  cases  to  misdirect, 
than  to  eradicate  this.  If  an  exercise  for 
this  religious  sentiment  can  be  provided — 
if  this  natural  craving  after  divine  worship 
(if  I  may  so  speak)  can  be  satisfied — by 
the  practice  of  superstitious  ceremonies, 
true  piety  will  be  much  more  easily  ex- 
tinguished ; — the  conscience  will  on  this 
point  have  been  set  at  rest; — God's  place 
in  the  heart  will,  as  it  were,  have  been 
pre-occupied  by  an  idol ;  and  that  genuine 
religion  which  consists  in  a  devotedness 
of  the  affections  to  God,  operating  in  the 
improvement  of  the  moral  character,  will 
be  more  effectually  shut  out,  from  the 
religious  feelings  of  our  nature  having 
found  another  vent,  and  exhausted  them- 
selves on  vanities  of  man's  devising. 

To  illustrate  as  fully  as  might  be  done 
i  this  debasing  and  corrupting  tendency  of 
superstition,  by  an  examination  of  the 
numberless  instances  of  it  which  might 
but  too  readily  be  found,  would  far  ex- 
|  ceed  my  limits,  and  would  be,  to  most  of 
my  readers,  in  a  great  degree  unnecessary. 
But  I  cannot  omit,  in  confirmation  of 
what  has  been  said,  one  general  remark, 
which  is  applicable  to  most  of  these 
instances  :  that  one  of  the  most  prevailing 


18 

characteristics    of 
which    is    found 


SUPERSTITION. 


superstition, 
more  or  less 


at  least 
in  most 


species  of  it,  is  the  attributing  of  some 
sacred  efficacy  to  the  performance  of  an 


which  in  the  course  of  many  centuries, 
gradually  arose  in  the  Romish  and  Greek 
churches. 

§  7.   And  it  is  a 


circumstance    not  a 

outward  act*  or  the  presence  of  some  ma-  I  little  remarkable,  that,  in  many  instances 
terial  object,  without  any  inward  devotion  I  at  least,  superstition  not  only  does  not  pro- 
of the  heart  being  required  to  accompany  mote  true  religion,  but  even  tends  to  gene- 
it  ; — without,  in  short,  any  thing  else  rate  profaneness ;  and  that,  not  merely 
being  needed,  except,  in  some  cases,  an  in  other  points,  but  even  in  respect  to  the 
undoubting  faith  in  that  intrinsic  efficacy,  very  objects  of  the  superstitious  reverence. 
The  tendency  thus  to  disjoin  religious  In  proof  of  this  I  can  cite  the  testimony 
observances  (i.  e.  what  are  intended  to  be  of  an  eminently  competent  witness,  as  far 
such)  from  heartfelt  and  practical  religion,  at  least  as  one  Roman  Catholic  country 
is  one  of  the  most  besetting  evils  of  our  (Spain)  is  concerned ;  the  author,  after 
corrupt  nature  ;  and  it  is  the  very  root  of  j  having  mentioned  the  extravagant  and 
most  superstitions.  Now  no  one  can  fail  |  absurd  superstitions  of  the  ceremonies 
to  perceive  how  opposite  this  is  to  true  |  which  take  place  on  Good  Friday,  adds, 
piety.  Empty  forms  not  only  supersede  |  "  I  have  carefully  glided  over  such  parts 


piety  by  standing  in  its  place,  but  gradu- 
ally alter  the  habits  of  the  mind,  and 
render  it  unfit  for  the  exercise  of  genuine 
pious  sentiment.  Even  the  natural  food 
of  religion  (if  1  may  so  speak)  is  thus 
converted  into  its  poison.  Our  very 
prayers,  for  example,  and  our  perusal  of 
the  holy  Scriptures,  become  superstitious, 
in  proportion  as  any  one  expects  them  to 
operate  as  a  charm — attributing  efficacy 
to  the  mere  words,  while  his  feelings  and 
thoughts  are  not  occupied  in  what  he  is 
doing. 

Every  religious  ceremony  or  exercise, 
however  well  calculated,  in  itself,  to  im- 
prove the  heart,  is  liable,  as  I  have  said, 


of  this  absurd  performance  as  would  shock 
many  an  English  reader,  even  in  narra- 
tive. Yet  such  is  the  strange  mixture  of 
superstition  and  profaneness  in  the  people 
for  whose  gratification  these  scenes  are 
exhibited,  that  though  any  attempt  to  ex- 
pose the  indecency  of  these  shows  would 
rouse  their  zeal  '  to  the  knife,'  I  cannot 
venture  to  translate  the  jokes  and  sallies 
of  wit  that  are  frequently  heard  among 
the  Spanish  peasantry  upon  these  sacred 
topics."*  The  like  strange  mixture  is 
found  in  other  Roman  Catholic  and  also 
in  Pagan  countries;  particularly  among 
the  Hindoos,  who  are  described  as  habitu- 
ally reviling  their  gods  in  the  grossest 


thus  to  degenerate  into  a  mere  form,  and  j  terms,  on  the  occasion  of  any  untoward 
consequently  to  become  superstitious ; 
but  in  proportion  as  the  outward  observ- 
ances are  the  more  complex  and  operose, 
and  the  more  unmeaning  or  unintelligible, 
the  more  danger  is  there  of  superstitiously 
attaching  a  sort  of  magical  efficacy  to  the 
bare  outward  act,  independent  of  mental 
devotion.  If,  for  example,  even  our 
prayers  are  liable,  without  constant  watch- 


event. 

In  this  country  a  large  proportion  of 
the  superstition  that  exists  is  connected 
more  or  less  with  the  agency  of  evil  spi- 
rits ;  accordingly  (in  conformity  with  the 
strange  principle  of  our  nature  just  men- 
tioned) nothing  is  so  common  a  theme  of 
profane  jests  among  the  vulgar  of  all 
ranks,  as  the  devil,  and  every  thing  re- 


fulness,  to  become  a  superstitious  form,  j  lating  to  that  being,  including  the  u  ever- 
by  our  "  honouring  God  with  our  lips,  j  lasting  fire  prepared  for  him  and  his  an- 
while  our  heart  is  far  from  him,"  this  re-  I  gels ;"  and  this,  by  no  means  exclusively 


suit  is  almost  unavoidable  when  the 
prayers  are  recited  in  an  unknown  tongue, 
and  with  a  prescribed  number  of  vain 
repetitions,  crossings,  and  telling  of  beads. 
And  men  of  a  timorous  mind,  having  once 
taken  up  a  wrong  notion  of  what  religion 
consists  in,  seek  a  refuge  from  doubt  and 


or  chiefly,  among  such  as  disbelieve  what 
Scripture  says  on  the  subject ;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  even  the  most,  among  those  who 
give  credit  to  a  multitude  of  legendary 
tales  also,  quite  unwarranted  by  Scripture. 
This  curious  anomaly  may  perhaps  be, 
in  a  great  measure  at  least,  accounted  for, 


anxiety,  a    substitute   for    inward  piety,  i  from  the  consideration,  that  as  supersti- 


and,  too  often,  a  compensation  for  an  evil 
life,  in  an  endless  multiplication  of  su- 
perstitious observances ; — of  pilgrimages, 
sprinklings  with  holy  water,  veneration 
of  relics,  and  the  like.  And  hence  the 
enormous  accumulation  of  superstitions, 


tion  imposes  a  yoke  rather  of  fear  than 
of  love,  her  votaries  are  glad  to  take  re- 
venge,  as  it  were,  when  galled  by  this 
yoke,  and  to  indemnify  themselves  in 

*  Doblado's  Letters  from  Spain,  p.  264. 


SUPERSTITION. 


19 


some  degree  both  for  the  irksomeness  of 
their  restraints  and  tasks,  and  also  for  the 
degradation,  (some  sense  of  which  is  al- 
ways excited  by  a  consciousness  of  a  slav- 
ish dread,)  by  taking  liberties  wherever 
they  dare,  either  in  the  way  of  insult  or 
playfulness,  with  the  objects  of  their  dread, 
f  And  jests  on  sacred  subjects,  it  is  well 
known,  are,  when  men  are  so  disposed, 
the  most  easily  produced  of  any  ;  because 
the  contrast  between  a  dignified  and  a 
low  image,  exhibited  in  combination,  (in 
which  the  whole  force  of  the  ludicrous 
L  consists,)  is  in  this  case  the  most  striking.** 

But  how  comes  it  that  they  ever  do  dare-i 
as  we  see  is  the  fact,  to  take  these  liber- 
ties ?  Another  characteristic  of  supersti- 
tion will  perhaps  explain  this  also.  It  is, 
as  I  have  just  said,  characteristic  of  super- 
stition to  enjoin,  and  to  attribute  efficacy 
to,  the  mere  performance  of  some  specific 
outward  acts — the  use  of  some  material 
object,  without  any  loyal  affectionate  de- 
votion of  heart  being  required  to  accom- 
pany such  acts,  and  to  pervade  the  whole 
life  as  a  ruling  motive.  Hence,  the  rigid 
observance  of  the  precise  directions  given, 
leaves  the  votary  secure,  at  ease  in  con- 
science, and  at  liberty,  as  well  as  in  dis- 
position, to  indulge  in  profaneness.  In 
like  manner  a  patient,  who  dares  not  re- 
fuse to  swallow  a  nauseous  dose  and  to 
confine  himself  to  strict  regimen,  yet  is 
both  vexed  and  somewhat  ashamed  of 
submitting  to  the  annoyance,  will  some- 
times take  his  revenge,  as  it  were,  by 
abusive  ridicule  of  his  medical  attendant 
and  his  drugs;  knowing  that  this  will 
not,  so  long  as  he  does  but  take  the  medi- 
cines, diminish  their  efficacy.  Supersti- 
tious observances  are  a  kind  of  distaste- 
ful or  disgusting  remedy,  which  however 
is  to  operate  if  it  be  but  swallowed ;  and 
on  which  accordingly  the  votary  some- 
times ventures  gladly  to  revenge  himself. 

The  more  ready  therefore  in  any  in- 
stance the  superstitions  of  the  Romish 
church  approached  to,  and  blended  them- 
selves with,  true  religion,  the  more  did 


*  It  is  commonly  said,  that  there  is  no  wit  in 
profane  jests ;  but  it  would  be  hard  to  frame  any 
definition  of  wit  that  should  exclude  them.  It  would 
be  more  correct  to  say,  (and  I  believe  that  is  what 
is  really  meant,)  that  the  practice  displays  no  great 
powers  of  wit,  because  the  subject-matter  renders 
it  so  particularly  easy  ;  and  that  (for  the  very  same 
reason)  it  affords  the  least  gratification  (apart 
from  all  higher  considerations)  to  judges  of  good 
taste ;  for  a  great  part  of  the  pleasure  afforded  by 
wit  results  from  a  perception  of  skill  displayed, 
and  difficulty  surmounted. 


they  deteriorate  the  spirit  of  it ; — the  more 
did  the  poisonous  parasite,  twining  round 
the  fairest  boughs  of  the  good  tree,  blight 
by  its  noxious  neighbourhood  the  fruits 
which  that  should  have  borne. 

We  cannot  indeed  be  too  thankful  to 
God,  that  by  his  blessing  our  ancestors 
perceived  and  undertook  to  reform  these 
abuses :  but  my  especial  object  in  now 
adverting  to  the  errors  of  the  Romanists 
is,  to  call  your  attention  to  this  important 
consideration  ;  that  such  a  multitude  and 
variety  of  superstitions,  as  troublesome 
as  they  are  absurd,  never  could  have  been 
introduced  by  any  devices  of  priestcraft, 
had  there  not  been  in  the  human  mind 
that  strong  natural  tenancy  to  supersti- 
tion which  has  just  been  described.  And 
this  being  the  case — this  tendency  being, 
as  it  is,  a  part  of  our  common  nature,  it 
is  for  us  to  guard  against  the  danger  in 
ourselves,  instead  of  exulting  in  a  vain 
confidence  that  we  are  exempt  and  safe 
from  it.  The  things  we  ought  to  learn, 
and  to  learn  with  a  view  to  our  own 
profit,  from  the  example  of  the  Romish 
church,  are,  the  mischievous  effects  of  su- 
perstition, and  man's  proneness  to  it. 

That  superstition  does  exist,  to  no  in- 
considerable extent,  in  Protestant  coun- 
tries, which  is  what  the  foregoing  reason- 
ings, even  independently  of  experience, 
would  prepare  us  to  expect,  few,  I  imagine, 
would  venture  to  deny;  though  perhaps 
fewer  still  are  fully  aware  of  its  amount, 
or  sufficiently  on  their  guard  against  the 
danger. 

§.  8.  With  respect  to  the  particular 
points  on  which  superstition  is  most  to 
be  dreaded,  and  towards  which,  conse- 
quently, our  vigilance  should  be  espe- 
cially directed,  I  am  precluded  by  several 
considerations  from  entering  on  any  de- 
tailed examination. 

The  enumeration  of  all,  or  nearly  all, 
the  superstitions  which  either  actually  ex- 
ist, or  are  likely  to  arise,  would  far  exceed 
my  purposed  limits.  And  I  am  sensible 
that  to  advert  even  to  a  few  of  these  is 
likely  to  be  less  profitable  than  I  could 
wish ;  inasmuch  as  the  same  remarks  will 
usually  be  a  superfluous  truism  to  one 
person,  and  a  revolting  paradox  to  an- 
other. For  any  one  who  practises,  or 
tolerates  and  approves,  any  superstition, 
is  of  course  not  accustomed  (at  least 
should  in  charity  not  be  presumed  to  be 
accustomed)  to  consider  it  as  superstition, 
nor  would  be  prepared  to  admit  the  cen- 
sure without  detailed  argument  and  calm 
consideration  ;  while  one  who  does  regard 


20 


SUPERSTITION. 


it  as  superstitious,  has  hihiself  already 
pronounced  that  censure. 

To  this  must  be  added,  that  in  most 
,  instances  the  very  same  thing  will  be 
superstitious  to  some  persons,  and  not  to 
others.  The  adoration  of  saints  indeed, 
or  of  any  other  being  besides  the  one 
true  God,  must  always,  and  in  itself,  be  su- 
perstitious :  but  in  the  great  majority  of 
instances,  the  very  same  outward  rites, 
and  sensible  objects,  may  be  either  a  help 
to  devotion,  or  a  substitute  for  it ;  such  as 
sacred  music — the  repetition  of  prayers 
— the  assembling  in  edifices  set  apart  for 
divine  worship — the  assuming  of  certain 
bodily  postures,  &c.  In  all  such  cases, 
the  religion  or  the  superstition  exists  in 
the  mind  of  the  person,  and  is  only  in- 
cidentally connected  with  the  external 
objects  and  observances.  Of  these  last,  j 
the  lest  that  can  be  said  of  any  of  them 
is,  that  they  are  well  calculated  to  cherish 
feelings  of  rational  devotion  :  the  worst 
that  can  be  said  of  any  of  them  is,  that 
they  are  peculiarly  liable  to  become  su- 
perstitious. But  even  pictures  and  images 
are  not  in  themselves  superstitious  ;  and 
accordingly  we  do  not  now  exclude  them 
from  our  houses  of  worship;  though  if 
we  found  them  now  liable  to  any  of  that 
abuse  wThich  has  grown  to  such  an  enor- 
mous height  among  the  Romanists,  it 
would  be  our  duty  to  treat  them  as  Heze- 
kiah  did  the  brazen  serpent,  which  "  he 
brake  in  pieces,  because  the  Israelites 
burnt  incense  to  it."  And,  on  the  other 
hand,  there  is  no  act  or  object  connected 
with  divine  worship  which  may  not 
become  superstitious,  through  the  wor- 
shipper's trusting  in  the  efficacy  of  out- 
ward forms,  while  his  heart  is  far  from 
God.  Our  reformers  therefore  showed 
their  discretion  in  their  assertion  respect- 
ing the  Liturgy  and  Forms  of  Ordination 
which  they  drew  up,  that  these  "  con- 
tained nothing  in  itself  superstitious :" 
they  knew  by  sad  experience  that  no- 
thing but  the  worshipper's  vigilant  self- 
examination  can  secure  either  human  or 
divine  ordinances  from  becoming  (to  him) 
superstitious. 

What  has  been  said  may  be  sufficient 
to  show  that  this  vigilant  examination  and  ; 
caution  against  superstition,  on  each  par- 
ticular point,  must  be  practised  by  each 
person  for  himself,  both  with  a  view 
to  his  own  conduct,  and  that  of  all  those 
who  may  be  more  especially  under  his 
care  ;  and  that  the  necessity  of  this  cannot 
be  superseded  by  any  general  description.  | 


Enough  also  has  been  said,  I  trust,  to 
show  both  the  vast  importance  of  this 
vigilant  examination,  and  also  the  princi- 
ples on  which  it  should  be  conducted.  I 
will  notice,  however,  a  few,  and  only  a 
few,  of  those  practices  and  notions,  to 
which,  as  it  seems  to  me,  especial  atten- 
tion should  be  directed,  as  either  savour- 
ing of  superstition,  or  peculiarly  liable  to 
lead  to  it.  Several  of  my  observations,  I 
have  no  doubt,  will  appear  utterly  super- 
fluous, to  many  of  those  among  my 
readers  who  have  not  (not  to  those  who 
have)  been  occupied  diligently  in  the  care 
of  a  parish,  and  in  that  essential  part  of 
it,  frequent  and  confidential  intercourse 
with  all,  and  especially  with  the  more 
unenlightened  classes,  of  the  parishioners. 
I  pledge  myself  however  to  state  nothing 
on  the  ground  of  mere  conjecture — no- 
thing which  I  have  not  been  enabled  fully 
to  verify. 

§.  9.  I.  That  there  exists  among  Pro- 
testants much  of  that  branch  of  Romish 
superstition — the  pretension  to  miraculous 
powers,  or  belief  in  miraculous  occur- 
rences, on  slight  grounds,  no  sober-minded 
person,  who  is  not  quite  ignorant  of  the 
existing  state  of  things,  can  doubt.*  We 
have  among  us  pretenders  to  inspiration ; 
some  using  that  very  term,  and  others 
virtually  implying  as  much  :  and  we  have 
many  who  see  special  "judgments,"  or 
other  "  interpositions"  of  Providence,  in 
almost  every  remarkable,  and  in  many  of 
the  most  ordinary  occurrences.  Some- 
times they  apply  to  these  the  very  term 
"miraculous  ;"  sometimes  they  call  them, 
which  amounts  to  the  very  same,  "  provi- 
dential;" for  though  it  is  literally  true 
that  nothing  takes  place  which  is  not,  in 
some  sense,  providential,  it  is  plain,  for 
that  very  reason,  that  whatever  is  rightly 
characterized  as  providential,  i.  e.  as  more 

*  It  would  not  be  suitable  to  my  present  pur- 
pose, to  enter  on  a  minute  inquiry  into  the  use  of 
several  words  connected  with  the  present  subject ; 
but  it  may  be  worth  while  to  remark,  that,  accord- 
ing to  the  most  prevailing  usage,  "fanaticism" 
implies  superstition,  (i.  e.  "  misdirected  religious 
feeling,")  but  is  not  necessarily  implied  by  it.  If 
on  very  insufficient  grounds  I  believe  another  per- 
son to  be  inspired,  or  any  other  miracle  to  have 
taken  place,  I  am  merely  superstitious  ;  if  I  thus 
believe  myself  to  be  inspired,  or  gifted  with  mira- 
culous powers,  I  am  also  fanatical. 

Enthusiasm  seems  to  be  employed  as  a  more 
comprehensive  term  than  fanaticism,  both  as 
being  sometimes  used  in  a  good,  at  least,  a  milder 
sense,  and  also  as  extending  to  other  things  be- 
sides religion. 


SUPERSTITION. 


21 


providential  than  other  events,  is  properly 
miraculous.* 

Jf  either  Romanists,  or  any  others,  will 
give  sufficient  proof  of  the  occurrence  of 
a  miracle,  they  ought  to  be  listened  to : 
but  to  pretend  to,  or  to  believe  in,  any 
miracle  without  sufficient  proof,  is  clearly 
superstitious,  whatever  may  be  the  system 
such  a  miracle  is  adduced  to  support. 

Most  deeply  is  it  to  be  regretted,  that 
some  writers  who  have  argued  justly  and 
forcibly  against  the  error  of  looking  for 
inspiration  or  other  miraculous  interfer- 
ences, should  have  more  than  nullified 
the  benefit  done,  by  going  on  to  explain 
away  all  that  Scripture  teaches  respecting 
spiritual  influence.  Besides  the  danger, 
that  they  may  propagate  this  error  by 
means  of  the  truth  they  have  mixed  up 
with  it,  there  is  also  an  opposite  evil  even 
much  more  to  be  apprehended ;  that  the 
fanatics  thus  opposed  may  join  with  their 
opponents  in  representing  the  whole  doc- 
trine of  grace  as  inseparably  connected 
with  their  scheme  of  miraculous  interfer- 
ences and  sensible  inspiration;  so  that 
the  whole  must  stand  or  fall  together; 
and  that  they  may  then  triumphantly 
urge,  "  See  what  violence  one  is  driven  to 
do  to  Scripture,  and  how  much  at  variance 
he  becomes  with  the  church  of  England, 
whenever  he  attempts  to  oppose  our  doc- 
trine !"  Too  much  care  cannot  be  taken 
to  testify  simultaneously  against  both  of 
these  opposite  errors. 

II.  Again,  more  superstition  exists  than 
some  persons  are  aware  of,  in  relation  to 
the  Eucharist,  and  to  the  sacred  "  ele- 
ments" (as  they  are  still  called|)  which 
are  administered  in  that  rite.  Several 
among  the  uneducated  (and  some  even 
among  the  higher)  classes,  and  those  of 
them  not  least  who  never  partake,*  or 
design  to  partake,  of  the  holy  communion, 

*  I  ought  in  justice  to  say,  that  I  believe  many 
ephemeral  writers,  and  careless  talkers,  occasion- 
ally use  the  words  "  providential,"  and  "  miracu- 
lous," (as  well  as  many  others,)  without  attaching 
any  precise  notion  to  them.  They  have  been 
used  to  hear  the  words  applied  to  remarkable 
occurrences ;  and  from  mere  force  of  imitation  do 
the  same,  as  if  the  words  were  merely  synonymous 
with  "  remarkable," 

•j-  Agreeably  to  the  language  of  the  schoolmen ; 
who  framed  the  doctrine  of  transubstantiation,  as 
it  now  stands,  so  completely  from  Aristotle's 
writings,  that  it  never  could  have  existed  in  any 
thing  like  its  present  form,  had  that  philosopher 
not  been  studied. 

t  This  is  one  instance  out  of  a  multitude,  in 
which  superstition,  instead  of  promoting,  as  some 
persons  vainly  imagine,  true  religion,  stands  in 
the  place  of  it. 


till  they  believe  themselves  on  the  bed  of 
death,  have  a  strong  faith  in  the  efficacy, 
as  a  medicine,  of  what  they  call  "  sacra- 
ment wine ;"  i.  e.  wine  which  either  has 
been,  or  is  designed  to  be,  (for  they  know 
too  little  of  the  rite  to  distinguish  between 
the  two,)  consecrated  for  this  use.  They 
have  been  known  to  apply  for  it  to  the 
minister,  as  an  infallible  cure  for  some 
particular  diseases  of  children : — confi- 
dently asserting  (indeed  the  very  exist- 
ence and  continuance  of  the  superstition 
forbids  us  to  hope  that  such  applications 
have  always  been  made  in  vain)  that  they 
have  formerly  obtained  it  for  that  use. 
Others  have  been  known,  when  attending 
at  the  Lord's  table,  to  secrete,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  carrying  home,  a  portion  of  the 
consecrated  bread  handed  to  them  ;  doubt- 
less with  a  view  to  some  similar  super- 
stitious use.*  Others  again,  above  the 
very  poorest  class,  have  been  known  to 
petition  for  a  portion  of  the  "  sacrament 
money,"  i.  e.  the  alms  then  collected, 
(offering  to  purchase  it  for  the  same  sum 
in  other  pieces  of  money,)  to  be  forged 
into  a  ring,  as  an  infallible  cure  for  fits. 
This  again  is  a  superstition  which  could 
hardly  have  maintained  its  ground,  if  it 
had  never  been  on  any  occasion  indulged 
by  those  whose  office  is  to  repress  it. 

Too  common  again,  and  well  known,  is 
the  case  of  persons  who  have,  during  the 
hours  of  health,  systematically  abstained 
from  communicating,  and  have  pleaded, 
among  other  excuses,  with  great  truth, 
their  ignorance,  while  they  have  refused 
to  listen  to  the  offered  instruction — of 
these  same  persons  when  on  their  death 
bed,  though  conscious  of  the  same  igno- 
rance respecting  the  whole  nature  and  de- 
sign of  the  ceremony,  and  in  no  condition 
then  to  learn,t  yet  earnestly  craving  the 


*  I  have  detected  and  stopped  this  practice 
among  those  who  are  called  to  consume  the  re- 
mainder of  the  bread  and  wine  after  the  close  of 
the  service.  Let  me  be  permitted  to  call  the  at- 
tention of  officiating  ministers  to  the  Rubric,  and 
to  recommend  a  strict  adherence  to  it,  in  what  re- 
lates to  this  matter :  "  if  any  remain  of  that  which 
was  consecrated,  it  shall  not  be  carried  out  of  the 
church,  but  the  priest  and  such  other  of  the  com- 
municants as  he  shall  then  call  unto  him,  shall, 
immediately  after  the  blessing,  reverently  eat  and 
drink  the  same:"  i.  e.  the  communicants  (as  it 
must  be  understood)  remaining  in  the  minister's 
presence,  into  which  he  had  "  called"  them. 

j-  Sometimes  without  any  wish,  even  then,  for 
previous  instruction  ;  or,  consequently,  any  notion 
that  the  benefit  of  the  sacrament  is  at  all  depend- 
ent on  a  knowledge  of  our  religion.  "  Do  pray, 
dear  sir,  give  me  the  sacrament  first,  and  then  talk 
as  much  as  you  please,"  is  au  answer  by  which  I 


SUPERSTITION. 


administration  of  this  sacrament,  and  trust- 
ing (while  their  surrounding  friends  cher- 
ish their  confidence)  that  the  words  re- 
peated, and  the  bodily  act  of  receiving  the 
bread  and  wine,  will  operate  as  a  charm 
to  ensure  salvation,  like  the  "extreme 
unction"  of  the  Romanists.  Now  if  this 
is  not  a  superstitious  abuse  of  the  ordi- 
nance, what  is  ? 

III.  Nor  has  the  other  sacrament  es- 
caped the  defilement  of  superstition.  Not 
a  few  there  are  who  eagerly  seek  it  with 
as  superstitious  a  reverence  as  that  with 
which  they  shrink  from  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per, and  with,  if  possible,  a  still  more 
complete  ignorance  of  its  nature.  They 
seem  to  regard  the  giving  of  a  namely  to 
an  infant  as  the  most  essential,  or  one  of 
the  most  essential  parts  of  the  rite :  un- 
derstanding by  the  terms  "  Baptism"  or 
"  Christening,"  the  public  reception  in 
church,  (about  which  they  are  frequently 
very  indifferent,)  and  knowing  private 
baptism  by  no  other  appellation  than 
"  naming."  And  many  are  anxious  that 
the  ceremony  should  take  place  (I  speak 
advisedly)  if  the  child  is  very  ill,  in  hopes 
that  it  may  save  his  life ;  at  all  events, 
with  strong  expectation  of  some  benefit, 
while  yet  they  have  no  thought  or  inten- 
tion of  bringing  him  up  with  any  kind  of 
religious  instruction  and  training  ;  nor  in- 
deed have  themselves  either  any  religious 
knowledge,  or  any  wish  to  gain  it.  To 
disjoin  thus  the  means  of  grace  from  the 
fruits  of  grace — the  expected  benefit  of 
the  ordinance  which  admits  a  member  into 


have  known  a  sick  man  perseveringly  repel  the 
attempts  of  the  minister  to  examine  into  the  state 
of  his  mind,  and  impart  to  him  the  requisite  in- 
struction. 

As  for  the  point  of  sincerity  or  insincerity,  no 
one  of  course,  except  the  Searcher  of  hearts,  can 
be  sure  in  every  instance,  whether  an  individual 
is,  or  is  not,  in  this  respect,  a  fit  communicant :  we 
have  only  to  receive  his  solemn  professions ;  and 
our  admitting  him  on  the  strength  of  these,  does 
not,  supposing  them  to  be  in  fact  hypocritical,  give- 
any  countenance  to  the  superstitious  belief,  that 
an  insincere  communicant  derives  benefit  from  the 
rite:  since  we  admit  him  on  the  supposition  of 
his  being  not  insincere ;  but  it  is  otherwise  in  re- 
spect of  the  point  of  knowledge  or  ignorance ; 
that  the  minister  can  ascertain  ;  and  if  he  neglect 
to  do  so,  and  to  proceed  accordingly,  he  is  mani- 
festly fostering  superstition. 

f  In  a  parish  which  had  been  grossly  neglected 
under  a  former  incumbent,  the  rite  of  baptism 
was  administered  to  several  who  had  grown  up 
without  it :  among  the  applicants  was  a  young 
woman,  who,  it  came  out,  had  been  already  bap- 
tized, and  who  gave  as  a  reason  for  applying,  that 
she  was  dissatisfied  with  the  name  that  had  been 
given  her,  and  wished  for  another. 


I  the  Christian  church,  from  his  care  to 
!  lead  a  Christian  life — is  to  convert  a  sa- 
crament into  a  charm, and  to  "make  the 
things  that  should  have  been  for  their 
health,  be  unto  them  an  occasion  of  fall- 
ing." There  is  no  need  to  expatiate  on 
the  mischievous  absurdity  of  such  notions 
and  such  conduct,  or  (to  those  at  least 
of  my  readers  who  have  been  engaged 
in  the  care  of  large  parishes)  on  their 
prevalence.  The  point  to  which  it  is  my 
present  object  to  call  attention  is  the  su- 
perstition involved  in  them  ;  which  bears 
but  too  close  a  resemblance  to  those  of 
the  church  of  Rome  relative  to  the  same 
sacrament.* 

Among  the  many  evils  to  be  traced  to 
this  particular  superstition  is  to  be  reckon- 
ed, I  think,  in  a  great  degree,  the  preva- 
lence (among  many  of  our  own  clergy) 
of  a  system  of  doctrine  which  goes  to 
disjoin  completely  from  "  the  outward  visi- 
ble sign  of  baptism"  all  u  inward  spiritual 
grace :"  and  likewise  the  continuance 
and  increase  of  the  Anabaptist  system; 
which  indeed  the  doctrine  just  alluded  to 
tends  greatly  to  foster.  An  attentive 
hearer  of  one  of  these  divines,  taught  to 
regard  his  own  baptism  as  hardly  more 
than  an  empty  form,  is  thoroughly  prepared 
to  become  a  convert  to  the  first  Anabap- 
tist he  meets  with.f  . 

IV.  It  is  not  perhaps  generally  known, 
how  much  superstition  prevails  in  respect 
of  the  repetition  of  prayers.  Protestants 
are  accustomed  to  censure,  as  one  of  the 
most  flagrant  of  Romish  corruptions,  the 
use  of  prayers  in  an  unknown  tongue : 
and  it  is  plain  that  it  makes  no  practical 
difference  to  the  individual  whether  the 


*  The  present  instance  illustrates  but  too  well 
what  has  been  above  said  respecting  the  connex- 
ion between  superstition  and  profaneness.  Both 
exist  in  a  remarkable  degree  in  relation  to  the  sa- 
crament of  baptism.  Few  of  my  readers,  I  fear, 
will  need  more  than  to  be  merely  reminded  of  the 
light  and  irreverent  application  of  the  term  "  Chris- 
tening," on  any  occasion  of  giving  "  a  name"  to 
any  thing.  Now  if  there  be  any  thing  intrinsi- 
cally reasonable  in  the  third  commandment,  it 
surely  is  applicable,  in  its  spirit,  not  merely  to  the 
name  of  God,  but  also  to  all  the  terms  appropri- 
ated to  his  ordinances ;  in  short,  to  all  the  lan- 
guage denoting  any  thing  sacred.  But  in  the 
present  case,  there  exists  a  more  palpable,  more  de- 
liberate, and  more  revolting  kind  of  profaneness, 
in  the  solemn  mockery  of  what  is  called  "  Christen- 
ing a  ship  ;"  in  which  the  sacrament  itself,  not  the 
mere  name  of  it,  is  regularly,  formally,  and  with 
obtrusive  pomp,  "taken  in  vain,"  to  the  secret 
scorn  and  triumph  of  infidels,  and  to  the  disgrace 
of  a  nation  calling  itself  Christian  and  Protestant. 

f  See  Essay  IX.  Second  series,  p.  323-6. 


words  he  utters  are  Latin  or  English,  so 
long1  as  they  convey  no  sense  to  his  mind. 
Now  the  practice  of  reciting  unmeaning 
prayers  (unmeaning,  that  is,  to  the  person 
using  them)  prevails  to  a  greater  extent 
than  perhaps  many  persons  are  aware. 
Many  probably  do  not  even  know  that 
there  are  invocations  to  angels  and  to  the 
four  Evangelists,  (which  it  is  to  be  hoped 
are  not  at  all  understood,)  in  use  at  the 
present  day  in  the  devotions  of  some 
among  the  more  ignorant  classes  of  pro- 
fessed Protestants.  I  know  that  the  cau- 
tion given  in  Dr.  Hawkins'  excellent 
"Manual  for  Christians  after  Confirma- 
tion," (ch.  v.  §.  1.)  that  "to  repeat  the 
creed  is  not  to  pray,"  startled  some  per- 
sons as  being  manifestly  needless.  But 
the  fact  bears  him  out.  The  practice  is 
by  no  means  uncommon  of  reciting  the 
Apostle's  creed  as  a  portion  of  prayer. 
Now  it  is  manifest  that  whoever  makes 
such  a  mistake,  might  just  as  well  recite 
it  in  Latin  as  in  English ;  since  it  is  plain 
he  cannot  understand  even  the  general 
sense  and  drift  of  it.  And  it  is  equally 
manifest  that  the  case  would  not  be  at  all 
altered,  if  the  formula  he  recited  really 
were  a  prayer ;  since  it  would  be  an  evi- 
dent superstition  to  attach  any  spiritual 
virtue  to  the  mere  utterance  by  rote,  in 
whatever  language,  of  words,  however  in 
themselves  appropriate. 

And  this  leads  me  to  remark,  that  the 
practice  of  teaching  or  allowing  very 
young  children  to  learn  by  heart*  prayers, 


SUPERSTITION.  23 

psalms,  portions  of  Scripture,  Sec.,  which 
they  are  incapable,  at  the  time,  of  under- 
standing, is  one  which  is  very  often  su- 
perstitious, and  almost  always  leads  to 
superstition.  I  say  "often"  superstitious, 
because  it  is  not  necessarily  so.  Some 
teachers  make  their  children  commit  these 
things  to  memory,  merely  as  an  exercise 
of  memory,  or  in  order  that  they  may 
know  the  words  against  the  time  when 
they  shall  become  competent  to  under- 
stand them,  without  giving  the  children 
any  notion,  that  in  repeating  these  words 
they  are  performing  a  devotional  act.* 
There  is  nothing  superstitious  in  this; 
though  I  cannot  but  think  it  a  most  inju- 


*  It  need  hardly  be  observed  how  important  it 
is,  with  a  view  to  these  objects,  to  abstain  carefully 
from  the  practice,  still  too  prevalent,  though  much 
less  so,  we  believe,  than  formerly,  of  compelling, 
or  encouraging,  or  even  allowing,  children  to  learn 
by  rote  forms  of  prayer,  catechisms,  hymns,  or  in 
short  any  thing  connected  with  morality  and  reli- 
gion, when  they  attach  no  meaning  to  the  words 
they  utter.  It  is  done  on  the  plea  that  they  will 
hereafter  learn  the  meaning  of  what  they  have  been 
thus  taught,  and  will  be  able  to  make  a  practical 
use  of  it.  But  no  attempt  at  economy  of  time  can 
be  more  injudicious.  Let  any  child,  whose  capacity 
is  so  far  matured  as  to  enable  him  to  comprehend 
an  explanation,  e.  g.  of  the  Lord's  prayer,  have  it 
then  put  before  him  for  the  first  time,  and  when 
he  is  made  acquainted  with  the  meaning  of  it,  set 
to  learn  it  by  heart ;  and  can  any  one  doubt  that 
in  less  than  half  a  day's  application  he  would  be 
able  to  repeat  it  fluently  ]  And  the  same  would 
be  the  case  with  other  forms.  All  that  is  thus 
learned  by  rote  by  a  child  before  he  is  competent 
to  attach  a  meaning  to  the  words  he  utters,  would 
not,  if  all  put  together,  amount  to  so  much  as 
would  cost  him,  when  able  to  understand  it,  a 
week's  labour  to  learn  perfectly.  Whereas  it  may 
cost  the  toil,  often  the  vain  toil,  of  many  years,  to 


unlearn  the  habit  of  formalism — of  repeating 
words  by  rote  without  attending  to  their  meaning ; 
a  habit  which  every  one  conversant  with  educa- 
tion knows  to  be  in  all  subjects  most  readily  ac- 
quired by  children,  and  with  difficulty  avoided 
even  with  the  utmost  care  of  the  teacher ;  but  which 
such  a  plan  must  inevitably  tend  to  generate.  It 
is  often  said,  and  very  truly,  that  it  is  important  to 
form  early  habits  of  piety ;  but  to  train  a  child  in 
one  kind  of  habit,  is  not  the  most  likely  way  of 
forming  the  opposite  one ;  and  nothing  can  be 
more  contrary  to  true  piety,  than  the  Popish  su- 
perstition (for  such  in  fact  it  is)  of  attaching  effi- 
cacy to  the  repetition  of  a  certain  form  of  words, 
as  of  a  charm,  independent  of  the  understanding 
and  of  the  heart. 

"  It  is  also  said  with  equal  truth,  that  we  ought 
to  take  advantage  of  the  facility  which  children  pos- 
sess of  learning  words :  but  to  infer  from  thence, 
that  Providence  designs  us  to  make  such  a  use 
(or  rather  abuse)  of  this  gift  as  we  have  been  cen- 
suring, is  as  if  we  were  to  take  advantage  of  the 
readiness  with  which  a  new  born  babe  swallows 
whatever  is  put  into  its  mouth,  to  dose  it  with  ar- 
dent spirits,  instead  of  wholesome  food  and  neces- 
sary medicine.  The  readiness  with  which  child- 
ren learn  and  remember  words,  is  in  truth  a  most 
important  advantage  if  rightly  employed ;  viz.,  if 
applied  to  the  acquiring  that  mass  of  what  may 
be  called  arbitrary  knowledge  of  insulated  facts, 
which  can  only  be  learned  by  rote,  and  which  is 
necessary  in  after  life;  when  the  acquisition  of  it 
would  both  be  more  troublesome,  and  would  en- 
croach on  time  that  might  Otherwise  be  better  em- 
ployed. Chronology,  names  of  countries,  weights 
and  measures,  and  indeed  all  the  words  of  any 
language,  are  of  this  description.  If  a  child  had 
even  ten  times  the  ordinary  degree  of  the  faculty 
in  question,  a  judicious  teacher  would  find  abund- 
ance of  useful  employment  for  it,  without  resort- 
ing to  any  that  could  possibly  be  detrimental  to 
his  future  habits,  moral,  religious,  or  intellectual." 
London  Review,  No.  II.  p.  41 2,  413. 

*  Query.  Do  they  always  teach  their  children 
other  prayers  also,  suitable  to  their  present  age  1 
or  do  they  account  them  altogether  unfit  for  any 
communion  with  God, as  children?  This  surely 
is  supplying  them  with  a  provision  of  "  strong 
meat,"  which  they  may  hereafter  "  be  able  to 
bear,"  while  they  withhold  the  necessary  immedi- 
ate nourishment  of  milk. 


24  SUPERSTITION. 

dicious  practice,  inasmuch  as  it  involves 
a  great  risk  of  most  serious  evils,  for  the 
sake  of  a  benefit  immeasurably  minute. 
To  learn  the  same  prayers,  &c.,  in  Latin 
or  in  Greek,  would  be,  as  an  exercise  of 
the  memory,  equally  good,  and  in  other 
respects  much  better.  For  when  the 
learner  was  afterwards,  at  a  riper  age,  pre- 
sented with  a  translation  of  these  words,  the 
sense  would  strike  him,  and  would  perhaps 
arouse  his  attention,  and  excite  his  devo- 
tional feelings.  Every  one  who  knows 
what  it  is  to  (not  merely  say  his  prayers, 
but)  really  pray,  must  be  conscious  that 
a  continual  effort  is  requisite  to  prevent  a 
form  of  words,  with  which  he  is  very 
familiar,  from  sliding  over  the  ear  or  the 
tongue,  without  being  properly  attend- 
ed to,  and  accompanied  by  the  heart  and 
the  understanding.  Now  the  liability  to 
this  formal  repetition  of  words,  and  the 
difficulty  of  avoiding  it,  must  be  greatly 
increased,  if  the  words  have  been  famili- 
arly learned  by  rote  at  a  time  when  the  un- 
derstanding could  not  possibly  accompany 
the  recitation,  from  their  being  beyond  a 
child's  comprehension.  Add  to  which, 
that  a  painful  association  is  thus  formed 
in  the  child's  mind,  between  all  the  col- 
lects and  texts,  &c.,  he  has  been  thus  learn- 
ing, and  the  idea  of  a  dull,  irksome,  unin- 
teresting, and  unmeaning  task. 

Some  however  find  that  their  children 
do  not  regard  such  repetitions  as  a  pain- 
ful, or  even  an  uninteresting  task,  but 
consider  themselves,  though  they  do  not 
understand  what  they  utter,  as  performing 
an  act  of  devotion.  Now  this  is  pre- 
cisely the  case  1  have  more  particularly 
in  view  at  present.  The  other  just  men- 
tioned, of  learning  the  words  merely  as  an 
exercise  of  memory,  is  likely  to  lead  to 
superstition;  but  this  is  itself  supersti- 
tious. For  what  do  the  Romanists  more, 
that  make  devotion  consist  in  repeating  a 
hallowed  form  of  words,  with  a  general 
intention  indeed  of  praying,  but  without 
accompanying  with  the  understanding  the 
words  uttered  ? 

But,  it  may  be  replied,  a  child  does  un- 
derstand something  of  what  he  is  saying, 
if  he  does  but  understand  that  it  is  a 
prayer  for  some  divine  blessing ;  (an  argu- 
ment which  maybe,  and  is,  urged  by  the 
Romanists  in  behalf  of  their  Latin  prayers;) 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  wisest  man 
cannot  be  said  completely  to  understand 
his  prayers,  since  the  nature  of  the  Being 
he  addresses  must  be  mysterious  to  him. 
In  many  cases  it  happens  that  it  is  difficult 
to  draw  a  precise  line  in  theory,  while,' 


in  practice,  common   sense  leads  every 
one  to  distinguish  sufficiently.     It  is  dif- 
ficult, for  instance,  [vid.  Hor.  Epist.  i.  b. 
ii.  line  35,]   to  lay  down  exactly  how 
many  years  ago  an  author  must  have  lived 
to  be  called  "ancient;" — how  many  grains 
of  corn  will  make  a  heap,  &.c.     But  as 
in  other  cases,  so  in  this,  men  are  sel- 
dom at  a  loss  to  perceive,  with  a  sufficient 
I  approximation  to  truth  for  practical  pur- 
poses, the  distinction  between  what  is, 
and  what  is  not,  u  understood."     When- 
ever a  child  is  capable  (which  is  generally 
at  a  very  early  age)  of  comprehending 
!  what  prayer  is,  there  must  be  some  mode 
!  of  expressing  a  prayer  which  will  be  in- 
|  telligible  to   him ;  let  this  expression  be 
j  then  adopted ;  let  him  employ  the  form 
which  he  can  best  understand,  and  which 
may  be  subsequently  modified   and   en- 
larged, as  his  understanding  advances. 

No  doubt,  a  prayer  thus  adapted  to  the 
capacity  of  a  child  must  be  childish;  how 
can  any  natural^  fervent,  hearty  devotions 
of  a  child,  be  otherwise  than  childish  ? 
Is  it  any  disparagement  to  the  devotions 
of  grown  men,  that  they  are  human,  and 
not  angelic  ?  Let  those  who,  for  the  sake 
of  a  form  of  words  intrinsically  better, 
teach  children  prayers  not  adapted  to  the 
puerile  understanding — let  them,  I  say,  re- 
flect on  what  grounds  they  can  convict  the 
Romanists  of  superstition  on  account  of 
their  Pater-nosters.  If  there  be  any  intrin- 
sic holiness  in  words  which  renders  them 
in  themselves  acceptable,  whether  we  wor- 
ship "  in  spirit  and  in  truth,"  or  not, 
then,  surely,  Latin  words  may  have  this 
efficacy.  But  the  intrinsic  sanctity  of  the 
words  of  the  Lord's  prayer,  for  instance, 
is  the  same  only  as  that  of  the  wood  of 
the  true  cross.  This  was  an  instrument 
of  the  salvation  of  mankind  when  the  Re- 
deemer was  offered  upon  it;  the  other  is 
a  means  of  grace  when  devoutly  offered 
up,  "  with  the  heart  and  with  the  under- 
standing also,"  in  the  name  of  that  Re- 
deemer :  but  the  child  who  repeats  the 
words  by  rote  is  no  more  benefited  by 
them,  than  by  carrying  about  him  a  piece 
of  the  wood  of  the  cross.  And  in  both 
cases,  positive  harm  is  done  instead  of 
benefit,  by  the  misdirection  of  religious 
feeling. 

I  have  heard  it  urged,  that  a  child  would 
be  accounted  a  fool,  if  when  sent  to 
school  he  should  be  found  unable  to  re- 
peat the  Lord's  prayer.  And  certainly  a 
child  of  average  intelligence  would  usu- 
ally be  able,  before  the  age  supposed,  to 
comprehend  an  explanation  of  that  prayer; 


SUPERSTITION. 


25 


which  of  course  should  not  be  withheld 
one  moment  after  it  can  be  understood. 
But  at  all  events,  it  is  surely  better,  when 
that  is  the  alternative,  that  a  child  should 
be  reckoned  a  fool,  without  being  so,  than 
that  he  should  be  so,  without  its  being  de- 
tected ;  nor  can  it  be  doubted  that  there 
is  real  folly,  whether  apparent  or  not, 
in  superstitiously  attribiting  efficacy  to  an 
unmeaning  form  of  words. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  observe,  that 
the  whole  of  the  above  reasoning  applies 
equally  to  the  practice  of  taking  little 
children  to  church.* 

V.  There  is  also  a  strong  tendency  to 
superstition  in  all  that  relates  to  the  place 
and  mode  of  interment  of  a  corpse. 
Many  of  my  readers  must  have  observed, 
that  in  a  great  number  of  church-yards, 
the  north  side  is  almost  entirely  unte- 
nanted  by  graves,  through  a  certain  vague 
notion  of  its  being  "  unlucky"  to  be  buried 
there.  The  origin  I  believe  of  this  feeling 
is  to  be  found  in  the  Romish  practice  of 
praying  for  the  dead.  The  principal 
entrance  to  almost  all  churches  being 
on  the  south,  one  who  was  interred  on 
the  north,  would  be  the  less  likely  to  ob- 
tain the  passing  prayers  of  his  surviving 
neighbours,  as  they  were  proceeding  to 
public  worship.  But  however  this  may 
be,  and  however  little  the  origin  of  any 
superstition  may  be  known  or  remember- 
ed, every  thing,  it  is  plain,  is  supersti- 
tious, and  of  the  most  mischievous  class, 
which  goes  to  connect  the  repose  of  the 
soul  with  any  thing  that  takes  place  after 
a  man's  death.  And  continual  watchful- 
ness is  requisite  to  prevent  superstitions 
of  this  kind  from  being  engrafted  on  the 
practice  of  interring  the  dead  in  church- 
yards, and  performing  the  funeral-service 

*  Our  Liturgy,  however,  is  evidently  neither 
adapted  nor  designed  for  children ;  even  those 
of  such  an  age  as  to  be  fully  capable  of  joining  in 
congregational  worship,  were  there  a  service  suit- 
ably composed  on  purpose  for  them.  To  frame 
and  introduce  such  a  service  would  not,  I  think, 
be  regarded  as  a  trifling  improvement,  if  we  could 
but  thoroughly  get  rid  of  the  principle  of  the  Ro- 
mish lip-service.  We  cannot  too  much  "  take 
thought  for  the  morrow,"  in  matters  relating  to 
"  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness  ;" 
now  children  are  emphatically  the  morrow  of  so- 
ciety ;  and  in  all  that  relates  to  religious  and  moral 
training,  they  are  far  the  more  important  part  of  it ; 
for  we  know  that  if  we  "  train  up  a  child  in  the 
way  that  he  should  go,  when  he  is  old  he  will  not 
depart  from  it :"  while,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is 
too  often  a  vain  attempt  to  remedy,  by  instruction 
to  adults,  the  want  of  this  early  training.  If  we 
would  but  duly  take  care  of  children,  grown  peo- 
ple would  generally  take  care  of  themselves. 


over  them.  Nothing  can  be  more  proper 
than  to  choose  such  an  occasion  for  the 
performance  of  devotional  duties  ; — and  to 
set  aside  a  spot  of  ground  for  the  decent 
interment  of  the  dead  ; — nothing  more 
natural  and  blameless,  than  the  wish  that 
our  mortal  remains  should  repose  by  the 
side  of  our  friends  and  relatives  :  but  the 
best  things  are  liable  to  abuse ;  and  the 
more  sedulously,  in  most  places,  the 
pastor  studies  the  habitual  sentiments  of 
his  flock,  the  less  will  he  be  disposed  to 
regard  as  superfluous  an  especial  watch- 
fulness on  this  particular  point ; — a  con- 
stant care  to  check  the  superstitious 
idea,  that  either  the  consecrated  ground, 
(whether  within  or  without  the  church,) 
or  the  funeral-service,  have  any  thing  to 
do  with  the  individual's  future  destiny. 
And  the  more  care  and  diligence  is  re- 
quisite for  the  detection  of  these  and 
similar  superstitions,  inasmuch  as  those 
enslaved  to  them  are  often  ashamed  of 
them,  and  consequently  disposed  to  con- 
ceal their  real  sentiments  ;  especially  from 
any  one  whom  they  perceive  to  be  not 
disposed  to  sympathise  with  them.  The 
exercise  of  this  vigilance,  accordingly,  by 
any  one  who  had  not  heretofore  deemed 
it  needful,  would  be  very  likely  to  bring 
to  his  knowledge  much  that  would  sur- 
prise him.  I  have  known,  for  instance, 
a  person,  in  speaking  of  a  deceased  neigh- 
bour, whose  character  had  been  irreli- 
gious and  profligate,  remark,  how  great  a 
comfort  it  was  to  hear  the  words  of  the 
funeral-service  read  over  her,  "  because, 
poor  woman,  she  had  been  such  a  bad  liver." 
I  have  heard  of  an  instance  again,  of  a 
superstition,  probably  before  unsuspected, 
being  accidentally  brought  to  light,  by  the 
minister's  having  forbidden  a  particular 
corpse  to  be  brought  into  the  church,  be- 
cause the  person  had  never  frequented  it 
when  alive:  the  consequence  of  which  was, 
that  many  old  people  began  immediately 
to  frequent  the  church,  who  had  before  been 
in  the  habit  of  absenting  themselves. 

§.  10.  All  these  and  numberless  other 
such  superstitions,  it  was  the  business 
of  the  Romish  priesthood,  not  to  intro- 
duce indeed,  but  to  encourage  and  main- 
tain, inasmuch  as  they  almost  all  tend  to 
increase  the  influence  and  wealth  of  the 
hierarchy :  let  it  be  the  Protestant  pas- 
tor's business,  not  only  to  abstain  from 
;  conniving  at  or  favouring  any  thing  of  the 
kind,  but  (remembering  that  the  original 
source  of  superstition  is  not  in  the  church 
of  Rome,  but  in  the  heart  of  man)  to  be 
ever  on  the  watch  against  its  inroads 
C 


26 


SUPERSTITION. 


from   various   quarters,   and   in   various 
shapes. 

It  is  evidently  not  enough  to  avoid  and 
discountenance  every  thing  that  is  in  itself 
superstitious; — such  as  (in  addition  to 
several  of  the  things  just  mentioned)  the 
consulting  of  pretended  witches  and 
soothsayers — faith  in  dreams  and  omens, 
and  in  lucky  and  unlucky  days;  with 
many  superstitions,  of  the  same  character; 
from  which  many  even  of  the  higher 
orders,  in  point  of  birth  and  station,  are 
by  no  means  wholly  exempt,  but  which 
prevail  to  a  much  greater  extent  than  1 
believe  most  persons  who  have  not  been 
much  and  confidentially  conversant  with 
the  lower,  and  those  somewhat  above  the 
lower,  ranks,  are  at  all  inclined  to  sus- 
pect. Nor  again,  is  it  enough  to  reject 
and  to  discourage  all  such-  practices  as, 
without  being  necessarily  and  in  them- 
selves superstitious,  are,  either  generally, 
or  at  any  particular  time  and  place,  pecu- 
liarly liable  to  be  abused  to  a  superstitious 
purpose,  while  they  may,  without  any 
great  loss,  be  dispensed  with;  such  as 
were  many  of  those  practices  of  the  Ro- 
mish church  which  our  Reformers  "  brake 
in  pieces,"  as  Hezekiah  did  the~  brazen 
serpent;  not  as  originally  evil, but  as  the 
occasion  of  superstition.  All  this,  I  say, 
is  insufficient;  because  there  are  so  many 
things  which  we  cannot  dispense  \vith, 
which  yet  are  continually  liable  to  be- 
come no  better  than  superstitious,  through 
the  superstitious  character  of  "  the  natural 
man."  We  cannot  dispense  with  the 
sacraments  which  Christ  appointed ; — 
with  prayer,  both  public  and  private ; — 
with  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures ; — with 
instructions  from  the  ministers  of  the 
Gospel ; — with  buildings  and  days  set 
apart,  either  wholly  or  partly,  for  these 
purposes.  Yet  these,  and  every  thing 
else  of  this  kind,  are  perpetually  liable 
to  be  abused,  and  indeed  I  fear  perpetually 
are  abused,  into  occasions  of  superstition. 
Our  prayers  and  our  study  of  Scripture 
are,  as  I  have  above  remarked,  superstiti- 
ous, when  we  trust  in  the  efficacy  of  the 
words,  without  earnestly  praying  with 
the  heart,  and  labouring  to  gain  instruc- 
tion in  religion :  the  hearing  of  sermons 
is  very  commonly  made  an  occasion  of 
superstition,  when  a  merit  is  attached  to 
the  act  of  hearing  instruction,  without 
labouring  to  understand,  and  profitably 
apply,  that  instruction.  The  sanctity 
belonging  to  the  "  church"  of  Christ,  i.  e. 
to  the  body  of  believers  who  are  ^  the 
temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost  which  dwell- 


eth  in  them,"*  is  commonly  transferred 
to  the  building  in  which  a  congregation 
assembles ;  while  the  veneration  for  that 
building  is  shown  not  so  much  in  an 
earnest  endeavour  that  the  prayers  of- 
fered up,  and  the  instructions  given  there, 
may  be  profitable  to  the  soul,  as  in  a 
superstitious  feeling  of  satisfaction  on  the 
supposed  merit  of  having,  in  bodily  pre- 
sence, frequented  it  during  life,  with  per- 
haps a  hope  of  future  security,  from  the 
lifeless  body's  reposing  within  its  walls. 
The  sacraments  again,  as  1  have  said,  be- 
come superstitious  to  those  who  deeply 
venerate,  and  trust  in,  the  "  outward  visi- 
ble sign,"  without  thinking  of  any  inward 
spiritual  efforts  after  the  inward  spiritual 
grace.  And  yet  all  these,  and  many  other 
such  occasions  of  superstition,  (for  such 
they  doubtless  are  often  made,)  are  what 
we  cannot  dispense  with.  The  more 
vigilance  therefore  must  we  use  in  our 
own  case,  and  inculcate  upon  others,  in 
guarding  against  the  inroads  of  superstition. 

In  no  point  we  may  be  assured  is  our 
spiritual  enemy  more  vigilant :  he  is  ever 
ready,  not  merely  to  tempt  us  with  the 
unmixed  poison  of  known  sin,  but  to  cor- 
rupt even  our  food,  and  to  taint  even  our 
medicine,  with  the  venom  of  his  falsehood. 
For  religion  is  the  medicine  of  the  soul ; 
it  is  the  designed  and  appropriate  preven- 
tive and  remedy  for  the  evils  of  our  na- 
ture ;  the  subtle  tempter  well  knows  that 
no  other  allurements  to  sin  would  be  of 
so  much  avail,  if  this  medicine  were  as- 
siduously applied,  and  applied  in  una- 
dulterated purity :  and  he  knows  that 
superstition  is  the  specific  poison  which 
may  be  the  most  easily  blended  with  true 
religion,  and  which  will  the  most  com- 
pletely destroy  its  efficacy. 

It  is  for  us  then  to  take  heed  that  the 
"  light  which  is  in  us  be  not  darkness" — 
that  our  religion  be  kept  pure  from  the 
noxious  admixture  of  superstition  :  and  it 
is  for  us  to  observe  the  errors  of  others, 


*  It  is  strange,  and  it  is  unfortunate,  that  so 
many  should  have  not  only  overlooked  the  appli- 
cation of  the  term  "  temple,"  by  the  Apostles, 
invariably  to  Christians  collectively,  never  to  the 
individual  Christian,  but  should  have  even  as- 
serted the  contrary,  on  the  strength  of  one  text, 
(1  Cor.  vi.  19,)  which  according  to  all  fair  rules 
of  interpretation  exhibits  (especially  in  the  ori- 
ginal Greek)  the  same  sense  as  the  rest  of  the  pas- 
sages where  the  word  occurs.  The  apostle  must 
have  had  some  meaning  in  his  constant  adherence 
to  a  form  of  speech  by  no  means  obvious :  and 
that  meaning,  whatever  it  is,  we  are  not  likely  to 
take  in,  if  we  do  not  ai,end  to  his  language.  See 
Hinds'  «  Three  Temples  of  the  One  God." 


VICARIOUS  RELIGION. 


with  a  view  to  our  own  correction  and  to 
our  own  preservation;  instead  of  con- 
templating "  the  mote  that  is  in  our 
brother's  eye,  while  we  behold  not  the 
beam  that  is  in  our  own  eye."  Our  con- 
science, if  we  carefully  regulate,  and  dili- 
gently consult  it,  will  be  ready,  after  we 


have  seen  and  condemned  (which  is  no 
hard  task)  the  faults  of  our  neighbour,  to 
furnish  us  (where  there  is  need)  with  that 
salutary  admonition,  which  the  self- 
blinded  king  of  Israel  received  from  the 
mouth  of  the  prophet;  "Thou  art  the 
man." 


CHAP.  II. 
VICARIOUS  RELIGION. 


§.  1.  THE  Apostle  Paul,  in  many  pas- 
sages in  his  Epistles,  characterizes  the 
Christian  religion*  as  containing  "  mys- 
teries," that  is,  truths  not  discoverable  by 
human  reason,  but  made  known  by  Di- 
vine revelation :  as,  for  instance,  in  his 
First  Epistle  to  Timothy 4  u  without  con- 
troversy great  is  the  mystery  of  godli- 
ness." 

And  it  is  very  important  to  observe, 
that  in  all  the  passages  (and  they  are  very 
numerous)  in  which  he  applies  the  word 
Mystery  (f*v?ritft9»)  to  the  Christian  faith, 
or  to  any  part  of  it,  the  circumstance  to 
which  he  is  directing  the  reader's  atten- 
tion is,  not  the  concealment,  but  the  dis- 
closure, of  the  mystery.  He  implies  in- 
deed that  the  truths  so  described  were 
formerly  unknown,  and  could  not  be 
known  by  man's  unaided  powers  ;  but  he 
speaks  of  them  as  now  at  length  laid 
open,  by  the  gracious  dispensation  of 
Providence ;  as  no  longer  concealed,  ex- 
cept from  those  who  wilfully  shut  their 
eyes  against  the  light  of  divine  revelation  : 
tt  if  our  Gospel  is  hid,  it  is  hid  to  them 
that  are  lost,  whom  the  god  of  this  world 
hath  blinded ;"  and  his  own  office  in 
"proclaiming  the  good  tidings"*  of  this 
revelation,  he  describes  as  "  making 
known  the  mystery  of  the  Gospel," 
"  which  was  kept  secret  since  the  world 
began,  but  now  is  made  manifest." 

Not  that  the  apostle  meant  to  imply 
but  that,  after  all,  the  nature  and  designs 
of  the  Most  High  must  be  by  us  very  im- 
perfectly understood ;  but  the  circum- 
stance to  which  he  is  especially  calling 

*  For  that  is  evidently  the  meaning  of  the  ex- 
pression, »'  ijyt^ttA,  which  our  translators  have 
rendered  "  godliness." 

j-  Chap.  iii.  16. 

$  This  we  should  always  rememher  is  the  strict 
sense  of  the  phrase  xagiWav  TO  Eua^ye^Kv,  which 
we  usually  render,  in  words  which  by  familiarity 
have  almost  lost  their  original  force,  "  preaching 
the  Gospel." 


I  attention  is,  not  the  unrevealed,  but  the 
;  revealed — not  the  unintelligible,  but  the 
explained — portion  of  the  divine  dispensa- 
tions. 

And  tliis  he  does,  in  manifest  allusion 
to  the  mysteries  of  the  ancient  Pagan  re- 
ligions ;  with  which,  in  this  respect,  he 
contrasts  Christianity ;  inasmuch  as  in 
this  last  there  was  not,  as  among  the 
Pagans,  a  distinction  between  the  initiated 
and  the  uninitiated  ; — a  revelation  to  some 
of  the  worshippers  of  certain  holy  secrets 
|  from  which  the  rest  were  excluded  ;  nor 
great  mysteries  and  lesser  mysteries,  (as 
the  Eleusinian,)  in  which  different  per- 
sons were  initiated ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
the  "great"  mysteries  of  the  Christian 
faith  (pty»  pwrtgior)  were  made  known, 
as  far  as  it  is  expedient  and  possible  for 
man  to  know  them,  to  all  alike,  whether 
Jew  or  Gentile,  who  were  but  willing  to 
embrace  the  truth  :  and  "  to  know  the 
fellowship"  (i.  e.  the  common  participa- 
tion) "  of  the  mystery,"  KOU/U/HX.  rov 
pvffTiipov,  was  offered  to  all.  There  was 
not  one  system  of  religion  for  a  certain 
favoured  few,  and  another  for  the  mass 
of  believers ;  but  the  great  "  mystery  of 
godliness"  was  made  accessible,  gradually 
indeed,  in  proportion  as  they  were  able 
to  bear  it,  but  universally.  To  all  Christ's 
disciples  it  was  "  given  to  know  the  mys- 
teries of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;"*  there 
was  "  one  Lord,  one  faith,  one  baptism," 
and  (though  with  diversity  of  gifts)  one 

*  Matt.  xiii.  11.  "To  you  it  is  given  to  know 
the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom,"  &c.  An  objection 
has  been  raised  from  this  passage,  because  it  is 
said  that  the  others,  viz.,  those  who  were  not  dis- 
ciples, were  not  admitted  to  the  same  advantage. 
But  why  did  they  not  become  disciples  1  If  Jesus 
had  rested  his  claims  on  the  apparent  reasonable- 
ness of  what  he  taught,  it  would  have  been  most 
unfair  to  require  men  to  join  him  before  they 
fully  understood  it :  but  his  claim  rested  on  the 
"  mighty  works,"  which  afforded  sufficient  proof 
of  his  coming  from  God. 


28 


VICARIOUS  RELIGION. 


and  the  same  spirit  sanctifying  the  church, 
and  dwelling  in  all  its  members. 

The  opposite  system  to  this — that  of 
recognizing  different  degrees  of  access  to 
the  Deity,  and  of  keeping  certain  sacred 
rites  and  holy  secrets  confined  to  a  few, 
and  set  apart  from  the  multitude — is  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  characteristics  of 
natural  religion ;  by  which  expression  I 
mean,  not  what  is  commonly,  though  im- 
properly, so  called  ;  but,  such  a  religious 
system  as  men  naturally  fall  into,  when 
left  to  themselves. 

The  case  of  the  Eleusinian  mysteries, 
above  alluded  to,  is  only  one  instance 
out  of  many.  Indeed  I  believe  there  is 
hardly  any  system  of  Paganism  with 
which  we  are  acquainted,  that^  has  not 
some  articles  of  faith — some  religious 
rites — some  kind  of  pretended  theological 
knowledge — confined,  either  to  the  priests 
or  to  some  privileged  order  of  men,  and 
from  which  the  great  body  of  worshipers 
is  either  excluded,  or  at  least  exempted. 

It  might  be  expected  therefore  that  this 
character  should  be  found  (as  in  fact  it  is) 
in  the  Romish  system;  which  I  have 
already  described  as  the  gradual  and  (if  I 
may  be  allowed  the  expression)  sponta- 
neous corruption  of  Christianity,  by  the 
natural  unrestrained  workings  oif  the  hu- 
man mind. 

Men  readily  perceived,  what  indeed  is 
very  true,  that  those  who  have  leisure  and 
abilities  beyond  what  falls  to  the  lot  of 
the  generality,  are  enabled,  and  may  be 
expected,  to  acquire  a  larger  share  of 
learning,  generally,  and,  among  the  rest, 
of  theological  learning  :  while  the  proper 
object  of  this  theological  learning  (under 
such  a  system  as  that  of  Christianity)  is 
often  lost  sight  of,  viz.,  to  establish  the 
authority,  and  ascertain  and  explain  the 
meaning,  of  the  sacred  writings.  And 
again,  men  readily  perceived,  that  there 
are  many  points  connected  with  religion 
which  are  in  a  great  degree  beyond  their 
comprehension ;  without  accurately  dis- 
tinguishing which  are  so  from  their  own 
deficiency  in  learning,  and  which  from 
being  beyond  the  reach  of  the  human 
faculties. 

The  learned,  on  the  other  hand,  or 
such  as  aspired  to  that  character,  felt,  of 
course,  the  natural  love  of  distinction  the 
more  gratified,  in  proportion  as  their 
studies  were  supposed  to  be  directed  to 
points  the  most  abstruse  and  recondite — 
to  some  knowledge  respecting  things 
divine,  beyond  the  understanding,  and  too 
sacred  for  the  inquiries  of  ordinary  men. 


At  the  same  time,  the  natural  inquisi- 
tiveness  of  the  human  mind  after  specu- 
lative knowledge,  especially  on  the  most 
exalted  subjects,  having  led  theologians 
to  overlook  the  practical  character  of  the 
Christian  revelation,  and  to  indulge  in 
presumptuous  disquisitions  as  to  the  in- 
trinsic nature  of  the  Deity,  this  circum- 
stance could  not  but  contribute  still  more 
to  set  apart  a  certain  portion  of  (sup- 
posed) divine  knowledge  as  unnecessary, 
and  unfit,  for  vulgar  contemplation.  Mys- 
terious doctrines  unconnected  with  Chris- 
tian practice,  at  least  with  such  practice 
as  was  required  from  the  great  mass  of 
Christians,  it  was  sufficient  that  they 
should  assent  to  with  implicit  faith,  with- 
out attempting  to  examine  the  proofs  of 
such  matters — to  understand  the  doctrines 
themselves — or  even  to  know  what  they 
were :  "  I  do  not  presume,  nor  am  able, 
to  comprehend  the  mysteries  of  the  faith, 
but  leave  them  to  my  spiritual  guides;  I 
believe  all  that  the  holy  catholic  church 
receives ; — such  was  the  language — such 
the  easy  and  compendious  confession  of 
faith — which  resulted  from  the  indolence 
— the  spiritual  carelessness — the  weak- 
ness, and  the  dishonest  ambition,  of  hu- 
man nature. 

The  unprofitable,  absurd,  presumptu- 
ous, and  profane  speculations  of  scholastic 
theologians  (not  all  of  them  members  of 
the  Romish  church)  which  are  extant, 
afford  a  melancholy  specimen  of  the  fruits 
of  this  mistake  as  to  the  Christian  myste- 
ries— this  "  corruption  from  the  simplicity 
that  is  in  Christ." 

Specimens  of  this  "  philosophy  and  vain 
deceit," — such  as  are  to  be  found  in  va- 
rious dissertations  on  what  are  called  the 
mysterious  doctrines  of  the  Christian  faith 
— such  as  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  tran- 
scribe, and  cannot  even  think  of  without 
shuddering — it  may  be  sometimes  a  pro- 
fitable though  a  painful  task  to  peruse,  in 
order  to  estimate  duly,  as  a  warning  and 
admonition  to  ourselves,  the  effects  of 
misapplied  learning  and  misdirected  in- 
genuity. To  select  one  instance  out  of 
many,  no  point  in  these  systems  of  specu- 
lative theology  has  so  much  exercised 
the  perverted  powers  of  divines  of  this 
stamp,  as  the  mystery  of  the  Trinity;*  or 

*  The  selection  of  this  particular  doctrine  by 
way  of  illustration  was  suggested  by  the  circum- 
stance, that  the  discourse,  of  which  the  following 
pages  contain  the  substance,  was  delivered  before 
the  University  on  Trinity-Sunday.  I  have  re- 
tained the  passage,  because  I  can  think  of  no  other 
instance  that  better  illustrates  what  has  been  said. 


VICARIOUS  RELIGION. 


as  they  might  with  more  propriety  have 
called  it,  the  mystery  of  the  divine  Unity: 
for  though  in  itself  the  doctrine  so  sedu- 
lously inculcated  throughout  the  Scrip- 
tures, that  there  is  hut  One  God,  seems  to 
present  no  revolting  difficulty,  yet,  on 
rising  from  the  disquisitions  of  many 
scholastic  divines  on  the  inherent  dis- 
tinctions of  the  three  Divine  Persons,  a 
candid  reader  cannot  but  feel  that  they 
have  made  the  Unity  of  God  the  great 
and  difficult  mystery;*  and  have  in  fact 


*  It  is,  however,  important  to  remark,  that 
though  the  Unity  of  the  Deity  is  not  in  itself  a 
doctrine  of  very  mysterious  difficulty,  it  is  one 
which  is  the  more  earnestly  dwelt  on  in  Scripture, 
besides  other  reasons,  for  one  resulting  from  the 
tone  of  the  Scriptures  themselves.  For  they  would, 
but  for  these  express  declarations,  naturally  lead 
the  reader  either  to  believe  in  three  Gods,  or  at 
least  to  be  in  doubt  on  the  question.  The  doc- 
trine of  the  Trinity  is  not  so  much  declared  as  a 
distinct  article  of  faith,  as  it  is  implied  by  the 
whole  history  recorded,  and  views  every  where 
taken,  in  Scripture,  of  God's  threefold  manifesta- 
tion of  himself;  which  are  such  as  would  present 
to  our  minds  nothing  inconsistent  with  the  agency 
of  three  Divine  Beings  acting  in  concert,  were  it 
not  that  such  sedulous  care  is  taken  to  assure  us 
of  the  numerical  Unity  of  the  God  thus  manifested 
to  us; — that  in  the  Son  "dwelleth  all  the  fulness 
of  the  Godhead,"  &c.  &c.  See  Essay  vii.  (Second 
Series,)  p.  234,  235,  and  Essay  ix.  p.  277 — 281. 
See  also  Hinds'  "Three  Temples  of  the  One 
God,"  p.  129,  132,  for  a  most  luminous  view  of 
this  important  subject. 

The  reader  is  also  referred  to  the  Articles 
"  One,"  and  "  Person,"  in  the  Appendix  to  the 
"  Elements  of  Logic."  It  has  been  doubted  whe- 
ther there  is  any  foundation  for  the  suspicion  I 
have  there  expressed,  that  the  language  of  some 
divines  has  ti  leaning  towards  Tritheism.  The 
following  extract  will  at  once  explain  my  mean- 
ing, and  prove,  I  conceive,  satisfactorily,  that  my 
apprehensions  are  not  altogether  groundless.  It  is 
taken  from  a  work  of  considerable  merit,  and 
which  has  obtained  not  only  much  popularity,  but 
also  a  peculiarly  high  description  of  patronage. 
Several  of  my  readers  will  perhaps  recognize  the 
passage;  but  I  purposely  avoid  naming  the  book, 
because  it  is  not  my  object  to  discuss  the  merits 
of  this  or  that  individual  work,  but  to  call  atten- 
tion to  the  notions  which  are  afloat  in  the  world, 
generally ;  and  I  am  so  far  from  designing  to  par- 
ticularize the  work  in  question,  as  containing  any 
thing  novel,  peculiar,  likely  to  be  generally  offen- 
sive, and  at  variance  with  prevailing  opinions, 
that  my  meaning  is  the  very  reverse. 

"  When  the  great  Creator  had  finished  the  rest 
of  his  works,  wanting  another  creature  to  rule 
them  all,  and  as  their  Priest,  to  adore  him  in  their 
name,  he  said,  <  Let  us  make  man  in  our  own 
image,  after  our  likeness.'  In  the  creation  of  other 
things  all  is  done  with  the  tone  of  command,  or 
with  a  mere  volition.  '  Let  there  be  light ;  let 
there  be  a  firmament;  let  the  earth  bring  forth  so 
and  so.'  But  when  man  is  to  be  made — a  crea- 
ture who  is  to  be  endued  with  reason  and  intelli- 


so  nearly  explained  it  away,  and  so  be- 
wildered the  minds  of  their  disciples,  as 
to  drive  them  to  withdraw  their  thoughts 
habitually  and  deliberately  from  every 
thing  connected  with  the  subject:*  as  the 
only  mode  left  for  the  unlearned  to  keep 
clear  of  error.  Yet  it  might  have  occur- 
red, one  would  have  thought,  to  both 
parties,  that  learning  cannot  advance  one 
man  beyond  another  in  the  comprehen- 
sion of  things  which  are  confessedly  be- 
yond the  reach  of  the  human  faculties 
altogether; — that  in  total  darkness,  or  in 
respect  of  objects  beyond  our  horizon, 
the  clearest  and  the  dimmest  sight  are  on 
a  level; — and  that  of  matters  relating  to 
the  Deity  and  revealed  by  him,  not  as  a 
special  secret,  to  a  favoured  few,  but  to 
all  who  would  hear  his  voice,  and  which 
cannot  be  discovered  any  otherwise  than 
through  this  revelation — of  these,  none 
need  know  less,  and  none  can  know  more, 
than  the  Almighty  has  thus  revealed. 

The  nature  of  God  as  he  is  in  himself, 
can  never  be  comprehended  by  the  wisest 
of  his  creatures;  but  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity,  and  the  rest  of  the  mysteries  of 
the  Gospel,  as  far  as  they  relate  to  us, 
since  he  has  thought  fit  to  reveal  these 
to  us  in  the  Gospel,  every  Christian  is  al- 
lowed, and  is  bound,  to  learn  from  that 
revelation  "  of  the  mystery  which  was 
secret  from  the  beginning  of  the  world, 
but  now  is  made  manifest  ;"f  And  the 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  (which  is  perhaps 
the  oftenest  of  any  treated,  as  a  specula- 
tive truth  about  which  none  but  learned 
divines  need  trouble  themselves,)  as  it  is 
a  summary  of  that  faith  intoj  which  we 


gence — the  very  image  of  the  Maker — he  uses  an 
expression  which  indicates  deliberation  and  coun- 
sel; he  consults  with  some  other  august  Beings, 
(the  two  remaining  Persons  of  the  Trinity,  no 
doubt,)  of  whom,  as  well  as  of  himself,  man  was 
to  be  both  the  workmanship  and  the  resemblance/' 
If  this  passage  had  stood  alone  in  the  Jewish 
Scriptures,  or  if  the  Jews  had  interpreted  it,,  as 
this  writer  has  done,  without  any  reference  to  the 
other  passages  of  Scripture  which  serve  to  qualify 
and  guard  it,  they  would  doubtless  (as  the  above 
extract  seems  to  show)  have  adopted  nearly  the 
same  hypothesis  as  was  long  afterward  broached 
by  Arius; — that  the  supreme  God  acts  in  concert 
"  with  some  other  august  Beings !" 

*  I  am  enabled  to  state  this  as  no  mere  conjec- 
ture or  suspicion,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  coming 
within  my  own  experience ;  I  mean,  in  respect  of 
sundry  individual  cases;  and  it  is  individual  cases 
only  that  come  within  the  province  of  experience. 

f  Rom.  xvi.  25. 

*  Teach  all  nations,  baptizing  them  into  the 
name  (tic  TO  'ovow*)  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son, 
and  of  the  Holy  Ghost:"  this  is  evidently  the  right 
rendering  of  the  original  words,  and  conveys  the 

c2 


30 


VICARIOUS  RELIGION. 


are  baptized,  and  the  key-stone  of  the 
Christian  system,  ought  to  be  set  forth 
continually  and  universally,  as  the  sup- 
port of  every  part  of  the  building  of  the 
Christian  faith,  and  the  Christian  life: 
reference  should  be  made  to  it,  not  merely 
on  some  stated  solemn  occasions,  as  to  an 
abstruse  tenet  to  be  assented  to,  and  then 
laid  aside,  but  perpetually,  as  to  a  practical 
doctrine,  connected  with  every  other  point 
of  religious  belief  and  conduct. 

§.  2.  In  no  point  perhaps  has  the  real 
origin  of  the  Romish  corruptions  been 
more  imperfectly  perceived,  than  in  the 
one  now  before  us — the  setting  apart  of 


was  impossible,  and  that  the  laity  must 
trust  them  to  perform  what  was  requisite, 
in  their  stead,  and  submit  implicity  to 
their  guidance — then  indeed  there  would 
be  ground  for  regarding  priestcraft  as  al- 
together the  work  of  the  priests,  and  in 
no  degree  of  the  people.  But  we  should 
remember,  that  in  every  age  and  country, 
(even  where  they  were,  as  the  Romish 
priests  were  not,  a  distinct  caste,)  priests 
must  have  been  mere  men,  of  like  pas- 
sions with  their  brethren;  and  though 
sometimes  they  might  have,  on  the  whole, 
a  considerable  intellectual  superiority,  yet, 
it  must  always  have  been  impossible  to 


certain  religious  dogmas — duties — privi-  delude  men  into  the  reception  of  such 
leges — in  short  certain  portions  of  Christi-  J  gross  absurdities,  if  they  had  not  found 
anity,  as  confined  to  a  distinct  class  of  j  in  them  a  readiness — nay,  a  craving — for 
men,  and  in  which  the  laity  were  either  !  delusion.  The  reply  which  is  recorded 
not  allowed  or  not  required  to  have  a  |  of  a  Romish  priest  is,  (not  in  the  sight 
share.  We  are  not  accustomed  to  hear  j  of  God  indeed,  but)  as  far  as  regards  any 
much  of  priestcraft — of  the  subtle  arts  of  I  complaint  on  the  part  of  the  laity,  a  satis- 
designing  men,  who  imposed  on  the  sim-  '.  factory  defence;  when  taxed  with  some 
plicity  of  an  ignorant  people,  and  per-  j  of  the  monstrous  impostures  of  his  church, 
suaded  them  to  believe  that  they,  the  his  answer  was,  "Populus  vult  decipi, 
priests,  alone  understood  the  nature  of  j  et  decipitaur."  Such  indeed  was  the  case 
the  Deity — the  proper  mode  in  which  to  of  Aaron,  and  similar  the  defence  he 
propitiate  him — and  the  mysterious  doc-  offered,  for  making  the  Israelites  an  image, 
trines  to  which  the  others  were  to  give  j  at  their  desire.  Let  it  not  be  forgotten, 
their  implicit  assent;  and  the  poor  de- !  that  ihe  first  recorded  instance  of  depart- 
luded  people  are  represented  as  prevailed  ure  from  purity  of  worship,  as  establish- 
on  against  their  better  judgment,  by  the  ed  by  the  revelation  to  the  Israelites,  was 
sophistry,  and  promises,  and  threats,  of  forced  on  the  priest  by  the  people. 


these  crafty  impostors,  to  make  them  the 
keepers  of  their  consciences — their  me- 
diators, and  substitutes  in  the  service  of 


The  truth  is,  mankind  have  an  innate 
propensity,  as  to  other  errors,  so  to  that 
of  endeavouring  to  serve  God  by  proxy ; — 


to  commit  to  some  distinct  order  of  men 
the  care  of  their  religious  concerns,  in 


God,  and  their  despotic  spiritual  rulers. 

There  is  undoubtedly  much  truth  in 

such  a  representation;  but  it  leaves  on  I  the  same  manner  as  they  confide  the  care 
the  mind  an  erroneous  impression,  be-  |  of  their  bodily  health  to  the  physician, 
cause  it  is  (at  the  utmost)  only  half  the  ,  and  of  their  legal  transactions  to  the 
truth.  (lawyer;  deeming  it  sufficient  to  follow 

If  indeed,  in  any  country,  priests  had  implicitly  their  directions,  without  at- 
been  beings  of  a  different  species — or  a  •  tempting  themselves  to  become  acquainted 
distinct  caste,  as  in  some  of  the  Pagan  |  with  the  mysteries  of  medicine  or  of  law.* 
nations  where  the  priesthood  is  heredi-  j  Even  thus  are  they  willing  and  desirous 
tary ; — if  this  race  had  been  distinguished  that  others  should  study,  and  should  un- 

from  the  people   by  intellectual   superi- . 

ority    and    moral    depravity,  and    if  the  f    *  Nothing  is  more  mischievous  than  an  incor- 
i      i,    j    i  •  11-  c  frect  analogy  that  is  constantly  before  us,  and  la- 

people  had  been  sincere  y  desirous i  of  |  miHar  to  Oguyr  minds>  Like  a  distorted  mirror  in 
knowing,  and  serving,  and  obeying  God  !  the  apartment  we  inhabit,  it  produces,  not  an  in- 
for  themselves,  but  had  been  persuaded  sulated  or  occasional  error,  but  a  deep-seated  and 

habitual  false  impression.  Now  nothing  can  be 
more  familiar  than  the  seeming  analogy  between 
the  several  professions.  Men  may  rather  be  said 
habitually  to  feel,  than  distinctly  to  maintain,) 
(indeed  the  falsehood  would  be  easily  detected  in 


by  these  demons  in  human  form  that  this 


sense  which  must  have  been  meant,  viz.,  that  the 
baptized  convert  was  enrolled  and  enlisted,  as  it 
were,  into  the  service  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and 
the  Holy  Ghost.  The  Vulgate  Latin  has  "  in 


nomine,"  and  our  translation,  (perhaps  from  too 
great  reverence  for  that  authority,)  "  in  the  name ;" 
which  does  violence  to  the  original,  and  introduces 
a  different  idea,  quite  inappropriate. 


a  formal  assertion,)  that  as  the  soldier  is  in  respect 
of  military,  and  the  sailor,  in  respect  of  naval 
affairs,  and  the  physician,  in  respect  of  remedies 
for  bodily  disease,  and  the  lawyer,  in  legal  matters, 
so  is  the  clergyman  in  respect  of  religion. 


VICARIOUS    RELIGION. 


31 


derstand,  the  mysterious  doctrines  of  re- 
ligion in  their  stead — should  practise,  in 
their  stead,  some  more  exalted  kind  of 
piety  and  of  virtue — and  should  offer  pray- 
ers and  sacrifices  on  their  behalf,  both  in 
their  lifetime  and  after  their  death.  For 
man,  except  when  unusually  depraved, 
retains  enough  of  the  image  of  his  Maker, 
to  have  a  natural  reverence  for  religion, 
and  a  desire  that  God  should  be  wor- 
shipped ;  but,  through  the  corruption  of 
his  nature,  his  heart  is  (except  when  di- 
vinely purified)  too  much  alienated  from 
God  to  take  delight  in  serving  him. 
Hence  the  disposition  men  have  ever 
shown,  to  substitute  the  devotion  of  the 
priest  for  their  own  ; — to  leave  the  duties 
of  piety  in  his  hands — and  to  let  him 
serve  God  in  their  stead.  This  disposi- 
tion is  not  so  much  the  consequence,  as 
itself  the  origin,  of  priestcraft.  The  Ro- 
mish hierarchy  did  but  take  advantage 
from  lime  to  time  of  this  natural  pro- 
pensity, by  engrafting  successively  on  its 
system  such  practices  and  points  of  doc- 
trine as  favoured  it,  and  which  were  na- 
turally converted  into  a  source  of  profit 
and  influence  to  the  priesthood.  Hence 
the  gradual  transformation  of  the  Chris- 
tian minister — the  presbyter — into  the 
sacrificing  priest,  the  hiereus,  (in  Latin, 
"  sacerdos ;"  as  the  Romanists  call  theirs,) 
of  the  Jewish  and  Pagan  religions.  This 
last  is  an  error  of  which  no  inconsidera- 
ble remains  are  to  be  traced  in  the  minds  of 
Protestants,  and  on  which,  as  it  appears  to 
me  to  be  very  important,  I  shall  beg  to  be 
indulged  in  making  some  more  particular 
observations. 

§.  3.  *That  the  English  word  PRIEST 
is  frequently  employed  for  the  rendering 
of  two  different  words  in  Greek,  viz., 
'  Itgtvq,  and  ngj0-j3yTBfo«,  (from  the  latter  of 
which  our  "  presbyter"  or  "  priest"  is 
derived,)  is  a  circumstance  of  which  no 
scholar  can  be  ignorant  indeed,  but  which 
is  not  in  general  sufficiently  attended  to  : 
for  it  is  not  the  same  thing  to  be  merely 
acquainted  with  the  ambiguity  of  a  word, 
and  to  be  practically  aware  of  it,  and 
watchful  of  the  consequences  connected 
with  it.  And  it  is,  I  conceive,  of  no  small 
importance  that  this  ambiguity  should  be 
carefully  and  frequently  explained  to  those 
who  are  ignorant  of  the  original  language 
of  the  Old  Testament. 

*  The  passage  which  follows  I  have  taken  the 
liberty  of  extracting,  in  substance,  and  nearly  in 
words,  from  a  Discourse  delivered  before  the  Uni- 
versity of  Oxford,  on  the  5th  of  Nov.  1821,  and 
published  with  the  second  edition  of  the  Barapton 
Lectures. 


Our  own  name  for  the  ministers  of  our 
own  religion,  we  naturally  apply  to  the 
ministers  (in  whatever  sense)  of  any 
other  religion ;  but  the  two  words  which 
have  thus  come  to  be  translated  "  priest," 
seem  by  no  means  to  be  used  synony- 
mously. The  priests,  both  of  the  Jews 
and  of  Pagan  nations,*  constantly  bear, 
in  the  sacred  writers,  the  title  of  hiereus  ; 
which  title  they  never  apply  to  any  of  the 
Christian  ministers  ordained  by  the 
apostles.  These  are  called  by  the  title 
of  episcopos,  (literally  superintendent ; 
whence  our  English  word  "bishop;") 
prcsbyteroS)  literally  elder,  and  so  ren- 
dered by  our  translators,  probably  to 
avoid  the  ambiguity  just  alluded  to; 
though  the  very  word  "  presbyter"  or 
"priest,"  is  but  a  corruption  of  that 
name  :  and — diaconos,  literally  u  minis- 
ter;" from  which  our  word  deacon  is 
but  slightly  altered. 

These  titles,  from  their  original  vague 
and  general  signification,  became  gradu- 
ally hot  only  restricted  in  great  measure 
to  Christian  ministers,  but  also  more  pre- 
cisely distinguished  from  each  other  than 
at  first  they  had  been;  so  as  to  be  appro- 
priated respectively  to  the  different  orders 
of  those  ministers,  instead  of  being  ap- 
plied indiscriminately.  But  no  mention 
is  made,  by  the  sacred  writers,  of  any 
such  office  being  established  by  the  apos- 
tles, as  that  of  "  priest"  in  the  other  sense, 
viz.,  hiereus ; — priest,  in  short,  such  as 
we  find  mentioned,  under  that  name,  in 
Scripture. 

Now  this  alone  would  surely  be  a 
strong  presumption  that  they  regarded  the 
two  offices  as  essentially  distinct ;  for  they 
must  have  been  perfectly  familiar  with 
the  name  j  and  had  they  intended  to  in- 
stitute the  same  office,  or  one  very  similar 
to  it,  we  cannot  but  suppose  they  would 
have  employed  that  namef.  The  mere 
circumstance  that  the  Christian  religion 
is  very  different  from  all  others,  would, 
of  itself,  have  been  no  reason  against  this  ; 
for  the  difference  is  infinite  between  the 
divinely-instituted  religion  of  the  Jews, 
and  the  idolatrous  superstitions  of  the 
heathen  ;  and  yet,  from  similarity  of  office, 
the  word  hiereus  is  applied  by  the  sacred 
writers  to  the  ministers  of  both  religions. 


*  Acts  xiv.  13. 

j-  For  it  should  never  be  forgotten,  that  Christi- 
anity is  the  offspring  of  Judaism,  and  that  all  the 
institutions  and  regulations  of  the  Christian 
church  emanated  from  men  who  had  been 
brought  up  as  Jews,  and  who  would  not  have  de- 
viated from  what  they  had  been  used  to,  on  slight 
grounds. 


32 


VICARIOUS    RELIGION. 


The  difference  of  names,  then,  is  in  |  priests ;"  evidently  meaning  that  they 
such  a  case  as  this  a  matter  of  no  trifling  |  were  dedicated  to  Christ,  and  were  bound 
importance,  but  would,  even  of  itself,  lead  to  offer  up  themselves  as  a  living  sacrifice 
us  to  infer  a  difference  of  things,  and  to  devoted  to  him.  For  it  is  most  impor- 
con elude  that  the  apostles  regarded  their  tant  to  observe,  that  when  the  title  of 
religion  as  having  no  priest  at  all,  (in  the  priest  is  applied  to  Christians,  it  is  ap- 
sense  of  'ftgtvft)  except  Christ  Jesus,  of  plied  to  all  of  them, 
whom  indeed  all  the  Levitical  priests  |  There  may  have  been  another  intention 
were  but  types.  also  in  calling  the  Israelites  a  kingdom 

§.  4.  It  should  next  be  considered  what  I  of  priests ;  viz.,  to  point  out  that  the 
was  the  nature  of  that  office  which  was  |  mysteries  of  their  religion  (which  among 
exercised  by  the  Jewish  and  by  the  |  the  Pagans  were  in  general  kept  secret 
Pagan  priests;  and  which,  according  to  among  the  priests,  or  some  select  number 
the  apostle,  belonged,  after  the  establish-!  whom  these  admitted  to  the  knowledge 
ment  of  Christ's  kingdom,  to  him  alone,  of  them)  were  revealed,  as  far  as  they 

The  priests  of  the  Israelites  were  ap-  j  were  revealed  at  all,  to  the  whole  of  this 
pointed  by  the  Almighty  himself,  for  the  I  favoured  nation.  Many  parts  indeed  of 
express  purpose  of  offering  sacrifices,  in  !  the  Mosaic  institutions  were  but  imper- 
the  name  and  on  the  behalf  of  the  people;  |  feclly  understood  by  any,  as  to  their  ob- 
they  alone  were  allowed  to  make  obla-  I  ject  and  signification ;  but  nothing  seems 
tions  and  burn  incense  before  the  Lord :  i  to  have  been  imparted  to  the  priests 
it  was  through  them  that  the  people  were  j  which  was  withheld  from  the  people, 
to  approach  him,  that  their  service  might  |  This  very  striking  distinction  is  remarked 
be  acceptable :  a  very  great  portion  of  j  by  Josephus,  who  observes,  that  such 
the  Jewish  religion  consisted  in  the  per-!  religious  mysteries  as,  among  the  heathen, 
formance  of  certain  ceremonial  rights,  i  were  concealed  by  the  priests,  were  im- 
most  of  which  could  only  be  duly  per- ;  parted  to  the  whole  Jewish  nation, 
formed  by  the  priests,  or  through  their!  That  there  was,  however,  a  distinct 
mediation  and  assistance ;  they  were  to !  order  of  priests,  properly  so  called,  set 
make  intercession  and  atonement  for  of-  j  apart  for  a  peculiar  purpose,  is  undeniable 
fenders;  they,  in  short,  were  the  mediators  !  and  undisputed, 
between  God  and  man.  Among  the  Pagans,  whose  institutions 

It  is  true  the  Israelites  were  a  sacred  j  appear  to  have  been,  in  great  measure, 
nation,  and  are  called  in  Scripture  a !  corrupt  imitations  of  those  of  the  patri- 
" kingdom  of  priests;"  but  it  is  plain  that  archal  religion,  we  find,  as  before,  priests, 
this  is  not  to  be  understood  as  admitting  \  who  were  principally,  if  not  exclusively, 


them  all  indiscriminately  to  the  exercise 
of  the  sacred  offices  just  mentioned  ;  since 
the  most  tremendous  punishments  were 
denounced  (of  whose  infliction  examples 


the  offerers  of  sacrifices,  in  behalf  of  the 
state  and  of  individuals — intercessors — 
supplicating  and  making  atonement  for 
others — mediators  between  man  and  the 


are  recorded)  against  any  who,  not  being  |  object  of  his  worship, 
of  the  seed  of  Aaron,  presumed  to  take  |      This    peculiarity    of  office  was   even 
upon    them   to   burn  incense  and  make  I  carried  to  the  length  of  an  abuse:    (I 
oblations.  speak  now  of  the  abuses  introduced  into 

But  it  was  requisite  to  impress  on  the  j  the  institutions  of  the  Pagans,  in  contra- 
minds  of  the  Israelites  that  they  were  not   distinction   to   the   absurdities    of    their 


to  entertain  the  notion  (which  appears  to 
have  been  not  uncommon  among  the  hea- 


faith :)  there  seems  to  have  been  as  (has 
been  already  hinted)  a  strong  tendency 


then)  that  religion  was  the  exclusive  con-  |  to  regard  all  religion  as  exclusively  the 
cernof  the  priests:  they,  on  the  contrary,  concern  of  the  priests; — that  they  were 
were  required  to  worship  God  them-  to  be  the  sole  depositaries  of  the  mys- 
selves — to  conform  to  his  ordinances —  j  teries  of  things  sacred ; — that  a  high  de- 
to  keep  themselves  pure  from  all  defile-  j  gree  of  holiness  of  life  and  devotion  were 
ment,  moral  or  ceremonial — and  to  prac-  |  required  of  them  alone ; — that  they  were 
tise  all  their  duties  out  of  reverence  to  I  to  be  religious,  as  it  were,  instead  of  the 
God,  their  Lawgiver  and  King ;  they  were,  I  people  ; — and  that  men  hud  only  to  show 
in  short,  to  be  priests  in  piety  of  heart  true  respect  to  the  priests,  and  leave  to 

them  the  service  of  the  Deity;  just  as 


and  holiness  of  life.  And  in  the  same 
sense  Peter  calls  Christians  "•  a  loyal 
priesthood;"  and  John,  in  the  Apoca- 
lypse, speaks  of  them  as  "  kings  and 


they  commit  the  defence  of  the  state  to 
soldiers,  and  the  cure  of  their  diseases 
to  physicians.  Against  such  notions  (as 


VICARIOUS  RELIGION. 


33 


was  before  remarked)  the  Israelites  were 
studiously,  and  not  without  reason,  cau- 
tioned. 

The  office  of  priest,  then,  in  that  sense 
of  the  word  which  I  am  now  considering1, 
viz.,  as  equivalent  to  hiereus,  being  such 
as  has  been  described,  it  follows  that,  in 
in  our  religion,  the  only  priest,  in  that 
sense,  is  Jesus  Christ  himself;  to  whom 
consequently,  and  to  whom  alone,  under 
the  Gospel,  "the  title  is  applied  by  the  in- 
spired writers.  He  alone  has  offered  up 
an  atoning  sacrifice  for  us,  even  the  sa- 
crifice of  his  own  blood  ;  he  "  ever  liveth 
to  make  intercession  for  us ;"  he  is  the 
"one  Mediator  between  God  and  man ;" 
"  through  him  we  have  access  to  the 
Father ;"  and  "  no  man  cometh  unto  the 
Father  but  by  him." 

§.  5.  As  for  the  ministers  whom  he, 
and  his  apostles,  and  their  successors, 
appointed,  they  are  completely  distinct 
from  priests  in  the  former  sense,  in  office, 
as  well  as  in  name.  Of  this  office,  one 
principal  part  is  that  it  belongs  to  them 
(not  exclusively  indeed,  but  principally 
and  especially)  to  preach  the  Gospel — to 
maintain  order  and  decency  in  their  reli- 
gious assemblies,  and  Christian  discipline, 
generally — to  instruct,  exhort,  admonish, 
and  spiritually  govern,  Christ's  flock. 
His  command  was,  to  "  go  and  teach  all 
nations ;" — to  "  preach  the  Gospel  to 
every  creature :"  and  these  Christian 
ministers  are  called  in  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews, u  those  that  bear  rule  over  them, 
and  watch  for  their  souls,  as  they  that  1 
must  give  an  account."  Now  it  is  worthy  j 
of  remark,  that  the  office  I  am  at  present 
speaking  of  made  no  part  of  the  especial  I 
duties  of  a  priest,  in  the  other  sense,  such  \ 
as  those  of  the  Jews,  and  of  the  Pagans. 
Among  the  former,  it  was  not  so  much 
the  family  of  Aaron,  as  the  whole  tribe  j 
of  Levi,  that  seem  to  have  been  set  aside 
for  the  purpose  of  teaching  the  Law :  and 
even  to  these  it  was  so  far  from  being  in 
any  degree  confined,  that  person?  of  any 
tribe  might  teach  publicly  in  the  syna- 
gogues on  the  Sabbath  day  ;  as  was  done 
by  our  Lord  himself,  who  was  of  the 
tribe  of  Judah ;  and  by  Paul,  of  the  tribe 
of  Benjamin,  without  any  objection  being 
raised :  whereas  an  intrusion  into  the 
priest's  office  would  have  been  vehe- 
mently resented. 

And  as  for  the  Pagan  priests,  their 
business  was  rather  to  conceal,  than  to 
explain,  the  mysteries  of  their  religion ; 
— to  keep  the  people  in  darkness,  than  to 
enlighten  them.  Accordingly,  the  moral 
5 


improvement  of  the  people,  among  the 
ancients,  seems  to  have  been  considered 
as  the  proper  care  of  the  legislator,  whose 
laws  and  systems  of  public  education 
generally  had  this  object  in  view.  To 
these,  and  to  the  public  disputations  of 
philosophers,  but  by  no  means  to  the 
priests  of  their  religion,  they  appear  to 
have  looked  for  instruction  in  their 
duty. 

That  the  Christian  ministry,  on  the 
contrary,  were  appointed,  in  great  mea- 
sure, if  not  principally,  for  the  express 
purpose  of  giving  religious  instruction 
and  admonition,  is  clearly  proved  both 
by  the  practice  of  the  apostles  themselves, 
and  by  Paul's  directions  to  Timothy  and 
to  Titus. 

Another,  and  that  a  peculiar  and  exclu- 
sive office  of  the  Christian  ministers,  at 
least  according  to  the  practice  of  most 
churches,  is  the  administration  of  the 
sacraments  of  baptism  and  the  Lord's 
supper.  But  this  administration  does  not 
at  all  assimilate  the  Christian  priesthood 
to  the  Pagan  or  the  Jewish.  The  former 
of  these  rites  is,  in  the  first  place,  an  ad- 
mission into  the  visible  church ;  and 
therefore  very  suitably  received  at  the 
hands  of  those  whose  especial  business  is 
to  instruct  and  examine  those  who  are 
candidates  for  baptism,  as  adults,  or  who 
have  been  baptized  in  their  infancy ;  and 
in  the  second  place,  it  is  an  admission  to 
a  participation  in  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit; 
without  which  the  church  itself,  and  the 
formal  admission  into  it,  would  be  an 
empty  mockery.  The  treasury,  as  it  were, 
of  divine  grace  is  then  thrown  open,  to 
which  we  may  resort  when  a  sufficient 
maturity  of  years  enables  us  to  understand 
our  wants,  and  we  are  inclined  to  apply 
for  their  relief.  It  is  not,  let  it  be  ob- 
served, through  the  mediation  of  an 
earthly  priest  that  we  are  admitted  to  offer 
our  supplications  before  God's  mercy-seat ; 
we  are  authorized,  by  virtue  of  this  sacred 
rite,  to  appear,  as  it  were,  in  his  presence, 
ourselves,  needing  no  intercessor  with 
the  Father,  but  his  son  Jesus  Christ,  both 
God  and  man.  "  Having  therefore,"  says 
Paul,  u  boldness  to  enter  into  the  holiest 
by  the  blood  of  Jesus,  by  a  new  and 
living  way,  which  he  hath  consecrated 
for  us,  and  having  a  High  Priest  over 
the  house  of  God,  let  us  draw  near  with 
a  true  heart,  in  full  assurance  of  faith, 
having  our  hearts  sprinkled  from  an  evil 
conscience,  and  our  bodies  washed  with 
pure  water." 

The  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  supper, 


34 


VICARIOUS  RELIGION. 


again,  is  not,  as  the  Romanists  impiously 
pretend,  a  fresh  sacrifice,  but  manifestly  a 
celebration  of  the  one  already  made ;  and 
the  rite  seems  plainly  to  have  been  or- 
dained for  the  express  purpose  (among 
others)  of  fixing  our  minds  on  the  great 
and  single  oblation  of  himself,  made  by 
the  only  High  Priest,  once  for  all ; — that 
great  High  Priest  who  has  no  earthly  suc- 
cessor. And  all  the  communicants  are 
alike  partakers,  spiritually,  of  the  body 
and  blood  of  Christ,  (i.  e.  of  the  Spirit  of 
Christ,  represented  by  his  flesh  and  blood, 
as  these  again  are,  by  the  bread  and  wine,*) 
provided  they  themselves  are  in  a  sancti- 
fied and  right  frame  of  mind.  It  is  on  the 
personal  holiness  of  the  communicant, 
not  of  the  minister,  that  the  efficacy  of 
this  sacrament  depends ;  he,  so  far  from 
offering  any  sacrifice  himself,  refers  them 
to  the  sacrifice  already  made  by  another. 
Such  being  then  the  respective  offices 
of  these  two  orders  of  men,  (both  now 
commonly  called  in  English  u  priests." 
but  originally  distinguished  by  the  names 
of  'i££=yf  and  npto-@i>Tt%o<;,}  we  may  assert 
that  the  word  in  question  is  ambiguous ; 
denoting,  when  thus  applied  to  both,  two 
things,  essentially  distinct.  It  is  not 
merely  a  comprehensive  term,  embracing 
two  species  under  one  class,  but  rather 
an  equivocal  term,  applied,  in  different 
senses,  to  two  things  of  different  classes. 
Thus  the  word  publican,  for  instance,  is 
ambiguous  when  applied  to  a  "  tax- 
gatherer"  and  an  "  inn-keeper  ;"  though 
*'  man,"  which  is  a  still  more  compre- 
hensive term,  may  be  applied  to  both 
without  ambiguity;  because,  however 
•widely  they  differ,  it  denotes  them  only 
so  far  forth  as  they  agree  ;  in  short,  it  is 
applied  to  them  in  the  same  sense  ;  which 
"  publican"  is  not.  No  more  is  "  priest," 
when  applied  to  the  "  hiereus"  and  the 
"presbyteros."  At  least  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted, that  what  is  most  essential  to  each 
respectively,  is  wanting  in  the  other. 
The  essential  characteristic  of  the  Jewish 
priests  was,  (not  their  being  ministers 
of  religion ;  for  that,  in  a  certain  sense, 
all  the  Levites  were;  but)  their  offering 
sacrifices,  and  making  atonement  and  in- 
tercession for  the  people  :  whereas  of  the 
Christian  minister  the  especial  office  is 
religious  instruction,  regulation  of  the  re- 
ligious assemblies,  and  of  the  religious 
and  moral  conduct,  of  the  people  gene- 
rally ;  (an  office  corresponding  to  that  of 


*  See  note  on  the  Eucharist  appended  to  Essay 
viii.     Second  Series. 


the  Jewish  elders  or  presbyters,  and  of 
the  "  rulers  of  synagogues,")  and  the 
administration  of  rites  totally  different  in 
their  nature  from  the  offering  of  sacri- 
fices;— totally  precluding  the  idea  of  his 
making  himself  the  mediator  between  God 
and  man. 

§.  6.  The  confounding  together,  then, 
through  the  ambiguity  of  language,  two 
things  thus  essentially  distinct,  may  well 
be  expected  to  mislead,  not  only  such  as 
are  ignorant  of  the  distinction,  but  all 
who  do  not  carefully  attend  to  it,  and 
.keep  it  steadily  in  view.  If  we  are  but 
careful  not  to  lose  sight  of  the  two  mean- 
ings of  he  word  "priest" — the  broad 
distinction  between  'isgey?  arid  n%ecr@vTi£o<; 
— we  shall  run  no  risk  of  being  either 
seduced  or  silenced  by  all  the  idle  cla- 
mours that  are  afloat  about  priestcraft.  Our 
readiest  and  shortest  answer  will  be,  that 
Christianity  (I  mean  Christianity  as  found 
in  Scripture,  not  as  perverted  by  the  Ro- 
mish church,  which  claims  an  authority 
independent  of  Scripture,)  has  no  priest- 
craft, for  this  simple  reason,  that  it  has 
(in  that  sense  of  the  word  in  which  our 
opponents  employ  it)  no  priest  on  earth. 

And  it  is  worthy  of  remark  how  striking 
a  peculiarity  this  is  in  our  religion ;  there 
being  probably  no  religion  in  the  world, 
certainly  none  that  has  ever  prevailed 
among  the  more  celebrated  nations,  which 
has  not  priests  in  the  same  sense  in  which 
the  Levitical  priests  and  those  of  the  an- 
cient Greeks  and  Romans  are  so  called. 
Now  every  peculiarity  of  our  religion  is 
worth  noticing,  with  a  view  to  the  con- 
firmation of  our  faith,  even  though  it  may 
not  at  first  sight  strike  us  as  a  distinguish- 
ing excellence :  for  that  our  religion 
should  differ  from  all  others,  in  points  in 
which  they  all  agree,  is  a  presumption  at 
least  that  it  is  not  drawn  from  the  same 
origin.  And  the  presumption  is  the 
stronger,  inasmuch  as  the  difference  I 
have  been  speaking  of  is  not  slight  or 
verbal,  but  real  and  essential.  The  priest- 
hood of  Pagan  nations,  and  that  of  our 
own,  are  not  merely  unlike,  but,  in  the 
most  essential  points,  even  opposite.  They 
offer  sacrifices  for  the  people;  we  refer 
them  to  a  sacrifice  made  by  another ;  they 
profess  to  be  the  mediators  through  whom 
the  Deity  is  to  be  addressed;  we  teach 
them  to  look  to  a  heavenly  Mediator,  and 
in  his  name  boldly  to  approach  God's 
mercy-seat  themselves  :  they  study  to  con- 
ceal the  mysteries  of  religion ;  we  labour 
to  make  them  known :  they  have,  for  the 
most  part,  hidden  sacred  books,  which 


VICARIOUS    RELIGION. 


none  but  a  chosen  few  may  look  into; 
ice  teach  and  exhort  men  to  study  the 
word  of  God  themselves  :  they  strive  to 
keep  the  people  in  darkness,  and  to  stifle  ! 
inquiry;  we  make  it  our  business  to  en-  : 
lighten  them ;    urging   them  to  "  search  j 
the  Scriptures" — to  "  prove  all  things —  | 
and   to  hold  fast  that  which    is  right:" 
they  practise  the  duties  of  their  religion 
instead  of  the  people ;  we   instruct   and 
admonish  all  to  practise  them  for  them- 
selves.    And  it  may  be  added,  that  they 
in  general  teach,  that  a  devoted  confidence 
in  them  and  obedience  to  their  commands, 
will  serve  as  a  substitute  for  a  moral  life ; 
while  we  declare  to  them  from  Scripture, 
that  it  is  in  vain  to  call  Jesus  Lord,  if 
they  "  do  not  the  things  which  he  says." 

JYow  if  the  Jews  be  justly  condemned, 
who  crucified  our  Lord  between  two 
thieves, — thus  studiously  "  numbering 
with  the  transgressors"  of  the  vilest  kind, 
the  only  Man  who  never  transgressed — 
it.  is  awful  to  think  what  account  those 
will  have  to  render  at  the  last  day,  who 
labour  to  vilify  this  religion,  by  con- 
founding it  with  the  grossest  systems  of 
human  imposture  and  superstition,  in 
those  very  points  in  which  the  two  are 
not  only  different,  but  absolutely  con- 
trasted. 

§.  7.  Great  occasion  however  (as  I  have 
said)  has  been  afforded  for  the  enemies 
of  our  faith  to  blaspheme,  by  the  corrup- 
tions which  the  Romish  church  has  sanc- 
tioned, especially  in  what  regards  the 
Christian  priesthood.  She  has,  in  fact, 
in  a  great  degree,  transformed  the  pres- 
byter— the  priest  of  the  Gospel  dispensa- 
tion— into  the  hiereus,  or  Levitical  priest : 
thus  derogating  from  the  honour  of  the 
one  great  High  Priest,  and  altering  some 
of  the  most  characteristic  features  of  his 
religion,  into  something  more  like  Judaism 
or  Paganism  than  Christianity. 

The  Romish  priest  professes,  like  the 
Jewish,  to  offer  sacrifice  (the  sacrifice  of 
the  mass)  to  propitiate  God  towards  him- 
self and  his  congregation  :  the  efficacy  of 
that  sacrifice  is  made  to  depend  on  sin- 
cerity and  rectitude  of  intention,  not  in 
the  communicants  themselves,  but  in  the 
priest ;  he,  assuming  the  character  of  a 
mediator  and  intercessor,  prays,  not  with, 
but/or,  the  people,  in  a  tongue  unknown 
to  them,  and  in  an  inaudible  voice :  the 
whole  style  and  character  of  the  service 
being  evidently  far  different  from  what 
the  apostle  must  have  intended,  in  com- 
manding us  to  "pray  for  one  another." 
The  Romish  priest  undertakes  to  recon- 


35 

cile  transgressors  with  the  Almighty,  by 
prescribing  penances,  to  be  performed  by 
them,  in  oider  to  obtain  his  absolution ; 
and,  profanely  copying  our  only  High 
Priest,  pretends  to  transfer  to  them  his 
own  merits,  or  those  of  the  saints.  He, 
like  a  Pagan,  rather  than  a  Jewish  priest, 
keeps  hidden  from  the  people  the  volume 
of  their  faith,  that  they  may  with  ignorant 
reverence  submit  to  the  dominion  of  error, 
instead  of  being  "  made  free  by  the  truth," 
which  he  was  expressly  commissioned  to 
make  known ;  thus  hiding  the  "  candle 
under  a  bushel,"  which  was  designed  to 
"be  a  light  to  lighten  the  nations." 

In  short,  whoever  will  minutely  ex- 
amine, with  this  view,  the  errors  of  the 
Romish  church,  will  find  that  a  very  large 
and  important  portion  of  them  may  be 
comprehended  under  this  one  general  cen- 
sure, that  they  have  destroyed  the  true 
character  of  the  Christian  priesthood ; 
substituting  for  it,  in  great  measure,  what 
cantiot  be  called  a  priesthood,  except  in 
a  different  sense  of  the  word.  They 
have,  in  short,  gone  far  towards  changing 
the  office  of  presbyter  into  that  of  hie- 
reus.  Against  that  church,  therefore,  the 
charge  of  priestcraft  may  but  too  justly 
be  brought. 

A  natural  consequence  of  this  error, 
indeed  properly  speaking,  a  part  of  it,  is 
that  further  approach  to  Judaism,  the 
error  of  regarding  a  Christian  place  of 
worship  as  answering  to  the  temple, — 
"  the  house  of  God"  in  Jerusalem ; 
whereas  it  really  corresponds  to  a  Jewish 
synagogue.  And  thus  the  reverence  due 
to  the  real  temple  of  the  Lord  now  sub- 
sisting among  us  and  within  us  ("ye  are 
the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost  which 
dwelleth  in  you")  is  transferred  from  the 
people — the  "  lively  stones"  of  God's 
house,  to  the  building  in  which  they  as- 
semble.* On  the  same  principle,  the 
table  used  for  the  celebration  of  the  Eu- 
charist is  often  called  (consistently,  by 
Romanists,  but  inconsistently,  by  Pro- 
testants) the  "  altar." 

Part  of  the  same  system  again  was  the 
performance  of  divine  service  in  an  un- 
known tongue — the  concealment  of  the 
sacred  mysteries  of  the  Christian  faith 
behind  the  veil  of  a  dead  language — and 
the  opposition  made  to  the  translation  of 
the  Scriptures  into  the  vernacular  lan- 
guages. 

§.  8.  If  any  one  doubts  the  existence, 
among  Protestants  of  the  present  day,  of 

*  See  Hind's  Three  Temples  of  the  One  God. 


36 


VICARIOUS  RELIGION. 


a  like  principle,  he  may  find  but  too  con- 
vincing a  proof  of  it  in  the  opposition 
still  made  by  some,  to  the  education  of 
the  poor.  Surely  many  of  those  who 
profess  the  greatest  abhorrence  of  Romish 
errors,  have  never  considered  that  this 
denial  of  the  Scriptures  to  the  people  is 
one  of  the  worst  of  them ;  and  that 
whether  the  Bible  is  in  Latin  or  in  Eng- 
lish, makes  little  difference  to  one  who 
cannot  read.  Nor  do  such  persons  con- 
sider, that  it  was  (if  I  may  so  speak)  the 
great  boast  of  the  founder  of  our  faith, 
that  "  to  the  poor  the  Gospel  was  preach- 
ed :"  so  that  if  his  religion  be  not  really 
calculated  for  these,  his  pretensions  must 
have  been  unfounded.  The  very  truth  of 
his  divine  mission  is  at  issue  on  this 
question. 

And  yet  if  it  were  asked  of  any  one, 
Romanist  or  Protestant,  who  professes  to 
acknowledge  the  divine  origin  of  the 
Christian  religion,  whether  that  religion 
was  designed  for  the  great  mass  of  the 
people,  or  merely  for  a  few  of  the  higher 
classes,  he  would  be  sure  to  answer,  that 
it  was  intended  for  all  mankind.  And  in 
proof  of  this,  he  might  cite  numerous 
passages  of  the  Scriptures  which  imply 
it ;  such  as  the  command  of  our  Lord  to 
preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature,"  and 
his  application,  just  above  noticed,  of  the 
prophecy,  uto  the  poor  the  Gospel  is 
preached."  And  he  would  represent  it 
(and  justly)  as  a  point  of  the  highest  im- 
portance, as  I  have  said,  towards  our  be- 
lief in  the  Christian  religion,  that  we 
should  regard  it  as  suited  to  all  mankind 
as  one  which  all,  above  the  condition  of 
mere  savages,  are  capable  of  embracing ; 
because  otherwise  it  cannot  be  a  true  re- 
velation. For  the  first  founders  of  it 
plainly  had  this  design;  Jesus  Christ 
himself  did  certainly  intend  his  religion 
for  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor ;  and 
therefore,  if  it  be  not  one  which  the 
lower  ranks  of  society  are  capable  of 
embracing,  he,  the  founder  of  it,  must 
have  been  mistaken  in  his  calculation — 
must  have  been  ignorant  either  of  the 
character  of  his  own  religion,  or  of  the 
nature  of  man;  which  would  of  course 
imply  that  he  could  not  have  been 
divinely  inspired.  The  systems  of  Aris- 
totle or  Plato,  of  Newton  or  Locke,  may 
conceivably  be  very  true,  although  the 
mass  of  mankind  cannot  comprehend 
them,  because  they  were  never  intended 
for  the  mass  of  mankind :  but  the  Chris- 
tian religion  was ;  and  therefore  it  cannot 
really  be  a  divine  revelation,  unless  it  be 


such  as  men  in  general  understand  and 
embrace. 

And  yet,  though  such  would  be  the 
answer  which  almost  all  believers  would 
give,  in  words,  if  such  a  question  were 
put,  there  are,  as  I  have  said,  not  a  few 
who,  in  practice,  give  a  contrary  answer. 

I  mean,  that  they  act  as  if  the  Chris- 
tian religion  were  not  designed  for  the 
lower  orders,  but  only  for  a  small  portion 
of  mankind.  For  this  those  do,  who, 
under  the  pretence  that  the  labouring 
classes  "need  not  be  profound  theolo- 
gians," consider  it  unnecessary,  or  even 
mischievous,  to  give  them  such  an  edu- 
cation as  may  enable  them  to  study  for 
themselves  the  Scriptures,  and  the  ex- 
planations needful  for  the  understanding 
of  them.  And  yet  they  profess  to  hold, 
that  the  Christian  religion  was  meant  to 
be  embraced  by  people  of  all  ranks. 

Whence  comes  this  contradiction?  this 
inconsistency  of  their  practical  views  with 
their  professed  belief?  It  arises,  I  con- 
ceive, from  their  not  considering  what 
the  Christian  religion  is,  and  what  is 
meant  by  embracing  it.  When  they  say 
that  they  believe  it  to  be  designed  for  the 
mass  of  the  people,  and  yet  that  these 
need  not,  or  should  not,  be  educated, 
what  they  mean  is  this:  that  it  is  possible 
for  a  man  without  any  education,  to  be 
sober,  honest,  industrious,  contented,  &c., 
and  that  sobriety,  honesty,  and  the  rest, 
are  Christian  virtues;  and  that,  conse- 
quently, a  man  may  be  a  good  practical 
Christian  without  any  education.  What 
they  mean,  in  short,  by  a  man's  being  a 
good  Christian,  is  his  doing  those  things 
which  are  enjoined  to  Christians,  and  ab- 
staining from  those  things  which  are  for- 
bidden. To  know  on  what  grounds  the 
Christian  religion  is  to  be  believed,  to  un- 
derstand any  thing  of  its  doctrines,  to  adopt 
or  to  comprehend  any  Christian  motives 
and  principles  of  conduct,  all  this  they 
conceive  to  be  unnecessary,  except  for 
the  clergy  and  the  higher  classes,  as  long 
as  a  man's  conduct  is  but  right.  Now 
this  is  in  fact,  as  I  have  said,  the  Romish 
system ;  which  is  so  natural  to  man  that, 
under  one  shape  or  another,  it  is  con- 
tinually springing  up  under  new  names. 
The  Romish  church,  we  know,  used  to 
forbid,  and,  as  long  as  it  was  possible, 
prevented,  the  Scripture  being  translated 
into  the  popular  languages;  and  enjoined 
the  people  not  to  attempt  to  pry  into 
religious  questions  for  themselves,  but  to 
believe  implicitly  and  in  the  lump,  all  that 
the  holy  church  believed,  and  do  what- 


VICARIOUS  RELIGION. 


37 


ever  their  priests  enjoined  them,  without   that  which  he  believes  be  the  truth,  yet 


making  any  inquiries ;  and  this,  they  de- 
clared, was  the  way  to  be  good  Christians. 


it  is  only  by  chance  that  he  believes  the 
truth ; — he  does  not  believe  it  because  it 


Now  to  waive  the  question  how  far  j  is  true;  and  this  is  not  faith,  but  blind 
any  one  is  likely  to  lead  a  moral  life  who  j  credulity.  Now  "  without  faith  it  is  inn 
knows  little  or  nothing  about  his  reli-  j  possible  to  please  God."  And,  according 
gion — let  it  be  supposed  that  a  man  is  to  the  apostles,  the  Christian  is  required 
leading  such  a  life ;  still  I  contend  that  it  not  only  to  believe  in  his  religion  and  to 
cannot  be  said  to  be  a  Christian  life,  if  it .  know  what  that  religion  is,  but  to  implant 
does  not  spring  from  Christian  principles.  |  in  his  mind  Christian  feelings  and  mo- 
The  brute-animals  conform  to  the  design  !  tives — "  to  grow  in  grace,"  as  well  as 
of  their  Maker,  an  act  in  a  manner  suit-  "  in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
able  to  the  nature  with  which  He  has  ,  Christ" — to  be  actuated  by  gratitude  and 
endued  them  :  but  it  would  sound  strange  love  for  Christ,  who  died  for  his  sins — 
to  say  that  they  are  religious.  Why  not?  i  by  an  earnest  desire  to  prove  that  love  by 
because  they  have  no  knowledge  or  no-  copying  his  example — by  obeying  his 
tion  of  a  God,  but  fulfil  his  designs  with-  >l  commands — by  being  led  by  his  Spirit ; 
out  intending  and  without  knowing  it. j  and,  at  every  step  he  takes,  "  looking 
And  no  more  can  a  man  be  said  to  em-  unto  Jesus,  the  Author  and  Finisher  of 
brace  the  Christian  religion,  and  to  lead  our  faith,"  as  his  pattern  and  his  support 
a  Christian  life,  who  does  indeed  fulfil  j  in  this  life,  and  his  eternal  rewarder  in 
all  the  Christian  commandments,  but  not  j  the  next. 

from  any  Christian  principle — from  any  Such  being  then  the  view  which  Christ 
motives  peculiar  to  the  Christian  reli-  himself  and  his  apostles  took  of  the 
gion — but  for  the  sake  of  credit,  or  health,  j  Christian  religion,  which  religion  he  evi- 
or  prosperity,  in  the  world,  or  from  fear  j  den tly  meant  to  be  "preached  to  every 
of  human  punishment — or  from  deference  :  creature,"  and  considered  as  one  which 
to  the  authority  of  the  priest,  or  of  some  j  might  be,  and  should  be,  embraced  by 
other  person  whom  he  looks  up  to,  or  j  men  of  all  classes,  it  is  plain  that,  if  they 
from  any  other  such  motive.  Worldly  |  were  not  mistaken  in  their  views — in 
goods  will  undoubtedly  be  produced  by  j  short,  if  they  really  were  sent  from  God — 
honest  industry,  temperance,  friendliness,  I  it  is  possible  and  needful  that  all  classes 
and  good  conduct  in  general.  And  it  is  j  should  have  a  sufficiency  of  education  to 
conceivable  therefore,  (I  do  not  say  j  enable  them  to  understand  what  their  re- 
likely,)  but  it  is  certainly  conceivable,  j  ligion  is,  and  why  it  should  be  received, 
that  a  man  might  conduct  himself  prac-  ;  and  how  it  is  to  be  acted  upon, 
tically  as  a  Christian  should  do,  merely  I  It  is  but  a  slight  modification  of  the 
for  the  sake  of  these  worldly  advantages, !  same  Romanist  principle  to  propose  that 


and  not  from  any  Christian  principle. 
But  in  that  case  his  could  no  more  be 
called  a  Christian  life,  than  that  of  a  brute 
animal,  or  than  the  movements  of  a  ma- 
chine. The  patient  who  has  been  cured 
of  his  disease,  by  strictly  conforming  to 


the  poor  should  indeed  be  taught  to  read, 
and  should  have  the  four  Evangelists  put 
into  their  hands,  but  that  all,  except  learned 
divines,  should  be  discouraged  as  much 
as  possible  from  the  perusal  of  the  Apos- 
tolic Epistles,  lest  they  should  "  wrest 


the  directions  of  a  skilful  physician,  is  these  to  their  own  destruction;"  a  pre- 
not,  by  swallowing  the  medicines  pre-  j  text  which  was  urged  with  equal  reason, 
scribed,  a  step  the  nearer  to  becoming  and  perhaps  with  more  consistency,  by 


himself  a  physician/ 

Every  part  of  the  New  Testament  bears 
witness  to  the  truth  of  what  I  have  been 
saying.  The  apostles  do  not  even  allow 
it  to  be  sufficient,  that  a  man  should  be- 


the  Romanists,  for  precluding  the  people 
from  reading  "  the  other  Scriptures"  also.* 
The  Christian  religion,  as  represented 
in  Scripture,  is  one  that  is  to  be  believed 
on  rational  conviction,  and  studied,  and 


lieve  in  Christianity,  without  knowing  felt,  and  brought  into  the  practice  of  life, 
why  he  believes  it.  "  Be  always  ready,"  |  by  each  man  for  himself,  in  all  classes  of 
says  the  apostle  Paul,  "  to  give  a  reason  society.  The  Christian  religion,  as  per- 
for  the  hope  that  is  in  you."  Indeed  it ;  verted  by  the  church  of  Rome,  and  as 
is  plain,  that  if  any  one  believes  any  thing  j  human  nature  is  always  tending  to  per- 


without  any  reason,  but  merely  because 
some  one  has  told  him  to  do  so,  even  if 


*  See  Arist.  Eth.  Nic.  b.  ii.  ch.  4.  b.  vi.  ch.  12. 


vert  it,  is  in  fact  two  religions ;  one  for 


*  I  have  treated  fully  of  this  question  in  Essay 
II.  Second  Series. 

D 


38 

the  initiated  few,  and  one  for  the  mass  of 
the  people,  who  are  to  follow  implicitly 
the  guidance  of  the  others,  trusting  to 
their  vicarious  wisdom,  and  piety,  and 
learning,  helieving  and  practising  just  as 
much  as  these  permit  and  require. 

Perhaps  the  use  of  the  terms  "  pastor" 
and  «  flock,"  to  express  the  relation  be- 
tween the  minister  and  his  congregation, 
may  have  led  the  incautious  to  form  in- 
sensibly a  notion  of  some  more  close 
analogy  than  really  subsists.  He  cannot 
too  often  or  too  earnestly  warn  the  peo- 
ple, that  they  are  not  properly  his  flock, 
but  Christ's ;  he  is  only  an  assistant  and 
servant  of  the  "  chief  Shepherd ;"  and 
must  not  only  refer  at  every  step  to 
Scripture,  but  also  warn  his  hearers  not 
to  take  upon  trust  his  interpretation,  but 
themselves  to  "  search  the  Scriptures 
daily,  whether  those  things  be  so"  which 
he  teaches.  The  language  of  Scrip- 
ture is,  (I  believe  invariably,)  "  feed  the 
flock  of  Christ;"  "feed  my  sheep,"  &c. 

But  the  Romish  system  makes  the  peo- 
ple altogether  the  priest's  flock,  by  ex- 
alting him  into  the  mediator  between 
them  and  God.  Hence  sprung  the  doc- 
trine of  the  necessity  of  confession  to  a 
priest,  and  of  the  efficacy  of  the  penance 
he  may  enjoin,  and  the  absolution  he 
bestows — hence  the  celibacy  of  the 
clergy,  as  of  an  order  of  men  of  peculiar 
sanctity.  Hence  the  doctrine  of  works 
of  supererogation,  and  of  the  supposed 
transferableness  from  one  man  to  another 
of  the  merit  of  such  extraordinary  holi- 
ness as  is  not  required  of  Christians  in 
general. 

§.  9.  I  repeat,  that  these,  and  a  whole 
train  of  similar  absurdities,  are  too  gross 
to  have  been  forced  upon  the  belief  of 
men  not  predisposed  to  receive  them  : — 
predisposed,  I  mean,  not  by  mere  intel- 
lectual weakness,  but  by  a  moral  perver- 
sity combined  with  it ; — by  a  heart  alien- 
ated from  God,  yet  fearful  of  his  displea- 
sure, and  coveting  the  satisfaction  of  a  quiet 
conscience  at  the  least  possible  expense 
of  personal  piety  and  personal  exertion. 

In  all  ages  and  countries,  man,  through 
the  disposition  he  inherits  from  our  first 
parents,  is  more  desirous  of  a  quiet  and 
approving,  than  of  a  vigilant  and  tender 
conscience ; — studious  to  escape  the 
thought  of  spiritual  danger,  more  than  the 
danger  itself;  and  to  induce,  at  any  price, 
some  one  to  assure  him  confidently  that 
he  is  safe — to  "  prophesy  unto  him 
smooth  things,"  and  to  "speak  peace," 
even  "  when  there  is  no  peace." 


VICARIOUS  RELIGION. 


Inexcusable  indeed,  in  the  sight  of 
God,  are  those  who  encourage  and  take 
advantage  of  such  a  delusion;  but  the 
people  have  little  right  to  complain  of 
them.  To  many  of  them  one  might  say, 
"  you  have  had  what  you  sought ;  you 
were  not  seeking  in  sincerity  to  know 
and  to  please  God ;  if  you  had  been,  you 
would  have  perceived  the  vanity  of  at- 
tempting to  substitute  the  piety  and  good 
works  of  a  sinful  fellow-mortal  for  your 
own  ;  you  would  have  perceived  the  ex- 
travagance of  imagining  that  you  could 
purchase  happiness  or  relief  in  a  future 
state,  by  hiring  a  priest  to  say  masses  for 
your  soul :  what  you  sought  for  in  reality 
was  the  repose  of  your  soul  in  this  life ; 
a  security  from  the  disturbances  of  con- 
science, and  from  a  sense  of  personal  re- 
sponsibility :  these  false  comforts  are  what 
in  reality  your  heart  was  set  on; 
and  these  alone  are  what  you  have  pur- 
chased." 

If  such  then  be  the  natural  propensity 
of  the  human  mind,  we  must  expect  that 
it  will  always,  and  every  where,  be 
struggling  to  show  itself,  not  only  when 
encouraged,  but  when  not  carefully 
watched  and  repressed,  by  the  ministry. 

I  might  appeal  to  any  one  who  has 
had,  and  has  made  use  of,  the  requisite 
experience,  whether  he  has  not  continu- 
ally met  with  more  or  less  of  this  ten- 
dency to  substitute  the  religious  know- 
ledge, the  faith — the  piety — the  prayers — 
the  holiness  and  purity,  of  the  minister, 
for  that  of  the  layman. 

How  many  are  there  that  regard  the 
study  of  the  Scriptures,  and  the  endeavour 
to  understand  them,  as  a  professional  pur- 
suit, very  becoming  to  a  clergyman,  but 
of  which  little  or  nothing  is  required  of 
the  laity ; — that  speak  of  all  the  peculiar 
doctrines  of  Christianity  under  the  title 
of  "  theological  mysteries,"  with  which 
the  clergy  may  suitably  be  occupied,  but 
with  which  it  is  needless,  if  not  even  pre- 
sumptuous and  profane,  for  the  unlearned 
to  concern  themselves  ; — that  regard  the 
practice  of  family  devotions  as  very 
proper  in  the  house  of  a  clergyman,  but 
in  any  other,  as  uncalled  for,  or  even  sa- 
vouring of  pharisaical  ostentation.  Nay, 
even  licentious  or  profane  discourse,  in- 
temperance and  debauchery,  or  devoted- 
ness  to  frivolous  amusements,  we  often 
hear  characterized  as  "  unbecoming  a  cler- 
gyman," in  a  sort  of  tone  which  implies 
the  speaker's  feeling  to  be,  that  they  are 
unbecoming  merely  to  a  clergyman*  not 
to  a  Christian. 


VICARIOUS    RELIGION. 


39 


§.  10.  Many  things  again  there  are, 
which,  being  considered  as  in  themselves 
indifferent,  are  not  necessarily  unsuitable 
to  a  Christian  as  such,  but  of  which  some 
are  regarded  by  a  greater,  and  some  by  a 
smaller  number,  as  professionally  un- 
suited  to  a  minister  of  religion.  Now  it 
might  perhaps  have  been  expected,  that 
the  views,  as  to  this  point,  of  different 
persons  among  the  laity,  should  corre- 
spond respectively  with  the  different  views 
they  take  of  their  own  obligations ;  I 
mean,  that  those  who  are  the  less,  or  the 
more,  scrupulous  as  to  their  own  conduct, 
should  allow  a  greater  or  a  less  latitude 
to  the  clergy  in  respect  of  the  professional 
strictness  of  life  and  seriousness  of  de- 
meanour required  of  them.  But  experi- 
ence shows  that  this  is  very  often  the  re- 
verse of  the  fact.  None  are  more  rigid 
in  exacting  of  clergymen  not  only  purity 
of  life,  but  the  most  unbending  seriousness 
of  deportment,  and  abstinence  from  almost 
every  kind  of  amusement,  than  many  of 
those  who,  in  their  own  lives,  are  the 
most  unrestrained  in  the  pursuit  of  amuse- 
ment, and  who  exhibit  the  greatest  degree 
of  frivolity  or  of  worldliness  in  their  pur- 
suits— of  levity  in  their  conversation,  and 
of  inattention  to  religious  subjects.  Does 
not  this  imply  a  lurking  tendency  to  that 
very  error  which  has  been  openly  sanc- 
tioned and  established  in  the  Romish 
church  ?  the  error  of  thinking  to  serve 
God  by  a  deputy  and  representative  : — of 
substituting  respect  for  religion  and  its 
ministers,  for  personal  religion ; — and  re- 
garding the  learning  and  faith,  the  prayer 
and  piety,  and  the  scrupulous  sanctity,  of 
the  priest,  as  being  in  some  way  or  other 
efficaciously  transferred  from  him  to  the 
people.  It  seems  some  consolation  to 
such  persons  as  I  am  alluding  to  that  they 
have  heard  sound  doctrine  at  least,  if  they 
have  not  laid  it  to  heart ;  that  they  have 
witnessed  and  respected  a  strict  and  un- 
blemished life,  and  a  serious  deportment, 
though  they  have  not  copied  it ;  and  that 
on  their  death-bed  they  will  be  enabled 
to  send  for  a  minister  of  undoubted  learn- 
ing and  piety,  and  enjoy  the  benefit  of 
his  prayers  and  his  blessing,  though  the 
holy  water  and  the  extreme  unction  of 
the  Romanists  have  been  laid  aside. 
They  take  little  care  indee£to  keep  their 
own  lights  burning;  but  when  summoned 
to  meet  their  Lord,  they  will  have  one  to 
whom  they  may  apply  in  their  extremity, 
saying,  "  Give  us  'of  your  oil,  for  our 
lamps  are  going  out." 

All  indeed,  who  are  in  any  degree  un- 


der such  a  delusion  as  I  am  describing, 
|  are  not  subject  to  it  in  the  same  degree-, 
|  but   attentive   observation  will  convince 
j  every  candid  inquirer,  that  in  this,  as  well 
'  as  in  other  points,  mankind  are  naturally 
'and  generally  Romanists  in  heart; — pre- 
disposed, by  the  tendencies  of  their  ori- 
ginal disposition,  to  errors  substantially 
the  same  with  those  which  are  embodied 
in  the  Romish  system. 

But  are  not,  it  may  be  urged,  ignorance 
of  religion  and  unchristian  conduct  much 
more  censurable  in  the  ministers  of  reli- 
gion than  in  others  ?  The  answer  is,  that 
this  is  the  point  for  them  to  consider.  Of 
every  one  the  more  is  required  in  propor- 
tion as  the  more  is  given — in  proportion 
as  his  opportunities  may  have  been  greater, 
and  his  temptations  less,  than  his  neigh- 
bour's ;  but  this  is  a  matter  for  him,  not 
for  his  neighbour,  to  be  occupied  upon. 
Let  each  class  of  men,  and  each  indivi- 
dual man,  think  chiefly  of  improving  the 
talent  committed  to  himself;  remember- 
ing, that  even  the  mote  in  his  own  eye  is 
more  his  concern  than  the  beam  that  is 
in  his  brother's.  It  is  for  the  clergy  to 
meditate  on  their  own  peculiar  and  deep 
responsibility :  it  is  for  the  laity  to  con- 
sider, not  how  much  more  is  expected  of 
others,  but  how  much  of  themselves. 

But  again,  should  there,  it  may  be  said, 
be  no  professional  difference  in  habits  of 
life  between  the  clergy  and  laity  ? 

There  should  :  for,  in  the  first  place,  as 
religious  teachers,  they  may  be  expected 
to  be  more  especially  occupied  in  fitting 
themselves  for  that  office ;  in  qualifying 
themselves  to  explain,  and  to  enforce  on 
others,  the  evidences,  the  doctrines,  and 
the  obligations  of  religion ;  but  they  are 
not  to  be  expected  to  understand  more  of 
things  surpassing  human  reason,  than  God 
has  made  known  by  revelation,  or  to  be 
the  depositaries  of  certain  mysterious 
speculative  doctrines  ;  but  "  stewards  of 
the  mysteries  of  God,"  rightly  dividing  . 
or  dispensing  (o§6oTo/xoyvTsj)  the  word  of 
truth." 

And  in  respect  of  their  general  habits 
of  life  and  deportment,  undoubtedly  they 
should  consider,  that  not  only  of  every 
profession,  but  of  each  age,  sex,  and  con- 
dition in  life,  something  characteristic  is 
fairly  expected  in  regard  to  matters  in 
themselves  indifferent.  The  same  things 
are  not  decorous  or  indecorous,  in  a  ma- 
gistrate, and  a  private  person — in  a  young, 
and  an  old  man,  in  those  of  the  higher, 
and  of  the  lower  orders  of  society,  in  a 
man,  and  in  a  woman,  or  in  persons  of 


40 


VICARIOUS    RELIGION. 


different  professions.  And  each  man's 
own  discretion  must  determine  how  he  is 
to  conduct  himself  in  respect  of  things 
intrinsically  indifferent,  so  as  to  preserve 
the  decorum  of  his  own  peculiar  situa- 
tion, as  distinct  from  another's,  without 
giving  needless  offence,  or  in  any  other 
way  producing  ill  effects,  on  either  side. 

§  11.  For  there  are  dangers  on  both 
sides ;  and  with  one  brief  remark  on  a 
danger  not  unfrequently  overlooked,  I 
will  dismiss  the  present  subject. 

It  is  I  believe  sometimes  supposed,  by 
some  of  the  best-in tentioned  among  the 
ministry,  that  there  is  little  or  no  danger  ex- 
cept on  the  side  of  laxity; — that  excessive 
scrupulosity  in  respect  of  matters  in  them- 
selves indifferent  can,  at  the  worst,  only 
be  unnecessary.  Of  course  it  will  not  be 
expected  that  T  should  enter  into  particu- 
lars, or  attempt  to  draw  the  line  in  each 
case  that  may  occur  :  but  the  remark  to 
which  1  would  invite  attention  is,  that  as 
it  is  confessedly  one  great  part  of  a  cler- 
gyman's duty  to  set  a  good  example,  so, 
it  is  self-evident  that  his  example  can  have 
no  influence — (Accept  on  his  brother  mi- 
nisters)— no  chance  of  being  imitated  by 
the  people,  in  respect  of  any  thing  which 
he  is  supposed  to  do  or  to  abstain  from, 
merely  as  a  clergyman.  Whatever  things 
they  are  which  are  supposed  to  be  profes- 
sionally decorous  or  indecorous — what- 
ever is  supposed  to  be  suitable  or  unsuita- 
ble to  a  clergyman  as  such,  and  not  to 
Christians  as  Christians — it  is  plain  that 
no  strictness,  on  the  part  of  the  clergy,  in 
these  points,  can  have  the  least  tendency 
to  induce  a  corresponding  strictness  in 
the  laity.  I  am  not  saying  that  there  are 
no  points  of  this  nature ; — that  there 
should  be  nothing  peculiar  belonging  to 
the  clergy;  but  merely  that  in  these  points 
they  are  setting  no  example  to  the  peo- 
ple ; — that  that,  in  short  is  not  an  example, 
which  is  supposed  peculiar  to  one  pro- 
fession, and  therefore  not  meant  to  be  imi- 
tated in  others.  I  admit  that  a  life  of 
great  strictness  in  such  points  may  give 
great  satisfaction — may  be  admired — may 
procure  respect  for  the  individual,  and  so 
far,  may  even  give  weight  to  what  he  says 
on  other  points;  nay,  it  may  be  even 
called  by  the  unthinking  exemplary;  but 


it  is  plain  that  so  far  as  it  is  regarded  as 
professional,  it  never  can  be  exemplary, 
except  to  the  clergy  themselves. 

And  the  more  there  is  of  this  profes- 
sional distinction,  the  greater  will  be  the 
danger,  and  the  more  sedulously  must  it 
be  guarded  against,  of  the  people's  falling 
into  the  error  of  regarding  other  things 
also  as  pertaining  to  the  Christian  minis- 
ter alone,  which  in  fact  pertain  to  the 
Christian  :  the  longer  the  list  is  of  things 
forbidden  or  enjoined  to  the  clergy  and 
not  to  the  laity,  the  greater  the  risk  of 
their  adding  to  the  list  that  Christian  know- 
ledge, that  Christian  spirit  and  temper, 
and  thatChristian  self-control  and  sobriety 
of  conduct,  which  are  required  of  all  that 
partake  of  the  Christian  covenant  and 
Christian  hopes.* 

Not  only  therefore  must  the  clergy  be 
blameless  in  the  performance  of  their  du- 
ties, but  they  must  carefully  distinguish 
which  of  them  are  their  duties  as  Chris- 
tianS)  and  which  merely  as  ministers;  and 
with  that  view  they  must  avoid  unneces- 
sarily multiplying  professional  distinc- 
tions; lest  the  most  unimpeachable  con- 
duct should  fail  to  convey  an  example, 
from  its  being  supposed  not  designed  for 
imitation. 

We  cannot  indeed  be  too  learned  in 
"  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of  hea- 
ven," and  in  the  knowledge  of  "  all  the 
counsel  of  God,"  or  too  scrupulous  in  our 
conformity  to  his  will :  but  then  only  can 
we  be  w  pure  from  the  blood  of  all  men," 
if  we  "  set  before  them  all  the  counsel  of 
God," — make  known  to  them  "  the  mys- 
tery of  the  Gospel,"  and  their  fellowship 
in  that  mystery" — and  lead  them  to  apply 
practically  their  religious  knowledge,  and 
to  be  followers  of  us,  even  as  we  are  of 
Christ  Jesus." 


*  "  Absurd  as  the  thought  is  when  expressed 
in  words,  man  would  be  virtuous,  be  humane,  be 
charitable,  by  proxy,  &c."  Letter  to  Mr.  Peel, 
on  Pauperism,  p.  19. 

How  far  I  am  indebted  to  this  work  for  the  first 
suggestion  of  many  of  the  principles  I  have  en- 
deavoured to  develope  in  the  present  chapter,  is 
more  than  I  can  distinctly  pronounce :  especially 
as  the  author  is  one  who  has  more  or  less  contri- 
buted, directly  or  indirectly,  to  the  formation  of 
nearly  all  my  opinions  on  the  most  important 
points. 


PIOUS    FRAUDS. 

CHAP.  III. 
PIOUS    FRAUDS. 


41 


§.  1.  IT  may  be  said  of  almost  all  the 
Romish  errors,  that  they  not  only  have 
their  common  source  in  man's  frail  na- 
ture, but  also  are  so  intimately  connected 
together,  that  they  will  generally  be  found, 
if  not  directly  to  generate,  yet  mutually  to 
foster  and  promote,  one  another.  For 
example,  the  disposition  already  noticed, 
to  speculate  concerning  superhuman  mys- 
teries unconnected  with  practice,  though 
it  does  not  alone  produce,  yet  favours 
and  encourages  the  error  of  reserving  one 
portion  of  faith  and  piety  for  a  superior 
initiated  class,  and  making  their  religion 
a  vicarious  substitute  for  that  of  the  peo- 
ple, who  are  to  trust  in  and  implicitly  fol- 
low the  direction  of  their  guide.  And 
this  corruption  again,  though  it  does  not 
directly  engender,  yet  fosters  and  in- 
creases another ;  that  of  maintaining  this 
spiritual  tyranny  by  deceit.  Those  who 
have  once  adopted  the  system  of  keeping 
the  vulgar  in  partial  darkness,  will  easily 
reconcile  themselves  to  the  practice  of 
misleading  them,  where  it  seems  needful, 
by  false  lights.  From  a  conviction  of 
the  necessity  of  keeping  them  in  implicit 
subjection  to  their  authority,  the  transition 
is  easy  to  the  maintenance  of  that  author- 
ity, by  what  are  regarded  as  salutary  de- 
lusions. 

It  is  not  however  to  any  deliberate 
scheme  of  an  ambitious  hierarchy  that 
this  branch  of  priestcraft  owes  its  origin  ; 
nor  is  it  indeed  properly  priestcraft.  The 
tendency  to  resort  to  deceit  for  the  com- 
passing of  any  end  whatever  that  seems 
hardly  attainable  by  honest  means,  and  j 
not  least,  if  it  be  supposed  a  good  end,  is ! 
inherent,  if  any  fault  be  inherent,  in  our 
corrupt  nature.  And  in  each  age  and 
country  instances  occur  of  this  offence, 
such  as  perhaps  in  a  different  age  and 
country  appear  so  monstrous  as  to  be 
hardly  credible,  from  the  difficulty  of  es- 
timating aright  the  peculiar  circumstances 
which  in  each  instance  constituted  the 
temptation. 

And  this  is  more  peculiarly  the   case, 
when  those  who  are  passing  judgment  on  ! 
any  instance  of  fraud,  chance  to  regard  1 
that  as  a  bad  end  which  the  authors  of  j 
the  fraud  pursued  as  a  good  one; — when 
they  are  convinced  of  the  falsity  of  the } 
conclusion,  which  was  perhaps  sincerely 
held,  by  those  who  sought  to  support  it 
by  deceitful  means.     For  example,  the 
6 


i  fraud  related  to  have  been  practised  by 
the  Jewish  rulers,  in  reference  to  our 
Lord's  resurrection,  seems  at  first  sight 
almost  to  surpass  the  limits  of  human 
impudence  and  wickedness  in  imposture. 
"  And  when  they  were  assembled  with  the 
elders,  they  gave  large  money  unto  the 
soldiers,  saying,  Say  ye,  His  disciples 
came  by  night  and  stole  him  away  while 
we  slept."*  But  let  it  be  remembered, 
that  the  deceit  here  recorded,  must  cer- 
tainly be  referred  to  the  class  of  what  are 
called  "  pious  frauds  :"  those,  namely, 
which  any  one  employs  and  justifies  to 
himself,  as  conducing,  according  to  his 
view,  to  the  defence  or  promotion  of  true 
religion.  There  is  in  such  conduct  a 
union  of  sincerity  and  insincerity — of 
conscientiousness  in  respect  of  the  end, 
and  unscrupulous  dishonesty  as  to  the 
means  :  for  without  the  one  of  these  in- 
gredients there  could  be  no  fraud;  and 
without  the  other,  it  could  in  no  sense  be 
termed  a  pious  fraud. 

And  such,  I  say,  undoubtedly  was  the 
fraud  we  are  considering.  For  the  Jewish 
elders  certainly  did  not  believe  in  Jesus 
as  the  Messiah,  though  they  could  not 
deny  his  superhuman  powers.  There  is 
hardly  any  evidence  which  a  man  may 
not  bring  himself  to  resist,  if  it  come,  not 
before,  but  after,  he  has  fully  made  up  his 
mind.  But  in  the  present  instance  the 
established  belief  in  magic,  and  the  agency 
of  demons  in  subjection  to  those  skilled 
in  the  art,  furnished  a  better  evasion  than 
could  be  devised  among  MS,  of  the  force 
of  the  evidence  offered.  And  being  pre- 
determined by  their  own  view  of  the 
ancient  prophecies,  to  reject  the  claim 
of  Jesus,  they  pronounced  him  (as  the 
unbelieving  Jews  do  at  this  dayf)  to 
be  a  powerful  magician,  and  one  who 
"  deceived  the  people."  As  maintainers, 
therefore,  of  the  Mosaic  law,  in  whose 

*Matt.  xxviii.  12,  13. 

•j-  A  book  is  now  extant  and  well  known  among 
the  Jews,  which  gives  this  account  of  him :  and  it 
furnishes  a  striking  confirmation  of  the  statement 
of  the  Evangelists ;  viz.,  that  the  unbelieving  Jews 
of  his  days  did  admit  his  miraculous  powers.  For 
the  book  must  have  been  compiled  from  traditions 
afloat  in  the  nation ;  and  it  is  utterly  inconceivable 
that,  if  those  who  were  cotemporary  with  our 
Lord,  and  on  the  spot,  had  denied  the  fact  of  the 
miracles,  any  tradition  should  afterwards  have 
sprung  up,  admitting  the  miracles,  and  account- 
ing for  them  by  the  hypothesis  of  magic. 
D2 


PIOUS    FRAUDS. 


divine  authority  they  were  believers,  they 
held  themselves  not  only  authorized,  but 
bound,  to  suppress  his  religion:  accord- 
ing to  our  Lord's  own  prophecy,  "  Who- 
soever killeth  you,  will  think  that  he 
doeth  God  service."  For  the  prevention 
therefore  of  the  mischief  they  apprehend- 
ed, "  lest  all  men  should  believe  in  him, 
and  the  Romans  should  come,  and  take 
away  their  place  and  nation,"  (an  event 
which,  it  is  remarkable,  did  actually  take 
place  in  consequence  of  their  rejecting 
him,  and  trusting  to  false  Christs,)  they 
scrupled  not  to  resort  to  falsehood,  to 
weaken  the  effect  of  his  miracles. 

The  benefit  derivable  from  such  an  ex- 
ample as  this  is  apt  to  be  lost  to  us,  from 
our  dwelling  exclusively  on  the  badness 
of  the  object  these  men  pursued;  and  not 
enough  considering,  abstractedly  from 
that,  the  profligacy  of  the  means  em- 
ployed. Persuaded  as  we  are  that  Jesus 
was  the  true  Messiah,  we  are  apt,  in  con- 
templating the  perversity  of  those  who 
closed  their  eyes  against  the  evidence  of 
this,  to  blend  in  our  minds  that  sin  with 
the  other,  which  is  quite  distinct — the 
fraud  with  which  Christianity  was  op- 
posed;— to  mix  up  and  connect  in  our 
thoughts,  as  they  were  connected  in  fact, 
the  rejection  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  the 
falsification  of  the  evidence  of  his  resur- 
rection;— and,  in  short,  almost  to  forget 
that  if  Jesus  had  been  indeed  a  deceiver, 
that  would  not  have  justified  the  employ- 
ment of  deceit  to  maintain  God's  cause 
against  him. 

In  proportion  as  feelings  of  this  kind 
prevail,  the  benefit  of  such  an  example  to 
ourselves  is  destroyed.  Our  abhorrence 
of  their  sin  has  no  tendency  to  fortify  us 
against  temptation ; — against  that  tempta- 
tion, I  mean,  in  the  very  nature  of  which 
it  is  implied  that  the  end  proposed  is  sin- 
cerely believed  to  be  good.  Whether  this 
belief  chance  to  be  correct  or  not,  a  just 
estimate  of  the  heinousness  of  what  is 
properly  denominated  pious  fraud,  would 
lead  us  to  regard  it  with  equal  detestation, 
whether  employed  in  a  good  or  in  a  bad 
cause. 

§.  2.  The  tendency  to  take  this  indis- 
tinct view  of  things — to  contemplate  in 
confused  conjunction  a  bad  end,  and 
wrrong  means  employed  to  support  it,  has 
doubtless  contributed  to  prevent  Protest- 
ants from  deriving  the  benefit  they  might, 
in  the  way  of  example  and  warning.,  from 
the  errors  of  the  Romanists.  In  our  ab- 
horrence of  the  frauds  they  have  so  often 
employed  in  support  of  their  corrupt  sys- 


tem, we  are  prone  perhaps  to  forget,  or 
at  least  not  sufficiently  to  consider,  that 
it  is  not  the  corruptness  of  the  system 
that  makes  the  frauds  detestable;  and  that 
the  same  sin  may  no  less  easily  beset 
ourselves,  and  will  be  no  less  offensive 
to  God,  however  sound  may  be  our  own 
system  of  faith.  With  a  view  to  keep  this 
more  steadily  before  the  mind,  I  have 
limited  my  remarks  to  the  subject  of  what 
are  called  pious  frauds,  because  it  is  against 
these  alone  that  we  have  need  to  be  put  oa 
our  guard.  It  would  be  vain  to  admonish 
an  unbelieving  hypocrite;  but  a  sincere 
Protestant  Christian  may  need  to  be  re- 
minded, that  as  he  believes  his  own  reli- 
gion to  be  true,  so  do  many  of  the  Ro- 
manists believe  theirs:  and  that  though 
they  are  in  fact  erroneous  in  this  belief, 
it  is  not  that  erroneousness  that  either 
leads  them  to  resort  to  pious  frauds,  or 
exposes  them  to  just  censure  for  so  do- 
ing; nor,  consequently,  can  the  correctness 
of  his  own  faith  secure  him  from  the 
danger,  or  extenuate  the  guilt,  of  prac- 
tising a  like  deceit. 

I  have  dwelt  thus  earnestly  on  a  truth 
which,  though  perpetually  overlooked  in 
practice,  is  self-evident  the  moment  it  is 
stated,  because  the  mistake  opposed  to  it 
is  closely  connected  with,  or  rather  is  a 
part  of,  that  which  it  has  been  my  princi- 
pal object  throughout  the  present  work 
to  counteract; — the  mistake,  I  mean,  of 
referring  various  errors  of  Romanism  to 
the  Romish  church,  as  their  source — of 
representing  that  system  as  the  cause  of 
those  corruptions  which  in  fact  produced 
it,  and  which  have  their  origin  in  our 
common  nature:  and  hence  of  regarding 
what  are  emphatically  called  the  errors 
of  Romanism,  as  peculiar  to  that  church, 
and  into  which,  consequently,  Protestants 
are  in  no  danger  of  falling.  But  all  of 
them,  as  I  have  already  endeavoured  in 
some  instances  to  point  out,  may  be 
traced  up  to  the  evil  propensities  of  hu- 
man nature :  and  the  one  now  under  con- 
sideration, no  less  than  the  rest.  The 
tendency  to  aim  at  a  supposed  good  end 
by  fraudulent  means,  is  not  peculiar  to 
the  members  of  the  Romish  church; — it 
is  not  peculiar  to  those  who  are  mistaken 
in  their  belief  as  to  what  is  a  good  end ; 
— it  is  not  peculiar  to  any  sect,  age,  or 
country ; — it  is  not  peculiar  to  any  subject 
matter,  religious  or  secular,  but  is  the 
spontaneous  growth  of.  the  corrupt  soil 
of  man's  heart. 

Protestants,  however,  are  apt  to  forget 
this :  and  it  is  often  needful  to  remind 


PIOUS    FRAUDS. 


43 


them,  and  only  to  remind  them,  (for  de- 
tailed proof  is  unnecessary,)  that  frauds 
of  this  kind  are  every  where,  and  always 
have  been,  prevalent; — that  the  heathen 
legislators  and  philosophers,  for  instance, 
encouraged,  or  connived  at,  a  system  of 
popular  mythology  which  they  disbe- 
lieved, with  a  view  to  the  public  good — 
for  the  sake  of  maintaining  among .  the 
vulgar,  through  fear  of  the  gods,  and  ex- 
pectations of  Elysium  and  Tartarus,  a 
conformity  to  those  principles  of  rectitude 
whose  authority  they  sincerely  acknow- 
ledged, though  on  grounds  totally  uncon- 
nected with  religion.  Their  statesmen 
deluded  and  overawed  the  populace  with 
prodigies  and  oracles,  not  much  less  than 
the  Romish  priesthood.  Nor  has  the 
Greek  church,  or  the  other  eastern 
churches,  always  independent  as  they 
have  been  of  the  church  of  Rome,  and 
generally  hostile  to  her,  fallen  much  short 
of  her  in  this  and  indeed  in  most  of  her 
other  abominations. 

The  temptation  indeed  to  deceive,  either 
positively  or  negatively,  i.  e.,  either  by  in- 
troducing, or  by  tolerating  error,  is  one 
of  the  strongest  that  assail  our  frail  nature, 
in  cases  where  the  conscience  is  soothed 
by  our  having  in  view  what  we  believe 
to  be  a  good  end,  and  where  that  end 
seems  hardly  attainable  but  by  fraudulent 
means.  For  the  path  of  falsehood,  though 
in  reality  slippery  and  dangerous,  will 
often  be  the  most  obvious,  and  seemingly 
the  shortest.  Accordingly  nothing  is  more 
common  among  the  indolent  and  thought- 
less, when  entrusted  with  the  manage- 
ment of  children,  than  to  resort  to  this 
compendious  way  of  controlling  them  ; 
for  the  employment  of  deceit  with  those 
who  are  so  easily  deceived,  will  often 
serve  a  present  turn  much  better  than 
scrupulous  veracity ;  though  at  the  ex- 
pense of  tenfold  ultimate  inconvenience.* 

§.  3.  The  tendency  then  to  this  partial 
dishonesty — towards  the  justification  of 
fraudulent  means  by  the  supposed  good- 
ness of  the  object — being  so  deeply  rooted 
in  man's  nature,  found  its  way  of  course, 
along  with  the  other  corruptions  incident 
to  humanity,  into  the  Romish  church. 
And  it  was  fostered  by  those  other  cor- 
ruptions ;  especially,  as  has  been  already 
remarked,  by  that  one  which  was  treated 
of  in  the  preceding  chapter;  the  drawing, 
namely,  of  an  unduly  strong  line  of  sepa- 
ration between  the  priesthood  and  the 
laity ;  so  as  to  constitute  almost  two  dis- 


Mrs.  Hoare's  Hints  on  Early  Education. 


|  tinct  kinds  of  Christianity  for  the  two 
classes,  whereof  the  one  were  by  some 
superior  sanctity  and  knowledge  to  com- 
pensate for  the  deficiencies  of  the  other, 
and  to  be  not  only  their  spiritual  directors, 
but  in  some  sort  their  substitutes  in  the 
service  of  the  Deity. 

When  it  was  understood  that  the  mo- 
nastic orders,  and  the  clergy  in  general, 
were  to  be  regarded  as  persons  initiated 
into  certain  sacred  mysteries,  withheld 
from  the  vulgar — as  professing  a  certain 
distinct  and  superior  description  of  Chris- 
tianity— and  as  guides  whom  the  great 
mass  of  Christians  were  to  trust  implicitly, 
it  naturally  followed,  that  the  knowledge 
of  Scripture  was  considered,  first,  as  un- 
necessary, and  next,  as  unfit,  for  the  gene- 
rality :  and  it  was  equally  natural  to  pro- 
ceed from  the  suppression  of  knowledge 
to  the  toleration  first,  and  then  to  the  en- 
couragement and  propagation  of  supersti- 
tious errors  among  the  multitude.  There 
is  (as  I  formerly  observed)  a  craving  in 
ignorant  minds  after  the  delusions  of  su- 
perstition :  and  this  it  was  thought  reason- 
able to  indulge,  in  the  case  of  those  whom 
it  was  supposed  impossible  or  improper 
to  enlighten.  Incapable  as  they  were  reck- 
oned, and  as  they  consequently  became, 
of  believing  in  their  religion  on  rational 
and  solid  evidence,  or  of  being  kept  in 
the  paths  of  Christian  duty  by  the  highest 
and  purest  Christian  principles,  it  seemed 
necessary  to  let  their  faith  and  their  prac- 
tice strike  root,  as  it  were,  in  the  artificial 
soil  of  idle  legends  about  miracles  wrought 
by  holy  relics,  and  at  the  intercession  of 
saints — in  the  virtues  of  holy  water,  ex- 
treme unction,  and  the  like. 

How  far,  in  each  particular  instance, 
any  one,  whether  of  the  Romish  or  of 
any  other  persuasion,  who  propagates  and 
connives  at  any  error,  may  be  himself 
deceived,  or  may  be  guilty  of  pious  fraud, 
— and  how  far  his  fraud,  if  it  be  such, 
may  be  properly  a  pious  fraud,  i.  e.,  de- 
signed to  promote  what  he  sincerely  be- 
lieves to  be  a  good  end,  or,  on  the  other 
hand,  may  be  carried  on  from  interested 
or  ambitious  views — all  this  can  of  course 
be  thoroughly  known  to  none  but  the 
Searcher  of  hearts.  It  is  highly  probable, 
however,  that  most  of  these  persons  have 
begun  in  wilful  deceit,  and  advanced  more 
and  more  towards  superstitious  belief. 
Indeed  it  is  matter  of  common  remark, 
that  those  who  have  long  repeated  a  false- 
hood, often  bring  themselves  at  length  to 
credit  it.  The  very  curse  sent  on  those 
who  do  not  love  the  truth  is  that  of  "a 


44 


PIOUS  FRAUDS. 


strong  delusion  that  they  should  believe 
a  lie."  And  thus,  in  the  present  instance, 
when  any  one  is  eagerly  bent  on  the  pur- 
suit of  a  certain  end,  he  will  commonly 
succeed  in  persuading  himself  in  time, 
first,  that  it  is  a  pious  and  good  end — 
then,  that  it  is  justifiable  to  promote  it  by 
tolerating  or  inculcating  what  is  false — 
and  lastly,  that  that  very  falsehood  is 
truth.  Many  a  one,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
gives  himself  credit  for  being  conscien- 
tious, who  is  so  indeed  in  one  sense  of 
the  word,  but  in  this  sense  only,  not  that 
he  is,  properly  speaking,  led  by  his  con- 
science, but  that  he  himself  leads  his  con- 
science ; — that  he  has  persevered  in  what 
is  wrong,  till  he  has  at  length  convinced 
himself  that  it  is  right. 

§.  4.  That  intermediate  state,  however, 
between  complete  hypocrisy  and  com- 
plete self-delusion — that  state  which  gives 
rise  to  what  are  properly  called  pious 
frauds — is  probably  much  more  common 
than  either  of  the  extremes.  Those,  for 
instance,  who  opposed  the  reformation, 
were  probably  most  of  them  neither 
worldly-minded  hypocrites,  altogether  in- 
different about  true  religion,  nor,  on  the 
other  hand,  sincere  believers  in  the  justice 
of  all  the  claims  of  the  Romish  see  which 
they  supported,  and  in  the  truth  of  all  the 
Romish  doctrines  which  they  maintained ; 
but  men  who  were  content  to  submit  to 
some  injustice,  and  to  connive  at  some  I 
error,  rather  than  risk,  in  the  attempt  to  ! 
reform  abuses,  the  overthrow  of  all  reli- 
gion. They  preferred  an  edifice,  which, 
though  not  faultless,  they  considered  j 
highly  serviceable,  to  the  apprehended  j 
alternative  of  a  heap  of  ruins.  And  ac-  j 
cordingly  they  made  up  their  minds  to 
profess  and  maintain  the  whole  of  what 
they  only  partially  believed  and  approved, 
and  to  defend  by  falsehood  those  portions 
of  the  fortification  which  they  perceived 
were  left  open  by  truth. 

We  of  this  day  are  perhaps  not  disposed 
to  do  justice  to  many  of  the  actors  in 
those  times.  We  know  by  experience, 
that  the  reformation  did  not  lead  to  the 
universal  destruction  of  religion  ;  and  we  j 
know  that  most  of  the  confusion  and  ; 
other  evils  which  did  result,  and  of 
which  the  effects  are  not  yet  done  away, 
are  attributable  to  the  obstinacy  with 
which  the  others  persisted  in  maintain- 
ing every  abuse,  and  the  discredit  they 
brought  on  religion  in  general,  by  the 
employment  of  falsehood  and  subterfuge 
in  her  defence.  We  are  apt  to  suppose, 
therefore,  that  the  apprehensions  which 


the  event  did  not  realize,  must  have  been 
either  utterly  extravagant  and  childish,  or 
else  altogether  feigned,  by  men  who  in 
reality  had  an  interest  in  the  maintenance 
of  abuses,  and  introduced  their  fears  for 
religion  as  a  mere  pretext.  For  in  study- 
ing history,  those  portions  of  it  especially 
which  are  to  us  the  most  interesting, 
which  are  precisely  those  in  which  the 
results  are  before  our  eyes  and  familiar 
to  us  from  childhood,  this  very  circum- 
stance is  apt  to  make  us  unfair  judges  of 
the  actors,  and  thus  to  prevent  us  from 
profiting  as  we  might  by  their  examples. 
We  are  apt,  I  mean,  to  forget,  how  pro- 
bable many  things  might  appear,  which 
we  know  did  not  take  place ;  and  to  re- 
gard as  perfectly  chimerical,  expectations 
which  we  know  were  not  realized,  but 
which,  had  we  lived  in  those  times,  we 
should  doubtless  ourselves  have  enter- 
tained ;  and  to  imagine  that  there  was  no 
danger  of  those  evils  which  were  in  fact 
escaped.  We  are  apt  also  to  make  too 
little  allowance  for  prejudices  and  asso- 
ciations of  ideas,  which  no  longer  exist 
precisely  in  the  same  form,  among  our- 
selves, but  which  are  perhaps  not  more 
at  variance  with  right  reason  than  others 
with  which  ourselves  are  infected. 

From  the  earliest  down  to  the  latest 
periods  of  history,  these  causes  impede 
the  full  and  clear,  and  consequently  pro- 
fitable, view  of  the  transactions  related. 
In  respect  of  the  very  earliest  of  all  hu- 
man transactions,  it  is  matter  of  common 
remark  how  prone  many  are  to  regard 
with  mingled  wonder,  contempt,  and  in- 
dignation, the  transgression  of  our  first 
parents;  as  if  they  were  not  a  fair  sample 
of  the  human  race ; — as  if  any  of  us  would 
not,  if  he  had  been  placed  in  precisely  the 
same  circumstances,  have  acted  as  they 
did.  The  Corinthians,  probably,  had  pe- 
rused with  the  same  barren  wonder  the 
history  of  the  backslid  ings  of  the  Israel- 
ites ;  and  needed  that  Paul  should  remind 
them,  that  these  things  were  written  for 
their  example  and  admonition.  And  all, 
in  almost  every  portion  of  history  they 
read,  have  need  of  a  corresponding  warn- 
ing, to  endeavour  to  fancy  themselves  the 
persons  they  read  of,  that  they  may  re- 
cognize in  the  accounts  of  past  times  the 
portraiture  of  their  own.  It  is  by  a  strong 
effort  of  a  vivid  imagination  (a  faculty 
whose  importance  in  the  study  of  history, 
is  seldom  thought  of)  that  we  can  so  far 
transport  ourselves  in  idea  to  the  period, 
for  instance,  of  the  reformation,  or  to  any 
period  anterior  to  it,  as  to  forget  for  the 


fmo 


PIOUS    FRAUDS. 


45 


ment  all  our  actual  knowledge  of  the  (and  severe  self-examination  as  has  been 
results — to  put  ourselves  completely  in  recommended,  but  also  earnestly  and  sys- 
the  place  of  the  persons  living  in  those  |  tematically  to  put  it  in  practice,  it  may  be 
times,  and  to  enter  fully  into  all  their ;  worth  while  to  suggest  the  remark,  that 


jfeelings. 


what  may  be  suitably  called  pious  frauds, 


In  proportion  as  we  succeed  in  this  ef-  j  fall  naturally  into  the  two  classes  of  posi- 
fort,  we  shall  feel  more  and  more  strongly  j  tive  and  negative;  the  one,  the  introduc- 
how  awfully  alarming  must  have  been  the  tion  or  propagation  of  what  is  false;  the 
first  struggles  of  opposition  to  the  exist-  other,  the  mere  toleration  of  it — the  con- 
ing system — how  total  a  subversion  to  all  nivance  at  any  kind  of  mistake  or  delu- 
religion,  and  dissolution  of  all  the  ties  of  j  sion  already  existing  in  men's  minds, 
social  order,  the  first  innovations  must  j  Again,  in  another  point  of  view,  frauds 
have  appeared  to  threaten ;  and  how  little  may  be  regarded,  either  as  having  rela- 
most  men  must  have  been  able  to  foresee  it  tion,  on  the  one  hand,  to  fallacious  argu- 
or  conjecture  at  what  point  the  tendency  j  ments — to  false  reasons  for  right  conclu- 
to  change,  if  permitted  to  proceed,  could;  sions — or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  false  doc- 
be  expected  to  stop.  And  we  shall  then, ;  trine-sand  erroneous  practices,  when  such 
I  think,  cease  to  wonder,  that  the  frailty  j  are  taught  or  connived  at.  I  have  sug- 
of  our  common  nature  should  have  led  gested  both  of  these  two  divisions, as  ha v- 
conscientious  men  (conscientious,  I  mean,  j  ing  a  reference  to  practice;  because  in 
as  far  as  regards  the  goodness,  in  their !  practice  it  is  found  that  the  temptation  is 
opinion,  of  the  end  proposed)  to  use  with-  j  stronger  (because  less  alarming  to  the 
out  scruple  almost  any  means,  whether  conscience)  to  the  use  of  false  reasons 
of  force  or  fraud,  to  maintain  the  existing  and  sophistical  argument  in  the  cause  of 


system,  and   to  avert  what   appeared  to 
them  such  frightful  dangers. 

§.  5.  What  we  should  learn  for  our  own 


truth,  than  to  the  inculcation  or  toleration 
of  erroneous  doctrine ;  and  again,  that 
there  is,  for  the  same  reason,  a  stronger 


use  from  such  a  view  is,  not  that  the  dis- ,  temptation  to  negative  than  to  positive 
honest  artifices  of  Romanism  should  stand  j  fraud ;  the  conscience  being  easily  soothed 
excused  in  our  eyes,  but  that  we  should  ',  by  the  reflection,  "  this  or  that  is  a  false 
estimate  aright  their  temptations, in  order  j  notion  indeed,  but  I  did  not  introduce  it; 
the  better  to  understand  our  own — that  j  and  it  would  unsettle  men's  minds  too 
we  should  consider  human  nature  as  not  much,  were  I  to  attempt  to  undeceive 
having  been  then,  in  so  excessive  a  de-  [them." 

gree  as  we  are  apt  to  fancy,  worse  than  it  p  To  particularize  the  several  points  in 
is  now ; — and  that  we  should  condemn  !  which  we  of  the  present  day  are  espe- 
their  frauds,  not  as  employed  to  support ;  cially  open  to  temptations  of  the  descrip- 
abad  system,  and  to  avert  imaginary  evils,  j  tion  I  have  alluded  to,  would  be  a  task  of 
since  to  them,  perhaps,  the  system  appear-  [  much  difficulty  and  delicacy.  For  if  a 
ed  as  good  as  our  own  does  to  us,  and  the  !  few  cases  were  selected  and  dwelt  on, 
evils  as  real  as  any  that  we  apprehend  ap-  I  (and  more  than  a  very  few  it  would  be 
pear  in  our  eyes — but  from  the  general  impossible  to  discuss  within  any  reasona- 
expediency  of  fraud — from  its  intrinsic  ble  limits,)  some  might  suppose  that  it 
turpitude,  and  from  its  especial  unfitness  ,  was  to  these  particular  cases  the  whole 
to  be  employed  in  a  sacred  cause.  Con- 
siderations, such  as  these,  will  set  us 
upon  a  more  painful,  but  more  profitable, 
task,  than  that  of  judging  our  ancestors 


argument  had  been  directed;  and  might 
join  issue,  as  it  were,  on  the  question, 
whether  these  were  such  as  to  bear  out 
that  argument :  and  if  something  brought 


and  our  erring  brethren — the  task  of  ex-  j  forward  as  an  instance  of  an  error,  should 
amining  our  own  conduct,  with  a  watch-  chance  to  be  such,  as  by  some  was  sin- 
ful suspicion  of  the 


suspicion  of 
own  nature,  and 


corruption  of  our   cerely  believed — by  others  had  never  been 
lively  consciousness   heard  of — and  by  others  again  was  re- 


of  our  liability  to  like  temptations  with  garded  as  perfectly  insignificant — the  re- 
those  to  which  others  have  yielded.  The  I  suit  might  be,  that  the  argument  and 
erroneousness  of  their  views,  and  the  |  remarks  intended  to  be  illustrated  by  such 
soundness  of  our  own,  as  to  the  end  pro-  instances,  (if  supposed  to  rest  on  those 
posed,  does  not  lessen  to  us  the  danger,  \  instances,)  might  be  regarded  by  some  as 
or  the  evil,  of  promoting  that  end  by ,  frivolous,  or  as  unsound.  Such  at  least 
means  inconsistent  with  perfect  integrity,  is  the  mistake  which  is  not  unfrequently 
To  any  one  who  should  be  disposed  made  in  many  subjects ;  an  instance 
not  only  to  approve  of  such  a  vigilant  | brought  forward  in  illustration  of  any 


46 


PIOUS    FRAUDS. 


|  general  remarks  or  arguments,  being  not 
unfrequently  regarded  as  the  basis  on 
which  the  whole  depends.  And  yet,  if  a 
physician,  for  instance,  were  to  be  found 
mistaken  in  assigning  some  particular  dis- 
order to  this  or  that  patient,  it  would  be 
thought  strange  to  infer  from  this  that  no 
such  disorder  ever  existed. 

§.  6.  Such,  however,  being  the  difficul- 
ties in  the  present  subject,  it  will  be  better 
perhaps  to  abstain  from  any  statement  of 
matters  of  fact,  and  to  touch  briefly,  for 
illustration's  sake,  on  a  few  conceivable 
cases  ;  which,  whether  they  ever  actually 
occurred  or  not,  will  be  equally  intelligi- 
ble, and  will  equally  answer  the  purpose 

•  of  explanation. 

I.  For  example,  it  is  well  known,  that 
there  are  sects  and  other  parties  of  Chris- 
tians, of  whose  system  it  forms  a  part  to 
believe  in  immediate,  sensible  inspira- 
tion— that  the  preachers  are  directly  and 
perceptibly  moved  to  speak  by  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  utter  what  he  suggests.  Now 
suppose  any  one,  brought  up  in  these 
principles,  and  originally  perhaps  a  sin- 
cere believer  in  his  own  inspiration,  be- 
coming afterwards  so  far  sobered,  as  to 
perceive,  or  strongly  suspect,  their  delu- 
siveness, and  so  to  modify,  at  least,  his 
views  of  the  subject,  as  in  fact  to  nullify 
all  the  peculiarity  of  the  doctrine,  which 
yet  many  of  his  hearers,  he  knows,  hold 
in  its  full  extent ;  must  he  not  be  strongly 
tempted  to  keep  up  what  will  probably 
seem  to  him  so  salutary  a  delusion  ?  Such 
a  case  as  this  I  cannot  think  to  be  even 
of  rare  occurrence.  For  a  man  of  sound 

f  judgment,  and  of  a  reflective  turn,  must, 
one  would  think,  have  it  forced  on  his 
attention,  that  he  speaks  better  after  long 
practice,  than  when  a  novice — better  on 
a  subject  he  has  been  used  to  preach  on, 
than  on  a  comparatively  new  one — and 
better  with  premeditation,  than  on  a  sud- 
den ;  and  all  this,  as  is  plain  both  from 
the  nature  of  the  case,  and  from  Scripture, 

;js  inconsistent  with  inspiration.  Practice 
and  study  cannot  improve  the  immediate 
suggestions  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  the 
apostles  were  on  that  ground  expressly 
forbidden  to  "take  thought  beforehand 
what  they  should  say,  or  to  premeditate ; 
because  it  should  be  given  them  in  the 
hour  what  they  should  say."  Again,  he 
will  perhaps  see  cause  to  alter  his  views 
of  some  passages  of  Scripture  he  may 
have  referred  to,  or  in  other  points  to 
modify  some  of  the  opinions  he  may  have 
expressed  ;  and  this  again  is  inconsistent 


I  with  the  idea  of  inspiration,  at  least  on 

j  both  occasions. 

Yet  with  these  views  of  his  own  preach- 

I  ing  as  not  really  and  properly  inspired 
and  infallible,  he  is  convinced  that  he  is 
inculcating  the  great  and  important  truths 
of  Christianity — that  he  is  consequently, 
in  a  certain  sense,  under  the  guidance  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  from  whom  all  good 
things  must  proceed — and  that  his  preach- 
ing is  of  great  benefit  to  his  hearers ;  who 
yet  would  cease  to  attend  to  it,  were  he 
distinctly  to  declare  to  them  his  own  real 
sentiments.  In  such  a  case,  he  must  be 
very  strongly  tempted  to  commit  the 
pious  fraud  of  conniving  at  a  belief  which 
he  does  not  himself  sincerely  hold;  con- 
soling perhaps  his  conscience  with  the 
reflection,  that  when  he  professes  to  be 
moved  by  the  Spirit,  he  says  what  he  is 
convinced  is  true,  though  not  true  in  the 
sense  in  which  most  of  his  hearers  under- 
stand it; — not  true  in  the  sense  which 
constitutes  that  very  peculiarity  of  doc- 
trine wherein  originated  the  separation 
of  his  sect  from  other  Christians. 

II.  Again,  let  us  imagine,  for  example, 
such  an  instance  as  this;  that  an  unedu- 
cated person  describes  to  us  his  satisfac- 
tion at  having  met  with  a  stratum  of  ma- 
rine shells  on  the  top  of  a  hill,  which  he 
concludes  to  have  been  deposited  there 
by  the  Mosaic  deluge,  and  which  afford 
him  a  consolatory  proof  of  the  truth  of 
the  Old  Testament  history ;  suppose  too 
he  congratulates  himself  on  having  satis- 
fied, by  this  argument,  the  minds  of  some 
sceptics   among    his    own    class:    what 
would  be  our  duty,  and  what  would  be 
our  conduct,  in  such  a  case  ?  to  run  the 
apparent  risk  of  not  only  mortifying  his 
feelings,  but  shaking  his  faith,  by  inform- 
ing him,  (supposing  the  case  such,)  that 
it  is  fully  ascertained  that  this  deposit 
could  not  have  taken  place  by  the  action 
of  such  a  deluge  as  Moses  describes  ?  or 
to  leave  him  in  full  reliance  on  an  argu- 
ment, which,  though  unsound,  leads  him 
to  a  true  conclusion?     This,  which  is  a 
case  conceivably  occurring  in  a  Protestant 
country,  seems  to  me  an  exact  parallel  to 
a  multitude  of  those  in  which  the  Ro- 
manists practise  the  negative  pious  fraud 
of  leaving  men  under  what  they  suppose 
a  useful  delusion. 

III.  Again,  suppose  the  case  of  one  who 
should  be  warmly  attached  to  the  reli- 
gious community  of  which  we  are  mem- 
bers, in    opposition  to  sectaries,  and  a 
regular  frequenter  of  our  public  worship, 


in  consequence  of  the  mention  he  finds 
in  Scripture  of  the  church,  together  with 
the  circumstance,  that  the  building  in 
which  we  assemble  for  divine  service  is 
called  a  u  church."  No  one,  who  has 
been  much  conversant  with  the  unedu- 
cated part  of  society,  will  doubt  the  pos- 
sible existence,  at  least,  of  such  confusion 
of  thought,  though  he  may  not  have  ac- 
tually met  with  it.  Now  this  again  is  an 
instance  of  a  just  conclusion  and  right 
practice  founded  on  a  futile  reason.  Is 
it  not  conceivable,  that  some  who  would 
be  ashamed  to  employ  such  an  argument 
themselves,  might  yet  be  tempted  to  leave 
it  uncontradicted,  from  a  doubt  of  being ) 
able  to  substitute  a  sound  one,  which  ; 
should  be,  to  that  individual,  equally 
satisfactory  ? 

IV.  Again,  let  us    imagine  a  case  of 
some  one  desirous  to  receive,  and  induce 
others  to  receive,  the  rite  of  confirmation, 
from  supposing  it  alluded  to,  and  enjoined, 
in   the  passage   of  Scripture  which    de- 
scribes an  apostle  as  going  through  a  cer- 
tain region  "  confirming    the  churches" 
(Ivfc-Tng^a*) ;  should  we  venture  to  at- 
tempt removing  his  conviction  from  this 
false  basis,  and  replacing  it  on  a  sound 
one  ? 

V.  Suppose,  again,  that  some  one  was 
conscientiously  desirous  of  receiving  this 
rite,  whom  the  minister  could  not  bring  I 
to  comprehend  the  nature  of  it,  or  to  un-  j 
derstand    any    thing    of    the    baptismal  j 
covenant  which  is  renewed  before  the  j 
Christian  congregation,  and  recalled  by  it,  j 
might  there   not,  in   such  a  case,  be  a  ( 
seeming  danger ;  that  if  under  such  cir-  j 
cumstances   he  refused  to  sign  a  recom-  j 
mendation   to   the   bishop,  there   might 
grow  up  a  neglect  of  the  ordinance  of 
confirmation  ?  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
he  would  know  that  his  signature  would 
be  understood  to  testify  the  existence  of 
such  fitness  on  the  part  of  the  candidate 
as  in  fact  was  wanting ;  and  that  conse- 
quently he  would  be  virtually  setting  his 
hand  to  a  falsehood ;  and  would,  more- 
over, be  encouraging   that  superstitious 
notion  of  some  mystical  virtue  in  a  rite 
of  which  the  recipient  did  not  understand 
the  meaning.     Now  such  a  case  as  this, 
I  think,  will  hardly  be  considered  as  in- 
conceivable, or  even  improbable. 

VI.  Suppose,  again,  an  individual   of 
the  same  class  to  have  a  deep  reverence  I 
for  the  Lord's  day,  without  even  know- 
ing that  it  is  the  Lord's  day,  but  from 
supposing  Sunday  to  be  the  seventh  day 
of  the  week,  and  to  be  kept  holy  not  with 


PIOUS  FRAUDS.  47 

any  reference  to  our  Lord's  resurrection, 
but  solely  in  memory  of  the  close  of  the 
creation :  there  would  be,  on  the  one 
hand,  the  apparent  danger  of  unsettling 
his  mind,  and  diminishing  his  just  rever- 
ence, by  letting  him  know  that  it  is  the 
first  day  of  the  week,  and  is  commemo- 
rative of  the  resurrection;  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  would  be  the  negative 
pious  fraud  of  leaving  his  mistake  un- 
touched. "  Will  ye,"  says  Job,  "  speak 
wickedly  for  God,  and  talk  deceitfully 
for  him  ?" 

VII.  If,  again,  we  should  meet  with  a 
case  of  Christians  having  a  deep  reverence 
for   all  the  rites  and    circumstances   of 
Christian  burial,  founded  on  a  persuasion 
that  the  souls  of  those  whose  bodies  are 
interred  in  consecrated  ground,  after  the 
performance  of  the  funeral  service,  are  in 
a  more  safe  state  than  they  would  other- 
wise have  been,*  might  not  a  danger  be 
apprehended,  of  impairing  their  respect 
for  the  ministers  of  religion  and  the  ser- 
vices of  the  church,  by  inculcating  the 
groundlessness  of  that  persuasion  ?     And 
might  not  therefore  a  minister  be  tempted, 
in  such  a  case,  to  leave  undisturbed  an 
error  which  he  could  not  charge  himself 
with  having  directly  introduced  ? 

VIII.  Once  more;  imagine  the  case  of  a 
man  long  hardened  in  irreligious  careless- 
ness or  gross  vices,  conscience-stricken  on 
his  death-bed,  professing  sincere  repent- 
ance, and  earnestly  wishing  for,  and  seem- 
ing to  implore,  a  positive  assurance  from 
the  minister  of  his  acceptance  with  God, 
and   his  eternal  happiness   in   the   next 
world; — a  wish    in   which  the  relatives 
and  friends  around  him  should  strongly 
join:  and  suppose  the  minister  to  be  one 
who  could  not  satisfy  his  own  mind  that 
he   had   any  authority  in   Scripture   for 
speaking  positively  in  such  a  case ;  would 
he  not  be  exposed  to  a  temptation  of 
feigning  a  confidence  he  did  not  feel,  for 
the  sake  of  smoothing  the  death-bed  of 
one  for  whom  nothing  else  could  be  done, 
and  administering  comfort  to  the  afflicted 
survivors  ? 

And  if  a  person  so  situated  were  anxious 
to  receive  the  Eucharist,  though  he  were 
(suppose)  from  ignorance  respecting  reli- 
gion, and  long  continuance  in  careless  or 
depraved  habits,  combined  with  the  dis- 
tractions of  bodily  pain,  and  the  feeble- 
ness of  mind  resulting  from  disease,  utterly 
incapable  of  being  made  to  understand  the 
nature  of  Christian  repentance,  or  the  doc- 

*  See  Chap.  I. 


48 


PIOUS  FRAUDS. 


trine  of  Christian  redemption,  or  the  right 
use  of  that  sacrament  which  he  craved 
for  as  a  kind  of  magical  charm;  (with 
the  same  kind  of  superstitious  confidence 
which  the  Papists  place  in  their  extreme 
unction;)  would  not  the  minister  be 
tempted  to  shut  his  eyes  to  the  unfitness 
of  such  a  candidate — to  the  consequent 
nullity  of  the  ordinance,  as  far  as  that  re- 
cipient is  concerned — and  to  the  profana- 
tion of  so  celebrating  it?  And  if,  more- 
over, we  suppose  some  fanatical  teacher 
to  be  at  hand  ready  to  make  confident 
promises  of  salvation  if  we  speak  doubt- 
fully, and  to  administer  the  sacred  ordi- 
nance if  we  withhold  it — and  that  he 
would  in  that  case  win  many  converts, 
while  we  should  incur  odium,  as  wanting 
in  charity  ;  we  must  admit  that,  in  such  a 
case  as  here  supposed,  the  temptation 
would  be  very  strong,  to  any  but  a  de- 
voted lover  of  truth,  to  connive  at  error, 
as  the  less  of  the  evils  before  him.  And 
the  temptation  would  be  much  the  stronger 
both  in  this  and  in  the  other  supposed 
cases,  if  we  imagine  them  presented  to  a 
person  who  (as  might  easily  be  the  case) 
had  no  distinct  perception  of  the  ultimate 
dangers  of  deceit — of  the  crowd  of  errors 
likely  to  spring  from  one — the  necessity 
of  supporting  hereafter  one  falsehood  by 
another,  to  infinity — and  the  liability  to 
bring  truth  into  discredit  by  blending  it 
with  the  untrue;  dangers  which  are  re- 
cognized in  the  popular  wisdom  of  appro- 
priate proverbs.  These  ill  consequences 
may  very  easily  be  overlooked  in  each 
particular  instance:  for  though  it  is  a  just 
maxim  that  falsehood  is  inexpedient  in 
the  long  run,  it  is  a  maxim  which  it  re- 
quires no  small  experience  and  reach  of 
thought  fully  and  practically  to  compre- 
hend, and  readily  to  apply:  the  only  safe 
guide, for  the  great  mass  of  mankind  is 
the  abhorrence  of  falsehood  for  its  own 
sake,  without  looking  to  its  consequences. 
Numberless  other  like  instances  might 
be  imagined,  of  at  least  conceivable  oc- 
currence in  a  Protestant  country;  but 
those  which  have  been  mentioned  will  be 
sufficient,  if  they  are  admitted  to  be  not, 
all  of  them,  total  impossibilities,  to  illus- 
trate my  meaning; — to  show  that  our  se- 
paration from  the  church  of  Rome  does 
not  place  us  (nor  can  we  ever  be  placed 
in  this  life)  in  a  situation  which  exempts 
us  from  all  danger  of  falling  into  corrup- 
tions— among  the  rest,  the  justification 
of  pious  frauds — substantially  similar  to 
those  with  which  that  church  is  so  justly 
reproached. 


ij      As  for  the  cases  introduced  for  the  sake 
|  of  illustration,  I  must  once  more  protest 
that  they  do  not  profess  to  be  actual  facts, 
but  merely  conceivable  suppositions;  and 
it  is  not  at  all  my  wish  that   any  one 
'  should,  by  testifying  displeasu re,  as  against 
a  personal  charge,  fix  on  himself  the  cen- 
sure brought  against  a  hypothetical  case. 
Indeed  I  would  most  gladly  be  convinced 
that  these  and  all  similar  suppositions  are 
not  only  not  agreeable   to  fact,  but   are 
even  impossible,  and  the  dangers  I  appre- 
hend wholly  imaginary.     If  this  be  so, 
Why  then,  my  taxing,  like  a  wild-goose,  flies 
Unclaimed  of  any  man. 

and  my  warnings  will  be  at  least  harm- 
less, though  unnecessary  :  "  abundans 
jcautela  non  nocet." 

§.  7.  I  will  conclude  this  chapter  with 
an  earnest  recommendation  of  the  study 
I  (with  a  view  to  our  own  warning  and  in- 
struction) of  the  various  abuses  prevailing 
in  the  Romish  church — such  a  study,  1 
mean,  as  shall  go,  not  only  to  ascertain 
their  actual  character,  but  also   to   trace 
their  gradual  progress  from  their  first  ap- 
pearance, till  they  became  at  length  em- 
;  bodied  in  the  system,  and  established  as 
parts  of  true  religion.     In  many,  if  not  in 
most  instances,  they  began   (as   I  have 
formerly  observed)  with  the  people ;  and 
were  at  first,  many  of  them,  only  connived 
at  by  the  clergy;  who  dreaded  to  oppose, 
or  to  reform,  or  to  acknowledge,  errors, 
lest  they  should  shake  the  whole  system 
of  faith  with  which  they  were  connected. 
I  And  let  it  not  be  lost  sight  of,  that  the 
I  fraud  by  which  they  sought  to  support 
I  the    system — the    "  wall    daubed     with 
!  untempered    mortar,"    with    which   they 
j  thought  to  buttress  up  the  edifice — has 
•  always  tended  to  its  decay.     Not  only 
did  it  give   rise  to  a  hostile    separation 
among  Christian  churches,  but  in  coun- 
tries which   have    continued   under   the 
I  papal  sway,  the  abhorrence  and  contempt 
|  excited  by  the  detection  of  a  fraudulent 
I  system  has  led  the  far  greater  part  of  the 
educated  classes  into  secret  but  total  apos- 
tasy from  Christ.  With  the  indiscriminate 
rashness  which  is  universally  so  common, 
they  have  confusedly  blended  together  in 
their  minds,  Christianity  and  its  corrup- 
tions ;  and  having  in  so  many  instances 
detected   fraud  with   absolute    certainty, 
they  think  it  not  worth  while  to  inquire 
further;  but  take  for  granted,  that  all  the 
church  teaches,  is  one  tissue  of  imposture 
and  superstition  throughout. 

Let  not  Protestants,  then,  lose  the  bene- 
fit of  this  lesson;  "neither  let  us  tempt 


UNDUE   RELIANCE  ON  HUMAN  AUTHORITY.  49 

God,  as  some  of  them  also  tempted;"  for  I  but  so  read  them)  "for  our  admonition. 
"  all  these  things  happened  unto  them  for  i  Wherefore  let  him  that  thinketh  he 
examples,  and  are  written"  (if  we  will  \  standeth,  take  heed  lest  he  fall." 


CHAP.  IV. 
UNDUE  RELIANCE  ON   HUMAN  AUTHORITY. 


§.  1.  THE  infallibility  of  the  (so  called) 
Catholic  church,  and  the  substitution  of 
the  decrees  of  popes  or  of  pretended  ge- 
neral councils,  for  the  Scriptures,  as  the 
Christian's  rule  of  faith  and  practice,  is 
commonly  regarded  as  the  foundation  of 
the  whole  Romish  system.  And  it  is  so, 
in  this  sense,  that  if  it  be  once  admitted, 
all  the  rest  must  follow  :  if  the  power  of 
"  binding  and  loosing"  belong  to  the 
church  of  Rome  in  the  extent  claimed  by 
her,  we  have  only  to  ascertain  what  are 
her  decisions,  and  to  comply  with  them 
implicitly. 

But  I  am  convinced  that  this  is  not  the 
foundation,  historically  considered,  of  the 
Romish  system ; — that  the  Romish  hier- 
archy did  not,  in  point  of  fact,  first  es- 
tablish their  supremacy  on  a  perverted 
interpretation  of  certain  texts,  and  then 
employ  the  power  thus  acquired  to  intro- 
duce abuses:  but  resorted,  as  occasions 
led  them,  to  such  passages  of  Scripture  as 
might  be  wrested  to  justify  the  prevailing 
or  growing  abuses,  and  to  buttress  up  the 
edifice  already  in  a  great  measure  reared. 

They  appeal,  as  is  well  known,  to  our 
Lord's  expression  respecting  Peter's  being 
made  the  foundation  of  his  church;  an 
expression  which  could  never  by  possi- 
bility have  suggested  so  extravagant,  and 
indeed  unmeaning,  an  interpretation  as 
that  of  a  succession  of  men  being  each  a 
foundation;*  and  they  also  appeal  to  the 
declaration,"!" "  Whatsoever  thou  shalt  bind 
on  earth  shall  be  bound  in  heaven,  and 
whatsoever  thou  shalt  loose  on  earth 
shall  be  loosed  in  heaven,"  as  conferring 
on  the  church  of  Rome  the  supreme 
power  she  claims.  Of  this  and  the  other 
corresponding  passages  in  our  Lord's  dis- 
courses, the  most  probable  explanation  is 
that  which  refers  to  the  language  common 
among  the  Jewish  doctors ;  who  em- 
ployed the  expressions  "  to  bind,"  and  "  to 
loose,"  (as  may  be  seen  abundantly  in 
their  works  respecting  traditional  regula- 
tions now  extantj)  in  the  sense  of  enact- 


*  Hinds'  History  of  the  Rise  of  Christianity, 
vol.  i.  p.  9. 

f  Matt.  xvi.  19.      %  See  Wotton  on  the  Misna. 
7 


ing  and  abrogating; — establishing  any 
rule  or  ordinance,  so  as  to  make  it  obli- 
gatory or  binding — or,  on  the  other,  abo- 
lishing, or  forbearing  to  enact  some 
rule,  and  leaving  men  exempt — released — 
loosed — from  the  observance  of  it.  Our 
Lord's  declaration,  therefore,  will  amount 
to  this ; — that  the  governors  in  each 
branch  of  the  church  which  he  founded 
— of  the  kingdom  appointed  to  his  disci- 
ples— with  whom,  and  consequently  with 
their  successors,  he  promised  to  be  al- 
ways even  unto  the  end  of  the  world — 
that  these  governors  should  have  power 
to  make  regulations  for  the  good  govern- 
ment of  that  society — to  admit  or  refuse 
admission  into  it — and  to  establish  such 
rules  as  they  might  think  suitable  for  the 
edification  of  its  members,  and  their  deco- 
rous worship  of  God:  and  that  such  re- 
gulations of  Christ's  servants  on  earth 
should  be  ratified  and  sanctioned  by  the 
authority  of  their  unseen  and  spiritual 
Master — should  be  bound  in  heaven  by 
him. 

It  seems  no  less  plain,  that  to  the  go- 
vernors of  every  society  must  be  entrusted 
the  duty  of  checking  such  disorderly  and 
scandalous  conduct  in  its  members,  as 
goes  to  interfere  with  the  purposes  of  its 
institution,  by  reprimand  or  other  pe- 
nalties, and  ultimately,  in  extreme  cases, 
by  expulsion :  and  they  must  be  em- 
powered to  remit  such  penalties,  or  tore- 
admit  an  expelled  member,  on  his  testify- 
ing contrition,  and  making  satisfactory 
promises  of  good  behaviour.  And  this 
is  admitted  by  most  Protestants  to  be  the 
force  of  that  declaration,  "  whose  soever 
sins  ye  remit,  they  are  remitted,  and 
whose  soever  sins  ye  retain,  they  are  re- 
tained :"  not  as  if  fallible  men  had  power 
to  judge  of  the  sincerity  of  any  one's 
contrition  ; — or  even  if  they  had,  could 
presume  to  claim  the  divine  privilege  of 
forgiving  sins  as  against  God  ! — but  that 
they  have  power  to  inflict  or  remit  the 
penalties  of  church  censure,  and  to  ex- 
clude, retain,  or  readmit,  as  far  as  outward 
privileges  are  concerned,  any  member  of 
their  own  branch  of  the  visible  church. 
As  for  the  regulations  respecting  the 


50  UNDUE  RELIANCE  ON  HUiMAN  AUTHORITY. 

conductof  members  of  that  society,  which  Itice  is  to  be  found  in  those  arguments  or 
they  have  power  to  enact  or  abrogate,  it  is  texts  which  are  urged  in  support  of 
obvious  that,  as  far  as  these  extend  only  it ; — that  they  furnish  the  cause,  on  the 
to  things  in  themselves  indifferent,  (such  removal  of  which  the  effects  will  cease  of 


as  festival  days,  outward  ceremonies,  and 
the  like)  which  may  and  should  vary  in 
different  ages  and  countries,  but  yet  require  '  rightly  explained,  all  danger  is  at  end  of 


course — and  that  when   once  those  rea- 
sonings   are    exploded,  and   those    texts 


to  be  in  each  instance  regulated  by  some 
acknowledged  authority — as  far,  I  say,  as 
this  exercise  of  power  is  confined  to  mat- 


falling  into  similar  errors.  The  fact  is,  that 
in  a  great  number  of  instances,  and  by  no 
means  exclusively  in  questions  connected 


ters  not  in  themselves  essential,  it  may  be    with  religion,  the  erroneous  belief  orprac- 
(and  must  be,  supposing  inspiration  with-    tice  has  arisen  first,  and  the  theory  has  been 
drawn)  entrusted  to  uninspired  men.  But 
on  the  other  hand,  the  promulgating  of 


such  articles  of  faith  and  rules  of  con- 
duct as  are  intrinsically  necessary,  and 
make  part  of  the  terms  of  salvation — that 
this  office — the  binding  and  loosing  in  re- 
spect of  things  essential — can  be  left  in  the 


derived  afterwards  for  its  support.  In 
whatever  opinions  or  conduct  men  are  led 
by  any  human  propensities,  they  seek  to 
defend  and  justify  these  by  the  best  argu- 
ments they  can  devise ;  and  then,  assign- 
ing, as  they  often  do,  in  perfect  sincerity, 
these  arguments  as  the  cause  of  their 


hands  of  none  but  inspired  men,  all  must  adopting  such  notions,  they  misdirect  the 
allow ;  and  we  should  add,  in  the  hands  course  of  our  inquiry.  And  thus  the 
of  men  who  (like  the  apostles)  give  proof  i  chance  (however  small  it  may  be  at  any 
of  their  inspiration,  and  produce  the  cre- 
dentials of  their  divine  commission  by 
working  sensible  miracles. 
_  §.  2.  Whatever  slight  differences,  how- 
ever, there  may  be  among  Protestants  as 
to  the  precise  sense  of  these  passages,  and 
of  all  that  our  Lord  has  said  on  the  sub- 
ject, they  all  agree  in  this;  that  it  will  by 


rate)  of  rectifying  their  errors,  is  dimi- 
nished. For  if  these  be  in  reality  tracea- 
ble to  some  deep-seated  principle  of  our 
nature,  as  soon  as  ever  one  false  founda- 
tion on  which  they  have  been  placed  is 
removed,  another  will  be  substituted  :  as 
soon  as  one  theory  is  proved  untenable,  a 
new  one  will  be  devised  in  its  place.  And 


no  means  bear  the  interpretation  put  on  it !  in  the  mean  time,  we  ourselves  are  liable 
by  the  Romanists;  who  are  commonly  i  to  be  lulled  into  a  false  security  against 
supposed,  as  has  been  above  remarked,  to  j  errors,  whose  real  origin  is  to  be  sought  in 
derive  from  their  mistaken  view  of  our  Uhe  universal  propensities  of  human  nature. 
Lord's  expressions  in  this  place,  the  mon-  |  Not  only  Romanism,  but  almost  every 
strous  doctrines  of  the  universal  supre- !  system  of  superstition,  in  order  to  be 
macy  of  the  church  of  Rome,  and  her  j  rightly  understood,  should  be  (if  I  may 
infallibility  as  to  matters  of  faith.  I  have  j  so  speak)  read  backwards.  To  take  an 
said  that  these  doctrines  are  supposed  to  j  instance,  in  illustration  of  what  has  been 
be  thus  derived,  because  there  is  good  rea-  said,  from  the  mythological  system  of  the 
son  to  think  that  such  is  not  really  the  ancients;  if  we  inquire  why  the  rites  of 
iCase;  and  that  in  this  point,  as  in  most  |  sepulture  were  regarded  by  them  as  of 
of  those  connected  with  the  peculiarities  !  such  vast  importance,  we  are  told  that,  ac- 
of  Romanism,  the  mistake  is  usually  cording  to  their  system  of  religious  be- 
committed  of  confounding  cause  and  ef-  lief,  the  souls  of  those  whose  bodies  were 
feet.  When  there  is  any  question  about  unburied,  were  doomed  to  wander  dis- 
any  of  the  doctrines  or  practices  which  consolate  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Styx, 
characterize  that  church,  it  is  natural,  and  |  Such  a  tenet,  supposing  it  previously  es- 
tablished, was  undoubtedly  well  calcu- 


li is  common,  to  inquire  on  what  rational 
arguments  or  on  what  scriptural  author- 
ity these  are  made  to  rest ;  the  reasons 
adduced  are  examined,  and,  if  found  in- 
sufficient, the  point  is  considered  as  set- 
tled :  and  so  it  is,  as  far  as  regards  those 
particular  doctrines  or  practices,  when 
judged  of  by  an  intelligent  and  unbiassed 
inquirer.  That  which  is  indefensible, 
ought  certainly  to  be  abandoned.  But  it 
is  a  mistake,  and  a  very  common,  and 
practically  not  unimportant  one,  to  con- 
clude that  the  origin  of  each  tenet  or  prac- 


lated  to  produce  or  increase  the  feeling 
in  question  :  but  is  it  not  much  the  more 
probable  supposition,  that  the  natural 
anxiety  about  our  mortal  remains,  which 
has  been  felt  in  every  age  arid  country, 
and  which  those  who  partake  of  it  are  at 
a  loss  to  explain  and  justify,  drove  them 
to  imagine  and  adopt  the  theory  which 
gave  a  rational  appearance  to  feelings  and 
practices  already  existing  ? 

Again,  if  the  Romanists  are  urged  to  de- 
fend and  explain  their  practice  of  praying 


UNDUE  RELIANCE  ON  HUMAN  AUTHORITY. 


51 


for  the  souls  departed,  they  refer  us  to  the 
doctrines  of  their  church  respecting  pur- 
gatory. But  it  is  not  really  the  doctrine 
of  purgatory  which  led  to  prayers  for  the 
dead  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  doubtless  the 
practice  of  praying-  for  the  dead  that  gave 
rise  to  that  doctrine;  a  doctrine  which 
manifestly  savours  of  having  been  invented 
to  serve  a  purpose.  Accordingly  it  never, 
I  believe,  found  its  way  into  the  Greek 
church,  though  prayers  for  the  dead 
(difficult  as  it  is  to  justify  such  a  practice 
on  other  grounds)  has  long  prevailed  in 
that  church,  no  less  than  in  the  Romish. 
If,  again,  we  call  on  the  Romanists  to 
justify  their  invocation  of  saints,  which 
seems  to  confer  on  these  the  divine  attri- 
bute of  omnipresence,  they  tell  us  that 
the  Almighty  miraculously  reveals  to  the 
glorified  saints  in  heaven  the  prayers  ad- 
dressed to  them,  and  then  listens  to  their 
intercession  in  behalf  of  the  supplicants. 
But  the  real  state  of  the  case  doubtless  is, 
that  the  practice  which  began  gradually 
in  popular  superstition,  and  was  fostered 
and  sanctioned  by  the  mingled  weakness 
and  corruption  of  the  priesthood,  was 
afterwards  supported  by  a  theory  too  un- 
founded and  too  extravagantly  absurd  to 
have  ever  obtained  a  general  reception, 
had  it  not  come  in  aid  of  a  practice  al- 
ready established,  and  which  could  be 
defended  on  no  better  grounds. 

|T  And  the  same  principle  will  apply  to 
the  greater  part  of  the  Romish  errors ; 
the  cause  assigned  for  each  of  them  will 
in  general  be  found  to  be  in  reality  its 
effect ; — the  arguments  by  which  it  is 
supported — to  have  gained  currency  from 
men's  partiality  for  the  conclusion.  It  is 
thus  that  we  must  explain,  what  is  at  first 
sight  so  great  a  paradox,  the  vast  differ- 
ence of  effect  apparently  produced  in 
minds  of  no  contemptible  powers,  by  the 

|  same  arguments  ; — the  frequent  inefncacy 
of  the  most  cogent  reasonings,  and  the 
hearty  satisfaction  with  which  the  most 
futile  are  often  listened  to  and  adopted. 
Nothing  is,  in  general,  easier  than  to  con- 
vince one  who  is  prepared  and  desirous  to 
be  convinced ;  or  to  gain  any  one's  full  ap- 
probation of  arguments  tending  to  a  con- 
clusion he  has  already  adopted ;  or  to 
refute  triumphantly  in  his  eyes,  any  ob- 
jections brought  against  what  he  is  un- 
willing to  doubt.  An  argument  which 
shall  have  made  one  convert,  or  even 
settled  one  really  doubting  mind,  though 
it  is  not  of  course  necessarily  a  sound  ar- 
gument, will  have  accomplished  more  than 

!  one  which  receives  the  unhesitating  assent 


j,and  loud  applause  of  thousands  who  had 
'already  embraced,  or  were  predisposed  to 
,  embrace,  the  conclusion. 

I  am  aware  that  there  is  in  some  minds 
an  opposite  tendency,  to  excessive  doubt 
in  cases  where  their  wishes  are  strong ; 
a  morbid  distrust  of  evidence  which  they 
are  especially  anxious  to  find  conclusive. 
|  Different  temperaments  (sometimes  vary- 
!  ing  with  the  state  of  health  of  each  indivi- 
dual) lead    towards  these  contrary  mis- 
calculations.    Each  of  us  probably  has  a 

•  natural  leaning  to  one  or  other  (often  to 
|  both,  alternately)  of  these  infirmities — the 

over-estimate    or   under-estimate   of  the 
I  reasons  in  favour  of  a  conclusion  we  wish 
j  to  find  true.     The  difficulty  is,  not  to  fly 
from   one  extreme  to   the  other,  but  to 
:  avoid  both,  and  to  give  an  unbiassed  ver- 
dict according  to  the  evidence ;  preserving 
the  indifference  of  the  judgment  even  in 
cases  where  the  will  cannot,  and  indeed 
!  should  not  be  indifferent. 

Obvious,  however,  as  these  principles 
must  appear,  it  is  not  at  all  uncommon  to 

•  lose  sight  of  them ;  it  is  not  uncommon 
|  to  hear  wonder  expressed  at  the  supposed 
|  weakness  of  understanding  of  those  who 
i  assent  to  arguments  utterly  invalid,  but  to 
j  which  they  have  in   fact  never   applied 

their  minds.     And  it  is  much  more  com- 
mon to  hear  some  course  of  argument 
I  confidently  proclaimed  as  triumphant  and 
decisive  in  establishing  or  refuting  some 

I  doctrine,  merely   on    the   ground  of  its 
|  being  approved  by  those  predisposed  to 
i  assent  to  it.     Whether,  in  fact,  it  be  such 

or  not,  it  is  impossible  we  can  fully  esti- 
!  mate  its  weight  till  we  have  seen  it  tried 
!  in  an  even  balance,  or  against  a  preponde- 
!  rating  scale  ; — till  we  have  seen  how  it  is 

received  by  the  indifferent,  or  the  adverse. 
i  For,  through  the  operation  of  the  principle 

I 1  have  been  speaking  of,  arguments  have 
;  commanded  the  unhesitating  assent  of  all 
imen,  for  centuries  together,  without  pos- 
[sessing,  in  reality,  any  weight  at  all. 

§.  3.  It  is,  on  many  accounts,  of  great 

!  practical  importance  to  trace,  as  far  as  we 

i  are  able,  each  error  to  its  real  source.    If, 

'for  instance,  we  supposed  the  doctrine  of 

transubstantiation  to  be  really  founded,  as 

the  Romanists  pretend,  and  as,  no  doubt, 

many  of  them  sincerely  believe,  on  the 

words  "  this  is  my  body,"  we  might  set 

this  down  as  an  instance  in  which  the 

language  of  Scripture  rashly  interpreted 

has  led  to  error.     Doubtless   there  are 

such  instances ;  but  I  can  never  believe 

that  this  is  one  of  them;  viz.,  that  men 

really  were  led  by  the  words  in  question 


UNDUE  RELIANCE  ON  HUMAN  AUTHORITY. 


to  believe  in  transubstantiation ;  for  be- 
sides the  intrinsic  improbability  of  such 
an  error  having  so  arisen,  we  have  the 
additional  proof,  that  the  passage  was 
before  the  eyes  of  the  whole  Christian 
world  for  ten  centuries  before  the  doctrine 
was  thought  of.  And  again,  if  we  suppose 
the  doctrine  to  have,  in  fact,  arisen  from 
the  misinterpretation  of  the  text,  we  shall 
expect  to  remove  the  error  by  showing 
reasons  whereby  the  passage  should  be 
understood  differently  :  a  very  reasonable 
expectation,  where  the  doctrine  has  sprung 
from  the  misinterpretation;  but  quite 
otherwise,  where,  as  in  this  case,  the  mis- 
interpretation has  sprung  from  the  doc- 
trine. When  there  was  a  leaning  in  men's 
minds  towards  the  reception  of  the  tenet, 
they  of  course  looked  for  the  best  con- 
firmation of  it  that  Scripture  would  afford. 

There  is  no  instance,  however,  that 
better  exemplifies  the  operation  of  this 
principle,  than  the  one  immediately  before 
us — the  Romish  doctrines  of  the  universal 
supremacy  and  infallibility  of  their  church. 
If  we  inquire  how  the  Romanists  came  so 
strangely  to  mistake  the  passages  of  Scrip- 
ture to  which  they  appeal,  we  shall  be 
utterly  bewildered  in  conjecture,  unless 
we  read  backwards  the  lesson  imprinted 
on  their  minds,  and  seek  for  the  true  cause 
in  the  natural  predisposition  to  look  out 
for,  and  implicitly  trust,  an  infallible 
guide,  and  to  find  a  refuge  from  doubts 
and  dissensions,  in  the  unquestioned  and 
unlimited  authority  of  the  church.  This 
indeed  had  been  gradually  established, 
and  vested  in  the  Romish  see,  before  it 
was  distinctly  claimed.  Men  did  not 
submit  to  the  authority,  because  they  were 
convinced  it  was  of  divine  origin  and  in- 
fallible ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  they  were 
convinced  of  this,  because  they  were  dis- 
posed so  to  submit.  The  tendency  to 
"  teach  for  doctrines  the  commandments 
of  men,"  and  to  acquiesce  in  such  teach- 
ing, is  not  the  effect,  but  the  cause,  of  their 
being  taken  for  the  commandments  of  God. 

Unwilling  as  men  may  be  to  submit 
their  actions  to  an  uncontrolled  despotism, 
that  indolence  of  mind  which  the  Greek 
historian  remarks  as  making  them  "  averse 
to  take  trouble  in  the  investigation  of 
truth,  and  willing  rather  to  acquiesce  in 
what  is  ready-decided  for  them,"  has,  in 
all  ages,  and  on  all  subjects,  disposed  j 
multitudes  to  save  themselves  this  trouble, 
and  escape  at  the  same  time  the  uneasi- 
ness of  doubting,  by  an  implicit  submis- 
sion to  some  revered  authority.  The 
disposition  indeed  to  submit  and  assent 


implicitly  is  (like  all  our  other  natural 
propensities)  nothing  intrinsically  and  es- 
sentially bad,  when  rightly  directed,  and 
duly  controlled ;  but,  like  all  the  rest,  is 
liable  to  misdirection  and  excess.  What- 
ever is  satisfactorily  proved  to  come  from 
God  is  entitled  to  our  submissive  assent ; 
and  whatever  there  is  of  what  He  has  re- 
vealed to  us,  that  surpasses  human  com- 
prehension, has  a  claim  to  be  received  on 
his  authority  alone,  without  vain  attempts 
to  explain  or  to  prove  it  "  a  priori."  That 
the  implicit  deference  justly  due  to  Divine 
authority,  should  have  been  often  unduly 
extended  to  human,  is  what  we  might, from 
the  infirmity  of  our  nature,  have  even  ante- 
cedently conjectured  ;  and  no  one  can  sup- 
pose that  this  misdirected  and  excessive 
veneration  originated  in  the  church  of 
Rome,  or  is  even  confined  to  the  case  of 
religion,  who  recollects  that  the  decisive 
appeal  of  the  Pythagoreans  to  the  u  ipse 
dixit"  of  their  master  was  even  proverbial 
among  the  ancients :  and  that  at  a  later 
period,  the  authority  of  Aristotle  on  philo- 
sophical questions  was  for  many  ages  re- 
garded as  no  less  decisive.  To  question 
his  decisions  on  these  matters  was  long 
considered  as  indicating  no  less  presump- 
tuous rashness,  than  to  dispute  those  of 
the  church  of  Rome  as  to  matters  of  faith. 
§.  4.  As  for  the  local  extent  of  the 
Roman  pontiff's  jurisdiction,  the  claim  of 
universal  supremacy  for  that  particular 
see  is  of  course  an  error  of  the  Romanists 
as  Romanists;  for  though  the  same  en- 
croaching and  ambitious  disposition  may 
exist  in  others  as  in  the  Romish  hier- 
archy, it  must  of  course,  wherever  it 
exists,  lead  each  to  extend  the  dominion 
and  exalt  the  power,  of  his  own  church, 
state,  empire,  or  school,  over  others. 
But  the  tendency  to  claim  or  to  pay  un- 
due deference  to  the  authority  of  unin- 
spired men,  is  an  error  of  the  Roman- 
ists, not  as  Romanists,  but  as  human 
beings.  The  degree  of  respect  generally 
paid  and  justly  due  to  the  authority*  of 
the  wise — the  virtuous — the  learned — the 
majority — which  amounts  to  a  presump- 
tion, more  or  less  strong,  of  what  they 
have  maintained — a  presumption  which 
demands  a  careful  examination  of  the  rea- 
sons on  both  sides,  before  we  decide 
against  them — this  respect  was  gradually 
heightened  into  a  blind  acquiescence, 
which  forbade  men  even  to  seek  for  rea- 
sons at  all.  The  morbid  dread  of  uncer- 


*  An  important  ambiguity  in  the  word  authority 
will  be  presently  noticed. 


UNDUE  RELIANCE  ON  HUMAN  AUTHORITY. 


53 


perplexity,  and  dissension,  led 
to  preclude  all  doubts  as  to  the 
nse  of  Scripture,  by  a  decisive  authority  ; 
authority  which  they  pretend  to  rest  on 
a  text  whose  sense  is  in  itself  doubtfu4  ;* 
and  thus  to  save,  as  it  were,  the  ship  from 
being  tossed  by  winds  and  waves,  by 
casting  anchor  on  an  object  which  was 
itself  floating.  But  they  succeeded  in 
delivering  themselves  from  actual  doubt, 
though  not  from  reasons  for  doubt ;  and 


consistent — perhaps  I  may  say  more  ho- 
nest— than  the  sort  of  appeal  which  is 
sometimes  made  Protestants  to  the  au- 
thority of  the  "  universal  church,"  and 
which  may  be  characterized  by  the  homely 
though  expressive  proverbial  metaphor,  of 
"  playing  fast  and  loose."  A  person  is 
loudly  censured  perhaps  for  taking  a  dif- 
ferent view  of  some  doctrine  from  that 
which,  it  is  assumed,  prevailed  generally 
in  the  church  (i.  e.  the  great  mass  of 


were  lulled  into  that  apathetic  tranquillity,  j  Christians)  for  many  ages  ;  the  writers, 
which  is  the  natural  result  of  compulsory  !  termed  "  the  Fathers,"  are  appealed  to; 
cessation  of  discussion.  "  Seeing  then !  and  it  is  represented  as  inconceivable, 
that  these  things  cannot  be  spoken  against,  that  the  great  body  of  the  Christian  world 
ye  ought  to  be  quiet,"  is  an  expression  should  have  long  been  in  error  on  such 
which  may  be  used  to  characterize  this  and  such  a  point.  ^  And,  no  doubt,  there 
indolent  uninquiring  acquiescence.  They  \  is  a  presumption*  in  favour  of  what  has 
were  to  receive  whatever  the  holy  Catholic  jjbeen  long  admitted  by  the  majority; 
church  decreed,  or  might  decree,  to  be  'stronger  arguments  are  called  for  against 
received  ;  even  though  ignorant  of  what  I  it,  than  if  it  were  something  novel,  or  the 
many  of  the  doctrines  were,  to  which  opinion  only  of  a  few.  But  when  this 
they  thus  assented.  j  presumption  is  adduced  as  nearly  deci- 

"  Is  it  conceivable,"  they  thought,  "that ;  sive,<and  it  is  then  urged,  on  the  other 
the  great  body  of  the  church,  including ;  side,  as  it  consistently  may  be,  that  the 


all  its  governors,  for  whose  preservation 
in  the  right  way  so  many  thousands  of 
pious  Christians  have  been  always  daily 
offering  up  their  prayers,  and  with  whom 
Christ  promised  to  be,  always,  even  unto 
the  end — is  it  conceivable  that  all  these 
should  have  been  for  ages  together  in 
gross  and  dangerous  error  on  important 
points  ?  No,  surely,"  they  said  to  them- 
selves and  to  each  other,  "this  is  impos- 
sible ;  it  could  never  have  been  permitted." 
Now  if  this  is  not  possible,  the  church 
must  be  infallible. 

If  we  consider,  in  this  point  of  view, 
the  growth  of  the  doctrine,  we  shall  no 
longer  think  it  so  strange  as  at  first  sight 
it  appears,  that  such  a  claim  should  have 
arisen.  Nor  (which  is  more  important 
for  our  purpose)  shall  we  think  it  incredi- 
ble, that  a  similar  course  of  reasoning 
should  be  likely  to  take  place  in  the  minds 
of  Protestants,  and  should  lead  to  a  like 
result : — that  the  supposition,  of  any  error 
in  religious  matters  besetting  wise,  good, 
pious,  learned,  humble,  and  diligent  men, 
should  appear  so  strange,  that  at  length 
the  strangeness  should  be  regarded  as 
amounting  to  impossibility;  and  when 
once  this  point  is  reached,  the  claim  to 
infallibility  is  virtually  set  up. 

It  must  be  admitted,  moreover,  that  the 

claim  of  infallibility  in  the  church,  when 

!  it  is  distinctly  avowed,  is  at  least  more 


*  See  Blanco  White's  «  Evidence  against  Ca- 
tholicism." 


great  majority,  both  in  the  eastern  and 
western  churches,  are,  and  have  been  for 
many  centuries,  and  were,  at  the  very  time 
referred  to,  worshippers  of  relics,  and  of 
the  Virgin,  &c.,  the  same  Protestant  ad- 
vocate will  reply,  that  these  doctrines  are 
unscriptural — that  human  divines  are  fal- 
lible, and  that  we  ought  to  "  obey  God 
rather  than  man."  Now  if  we  regard  the 
"  Fathers"  as  men  subject  to  human  in- 
firmity, and  teaching  truth  mixed  with 
error,  we  ought  to  appeal  to  them  as  such  : 
if  we  appeal  to  them,  or  to  any  set  of 
men,  with  an  air  of  decisive  triumph,  we 
should  be  prepared  to  admit  their  infalli- 
bility throughout.  It  surely  is  not  fair  to 
make  the  church's  authority  of  the  highest 
or  the  lowest  value,  according  as  it  hap- 
pens to  support,  or  to  oppose,  our  own 
[conclusions. 

"""  §.  5.  Indeed,  monstrous  as  the  Romish 
doctrine  of  the  infallibility  of  the  church 
at  first  sight  appears,  and  widely  different 
as  the  claim  is  usually  regarded  from  any 
that  have  ever  been  advocated  by  Protest- 
ants, there  have  not  been  wanting  persons 
who  (in  consequence  perhaps  of  the  pre- 
valence of  the  practice  just  noticed)  have 
represented  the  Romish  church  as  differ- 
ing little  in  this  point  from  our  own,  and 
indeed  every  other.  "  It  is  true,"  (they 
say,)  "  the  church  of  England  disclaims 
the  right  of  requiring  assent  to  any  article 
of  faith  which  may  not  be  proved  by 


*  Elements  of  Rhetoric,  parti,  chap.  iii.  §.  2. 
E* 


54  UNDUE  RELIANCE  ON  HUMAN  AUTHORITY. 

Scripture  :  but  then  if  she  claims  the  right  I  other  churches  who  might  hold  different 
of  deciding  without  appeal  what  doctrines  i  doctrines ;  but  of  course  not  admitting 
are  scriptural,  and  requires  of  all  her  her  own  to  be  erroneous ;  which  would 
members  the  admission,  riot  only  of  the  be  saying  in  the  same  breath  that  they  are 
authority  of  Scripture,  but  of  her  inter-  i  not  her  own.  An  individual  indeed  will 


pretation  of  it,  and  an  admission  of  all  the 
doctrines  founded  on  that  interpretation, 
the  same  end  is  gained  :  since  even  the 
church  of  Rome  might  have  professed  to 
appeal  to  Scripture  in  behalf  all  her  doc- 
trines, retaining  the  power  of  deciding  defi- 
nitely what  books  should  be  received  as 


often  have  not  made  up  his  mind  as  to  this 
or  that  question;  and  will  often  express 
doubts  as  to  some  opinion  which  he  is 
rather  inclined  to  adopt:  but  for  a  church 
to  make  a  declaration  of  doubt  would 
be  absurd.  In  whatever  points  our  re- 
formers felt  themselves  undecided,  and  in 


Scripture,  and  what  is  the  true  sense  of  |  whatever,  though  themselves  convinced, 
each  passage.  "  The  difference  then,"  |  they  thought  it  unnecessary  to  require 
they  urge,  (I  am  quoting  the  arguments  of  !  general  assent — on  such  points  they  would 
an  author  of  no  mean  ability,)  "  between  |  of  course  say  nothing.  Whatever  they 
the  two  churches,  amounts  only  to  this ;  ;  set  forth,  they  could  not  but  set  forth,  as, 
that  the  one  cannot  err,  and  the  other  in  their  judgment,  both  true, and  essential, 
never  does;  the  one  is  infallible,  and  the  It  is  possible,  indeed,  for  a  church  to 
other  always  in  the  right."  For  though  multiply  unnecessarily  her  articles  of  faith, 
it  is  declared  that  other  churches  have  I  and  thus  narrow  too  much  the  terms  of 
erred,  and  not  denied  that  our  own  may*  her  communion :  but  if  in  any  case  this 
it  is  never  admitted  that  ours  (as  consti-  j  fault  were  committed,  and  even  if  we  sup- 
tuted  at  the  Reformation)  has  fallen  into  pose  many  of  the  doctrines  so  laid  down 
any  error.  to  be  fundamentally  erroneous,  still  this 

This  charge  of  advancing  a  virtual  claim  j  fault  would  be  of  a  totally  different  kind 


to  infallibility,  though  specious  at  the  first 
glance,  melts  away  before  a  close  exa- 
mination ;  for,  in  fact,  the  claim  of  our 
church  is  no  other  than  even  every  indi- 
vidual, without  any  arrogance,  advances, 
and  cannot  but  advance,  in  his  own  be- 
half. Whoever  professes  to  hold  any 


from  that  of  advancing  a  claim  to  infal- 
libility* 

In  short,  to  profess  certain  doctrines, 


has  denounced  the  Romanists  as  erroneous  indeed, 
but  not  as  heretical.  If  one  brought  up  in  the 
bosom  of  our  church  were  to  preach,  for  instance, 


doctrine,  implies  by  that  very  expression  Jhe  doctriyie  of  the  sacf  <*  of  the  mass,  he  would 
i  .  .     .  r       c  ./    A      ,        -L,  .     ,.      be  properly  pronounced  as  heretical ;  but  we  claim 


his  conviction  of  its  truth.  For  an  indi- 
vidual (and  a  church  no  less)  to  acknow- 
ledge the  erroneousness  of  his  present 
tenets,  would  be  a  contradiction  in  terms. 
And  the  erroneousness  of  many  of  her 
former  tenets,  during  our  subjection  to  the 
papal  sway,  our  church  amply  acknow- 
ledged by  the  very  act  of  reforming. 


properly  pronounced 

no  spiritual  authority  over  the  members  of  other 
churches.  The  Romanists  do ;  and  accordingly 
denominate  us,  with  perfect  consistency,  heretics ; 
as  being  properly  members,  though  rebellious 
members,  of  their  church.  See  Blanco  White's 
Evidence  against  Catholicism,  p.  118.,  and  Hinds' 
History,  vol.  ii.  p.  41 — 45. 

*  Much  of  the  confusion  of  thought  which  has 
arisen  on  this  subject  is  to  be  traced  to  the  ambi- 

Hut  every   church  must  have  certain  !  guity  of  the  word  «  authority ;"  which  is  some- 
terms    of    communion,   the    rejection    of    times  used,  in  the  primary  sense,  (corresponding 

which  implies  exclusion  from  that  com- I  ™th  GMC>°™^ 

r.  .j          c  v    !  the  example  or  opinion  of  those  who,  in  any  point, 

mimion;  since  the  very  idea  of  a  reli-  |  are  likdypto  be  competent  jnd      and  whic^aises 

gious  society  is  incompatible  with  a  fun-  i  a  presumption  in  favour  of  what  they  have  done 
damental  discrepancy  of  religious  per-  '  or  maintained ;  as  when  we  appeal  to  the  "author- 
suasion.  And  since  such  discrepancies  ity"  of  some  historian  or  philosopher:  but  some- 
may,  and  do,  exist  among  those  who  times  a£ain>  and  that  not  ""frequently,  it  is  used 

agree  in  admitting  the  supreme  authority   (in.  ^  sense  *£**?)*  *ig?lfy  ^°T' t0 

r  c     .    ,          -x  •       i   •      11-       i     •     •         which  we   are   absolutely  bound   to   submit;  as 

of  Scripture,  it  is  plain  that  this  admission   when  we  gpeak  of  the  /uthority  of  a  maj,istrate. 

cannot  be  of  itself  a  sufficient  bond  of  j  The  language  of  our  article  keeps  clear  of  this 
union.  Our  church,  therefore,  (as  every  ;  ambiguity,  in  the  statement,  that  «  the  church  has 
religious  society  must  do,  either  avow-  :  power  to  ordain  rites  and  ceremonies,"  (not  at 
edly  or  virtually,)  fixed  on  certain  doc-  ,  variance  with  God's  Word,)  and  has  authority  m 
trin'es  as  necessary  to  be  admitted  by  those  Controversies  of  faith."  But  still,  the  use  of  the 
c  .  J  '  word  authority  in  the  sense  of  power  is  so  com- 

who  should  be  members  of  it;  not  de- |  mori)  that  it  h4  T  have  no  doubtf aided  in  produc- 


nouncng   as 


heretics*   the   members   of  I  ing  the   impression,  that  a  claim  is  advanced  by 
the  church  of  being  an  infallible  interpreter  of 


It  is  well  worth  remarking,  that  our  church  j  Scripture. 


UNDUE  RELIANCE   ON  HUMAN  AUTHORITY. 


and  (which  is  implied  by  so  doing)  to  de- 
clare that  those  doctrines  are  true,  is,  for 
every  church,  allowable,  because  inevita- 
ble ;  to  err  in  any  of  those  doctrines,  or 
in  the  mode  of  setting  them  forth,  as  long 
as  there  is  a  readiness  to  correct  any  thing 
that  shall  be  proved  at  variance  with 
Scripture  or  with  reason,  is  nothing  un- 
pardonable, nor,  in  its  results,  incurable  : 
while  to  deny  the  liability  to  error,  and  to 
claim,  without  warrant,  the  infallibility 
which  implies  inspiration,  is  in  itself  pre- 
sumptuous impiety,  and  leads  to  intermi- 
nable corruption. 

For  the  difference  is  no  mere  theoreti- 
cal nicety,  but  of  most  extensive  practi- 
cal importance.  The  claim  to  exemption 
from  error  shuts  the  door  against  reform. 
The  smallest  change  in  any  article  of 
faith  would  break  the  talisman  of  infalli- 
bility, and  the  magic  edifice  of  papal  do- 
minion would  crumble  into  ruins.  In 
matters  of  discipline,  indeed,  the  Romish 
church  might  introduce  reforms,  without 
compromising  her  claim;  since  there  the 
question  is  one  not  of  truth,  but  of  expe- 
diency :  which  may  vary  in  each  different 
age  and  country.  But  her  regulations  re- 
specting discipline  have  been  so  inter- 
twined with  doctrinal  points,  that  she  has 
generally  dreaded  to  alter  any  thing,  lest 
her  infallibility  should  be  called  in  ques- 
tion. For  instance,  it  has  never  been 
contended  that  the  adoration  of  images 
and  relics  is  essential  to  Christianity  ; 
there  would  therefore  be  no  inconsistency 
on  the  part  of  the  Romish  church  in  re- 
medying that  abuse :  but  it  has  been 
thought  probable  (and  not  without  reason) 
that  to  do  so  might  raise  suspicions  as  to 
the  wisdom  of  originally  sanctioning  the 
practice,  as  to  the  soundness  of  the  ar- 
guments and  decisions  by  which  it  was 
maintained  against  Protestants — and  as  to 
the  truth  of  the  miraculous  legends  con- 
nected with  it ;  and  the  upholders  of  the 
Romish  system  have  accordingly  always 
dreaded  (as  was  remarkably  exemplified 
not  long  since  in  respect  of  some  efforts 
towards  such  an  amelioration,  made  in 
Germany)  to  touch  a  single  stone  of  their 
infirm  fabric,  lest  another,  and  another 
should  be  displaced.  For  those  who  are 
conscious,  or  who  at  all  suspect,  (whether 
with  or  without  good  reason,)  that  great 
part  of  the  system  they  are  maintaining 
is  thoroughly  unsound,  are  naturally  led 
to  regard  the  beginning  of  reformation 
(even  as  Solomon  says  of  the  beginning 
of  strife)  as  "  like  the  letting  out  of  wa- 
ter j"  when  once  commenced  they  know 


55 

not  to  what  it  may  proceed,  or  how  it 
can  be  stopped.  And  thus  it  is  that  the 
claim  to  infallibility  burdens  the  church 
of  Rome  with  a  load  of  long-accumulated 
errors  and  abuses,  to  which  many  proba- 
bly of  her  adherents  are  by  no  means 
blind,  but  of  which  they  know  not  how 
to  relieve  her. 

To  this  evil  must  be  added,  that  the  claim 
of  an  infallibility  independent  of  Scripture, 
naturally  tends  towards  the  result  which 
in  fact  took  place,  the  prohibition  of  trans- 
lations,and  the  discouragement  of  the  study 
of  the  Scriptures,  as  needless,  and  unsafe, 
for  the  mass  of  the  Christian  laity.  And 
even  after  the  removal  or  relaxation  of  this 
restriction,  the  people,  even  with  the  Bible 
in  their  hands,  are  evidently  far  less  likely 
to  perceive  the  erroneousness  of  any  doc- 
trines of  their  church,  if  that  church  does 
not  profess  to  rest  those  doctrines  on 
Scripture  alone,  but  on  her  own  independ- 
ent and  paramount  authority.  Thou- 
sands must  have  perceived  many  Romish 
tenets  to  be  unwarranted  by  Scripture, 
who  have  yet  never  thought  of  regarding 
that  as  ground  for  calling  them  in  ques- 
tion. On  the  other  hand,  k'  even  corrupt 
churches,  provided  they  did  not  suppress 
the  Scriptures,  or  disallow  them  as  the 
only  rule  of  faith,  may  still  afford  to  many 
of  their  members  the  means  of  correcting 
their  errors,  and  ascertaining  the  essential 
truths  of  Christianity."* 

§.  6.  But  are  Protestants  then,  as  long 
as  they  do  but  acknowledge  these  princi- 
ples, exempt  from  all  danger  of  any  such 
error  as  that  for  which  the  Romish  church 
has  now  been  censured  ?  By  no  means. 
Such  might  indeed  have  been  the  case  had 
the  claim  to  infallibility  for  the  decisions  of 
the  church,  and  the  comparative  disregard 
of  Scripture,  been  the  cause,  instead  of 
being,  as  in  truth  it  was,  the  effect,  of  the 
tendency  to  pay  undue  deference  to  hu- 
man authority.  The  real  cause  of  that 
tendency  is  to  be  sought  in  the  principles 
of  our  common  nature ; — in  the  disposi- 
tion to  carry  almost  to  idolatry  the  vene- 
ration due  to  the  wise,  and  good,  and 
great; — in  the  dislike  of  doubt  and  of  trou- 
blesome investigation — the  dread  of  per- 
plexity and  disagreement — and  the  desire 
of  having  difficult  questions  finally  settled, 
and  brought  into  the  form  of  dogmas 
ready  prepared  for  acceptance  in  a  mass. 
While  this  disposition!  continues  to  form 

*  Hawkins  on  Tradition,  p.  42. 

|  Which  c-mnot  perhaps  be  so  well  described 
in  our  language,  as  by  the  words  of  the  Greek  his- 
torian, tTTl  Ti*  trOtfAtt  [AAKK'.V 


56 


UNDUE  RELIANCE  ON  HUMAN  AUTHORITY. 


a  part  of  our  nature,  we  can  never,  but  by 
continual  self-distrust,  be  safe  from  its  ef- 
fects. And  the  danger  of  virtually  sub- 
stituting human  authority  for  divine  is  the 
greater,  from  the  necessity  which  exists 
of  making  use  of  human  expositions  of 
Scripture  ;  not  only  for  the  purpose,  above 
alluded  to,  of  providing  a  symbol,  test,  or 
creed,  (such  as  our  thirty-nine  articles,) 
in  order  to  ascertain  a  sufficient  agree- 
ment in  members  of  the  same  religious 
community,  but  also  for  the  purposes  of 
public  worship,  and  of  catechetical  in- 
struction. For  the  sacred  writers  have 
not  only  transmitted  only  one  short  form 
of  prayer,*  and  no  complete  form  for  the 
administration  of  the  Christian  ordinances, 
but  have  not  even  left  us  any  systematic 
course  of  instruction  in  the  Christian  doc- 
trines. These  they  have  left  to  be  col- 
lected from  histories  and  epistles,  evi- 
dently addressed  to  Christians — to  persons 
who  had  already  been  regularly  instructed 
(catechized  as  the  word  is  in  the  original) 
in  the  principles  of  the  faith  :  thus|  leav- 
ing, as  it  should  seem,  to  the  church  the 
office  of  systematically  teaching,  and  to 
the  Scriptures  that  of  proving  the  Chris- 
tian doctrines. 

And  it  is  a  circumstance  not  a  little  re- 
markable, that  they  should,  all  of  them, 
have  thus  abstained  from  committing  to 
writing  (what  they  must  have  been  in  the 
habit  of  employing  orally)  a  catechism 
or  course  of  elementary  instruction  in 
Christianity,  consisting  of  a  regular  series 
of  unquestionable  canons  of  doctrine — 
articles  of  faith  duly  explained  and  de- 
veloped— in  short,  a  compendium  of  the 
Christian  religion;  which  we  maybe  sure 
(had  such  ever  existed)  would  have  been 
carefully  transmitted  to  posterity.  This, 
I  say,  must  appear  to  every  one,  on  a  lit- 
tle reflection,  something  remarkable  ;  but 
it  strikes  me  as  literally  miraculous.  I 
mean,  that  the  procedure  appears  to  me 
dictated  by  a  wisdom  more  than  human; 
and  that  the  apostles  and  their  immediate 
followers  must  have  been  supernaturally 
withheld  from  taking  a  course  which 
would  naturally  appear  to  them  the  most 
expedient.  Considering  how  very  great 
must  have  been  the  total  number  of  all 
the  elders  and  catechists  appointed,  in 
various  places,  by  the  apostles,  and  by 
those  whom  they  commissioned,  it  seems 
hardly  credible,  that  no  one  of  these 

*  Hinds'  History  of  the  Kise  of  Christianity, 
vol.  ii.  p.  114,  115.  ' 

\  See  Hawkins'  Dissertation  on  Tradition. 


should  have  thought  of  doing  what  must 
have  seemed  so  obvious,  as  to  write,  under 
the  superintendence  and  correction  of  the 
apostles,  some  such  manual  for  the  use  of 
his  hearers  :  as  was  in  fact  done  repeatedly 
in  subsequent  ages,  (i.  e.  after,  as  we  hold, 
the  age  of  inspiration  was  passed,)  in  all 
the  churches  where  any  activity  existed. 
Thus  much,  at  least,  appears  to  me  indu- 
bitable :  that  impostors  would  have  taken 
sedulous  care  (as  Mahomet  did)  to  set 
forth  a  complete  course  of  instructions  in 
their  faith ;  and  that  enthusiasts  would 
never  have  failed,  some  of  them  at  least, 
to  fall  into  the  same  plan  ;  so  that  an 
omission  which  is,  on  all  human  princi- 
|  pies,  unaccountable,  amounts  to  a  moral 
;  demonstration  of  the  divine  origin  of  our 
j  religion.  And  this  argument,  we  should 
•  observe,  is  not  drawn  from  the  supposed 
\  wisdom  of  such  an  appointment :  it  holds 
|  good  equally,  however  little  we  may  per- 
!  ceive  the  expediency  of  the  course  actu- 
ally pursued ;  for  that  which  cannot  have 
come  from  man,  must  have  come  from 
God.  If  the  apostles  were  neither  en- 
thusiasts nor  impostors,  they  must  have 
been  inspired ;  whether  we  can  under- 
I  stand,  or  not,  the  reasons  of  the  proce- 
,  dure  which  the  Holy  Spirit  dictated. 

In  this  case,  however,  attentive  consi- 
deration may  explain  to  us  these  reasons. 
God's  wisdom  doubtless  designed  to  guard 
us  against  a  danger,  which  I  think  no  hu- 
man wisdom  would  have  foreseen — the 
danger  of  indolently  assenting  to,  and 
!  committing  to  memory,  a  "  form  of  sound 
words ;"  which  would  in  a  short  time 
have  become  no  more  than  a  form  of 
words  ; — received  with  passive  reverence, 
and  scrupulously  retained  in  the  mind- — 
leaving  no  room  for  doubt — furnishing  no 
call  for  vigilant  investigation — affording 
no  stimulus  to  the  attention,  and  making 
|  no  vivid  impression  on  the  heart.  It  is 
|  only  when  the  understanding  is  kept  on 
the  stretch  by  the  diligent  search — the 
watchful  observation — the  careful  deduc- 
tion— which  the  Christian  Scriptures  call 
forth,  by  their  oblique,  incidental,  and 
irregular  mode  of  conveying  the  know- 
ledge of  Christian  doctrines — it  is  then 
only,  that  the  feelings,  and  the  moral 
portion  of  our  nature,  are  kept  so  awake 
as  to  receive  the  requisite  impression  :  and 
it  is  thus  accordingly  that  Divine  wisdom 
has  provided  for  our  wants,  "  Cur  is  acuens 
mortalia  corda." 

It  should  be  observed  also,  that  a  single 
systematic  course  of  instruction,  carrying 
with  it  divine  authority,  would  have  su- 


per 


UNDUE  RELIANCE  ON  HUMAN  AUTHORITY.  57 

seded  the  framing  of  any  others — nay, !      The  principle  which  I  have  here  stated, 

as  favourably  as  I  am  able,  is  one  which, 


would  have  made  even  the  alteration  of  a 

single  word  of  what  would,  on  this  sup-  I  believe,  is  often  not  distinctly  stated 
position,  have  been  Scripture*  appear  an  '  even  inwardly  in  thought,  by  multitudes 
impious  presumption ;  and  yet  could  not  who  feel  and  act  conformably  to  it. 


possibly  have  been  well-adapted  for  all 
the  varieties  of  station,  sex,  age,  intellec- 
tual power,  education,  taste,  and  habits 
of  thought.  So  that  there  would  have 
been  an  almost  inevitable  danger,  that 
such  an  authoritative  list  of  credenda 
would  have  been  regarded  by  a  large 
proportion  of  Christians  with  a  blind  and 
unthinking  reverence,  which  would  have 
excited  no  influence  on  the  character; 
they  would  have  had  "a  form  of  godli- 
ness ;  but  denying  the  power  thereof," 
the  form  itself  would  have  remained  with 
them  only  as  the  corpse  of  departed  re- 
ligion. 

§.  7.  Such  then  being  the  care  with 
which  God's  providence  has  guarded 
against  leading  us  into  this  temptation,  it 
behoves  us  to  be  careful  that  we  lead  not 
ourselves  into  temptation,  nor  yield  to 
those  which  the  natural  propensities  of 
the  human  heart  present.  For,  through 
the  operation  of  those  principles  which  I 
have  so  earnestly,  and  perhaps  too  co- 
piously, dwelt  on,  we  are  always  under 
more  or  less  temptation  to  exalt  some 
human  exposition  of  the  faith  to  a  prac- 
tical equality  with  the  Scriptures,  by  de- 
voting to  that  our  chief  attention,  and 
making  to  it  our  habitual  appeal. 

And  why,  it  may  be  said,  should  we 
scruple  to  do  this  ?  giving  to  Scripture 
the  precedence  indeed  in  point  of  dignity, 
as  the  foundation  on  which  the  other  is 
built,  but  regarding  the  superstructure  as 
no  less  firm  than  the  foundation  on  which 
it  is  fairly  built?  "  I  am  fully  convinced," 
a  man  may  say,  "  that  such  and  such  an 
exposition  conveys  the  genuine  doctrines 
of  the  Scriptures :  in  which  case  it  must 
be  no  less  true  than  they;  and  may  there- 
fore, by  those  who  receive  it,  be  no  less 
confidently  appealed  to.  Supposing  us 
fully  to  believe  its  truth,  it  answers  to  us 
the  purpose  of  Scripture:  since  we  can 
but  fully  believe  that.  For  in  mathematics, 
for  instance,  we  are  not  more  certain  of 
the  axioms  and  elementary  propositions, 
than  we  are  of  those  other  propositions 
which  are  proved  from  them  :  nor  is  there 
any  need  to  go  back  at  every  step  to  those 
first  theorems  which  are  the  foundation 
of  the  whole." 


One  obvious  answer  which  might  be 
given  to  such  reasoning  is,  that  to  assign 
to  the  deductions  of  uninspired  men  the 
same  perfect  certainty  as  belongs  to  ma- 
thematical demonstrations,  and  to  repose 
the  same  entire  confidence  in  their  exposi- 
tions of  Scripture,  as  in  Scripture  itself,  is 
manifestly  to  confer  on  those  men  the  at- 
tribute of  infallibility.  Believe,  indeed,  we 
must,  in  the  truth  of  our  own  opinions: 
nor  need  it  be  such  a  wavering  and  hesi- 
tating belief,  as  to  leave  us  incessantly 
tormented  by  uneasy  doubts :  but  if  we 
censure  the  Romish  church  for  declaring 
herself  not  liable  to  error,  we  must,  for 
very  shame,  confess  our  own  liability  to 
it,  not  in  mere  words,  but  in  practice;  by- 
being  ever  ready  to  listen  to  argument— 
ever  open  to  conviction  ; — by  continually 
appealing  and  referring  at  every  step  "  to 
the  law  and  to  the  testimony," — by  con- 
tinually tracing  up  the  stream  of  religious 
knowledge  to  the  pure  fountain-head — the 
living  waters  of  the  Scriptures. 

There  is  no  need,  however,  to  dwell 
exclusively  on  the  argument  drawn  from 
the  possibility  of  our  being  mistaken ;  a 
danger  which  of  course  each  one  hopes, 
in  each  particular  case,  to  have  escaped. 
There  is  one  decisive  argument,  perfectly 
simple,  and  accessible  to  every  under- 
standing, and  especially  acceptable  to  a 
pious  mind,  against  employing  any  human 
statement  of  doctrines  in  place  oif  Scrip- 
ture as  the  standard  to  be  habitually  ap- 
pealed to:  it.  is  not  the  will  of  God  that 
this  should  be  done  For  if  it  had  been 
his  design,  that  there  should  be  any  such 
regular  system  of  doctrine  for  habitual 
reference,  and  from  which  there  should 
be,  in  ordinary  practice,  no  appeal,  he 
would  surely  have  enjoined,  or  at  least 
permitted,  (and  the  permission  would  have 
been  sufficient  to  insure  the  same  result,) 
the  framing  of  some  such  confession  of 
faith  or  catechism,  by  his  inspired  ser- 
vants themselves;  since  such  a  system 
would  fully  have  answered  the  purpose 
in  question,  with  the  great  additional  ad- 
vantage, that  it  must  have  commanded  the 
assent  of  all  who  acknowledge  the  Chris- 
tian Scriptures. 


No  church,  therefore,  is  empowered  to 
do  that,  which  God  for  wise  reasons  evi- 

*  Hinds'  History  of  the  Rise  of  Christianity,  !  dently  designed  should  not  be  done.     He 
vol.  ii.  p.  236.  i  has  left  to  the  church  the  office  of  pre- 

8 


58 


UNDUE  RELIANCE  ON  HUMAN  AUTHORITY. 


serving*  the  Scriptures,  and  introducing '  so,)  as  far  as  regards  members  of  our 
them  to  the  knowledge  of  her  members, ;  church :  but  it  is,  in  truth,  only  an  "  argu- 
as  the  sole  standard  of  faith — as  not  merely  |  mentum  ad  hominem."  If  any  charge 
the  first  step  and  foundation  of  proof,  like  J  is  to  be  brought  personally  against  an  in- 
the  elementary  propositions  of  mathema- 1  dividual,  as  unfit  to  be  a  member  or 
tics,  but  as  the  only  source  of  proof;  and  j  minister  of  the  church,  the  appeal  is  na- 
he  has  left  her  also  the  office  of  teaching  I  turally,  and  rightly,  made  to  her  forinu- 
the  Christian  doctrines  from  the  Scrip-  laries  composed  for  this  very  purpose  : 
tures.  A  church  is  authorized  to  set 
forth  for  this  purpose,  1,  Catechisms — 


homilies — in  short,  whatever  may  be 
needful  for  systematic  elementary  teach- 
ing :  it  is  authorized  again,  2,  to  draw  up 
creeds  as  a  test  or  symbol  to  preserve  uni- 
formity of  faith  in  her  members:  and  it  is 
also,  3,  authorized  to  frame  offices  for 
public  worship  and  administration  of  the 
sacraments.  But  all  these  human  compo- 
sitions must  be  kept  to  their  own  proper 
uses.  However  wisely  framed  they  may- 
be— however  confident,  and  justly  confi- 


dent, 


we 


may  feel,  of  their  truth  and 


scriptural  character — we  must  never  put 


but  when  the  question  is  not  about  a 
person,  but  a  doctrine — when  the  abstract 
truth  of  any  tenet  is  in  question,  "  to  the 
law  and  to  the  testimony !"  It  savours 
of  the  spirit  of  Romanism  to  refer  for  the 
proof  or  disproof  of  doctrines,  solely,  or 
chiefly,  to  any,  the  most  justly  venerated, 
human  authority — to  any  thing  but  the 
inspired  word  of  God.  For  if  any  one 
proves  any  thing  from  our  Articles  or 
Liturgy,  for 
have  proved 

could  not :  if  he  could  not,  he  is  impeach- 
ing either  the  scriptural  character  of  the 
church's  doctrines,  or  his  own  knowledge 


nstance,   either   he 
it   from    Scripture, 


could 
or  he 


them  in  the  place  of  Scripture,  by  making  |  of  the  scriptural  basis  on  which  they  rest : 
them    the    standard    of  habitual  appeal.  I  if  he  could  have  proved  it  from  Scripture, 
Works  of  Christian  instruction  should  be 
employed  for  instruction  ;  works  of  devo- 
tion, 
such 


for  devotion  ; — symbolical  works, 
as  creeds  and  articles,  for  their 
proper  purpose  of  furnishing  a  test  of  any 
person's  fitness  to  be  acknowledged  a 
member,  or  a  minister,  of  our  church. 
But  never,  if  we  would  in  deed  and  in 
spirit  avoid  the  errors  of  Romanism — 
never  should  we  appeal  to  creeds,  litur- 
gies, or  catechisms,  for  the  proof  of  any 
doctrine,  or  the  refutation  of  any  error. 
Never  must  we  admit  as  decisive  such  a 
syllogism  as  this :  "  the  doctrines  of  our 
church  are  Scriptural ;  this  is  a  doctrine 
of  our  church  ;  therefore,  Stc. :"  I  mean, 
this  must  never  be  admitted,  without  im- 
mediately proceeding  to  the  proof  of  the 
first  premiss.  And  whenever  we  refer,  in 
proof  or  disproof  of  any  doctrine,  to  the 
Articles  or  Liturgy,  for  instance,  we  not 
only  should  not  appeal  to  them  alone, 
but  we  should  also  carefully  point  out 
that  we  refer  to  them  not  as  the  authorized 
formularies  of  a  church,  but  simply  as  the 
writings  of  able  and  pious  men,  which 
would  be  deserving  of  attention,  suppos- 
ing them  to  be  merely  private  sermons, 
&c.  To  refer  to  them  as  backed  by  the 
church's  sanction,  adds  to  them  no  legiti- 
mate force  in  respect  of  the  abstract  truth 
of  any  position.  Such  an  appeal  may  in- 
deed, in  practice,  be  decisive,  (and  justly 

*  Hinds'  History  of  the  Rise  of  Christianity, 
vol.ii.  p.  118. 


that  is  the  course  he  should  have  taken : 
not  only  because  he  would  thus  have 
proved  his  point  both  to  those  who  re- 
ceive our  Articles,  and  also  to  those  who 
dissent  from  them ;  but  also,  because  it  is 
thus,  and  thus  only,  we  can  preserve  to 
Scripture  its  due  dignity  and  proper  office, 
and  avoid  the  dangerous  and  encroaching 
precedent  of  substituting  human  authority 
for  divine. 

For  it  is  important  to  remember,  that 
human  formularies,  when  once  the  habit 
is  established  of  making  a  definitive  ap- 
peal to  them  for  the  proof  of  any  disputed 
point,  have  a  tendency  not  only  to  rival, 
but  to  supersede,  Scripture.  They  are 
usually  drawn  up  in  a  more  compact  and 
regular  form,  such  as  to  facilitate  refer- 
ence 5  and  they  are  purposely  and  care- 
fully framed,  so  as  to  exclude  certain 
particular  interpretations,  which  those  of 
a  different  persuasion  have  introduced.* 


*  It  is  on  this  ground,  I  believe,  that  the  masters 
of  several  of  our  charity  schools  are  enjoined  to 
confine  themselves  entirely  to  the  printed  questions 
drawn  up  for  their  use,  and  to  give  the  children 
no  explanations  of  their  own.  The  consequence 
is,  that  neither  masters  nor  pupils  are  trained  to 
exercise  their  minds  in  developing  the  sense  of 
Scripture,  but  merely  to  exercise  the  memory  in 
reciting  words  by  rote.  It  is  urged,  that  the  master 
might  fall  into  errors ;  and  that  though  the  framers 
of  the  printed  questions  and  answers  do  not  dis- 
tinctly claim  infallibility,  their  deliberate  decisions 
are  at  least  less  liable  to  error  than  the  views  which 
might  be  taken  by  a  number  of  comparatively  un- 
learned men,  and  are  less  liable  to  be  misunder- 


UNDUE  RELIANCE  ON  HUMAN  AUTHORITY. 


The  convenience  thence  resulting  ought 
to  put  us  the  more  on  our  guard  against 
this  encroaching  character  of  human 
compositions.  More  troublesome  indeed 
may  be  the  diligent  search  of  the  Scrip- 
tiitvs  than  a  compendious  appeal  to  esta- 
blished formularies ;  but  God  has  appoint- 
ed that  this  labour  shall  be  the  Christian's 
lot.  and  shall  bring  with  it  amply  its  own 
reward.  The  care,  and  diligence,  and 
patient  thought,  and  watchful  observation 
required  in  drawing  for  ourselves  the 
Christian  truths  from  the  pure  spring- 
head, will  be  repaid  by  our  having, 
through  divine  grace,  those  truths  ulti- 
mately fixed  in  the  heart  as  well  as  in 
the  understanding; — we  shall  not  only 
"  read,"  but  u  mark,  learn,  and  inwardly 
digest  them,"  so  that  the  heavenly  nou- 
rishment will  enter  into  our  whole  frame, 
and  make  us  not  merely  sound  theolo- 
gians, but,  what  is  much  more,  sincere 
Christians  and  good  men,  truly  "  wise 

stood  than  Scripture  itself.  The  same  reasoning 
would,  if  fairly  followed  up,  lead  to  the  substitution 
of  homilies  drawn  up  by  authority,  for  all  other 
preaching;  and,  ultimately,  to  the  confinement  of 
the  Scriptures  themselves  to  a  set  of  authorized 
interpreters.  How  easily  one  may  be  on  the  high 
road  to  Romanism  without  suspecting  it !  No 
doubt  the  Romanists  are  right  in  maintaining  that 
Scripture  is  liable  to  be  wrested  by  "  the  unlearned 
and  unstable,  to  their  own  destruction;"  and  that 
it  is  possible  to  draw  up  forms  so  precise  and 
systematic,  as  to  be  less  liable  to  misinterpretation, 
and  expressly  guarded  against  particular  errors 
which  have  been  founded  on  particular  misinter- 
pretations of  Scripture :  and  all  this  ended  in 
their  "  taking  away  the  key  of  knowledge,  neither 
entering  in  themselves,  nor  suffering  others  to 
enter  in."  But  even  had  they  (which  is  incon- 
ceivable, considering  what  human  nature  is)  em- 
balmed no  doctrinal  errors  in  this  system,  they 
would  still,  as  has  been  already  remarked,  have 
substituted  a  cold,  lifeless,  formal  orthodoxy  of 
profession,  for  active,  vital,  heartfelt  religion. 
Our  church,  accordingly,  knowing  that  the  at- 
tempt to  exclude  the  possibility  of  error,  leads  to 
the  suppression  of  practically  operating  scriptural 
truth,  braved  the  risk  of  such  errors  as  might 
from  time  to  time  arise,  by  suffering  the  people  to 
study  the  Scriptures,  and  the  ministers  to  expound 
them,  according  to  the  best  of  their  judgment; 
not  confining  to  the  homilies  any  except  such 
pastors  as  might  be  judged  incompetent  to  preach; 
and  enjoining  the  bishops  to  give  all  diligence  in 
selecting  learned  and  discreet  persons  for  the 
ministry. 

And  it  would  surely  be  the  most  consistent 
with  these  principles  to  select  carefully  the  best 
qualified  masters — to  be  diligent  in  giving  each 
of  them  individually  the  best  instructions,  and  to 
superintend  watchfully  their  instruction  of  their 
scholars,  than  to  preclude  them  (as  is  in  fact  done, 
on  the  plan  just  alluded  to)  from  giving  them  any 
instruction  at  all. 


unto  salvation,  through  faith  which  is  in 
Christ  Jesus." 

§.  8.  It  must  not,  however,  be  sup- 
posed, that  those  are  exempt  from  the 
spirit  of  the  error  I  am  speaking  of,  who 
are  the  furthest  removed  from  paying 
undue  deference  to  the  authorized  formu- 
laries of  a  church.  Many  such  persons 
on  the  contrary  are  particularly  addicted 
"jurare  in  verba  magistri" — to  adopt 
blindly,  and  maintain  in  defiance  of  argu- 
ment, whatever  they  are  taught  by  some 
favourite  preacher,  author,  or  party ;  whom 
they  thus  invest,  virtually  and  practically, 
with  infallibility.  There  is  no  benefit  in 
an  emancipation  from  the  shackles  of 
|  Rome  to  men  who  set  up  a  pope  of  their 
own  making,  or  merely  substitute  an  un- 
erring party,  for  an  unerring  church;  nor 
is  any  thing  gained  by  abstaining  from 
j  the  use  of  the  term  infallibility,  by  those 
who  believe  in  the  thing. 

Those  among  the  clergy  who  are  par- 
ticularly zealous  and  sedulous,  and  par- 
ticularly   successful,   in  awakening   sin- 
'  ners — in    enlightening    the  ignorant — in 
i  administering  consolation  to  the  despond- 
ing, ought  most  especially  to  be  on  their 
guard,  not   only  not   to  encourage   but 
watchfully  to  repress  in  their  hearers  this 
error.     "  I  depend  entirely  on  Mr.  Such- 
a-one;  he  is  my  stay  and  my  hope;  I 
I  feel  that  I  should  be  lost  without  him  ;  I 
am  sure  every  thing  he  says  is  right,  and 
that  I  am  quite  sate  under  his  guidance :" — 
j  this  is  the  sort  of  language  often  heard, 
!  and  this  the  kind  of  feeling  evinced,  in 
the  case  of  many  a  one  who  has  been 
,  recalled  from  irreligion,  or  rescued  from 
despair,   through    the    means    of    some 
spiritual  guide :  a  deep-felt,  and  perhaps 
j  commendable,  gratitude  and  veneration, 
degenerate  into  a  kind  of  idolatry;  and 
1  they  at  length   come   to  exalt  him  into 
i  their   mediator,    intercessor,   and    divine 
oracle.     This   throws  a  most   flattering 
(temptation   in  his  way;  which   he  must 
!  be  the    more  vigilant   in  opposing.     He 
'  must  not  only  be  ever  ready  to  adopt  the 
|  Apostle  Paul's  cautions,  u  Sirs,  why  do 
|ye  these  things?  we  ourselves  also  are 
men  of  like  passions  with  you  :"  u  Every 
:  one   of  you  saith,  I  am   of  Paul,"   &c. 
!  "  Was  Paul   crucified  for  you  ?  or  were 
|  ye  baptized  into  the  name  of  Paul  ?" — 
j  but  more   than   this,  he  must  also  warn 
his  hearers,  that   whereas  Paul,   having 
been  instructed  by  divine  revelation,  was 
an  infallible  guide,  he  himself,  having  no 
such   inspiration,  claims  accordingly   no 
infallibility ;  and  he  must  therefore  exhort 


60 


UNDUE  RELIANCE  ON  HUMAN  AUTHORITY. 


often,  and  earnestly,  the  flock  (not  his, 
but  Christ's)  committed  to  his  care,  in- 
stead of  pinning  their  faith  to  his  bare 
word,  to  exercise  their  own  minds — to 
weigh  well  the  reasons  he  lays  before 
them — and  to  study  for  themselves,  as 
carefully  as  their  circumstances  will  per- 
mit, the  Scriptures  which  he  is  endea- 
vouring to  expound  to  them. 

Still   stronger  to   some   minds  is   the 
temptation  to  become,  each  man  a  pope 


might  possibly  be  mistaken  on  the  point 
on  which  nevertheless  he  would  bear  no 
discussion,  this,  it  is  plain,  would  aggra- 


vate the  fault. 
"But,"   the} 


say,  "it   is  extravagant 


scepticism  to  be  certain  of  nothing;  it  is 
an  absurd  and' a  wretched  thing  to  have 
no  faith  in  any  thing,  but  to  be  for  ever 
wavering  and  hesitating."  I  need  hardly 
say  that  is  not  what  I  recommend.  The 
lover  of  truth  need  not  be  always 


m 

to  himself,  by  indulging  the  habit  of  j  actual  doubt  on  every  point;  but  he  must 
making  his  decisions  on  some  points  like  be  always  open  to  conviction — always 
"  the  law  of  the  Medes  and  Persians,  ready  to  hear  and  to  meet  fairly,  any 
which  altereth  not,"  and  of  enrolling  j  seriously-urged  objections.  It  is  one 
them  as  it  were  in  a  certain  code,  which  '  thing  to  be  without  faith,  and  another 
is  thenceforward  not  to  be  open  to  dis-  j  thing  to  have  the  faith  of  the  apostolical 
cussion.  Such  persons  make  up  their  Christian,  who  is  "  always  ready  to  give 


minds  perhaps  on  few  points,  and  with 
cautious  deliberation ;  but  having  once 
adopted  an  opinion,  will  listen  afterwards 
to  no  arguments  against  it.  "  I  have  long 


to  every  one  that  asketh  him,  a 
of  his    hope,"     If  there   be   any 
virtuous  or  manly  in  any  faith,  it  must 
be  in  that  which  defies  impugners — which 


reason 
thing 


adopted"  (says  a  respectable  and  amiable  courts  investigation;  not  in  that  which 
writer)  "an  expedient  which  I  have  found  j  rests  on  our  resolution  to  shut  our  ears, 
of  singular  service.  I  have  a  shelf  in  my  j  If  our  confidence,  for  instance,  in  a  friend's 
study  for  tried  authors;  and  one  in  my  integrity  is  accompanied  with  a  determin- 


mind  for  tried  principles  and  characters. 
When  an  author  has  stood  a  thorough 


ation  to  hear  no  objections  to  his  con- 
duct, it  surely  is  not  so  creditable  to  him, 


examination,  and  will  bear  to  be  taken  as  :  as  if  it  rested  on  a  defiance  of  accusations, 
a  guide,  I  put  him  on  a  shelf.  When  I !  and  a  readiness  10  hear  all  that  could  be 
have  fully  made  up  my  mind  on  a  prin-  j  said,  though  with  a  full  expectation  that 
ciple,  I  put  it  on  the  shelf.  A  hundred;  all  censure  would  be  refuted.  For  we 
subtle  objections  may  be  brought  against j  may  very  reasonably,  on  many  occasions, 
this  principle ;  I  may  meet  with  some  of  j  feel,  after  a  careful  examination  of  some 
them  perhaps  ;  but  my  principle  is  on  the  question,  a  confident  expectation  that  no 
shelf.  Generally  I  may  be  able  to  recall  arguments  will  be  adduced  that  will 
the  reasons  which  weighed  with  me  to  change  our  opinions;  but  this  is  very  dif- 


put  it  there ;  but  if  not  lam  not  to  be  sent 
out  to  sea  again.  Time  was  when  I  saw 
through  and  detected  all  the  subtleties  that 


ferent  from  a  resolution  that  none  ever  shall. 
Yet  nothing  is  more  common  than  to 
hear  a  person  say,  in  the  course  of  some 


could  be  brought  against  it.     /  have  past   discussion,  "  Nothing  shall  ever  convince 

evidence  of  having  been  fully  convinced;   me" "Then  hold  your  peace!"  would 

had 


and  there  on  the  shelf  it  shall  lie. 

I   have  turned   over  a  character  on  all 


When   be   a   fair   reply,   even    before    he 

finished  his    sentence ;    "  if  you  are  not 


sides,  and  seen  it  through  and  through  !  open  to  conviction,  you  are  not  qualified 
in  all  situations,  I  put  it  on  the  shelf."  for  discussion.  The  more  confident  you 
The  proceeding  here  described  I  believe  j  are,  on  just  grounds,  of  being  in  the  right, 


to  be  adopted  by  not  a  few,  though  there 
are   not  probably  many  who  would  so 


the  more  fearlessly  ready  should  you  be, 
to  hear  all  that  can  be  urged  on  the  other 


frankly  avow  it.  Yet  such  persons  per-  >side."  I  am  aware  that  this  is,  in  many 
haps  censure  the  Romanists  for  claiming  ;  cases,  no  more  than  a  form  of  speech 
infallibility  for  their  church;  a  claim  not  adopted  from  imitation:  but  considering 
implying  a  pretension  to  universal  know-  \  how  prone  we  are  by  nature  to  the  fault 
ledge,  but  to  an  exemption  from  the  pos-  !  in  question,  I  cannot  but  think  it  irnport- 
sibilily  of  mistake  as  to  the  points  we  do  ant  that  even  our  language  should  be 
pronounce  upon  ;  which  points  accord-  j  carefully  guarded,  so  as  never  to  express, 
ingly  are  no  more  to  be  discussed,  nor  i  what  we  should  never  allow  ourselves  to 
any  objections  against  them  to  have  a  feel,  that  firm  confidence  in  the  authority 
hearing.  Whoever  therefore  in  this  of  man  (whether  the  decision  be  another's 
way  decides  on  any  point,  does,  so  far,  or  our  own)  in  matters  wherein  he  is 
virtually,  claim  infallibility.  Indeed  if  (.liable  to  err,  which  is  due  only  to  the 
he  did  not — if  he  still  admitted  that  he  l|unerring  God. 


PERSECUTION. 


61 


CHAP.  V. 
PERSECUTION. 


§.  1.  THERE  are  several  expressions  of 
our  Lord's  which  are  calculated,  and  pro- 
bably were  designed,  to  guard  against  the 
notion,  that  a  rejection  of  his  religion  is 
an  offence  which  will  be  lightly  regarded 
by  the  Most  High ; — that   the   gracious 
and  merciful — the  tender  and  condescend- 
ing— character  of  the  Gospel  which  pro- 
claimed  u  peace  and   good-will  towards 
men,"  is  to  be  considered  as  implying 
that  men  are  left  to  accept  the  offer  or 
not,  according  to  their  own   tastes  and 
fancies,  and  have  no  heavy  judgments  to 
dread  in  case  of  their  not  embracing  it. 
On  the  contrary,  "  whosoever,"  said  he, 
"  shall   not  receive  you,  nor  hear  you, 
when  ye  depart  thence,  shake  off  the  dust 
under  your  feet  for  a  testimony  against 
them ;  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  it  shall  be 
more  tolerable  for  Sodom  and  Gomorrah, 
in  the  day  of  judgment,  than  for  that  city."' 
It   was  perhaps  the  more  needful   to 
guard  against  such  a  mistake  as  I  have 
alluded   to,    on    account   of  his   having 
shortly  before  rebuked  his  disciples  for 
proposing  to  call  down  fire  from  heaven 
on  a  Samaritan  village  which  had  refused 
to  receive  him;  saying,  "Ye  know  not 
what  manner  of  spirit  ye  are  of;  for  the 
Son  of  man  is  not  come  to  destroy  men's 
lives,  but  to  save."   That  this  prohibition 
and  this  declaration  of  his  might  possibly 
have  been  so  interpreted  by  his  disciples 
as  to  lead  to  the  mistake  in  question,  we 
may  infer  from  the  tone  in  which,  even 
as  it  is,  some  Christian  writers  have  spoken 
of  the  passage,  as  if  designed  to  contrast 
the  milder  and  gentler  character  of  the 
Gospel,  with  the  severity  of  the  Mosaic 
law.     Whereas  our  Lord,  in  the  words 
just   cited,    warns   his   hearers,  and  us, 
through  them,  that  abundant  in  mercy  as 
the  Gospel  offers  of  salvation  are,  that 
mercy  is  reserved  for  such  as  shall  accept 
them ;  and  that  as  the  more  glorious  re- 
wards, so  also  the  more  fearful  judgments 
of  a  future  life,  are  held  out  in  place  of 
the  temporal  sanctions  of  the  old  dispen- 
sation.    It  is  as  if  he  had  said,  "  Think 
not  that  because  I  came  not  to  destroy 
the  lives  of  the  ungodly  by  temporal  judg- 
ments, as  Elias  did,  therefore  the  sin  of 
these  men  is  less,  or  the  judgments  re- 
served  for   them,  if  they  persist   in   it, 
lighter ;  on  the  contrary,  as  greater  mira- 
cles have  been  wrought  among  the  men 
of  this  generation,  and  not  temporal  but 


eternal  blessings  offered  them,  so,  a  pro- 
portionate punishment  in  the  next  world, 
though  they  may  escape  in  this,  awaits 
the  impenitent :  I  forbade  yon  to  call  down 
fire  from  heaven  on  those  who  have  re- 
'  jected  me;  though  Sodom  would  have  re- 
pented if  the  mighty  works  had  been  done 
in  it  which  have  been  done  in  these  cities, 
and  Sodom  was  destroyed  by  fire  from 
heaven  :  verily  1  say  unto  you,  it  shall  be 
more  tolerable  for  Sodom  in  the  day  of 
judgment,  than  for  them." 

The  natural  inference  from  the  two 
passages  I  have  alluded  to,  compared  with 
each  other,  and  with  several  more  in  the 
New  Testament  connected  with  them, 
would  plainly  seem  to  be,  that  though  the 
Lord  will  not,  under  the  new  any  more 
than  under  the  old  dispensation,  permit 
his  call  to  be  disobeyed  with  impunity, 
the  rewards  and  punishments  which  form 
the  sanction  of  the  Gospel  are  not  (like 
those  under  the  law)  temporal  prosperity 
and  affliction,  but  the  far  more  important 
goods  and  evils  of  a  future  life ;  and  that 
consequently  the  revelation  of  Christ  can- 
not, consistently  with  its  character,  be 
either  propagated  or  maintained  by  the 
sword  or  the  fires  of  persecution,  or  by 
any  compulsory  means ;  but  requires  us 
to  be  "  gentle  unto  all  men,  in  meekness 
instructing  them  that  oppose  themselves, 
if  God  peradventure  will  give  them  re- 
pentance to  the  acknowledgment  of  the 
truth." 

The  desire,  however,  of  saving  men 
from  the  dreadful  doom  in  the  next  world, 
denounced  on  those  "  who  do  not  obey 
the  truth,"  has  often  been  a  reason,  and 
oftener  perhaps  a  plea,  for  seeking  to  en- 
force a  right  faith,  and  to  put  down  reli- 
gious error,  by  all  possible  means.  Too 
anxious,  we  cannot  be,  for  the  salvation 
of  men's  souls — for  the  diffusion  and  for 
the  purity  of  the  Christian  religion — so 
long  as  we  seek  to  compass  these  objects 
by  the  gentle  force  of  persuasive  argument 
and  winning  example :  but  when  these 
methods  fail,  or  even  when  it  is  appre- 
hended that  they  may  fail,  the  endeavour 
to  prevent,  by  restraint,  deviations  from 
the  established  faith,  and  to  force  the 
stubborn  and  unpersuadable  into  that 
which  appears  to  be  both  for  their  own 
good,  and  for  that  of  the  community,  is 
perfectly  natural  and  conformable  to  the 
character  of  man. 


62 


PERSECUTION. 


The  Romish  church,  which  has  so  long  |  age  preceding  the  reformation,  present  a 


and  so  loudly  been  stigmatized  as  a  per- 
secuting church,  is  indeed  deeply  stained 
with  this  guilt,  but  cannot  with  any  reason 
be  reckoned  the  originating  cause  of  it. 


memorable  and  instructive  proof,  that  the 
operation  of  these  feelings  is  not  confined 
to  the  case  of  religion. 

§.  2.  But  natural  as  these  feelings  may 


The  vast  and  black  catalogue  of  her  of-  j  be,  and  strongly  as  they  may  tend  to  pro- 
fences  on  this  score   may  be  accounted   duce  persecution,  it  may  be  thought  that 


for  by  the  circumstance,  that  a  large  por- 
tion of  mankind  were  for  many  ages  mem- 
bers of  that  church ;  and  that  in  this,  as 
well  as  in  numerous  other  points  formerly 
noticed,  the  evil  propensities  of  man's  na- 
ture were,  instead  of  being  checked  on 


in  the  present  age  and  country  at  least,  it 
is  useless  to  contemplate  a  danger  now 
completely  done  away ;  since  persecution 
neither  exists,  nor  is  likely  to  arise  among 
ourselves. 

It  is  however  important — not  perhaps 


each  occasion,  connived  at,  sanctified,  and  j  less  important  now  than  formerly — to  lay 
successively  embodied    in    that   corrupt }  down   correct  principles  on  this   point, 


system.  The  pretended  successor  of  Peter 
does  indeed  proclaim  his  own  degeneracy, 
by  his  palpable  disobedience  to  the  com- 
mand, to  "put  up  his  sword  into  its 
sheath ;"  but  this,  as  well  as  the  other 
Romish  errors,  has  its  root  in  the  evil 
heart  of  the  unrenewed  man.  .Like  the 
rest,  it  neither  began  with  Romanism,  nor 
can  reasonably  be  expected  to  end  with  it. 

Jn  respect  of  the  point  now  before  us, 
this  should  seem  to  be  more  especially 
evident :  for  none  complain  more  loudly 
of  persecution  than  the  Romanists  them- 
selves; who  adore,  to  this  day,  the  relics 
of  the  martyrs  to  Pagan  persecution.  And 
it  is  but  too  well  known,  that  the  reform- 
ers, when  they  had  detected  and  renounced 
the  other  Romish  errors,  had  not,  either 
in  principle  or  in  practice,  divested  them- 
selves of  this.*  Even  in  respect  of  the 
persecutions  directed  against  themselves, 
they  seem  to  have  joined  issue  rather  on 
the  question  whether  they  were  heretics, 
than  whether  heretics  ought  to  be  con- 
signed to  the  secular  arm.  Nor  can  this 
remnant  of  the  spirit  of  Romanism  be  so 
called,  in  the  sense  of  making  the  pecu- 
liar system  of  that  church,  properly,  the 
cause  of  it;  because  we  find  the  same 
principle  manifested  in  its  full  force 
among  the  Mahometans,  who  cannot  in 
any  way  be  regarded  as  deriving  it  from 
Romanism. 

It  is  derivable  rather  from  the  character 
of  "  the-  natural  man  ;" — from  the  natural 
feelings  of  resentment  against  opponents 
— of  love  of  control — and  of  a  desire  to 
promote  apparent  good,  and  repress  what- 
ever seems  fraught  wit/i  mischief,  by  any 
means  that  present  themselves  as  effectual. 
The  bitter  contests  between  the  sects  of 
the  Nominalists  and  the  Realists,  in  the 


*  Jeremy  Taylor  advocated,  almost  as  a  para- 
doxical novelty,  the  doctrine  of  toleration;  and 
Locke  found  it  necessary  long  after  to  make  a 
formal  and  elaborate  defence  of  it. 


and  to  keep  clear  of  a  theoretical  error, 
though  it  may  not  lead  now  to  the  same 
kind  of  practical  evils  with  those  which 
formerly  sprang  from  it.  For  it  usually 
happens  that  a  false  principle  will  lead  to 
two  different  evil  results.  To  use  a  lan- 
guage which  will  be  familiar  to  most  of 
my  readers,  a  false  premiss,  according  as 
it  is  combined  with  this,  or  with  that  true 
one,  will  lead  to  two  different  false  con- 
clusions. Thus,  if  the  principle  be  ad- 
mitted that  any  important  religious  error 
ought  to  be  forcibly  suppressed,  this  may 
lead  either  to  persecution  on  the  one  side, 
or  to  latitwlinarian  indifference  on  the 
other.  Some  may  be  led  to  justify  the 
suppression  of  heresies  by  the  civil  sword  ; 
and  others,  whose  feelings  revolt  at  such 
a  procedure,  and  who  see  persecution  re- 
probated and  discountenanced  by  those 
around  them,  may  be  led  by  the  same 
principle  to  regard  religious  errors  as  of 
little  or  no  importance,  and  all  religious 
persuasions  as  equally  acceptable  in  the 
sight  of  God.  To  abstain,  in  short,  in 
practice  from  putting  down  heresies  by  se- 
cular force,  if  we  at  the  same  time  main- 
tain the  right  to  do  so,  in  the  case  of  per- 
nicious error,  is  in  fact  to  sanction  those 
heresies  as  harmless  and  insignificant. 

Moreover,  it  is  also  important,  with  a 
view  to  future  contingencies,  to  be  in  pos- 
session of  just  principles  on  such  a  subject. 
When  persecution  is  not  actually  raging 
— when  men's  minds  are  not  actually  in- 
flamed by  the  combination  of  religion  ani- 
mosity with  excitements  of  a  political 
character — then  is  the  very  time  to  pro- 
vide ourselves  with  such  firmed-fixed  and 
right  principles,  as  may  avail  in  time  of 
need,  and  to  destroy  the  roots  of  those 
theoretical  errors  which  may  lie  torpid, 
yet  ready  to  vegetate  as  soon  as  the  sea- 
son is  favourable  to  them.  For  when 
party  spirit  and  all  angry  passions  are 
raging,  the  voice  of  calm  reason  is  not 


PERSECUTION. 


63 


likely  to  be  listened  to.  When  the  storm 
is  in  its  fury,  it  may  be  too  late  to  drop 
the  anchor. 

And  especially  persons  of  the  mildest 
disposition,  and  most  forbearing  benevo- 
lence, who  are  fully,  and  perhaps  justly, 
conscious  that  they  themselves  would 
never,  under  any  circumstances,  be  in 
danger  of  acting  harshly — more  especially, 
I  say,  should  such  persons  be  warned  of 
the  importance  of  tolerant  principles,  and 
cautioned  to  be  on  their  guard  against  in- 
culcating or  favouring  such  doctrines  as 
may,  by  being  consistently  followed  up, 
lead  others  into  persecution.  For  such  a 
person  is  of  course  not  likely  to  distrust 
himself  on  this  point;  from  feeling  confi- 
dent that  cruel  severity  is  not  his  own 
besetting  sin ;  and  therefore  may  be  in  the 
more  danger  of  promulgating  principles, 
which  others  will  act  upon  in  a  manner 
that  would  be  revolting  to  himself.  He 
may  have  been  preparing  a  poisonous 
potion,  which  others  will  administer.  The 
sword  which  he  has  unconsciously  forged 
and  sharpened  may  be  wielded  with  un- 
sparing vigour  by  sterner  hands. 

And  it  should  be  remembered,  that  how- 
ever comparatively  mild  the  character  of 
the  present  age  maybe,  if  contrasted  with 
those  that  are  past,  we  think  it  worth 
while  to  pray  that  we,  God's  "  servants, 
may  be  hurt  by  no  persecutions ;"  let  us 
never  therefore  forget  to  add  mentally  a 
petition  for  the  far  more  important  bless- 
ing1, that  we  may  be  preserved  from  hurt- 
ing others  by  persecution. 

To  prove  that  persecution  is  unchristian 
would  be  superfluous;  since  the  proposi- 
tion, so  stated,  would  be  at  once  admitted 
by  all.  No  one  calls  himself,  or  proba- 
bly thinks  himself,  a  persecutor.  The 
errors  we  are  liable  to  on  this  point,  if 
we  are  liable  to  any,  must  consist  in  our 
reckoning  ourselves  secure  from  this  fault 
as  long  as  we  condemn  the  name  of  it, 
and  reprobate  the  Romanists  for  being 
guilty  of  it,  while  at  the  same  time  we 
have  a  false  or  indistinct  notion  of  what 
it  is  that  constitutes  the  spirit  of  perse- 
cution. 

I  shall  therefore  chiefly  confine  myself 
to  a  brief  notice  of  the  mistakes  as  to 
this  point  which  appear  to  be  the  most 
prevalent. 

§.  3.  I.  The  tenet  of  the  Romanists, 
that  salvation  is  absolutely  impossible  out 
of  the  pale  of  their  own  church,  has  been 
not  unfrequently  considered  as  the  neces- 
sary basis  of  all  their  persecution.  But 
this  view  appears  to  me  not  only  incor- 


rect, but  mischievous  in  its  results.  For 
though  such  a  persuasion  may  be  harsh 
and  bigotted,  and  may  tend  to  foster  a 
persecuting  principle,  the  two  are  by 

|  no  means  either  identical  or  necessarily 
connected.  It  is  at  least  conceivable  that 
a  man  may  believe  a  conformity  to  his 
own  faith  to  be  absolutely  indispensable 
to  salvation,  and  yet  may  hold,  as  part  of 
that  faith,  the  unlawfulness  of  employing 

i  coercion  in  its  cause.  On  the  other  hand, 
a  man  may  believe  the  possibility  of  the 
salvation  of  those  of  a  different  persua- 
sion from  his  own,  yet  may  think  them 
much  less  likely  to  attain  it;  he  may 
think  their  case  not  absolutely  hopeless, 
but  highly  dangerous  ;  and  he  may  also 
think  himself  authorized,  and  therefore 

|  bound,  to  preserve  or  to  reclaim  men  from 
error,  by  coercive  means,  when  no  others 
will  suffice.  He  may  consider  govern- 
ments as  bound  to  exercise,  in  all  re- 
spects, a  parental  care  over  their  sub- 
jects:* now  children  are  withheld,  and  if 


*  Grotius,  speaking  of  the  establishment  of  the 
reformed  religion  by  the  States  of  Holland,  says, 
"  Recepta  publice  disciplina  quae  Genevse,  et  in 
Palitinatu  Germanise,  passimque  alibi,  docebatur: 
hoc  tamen  interest,  quod  ejusdem  religionis  a/it, 
diversas  minus  tolerant .-  quippe,  non  in  hoc  tan- 
tum  ordinatas  a  Deo  civitates  ac  magistratus  dic- 
tantes  ut  a  corporibus  et  possessionibus.  injuriae 
abcssent,  sed  ut  quo  more.  Ipse  jussisset,  eo,  in 
commune  coleretur ;  cujus  officii  negligentes,  mul- 
tos,  pocnam  aliorum  impietati  debitam,  in  se  accer- 
cisse.  Contra,  istse  nationes,"  &c.  The  Dutch 
States  regarded  the  maintaining  of  a  false  religion 
as  a  sin  only,  riot  a  crime  ;  (according  to  the  dis- 
tinction so  ably  drawn  by  Bp.  Warburton;)  and 
consequently  as  not  coming  within  the  province  of 
j  the  civil  magistrate :  while  others,  misled  proba- 
bly, as  men  so  often  and  so  easily  are,  by  the  cir- 
cumstance that  in  very  many  cases  the  same  act 
will  be  both  a  sin  and  a  crime,  confounded  the  two 
together;  and  regarding  it  the  duty  of  the  magis- 
trate, as  entrusted  with  the  care  of  his  subjects' 
s;ood,  generally,  to  enforce  every  thing  conducive 
to  what  seemed  to  him  their  good,  concluded  that 
the  toleration  of  religious  error  would  be  as  unjus- 
tifiable as  the  toleration  of  theft.  Yet  all  this  does 
not  imply  their  conviction  of  the  absolute  impos- 
sibility of  salvation  to  one  infected  with  religious 
error. 

Some  of  my  readers  may  perhaps  imagine,  that 
these  notions,  though  prevalent  two  centuries  and 
a  half  ago,  have  been  long  since  obsolete  among 
Protestants.     But  the  following  passages,  breath- 
ing the  same  spirit,  are  extracted  from  a  work 
which  received  the  sanction  of  a  large  and  influ- 
ential body  of  Protestants  within  the  present  cen- 
I  tury.     "  Man  is  a  compounded  being,  not   more 
i  impelled   to  seek   his   temporal  advantage,  than 
|  bound  to  pursue  his  eternal  interests.     Must  not 
the  state  look  to  him  in  both  conditions ;  and  as 
far  as  possible  assist  its  individual  members  in  the 
attainment  of  both  ]     Is  not  the  sovereign  to  rule 


64  PERSECUTION. 

need  be,  forcibly  withheld,  by  their  pa- 
rents, not  only  from  inevitable  destruc- 
tion, but  from  every  thing  dangerous,  or 
in  any  respect  hurtful.  The  persuasion, 
therefore,  of  the  absolute  necessity  of  a 
right  faith,  however  uncharitable  it  may 
be,  does  not  necessarily  lead  to  persecu- 


for  the  greatest  good  of  the  whole  ?  And  can  he 
leave  out  any  part  of  that  which  constitutes  their 
greatest  good  1  Is  he  not  again  bound  by  the  duty 
which  he  owes  to  God,  so  to  govern  his  people  as 
to  enable  them  best  to  obey  the  will  of  the  great 
common  Sovereign  of  all  1  Must  he  not  then  se- 
cure for  his  subjects  the  best  aids  of  religion'?" 
(On  this  principle  I  cannot  conceive  how  the  sove- 
reign can  be  justified  in  affording  toleration  to  any, 
that  he  thinks  religious  errors,  or  in  abstaining 
from  suppressing  them  by  the  sword,  if  milder 
means  fail;  even  as  he  would  theft,  or  murder.) 
"  In  truth,  every  separation  of  divine  and  human 
things  is  a  rejection  of  Providence."  (The  pre- 
cept of  "  render  unto  Csesar  the  things  that  be 
Csesar's,  and  unto  God  the  things  that  be  God's," 
seems  rather  at  variance  with  this.)  "  I  should 
not  have  dwelt  so  long  upon  so  plain  a  proposition 
as  that  which  affirms  it  to  be  the  duty  of  the  sove- 
reign to  provide  a  true  religion  for  his  people," 
(this  must  imply,  conformably  with  the  foregoing 
principles,  the  prohibition  of  a\\  false  ones,)  "but 
that,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  it  is  a  maxim  which 
hangs  but  loosely  on  tho  minds  of  many  in  the 
present  day." 

Whether  the  writer  really  meant  to  adopt  the 
conclusion  which  inevitably  follows  from  his  prin- 
ciples, or  whether  he  was  merely  designing  to  ad- 
vocate what  is  commonly  understood  by  "an  esta- 
blished religion,"  I  do  not  presume,  nor  is  it  import- 
ant, to  determine.  Certainly  the  fallacy  of  prov- 
ing too  much,  is  one  of  those  which  are  the  most 
apt  to  slip  in  unperceived.  It  is  remarkable,  how- 
ever, that  he  proceeds  to  censure,  not  merely  the 
enemies  of  a  religious  establishment,  but  also 
some  of  "  those  who  admit  the  lawfulness  and  ne- 
cessity of  an  establishment;"  including,  particu- 
larly, Warburton ;  whom  he  describes  as  "  feeling 
no  concern  for  the  truth  of  the  religion  which  he 
calls  to  his  aid,"  and  as  representing  that  there 
is  "no  difference  between  false  and  true  religion 
in  their  influence  on  society  !"  This  is  the  infer- 
ence drawn  from  Warburton's  just  and  undenia- 
ble remark,  that  in  discussing  questions  respecting 
the  establishment  of  a  religion  by  the  civil  magis- 
trate, we  must  waive  the  question  as  to  the  truth 
of  each,  because  each  will  of  course  regard  his 
own  as  the  true  one,  and  there  is  no  appeal  to  any 
authority  on  earth  to  decide  between  the  different 
sovereigns.  Whether  Warburton's  views  are  cor- 
rect or  not  (which  it  is  not  my  present  object  to 
inquire,)  so  gross  a  misrepresentation  of  him  is 
neither  fair  nor  wise. 

But  the  writer  from  whom  I  have  made  these 
extracts  might,  consistently,  (and  this  is  the  point 
which  is  important  to  my  present  view,)  hold  the 
possibility  of  salvation  of  one  whose  religious 
persuasion  differed  from  his  own  :  how  he  could, 
consistently,  admit  of  toleration,  I  cannot  con- 
ceive. And  what  I  am  now  occupied  in  pointing 
out  is  the  non-connexion  of  these  two  things, 
which  are  so  often  confounded. 


tion  ;  nor  does  the  absence  of  that  per- 
suasion preclude  persecution.  And  the 
notion  is,  as  I  have  said,  not  only  errone- 
ous, but  practically  mischievous  ;  because 
it  naturally  tends  to  make  men  regard 
with  suspicion,  as  leading  to  intolerance, 
every  one  who  sets  a  high  value  on  a 
right  faith,  regarding  religious  error  as  an 
i  important  evil;  and  to  suppose  that  libe- 
!  rality  and  Christian  charity  consist  in  a 
carelessness  about  truth,  and  indifference 
as  to  all  religious  persuasions. 

If.  Another  mistake  as  to  the  real  cha- 
j  racter  of  persecution  is  that  of  regarding 
it  as  consisting  in  the  employment  of  vio- 
lent  means  against  the  truth; — as  imply- 
I  ing  that  the  persecution  must  be  on  the 
1  wrong  side.     Those  who  take  this  view 
j  of  the  subject  (as  the  Romanists  seem  al- 
I  ways  to  have  done)  do  not,  in  fact,  cen- 
sure persecution  as  such,  but  rather  reli- 
gious error.     They  can  no  more  be  said 
j  to  object  to  persecution  than  a  man  could 
i  be   called  an  enemy  to  laws  because   he 
;  condemns  what  he  thinks  inexpedientlaws, 
!  while  he  advocates  such  as  he  considers 
j  wiser.     If  the  persecutors  of  whom  they 
I  complain  are  doing  only  what  would  be 
right,  supposing  the  doctrines  they  enforce 
were  true,  it  is  not  properly  the  violence 
employed  that  is  complained  of,  but  the 
false  doctrines  supported  by  it.     And  it 
may  be  added,  that,  on  this  principle,  the 
censure  of  persecution  must  be  no  less 
practically  vain,  than  it  is  in  itself  incor- 
!  rect ;  since  no  one  will  believe,  or  at  least 
acknowledge,  his  own  persuasion  to  be 
wrong,  and  the  cause  to  which  he  is  op- 
posed to  be  that  of  truth.    All  dissuasives 
!  from  persecution  must  pass  by  men  "  as 
i  the  idle  wind  whicli  they  regard  not,"  if 
the  word  be  used  in  such  a  sense,  that  no 
;  one  will,  or  conceivably  can,  apply  these 
dissuasives  to  his  own  case. 

III.  Again,  persecution    is    sometimes 
i  characterized  as  consisting  in  the  exces- 
|  sive  severity — the  cruelty — of  the  punish- 
I  ments  inflicted,  and  of  the  coercive  means 
I  employed.     But  in  cases  where  any  secu- 
lar punishment  may  allowably  be  inflicted, 
I  it  can  hardly  be  said  that  any  can  be  ex- 
cessive which  is  not  as  great  an  evil  as 
that  which  it  is  designed  to  remedy,  when 
no  lighter  penalty  will  suffice.     Now  the 
loss  of  men's  immortal  souls  was  justly 
I  regarded  by  the  Romanists  as  a  greater 
evil  than  the  most  cruel  death  of  a  heretic  : 
and  they  were  not  perhaps   mistaken  in 
thinking,  that  such  severity  as  effectually 
puts  a  stop  to  the  offence  is,  in  the  end, 
even  the  more  humane.     On  the  other 


PERSECUTION. 


65 


hand,  where  we  have  no  light  to  inflict 
secular  penalties  at  all,  all  alike,  whether 
light  or  heavy,  must  be  regarded  as 

ually  of  the  nature  of  persecution  and 
ruelty,  however  unequal  in  amount.  It 

not  the  degree  of  suffering,  but  the  just 
wrongful  infliction,  that  characterizes 
each  punishment.  Persecution  is  not 
wrong  because  it  is  cruel ;  but  it  is  cruel 
because  it  is  wrong. 

IV.  Nor,  again,  is  it  correct  to  charac- 
terize persecution  as  consisting  in  the  in- 
fliction of  punishment  for  the  gratification 
of  revenge  or  malice:  according  to  which 
view,  two  individuals  might  deserve,  the 
one  praise,  and  the  other  censure,  while 
adopting  the  very  same  measures,  the  one 
from  a  benevolent  wish  to  deter  offenders, 
the  other,  from  the  impulse  of  angry  pas- 
sion, and  from  a  blood-thirsty  disposition. 
And  it  is  certainly  true  that  such  an  act 
as  the  persecution  of  a  robber,  e.  g.,  may 
spring  from  a  sinful  desire  of  revenge  : 
but  as  in  that  case  we  do  not  condemn  the 
act  as  in  itself  unjustifiable,  though  we 
censure  the  agent;  so,  those  who  hold  the 
principle  just  mentioned,  do  not,  in  fact, 
disapprove  of  persecution  at  all,  but  only 
of  revengeful  motives  for  it.      And  any 
censure  they  may  profess  to  bestow  on 
persecution  must  be  as  ineffectual  as  it  is 
in  truth   incorrect :    for   few   will   even 
think,  and  no  one  will  admit,  that  he  is 
actuated  by  revengeful  motives.      In  the 
bloodiest  periods  of  the  inquisition,  the 
professed  object  was  always  the  preserva- 
tion of  men's  souls  by  the  prevention  of 
heretical  infection.     Nor  are  such  profes- 
sions necessarily  hypocritical.     A  man  of 
the  most  humane  and  benevolent  character 
may  be  led  by  a  mistaken  sense  of  duty, 
arising  from  error  of  judgment,  to  sanc- 
tion the  most  dreadful  severities,  which  he 
regards  as  the  only  effectual  check  to  a 
greater  evil,  such  as  he  thinks  himself 
bound  to   repress  at   all    events.      What 
candid  (or  even  uncandid)  student  of  his- 
tory can  believe  Cranmer  cruel  and  re- 
vengeful ?     Yet  he  sanctioned  the  cutting 
off  of  heretics  by  the  secular  arm,  from  a 
sincere,  though  erroneous,  sense  of  duty. 

V.  Sometimes,  again,   the  mistake  is 
committed  of  characterizing  persecution 
as  consisting  in  punishing  men  for  their  re- 
ligious   opinions;  while    punishment  for 
propagating  their  errors  is  justified. 

But  this  is  in  fact  to  explain  away  the 
veiy  existence  of  persecution ;  since  no 
man  can  be  punished  for  opinions  which 
he  keeps  secret  within  his  own  bosom. 
All  persecution,  if  there  be  any  such  thing 
9 


j  in  existence,  or  even  in  imagination,  must 
be  either  for  publishing  opinions  supposed 
to  be  erroneous,  or  for  refusing  to  re- 

\  nounce  them,  and  to  subscribe  to  the  creed 
imposed.  Will  it  be  said  then,  that  we 
are  authorized  to  prohibit  and  to  prevent, 
by  penalties,  the  preaching  of  any  doc- 
trines we  may  deem  erroneous,  though  it 
would  involve  the  guilt  of  persecution  to 
compel  any  one  to  abjure  those  doctrines, 
and  to  assent  to  ours  ?  Surely  this  is 
drawing  a  distinction  where  there  is  no 
essential  difference.  If  it  is  our  right  and 
our  duty  to  prevent  by  forcible  means  the 
spread  of  certain  doctrines,  and  to  main- 

i  tain  what  we  believe  to  be  true  religion, 

I  we  must  be  authorized  and  bound  to  em- 
ploy what  will  often  appear  the  only  ef- 
fectual means  towards  our  object,  by  com- 
pelling men  to  renounce  those  erroneous 
doctrines,  and  to  profess  that  religion ;  or 
else,  at  least,  to  quit  the  country.  For  we 
should  remember,  that  it  never  can,  in  any 
case,  be  left  to  our  choice,  whether  we 

j  will  employ  coercive  means  or  not.  All 
punishment — all  denunciation  of  punish- 
ment— in  short,  all  compulsion  and  re- 
straint— must  be  either  a  duly  or  a  sin. 
The  civil  magistrate  may  say,  "  I  have 
power  to  release  thee,  and  power  to  con- 
demn thee ;"  but  he  cannot  have  a  right 
to  do  whichever  he  will. 

And  in  the  present  instance,  it  is  im- 
possible to  draw  a  line  to  any  effectual 
purpose  between  forbidding  a  man  to  pro- 
pagate his  religion,  and  compelling  him  to 
abjure  it,  on  the  ground  that  the  one  does, 
and  the  other  does  not,  offer  violence  to 

|  his  conscience ;  which  was  perhaps  the 
distinction  set  up  by  the  Jewish  elders, 
when  they  were  content  merely  to 
"  charge  the  apostles  not  to  preach  in  the 
name  of  Jesus."  Peter  and  John  replied, 
that  they  could  not  but  u  declare  what 
they  had  seen  and  heard ;"  and  it  is  not 
surely  impossible,  or  even  unlikely,  that 
others  also  may  think  themselves  bound 
in  conscience  to  teach,  at  least,  their 
families  and  their  friends,  what  they  con- 
ceive to  be  essential  truths. 

VI.  Lastly,  it  is  important  to  observe, 

j  that  though  persecution  itself  does  ne- 
cessarily imply  the  actual  infliction  of 
some  penalty,  we  must  by  no  means  infer, 
that  where  nothing  of  the  kind  takes  place, 
the  spirit  and  principle  of  persecution  is 
absent. 

On  the  contrary,  wherever  this  principle 
is  the  most  vigorously  and  effectually 
acted  on,  there  will  be  the  least  actual 
persecution,  because  there  will  be  the 


PERSECUTION. 


least  occasion  for  it.  For  it  should  be 
remembered,  that  no  one  wishes  to  perse- 
cute. Penal  laws  against  heretics,  as 
those  against  robbers,  or  incendiaries,  are 
not  devised  for  the  purpose  of  crowding 
the  jails,  and  multiplying  the  number  of 
criminals  sentenced,  but  are  designed  to 
prevent  the  offences  against  which  they 
are  directed;  and  the  laws  are  considered 
as  then  most  effectual,  when  the  terror  of 
the  penalties  they  denounce  so  operates  in 
deterring  offenders,  that  there  is  seldom 
any  need  to  inflict  the  penalties  them- 
selves. 

We  never  hear  therefore  of  persecution 
in  those  countries  where  no  resistance  is 
made  to  religious  coercion.  The  fetters 
gall  those  omy  who  struggle  against  them. 
Accordingly,  where  the  tyranny  of  the 
Inquisition  reigns  triumphant,  there  are 
no  punishments  for  religious  offences. 
No  tree  is  withered  by  the  frost  of  the 
polar  regions,  9r  by  the  scorching  winds 
of  the  Arabian  deserts  ;  because  none  can 
exist  in  those  regions.  And  no  Protes- 
tant is  now  brought  to  the  stake  in  Spain, 
because,  there,  persecution  has  done  its 
work. 

Hence  the  fallacious  argument,  for  I 
cannot  but  regard  it  as  such,  which  is 
often  employed  against  persecution,  on 
the  ground  that  it  does  not  answer  its 
purpose  of  suppressing  dissent.  It  is 
evident  that  actual  persecution,  when  it 
does  accomplish  its  object,  must  soon 
cease.  The  fire  will  go  out  of  itself, 
when  it  has  fairly  consumed  its  fuel. 
The  more  effectually  the  Inquisition 
operates,  the  less  it  will  have  to  do. 
There  are  accordingly  few  Roman  Catho- 
lic countries  in  which  some  attempts  at 
reformation  have  not  been  suppressed  by 
a  vigorous,  early,  and  steady  resort  to 
secular  force ;  or  in  which  such  attempts 
are  not  prevented  by  the  apprehension 
of  it. 

We  must  not  therefore  judge  of  the  ex- 
istence, or  of  the  extent,  of  a  persecuting 
spirit,  in  any  case,  by  the  amount  of 
sufferings  actually  undergone;  (else  we 
shall  suppose  it  to  exist  least  where  in 
reality  it  is  in  the  greatest  force;)  but  by 
the  penalties  denounced — in  short,  the 
degree  of  coercion  that  exists  in  religious 
matters.  And  in  our  own  conduct,  the 
rock  of  which  we  must  steer  clear,  if  we 
would  preserve  the  true  course  of  Chris- 
tian meekness,  is,  not  the  actual  practice 
of  religious  persecution,  but  the  sanction 
of  secular  compulsion  and  restriction — 
not  the  actual  infliction.,  but  the  enactment 


of  secular  penalties.  For  the  injliction 
(in  any  case)  of  the  punishment  de- 
nounced, is  an  accidental  circumstance ; 
and  it  is  never  the  object  of  the  legisla- 
tor's will,  but  depends  in  part  on  the  per- 
sons suffering ;  and  if  the  law  is  just,  the 
penalty  by  which  it  is  sanctioned  ought 
to  be  inflicted  on  any  transgressor  of  that 
law.  And  on  the  other  hand,  conse- 
quently, if  the  case  be  such  that  the  in- 
fliction of  the  punishment  would  be  per- 
secution, the  law  ought  not  to  be  sanc- 
tioned by  the  denouncement  of  that  pu- 
nishment. A  compulsory  enactment  ne- 
cessarily implies  the  resort  to  forcible 
means,  in  case  of  resistance  or  disobedi- 
ence ;  in  any  case  therefore  where  the  one 
would  be  wrong,  the  other  cannot  possi- 
bly be  right.* 

§.  4.  The  ultimate  penalty  accordingly, 
in  this  world,  with  which  the  Author  of 
our  religion  thought  fit  to  sanction  it, 
was  (with  the  exception  of  a  few  cases 
of  miraculous  interference)  the  exclusion 
of  the  offender  from  the  religious  com- 
munity which  he  had  scandalizedf :  "  if 
he  refuse  to  hear  the  church,  let  him  be 
unto  you  as  a  heathen  man  and  as  a  pub- 
lican :"  if  he  would  not  listen  when  re- 
peatedly admonished,  he  was  to  be  re- 
moved from  the  society.  And  it  is  worthy 
of  being  remarked,  that  the  Romish  church 
itself  claims  no  right  to  punish  those  who 
do  not  belong  to  that  Society :  a  "  heathen 


*  Accordingly,  I  have  always  been  at  a  loss  to 
understand  how  Christians,  of  those  sects  which 
interpret  literally  the  injunction  to  turn  the  cheek 
to  the  smiter,  and  which  regard  all  employment 
of  force  as  unlawful,  can  reconcile  to  their  princi- 
ples the  practice  (about  which  they  have,  I  believe, 
no  scruple)  of  going  to  law  for  the  recovery  of 
their  rights. 

If  one  of  these  has  a  sum  awarded  to  him, 
whether  in  the  shape  of  damages,  or  otherwise,  he 
must  be  aware  that  the  defendant  would,  in  most 
nstances,  refuse  to  pay  it,  but  that  he  is  compelled; 
i.  e.,  knows  that  if  he  refused  payment,  his  goods 
would  be  forcibly  seized  by  the  officers  of  justice, 
and  that  an  attempt  to  resist  or  evade  such  seizure 
would  be  punished  by  imprisonment  or  otherwise. 

Do  they  then  satisfy  their  conscience  by  the 
plea  that  no  force  is  actually  used ;  the  apprehen- 
sion of  it  being  sufficient  1  or  do  they  plead,  that 
at  any  rate  the  force  would  not  be  exercised  by 
themselves,  but  by  the  officers,  who  are  of  a  dif- 
ferent persuasion  ]  The  former  of  these  princi- 
ples might  be  used  to  justify  a  man's  sending  an 
incendiary-letter,  provided  the  threat  proved  suc- 
cessful ;  the  latter  plea  might  be  urged  in  behalf 
of  one  who  should  hire  an  unscrupulous  assassin 
to  despatch  his  enemy. 

|  For  an  able  developement  of  this  principle, 
see  Hinds'  History  of  the  Rise  of  Christianity, 
vol.  i.  p.  327—336. 


PERSECUTION. 


man"  does  not  come  under  her  jurisdic- 
tion. In  order  therefore  to  retain  the 
right  of  coercion  over  all  who  have  been 
baptized,  even  by  such  as  she  accounts 
heretics,  the  Romanists  aflect  to  regard 
them  as  truly  members,  though  rebellious 
subjects,  of  the  Catholic  church.  In 
literal  and  direct  opposition  to  our  Lord's 
words,  though  censuring  them  for  "re- 
fusing to  hear  the  church,"  they  yet  will 
not  regard  them  in  the  light  of  "  heathen 
men."* 

The  language  of  the  Apostle  Paul  cor- 
responds with  his  Master's :  "  a  man  that 
is  a  heretic,  after  the  first  and  second 
admonition,  reject."  But  no  personal 
violence — no  secular  penalty  whatever, 
is  denounced  against  heretics  and  schis- 
matics— u  heathen  men  and  publicans." 
The  whole  of  the  New  Testament  breathes 
a  spirit  of  earnestness  indeed  in  the  cause 
of  truth,  and  zeal  against  religious  error; 
but  of  such  a  zeal  as  was  to  manifest  it- 
self only  in  vehement  and  persevering 
persuasion. 

This,  which  the  Romanists  cannot 
deny,  they  are  driven  to  explain  away, 
by  saying,  that  the  apostles  and  other 
early  Christians  were  unable  to  compel 
men  to  a  conformity  to  the  true  faith; 
they  abstained  from  the  use  of  secular 
force,  because  (I  cite  the  words  of  Au- 
gustine, a  favourite  authority  with  the 
Romanists)  "  that  prophecy  was  not  yet 
fulfilled,  be  wise  now  therefore,  O  ye 
kings :  be  learned,  ye  that  are  judges  of 
the  earth ;  serve  the  Lord  with  fear." 
The  rulers  of  the  earth,  he  adds,  were  at 
that  time  opposed  to  the  Gospel ;  and 
therefore  it  was  that  the  secular  arm  was 
not  called  in  against  the  church's  enemies. 

But  the  Romanists  might  be  asked  in 
reply,  if  indeed  such  an  argument  be 
worth  a  reply,  why  the  apostles  had  not 
this  power.  Surely  their  Master  could 
have  bestowed  it; — he  unto  whom  "all 
power  was  given,  in  heaven  and  in 
earth  :" — He  who  declared  that  the  Fa- 
ther was  ready  to  send  him  '•  more  than 
twelve  legions  of  angels ;"  whose  force, 
as  it  would  have  destroyed  all  idea  of 
resistance,  would  at  once  have  established 
his  religion,  without  any  need  of  a  resort 
to  actual  persecution.  Or,  if  for  any 
hidden  reasons,  the  time  was  not  yet  come 
for  conferring  on  his  disciples  that  coer- 
cive power  which  was  to  be  afterwards 
justifiably  employed  in  his  cause,  we 

*  Blanco  White's  Evidence  against  Catholicism, 
p.  118. 


might  expect  that  he  would  have  given 
notice  to  them  of  the  change  of  system 
which  was  to  take  place.  But  had  he 
designed  any  such  change,  his  declaration 
to  Pilate  would  have  been  little  else  than 
an  equivocation  worthy  of  the  school  of 
the  very  Jesuits.  Had  he  declared  that 
"  his  kingdom  was  not  of  this  world," 
meaning,  that  though  such  was  the  case, 
then,  he  meant  it  to  be  supported  by 
secular  force  hereafter,  and  consequently 
to  become  a  kingdom  of  this  world ; — 
and  that  his  servants  were  not  allowed  to 
fight  in  his  cause ;  with  the  mental  re- 
servation, that  they  were  hereafter  to  do 
so : — He  would  have  fully  justified  the 
suspicion  which  probably  was  entertained 
by  many  of  the  heathen  magistrates,  that 
the  Christians  and  their  Master  did,  not- 
withstanding their  professions,  secretly 
meditate  the  establishment  of  a  kingdom 
supported  by  secular  force;  and  that 
though  they  disavowed  this  principle,  and 
abstained  from  all  violent  methods,  this 
was  ,  only  a  mask  assumed  during  the 
weakness  of  their  infant  power,  which 
they  would  (according  to  the  principle 
which  Augustine  avows)  throw  aside  as 
soon  as  they  should  have  obtained  suffi- 
cient strength. 

But  the  very  idea  is  blasphemous,  of 
attributing  such  a  subterfuge  to  him  who 
"  came  into  the  world  that  he  might  bear 
witness  of  the  truth."  The  immediate 
occasion  indeed  of  our  Lord's  making 
this  declaration  to  Pilate,  was  his  desire 
to  do  away  the  expectation  so  strongly 
prevailing  both  among  Jews  and  Gentiles, 
of  a  temporal  Messiah  about  to  establish 
a  triumphant  kingdom :  but  no  occasion 
would  have  led  him  to  make  the  declara- 
tion, had  it  not  been  true :  and  it  would 
not  have  been  true,  had  he  meant  no  more 
than  that  his  kingdom  was  spiritual,  in 
the  sense  of  its  having  dominion  over  the 
souls  of  men,  and  holding  out  the  glories 
and  the  judgments  of  the  other  world; 
for  this  was  what  the  infidel  Jews  ex- 
pected, and  expect  to  this  day ;  they  look 
for  a  kingdom  both  of  this  world  and  also 
of  the  next; — for  a  Messiah  who  shall 
bestow  on  his  followers  not  only  worldly 
power  and  splendour,  but  also  the  spiritual 
blessings  of  a  future  state,  besides.  They 
did  indeed  expect  the  Messiah  to  reign 
over  them  for  ever  in  bodily  person :  but 
the  main  part  of  their  expectation  would 
have  been  fulfilled,  had  he  merely  founded 
a  temporal  kingdom,  and  delegated  (as 
the  Lord  did  of  old,  to  the  kings)  his 
power,  to  his  anointed,  in  whom  his  spi- 


PERSECUTION. 


rit  should  dwell.  Jesus  accordingly  not 
only  claimed  spiritual  dominion,  but  re- 
nounced temporal :  he  declared  not  merely 
that  his  kingdom  is  of  the  next  world,  but 
that  it  is  not  of  this  world. 

All  the  declarations,  however — all  the 
direct  and  indirect  teaching — of  Scripture, 
is  unavailing  to  the  uncandid  inquirer, 
who  seeks  in  these  books,  not  a  guide  for 
his  conduct,  but  a  justification  of  it;  and 
who  is  bent  on  making  the  word  of  God, 
where  it  does  not  suit  his  views,  "  of 
none  effect,  by  the  tradition"  of  a  sup- 
posed infallible  church,  or  by  the  subtle- 
ties of  strained  interpretations.*  But  to  a 
candid  rnind  the  instructions  afforded  by 
the  evangelists  and  apostles  appear  to  me 
not  only  sufficient  to  settle  all  questions 
relating  to  the  subject  of  persecution,  but 
also  (to  the  generality  of  mankind)  better 
adapted  for  that  purpose  than  any  argu- 
ments which  human  reason  could  supply. 

§.5.  For  I  am  convinced,  after  much 
/observation  and  reflection  on  the  subject, 
that  in  all  discussions,  whether  with  pro- 
fessed Romanists,  or  with  others,  in  spirit, 
Romanists,  who  advocate  sucli  principles 
as  lead  to  persecution,  the  arguments 
drawn  from  Scripture  are  to  be  preferred 
for  popular  use,  as  best  calculated  to 
satisfy  those  who  are  of  a  Christian  spirit 
and  open  to  conviction,  but  of  moderate 
intellectual  powers.  Other  arguments 
have  often  been  unanswerably  urged! 
against  persecution,  drawn  from  its  ulti- 
mate inexpediency — from  its  liability  to 
be  employed  against  the  truth,  as  well  as 
for  it.  It  has  been  condemned  again  with 
equally  good  reason — from  its  tendency 
to  produce  hypocrisy  and  covert  atheism, 
and,  by  creating  a  general  suspicion  of 
insincerity,  to  weaken  the  evidence  in 
favour  of  a  religion  so  supported.  For 
the  argument  from  authority — the  con- 
firmation any  one's  faith  receives  from 
the  belief  of  others,  is  destroyed,  when  a 
compulsory  profession  leaves  it  doubtful 
in  each  case  whether  those  others  are 
sincere  believers  or  not.  And  the  prohi- 
bition, under  secular  penalties,  of  any 
arguments  against  a  religion,  does  away 
with  another  and  more  important  branch 
of  evidence,  the  dejiance  of  contradiction ; 
through  the  medium  of  which  most  of  the 
other  evidences  of  Christianity  present 
themselves  to  the  minds  of  the  generality ; 


*  "  Quicquid  recipitur,  ad  modum  recipientis  re- 
cipitur,"  is  an  ancient  medical  aphorism,  capable 
of  a  wide  application. 

•/  -j-  Bishop  Taylor  and  Locke  have  almost  ex- 
hausted the  arguments  on  this  subject. 


who  could  not  possibxy  examine,  in  de- 
tail, for  themselves,  any  great  part  (no 
one  could,  the  whole)  of  the  proofs  of 
each  of  the  historical  facts  on  which  our 
religion  rests ;  but  whose  confidence  rests, 
and  justly  rests,  on  the  conviction,  that  if 
there  were  any  flaw  in  the  evidence,  it 
would  be  detected  and  proclaimed.*  Force 
accordingly,  together  with  fraud,  the  two 
great  engines  for  the  support  of  the  papal 
dominions  have  almost  annihilated  sin- 
cere belief  in  Christianity  among  the  edu- 
cated classes,  throughout  a  great  portion 
of  Europe. 

Such  arguments,  I  say,  as  these,  are 
sound  indeed,  and,  to  an  enlarged  and 
philosophical  mind — one  capable  of  taking 
a  comprehensive  view  of  human  affairs 
and  of  human  nature — they  are  perfectly 
convincing.  And  they  afford  to  such  a 
mind,  a  pleasing  confirmation  of  the  su- 
per-human wisdom  manifested  in  the 


*  "  Christians  must  generally,  it  would  seem, 
believe  in  Christ,  because  their  spiritual  rulers  do, 
and  reject  the  infidel's  views,  because  these  people 
are  pronounced  accursed.  Nay,  the  supposition 
of  the  clergy  themselves  having  the  qualification, 
and  the  opportunity  to  go  through  the  process  of 
proof,  is  only  a  supposition.  They  often  want 
either  or  both,  and  it  is  impossible  that  it  should 
not  be  so.  The  labour  of  a  life  is  scarcely  suf- 
ficient to  examine  for  one's  self  one  branch  alone 
of  such  evidence.  For  the  greater  part,  few  men, 
however  learned,  have  satisfied  themselves  by  go- 
ing through  the  proof.  They  have  admitted  the 
main  assertions,  because  proved  by  others. 

"  And  is  this  conviction  then  reasonable  1  Is  it 
more  than  the  adoption  of  truth  on  the  authority 
of  another?  It  is.  The  principle  on  which  all 
these  assertions  are  received,  is  not  that  they  have 
been  made  by  this  or  that  credible  individual  or 
body  of  persons,  who  have  gone  through  the 
proof— this  may  have  its  weight  with  the.  critical 
and  learned — but  the  main  principle  adopted  by 
all,  intelligible  by  all,  and  reasonable  in  itself,  is, 
that  these  assertions  are  set  forth,  bearing  on  their 
face  a  challenge  of  refutation.  The  assertions 
are  like  witnesses  placed  in  a  box  to  be  confronted. 
Scepticism,  infidelity,  and  scoffing,  form  the  very 
groundwork  of  our  faith.  As  long  as  these  are 
known  to  exist  and  to  assail  it,  so  long  are  we 
sure  that  any  untenable  assertion  may  and  will  be 
refuted.  The  benefit  accruing  to  Christianity  in 
this  respect  from  the  occasional  success  of  those 
who  have  found  flaws  in  the  several  parts  of  evi- 
dence is  invaluable.  We  believe  what  is  not  dis- 
proved, most  reasonably,  because  we  know  that 
there  are  those  abroad  who  are  doing  their  utmost 
to  disprove  it.  We  believe  the  witness,  not  be- 
cause we  know  him  and  esteem  him,  but  because 
he  is  confronted,  cross-examined,  suspected,  and 
assailed  by  arts  fair  and  unfair.  It  is  not  his 
authority,  but  the  reasonableness  of  the  case.  It 
becomes  conviction  well  grounded,  and  not  assent 
to  man's  words."  London  Review,  No.  II.  p. 
361,  362 


PERSECUTION. 


Gospel  scheme.  For  men  of  that  age 
and  condition  of  life,  and  of  the  Jewish 
nation  more  especially,  would  never  have 
been  led  by  mere  human  sagacity  to  re- 
ject and  prohibit  all  temporal  coercion, 
and  seek  to  propagate  and  maintain  their 
religion  by  no  force  but  that  of  gentle 
persuasion.  And  even  in  the  present  day, 
I  cannot  but  think  that  such  arguments  as 
J  have  adverted  to  are  not  likely  to  be 
comprehended  in  their  full  force,  by  men 
of  narrow  or  uncultivated  understanding. 
And  therefore  it  is,  I  conceive,  that  our 
great  Master  has  graciously  provided,  in 
his  holy  word,  a  support  for  the  weak, 
and  a  guide  for  the  dim-sighted,  among 
his  faithful  followers; — that  he  has  been 
pleased  to  reveal  what  is,  not  indeed  un- 
discoverable  by  human  reason,  but  yet  not 
so  discoverable  as  to  be  capable  of  being 
made  clear  to  the  mass  of  mankind ; — 
that  he  has  prohibited,  both  by  the  pre- 
cepts and  the  example  of  himself  and  his 
apostles,  that  persecuting  spirit  whose  in- 
expediency and  whose  intrinsic  turpitude, 
some,  even  of  the  humble  and  sincere 
among  his  followers,  might  have  failed  to 
discover  for  themselves.  As  for  the  pre- 
judiced and  the  wilful,  they  are  not  likely 
to  learn  the  truth  either  from  Scripture  or 
from  reason  :*  but  the  plainest  Christian, 
who  has  indeed  "  the  Spirit  of  Christ,1' 
and  not  that  of  the  Papal  Antichrist,  may 
learn  the  will  of  his  Master  both  by  his 
teaching  and  from  his  pattern ;  and  may 
be  made  "  wise  unto  salvation,"  by  be- 
coming a  follower  of  him  who  was  u  meek 
and  lowly  in  spirit," — who  "  did  no  vio- 
lence, neither  was  guile  found  in  his 
mouth,"  arid  who  w  came  not  to  destroy 
men's  lives,  but  to  save." 

§.  6.  How  blind  even  an  intelligent 
man  may  be  to  the  abstract  arguments 
against  persecution,  is  strikingly  illustrated 
by  a  slip  which  the  acute  and  powerful 
Bishop  Warburton  has  made,  in  treating 
of  toleration.  He  would  have  all  men 
allowed  liberty  to  worship  God  in  their 
own  way  ;  but  Atheists,  he  says,  should 
be  banished  from  every  civil  government, 
because  they  are  "  incapable  of  giving  se- 
curity for  their  behaviour  in  community  ; 
and  their  principles  directly  overthrow 
the  very  foundation  on  which  it  is  buil,t."| 
This  great  man  overlooked  the  seemingly 
obvious  circumstance,  that,  by  a  kind  of 
perverse  inconsistency,  his  remedy  would 
operate  precisely  in  those  cases  where 


*  "  Remedia  non  agunt  in  cadaver." 

j-  Alliance  between  Church  and  State,  b.  iii. 


his  reason  for  it  did  not  hold  good,  and 
would  be  almost  sure  to  fail  in  the  very 
cases  it  was  designed  to  meet.  Such 
Atheists  as  were,  conformably  to  his  sup- 
position, utterly  unprincipled  and  unscru- 
pulous, would  of  course,  were  the  system 
he  recommends  established,  make  no  dif- 
ficulty of  denying  their  infidelity,  and 
professing  any  thing  whatever  that  might 
be  proposed  to  them  ;  those  again,  if  there 
be  any  such,  who  were  too  honest  to  save 
themselves  from  punishment  by  falsehood, 
would  be  the  very  persons  to  suffer  the 
penalty.  So  that  those  to  whom  his  de- 
scription applies,  as  being  such  that  the 
community  could  have  u  no  security"  for 
their  good  behaviour,  would  remain  in 
the  community ;  and  the  sentence  of 
exile  designed  for  them,  would  fall  on 
those,  exclusively,  to  whom  the  descrip- 
tion did  not  apply. 

A  like  error  results,  practically,  in  some 
instances,  from  our  laws  relative  to  oaths. 
I  have  seen  a  case  recorded,  of  a  trades- 
man suing  a  customer  for  a  debt,  which 
the  other  denied;  he  produced  his  books, 
and  was  about  to  make  oath  in  the  usual 
form,  of  the  correctness  of  the  entry; 
when  the  other  party  objected  that  he 
was  an  Atheist,  and  therefore  was  not 
entitled  to  take  an  oath:  on  being  ques- 
tioned, he  admitted  this;  and  the  case 
was  dismissed.  The  magistrates  could 
not  have  acted  otherwise,  as  the  law 
stands;  but  surely  the  law  should  be 
altered  when  it  operates,  as  in  this  in- 
stance, to  defeat  its  own  object.*  The 
very  purpose  of  an  oath  is  to  obtain  some 
security  of  a  man's  speaking  the  truth : 
now  in  this  case,  if  the  tradesman  had 
been  so  unscrupulous  as  to  make  a  false 
charge,  it  is  not  likely  he  would  have 
hesitated  to  support  it  by  a  false  profes- 
sion of  his  belief  in  religion.  The  best 
ground  that  could  have  been  afforded  for 
trusting  to  his  veracity,  was  his  refusing 
to  utter  a  falsehood  for  the  sake  of  esta- 
blishing his  claim  ;  and  it  was  for  this 
very  reason,  in  fact,  that  his  claim  was 
disallowed. 

§.  7.  The  feeling  which  tends  to  foster 
the  spirit  of  persecution,  and  to  blind  us 
to  the  reasons  opposed  to  it — that  feeling 
of  hostility  which  naturally  arises  in  our 
breasts  against  such  as  reject  our  faith, 
or  our  own  views  of  it — in  short,  against 
infidels  and  heretics — is  chiefly  remark- 
able from  the  circumstance  of  its  being 

*  See  an  able  pamphlet  entitled  "  Remarks  on 
Oaths,  &c."  published  by  Hatchard,  1826. 


TO 


PERSECUTION. 


usually  so  much  stronger,  than  our  in- 
dignation against  those  who,  professing 
our  religion,  disgrace  it  by  an  unchristian 
life,  or  even  by  an  avowed  disregard  of 
religion.  It  should  seem  at  the  first 
glance,  as  if  the  very  reverse  of  this  were 
the  more  reasonably  to  be  expected.  For, 
as  far  as  the  cause  itself  is  concerned, 
he  surely  injures  it  more  who  brings  dis- 
credit on  it,  than  he  who  openly  opposes 
it.  The  professing  Christian  implies,  by 
a  sinful  life,  either  that  his  religion  is 
compatible  with  immorality,  or  else  that 
he  professes  it  for  form's  sake  only,  and 
secretly  disbelieves  it;  by  which  means 
he  casts  a  doubt  on  the  sincerity  of  the 
professions  of  others,  and  thus  weakens 
the  evidence  their  example  would  have 
afforded.  And  as  far  as  the  individual  is 
concerned,  the  irreligious,  or  profligate, 
or  worldly-minded  Christian,  is  surely 
more  chargeable  with  impiety  than  the 
unbeliever.  An  'Atheist  might,  conceiv- 
ably at  least,  have  loved  and  obeyed  his 
Saviour,  if  he  could  have  been  convinced 
of  his  divine  mission:  at  any  rate,  he  is 
not  living  in  habitual  defiance  of  a  God 
whom  he  acknowledges.  If  two  men 
receive  each  a  letter  from  his  father,  and 
one  of  them,  on  very  insufficient  grounds, 
rejects  it  as  a  forgery,  he  is  not  surely 
more  undutiful  than  the  other,  who,  re- 
cognizing it  as  a  genuine  letter  from  his 
father,  puts  it  away  carefully,  and  utterly 
disregards  all  the  injunctions  it  contains. 

The  Apostle  Paul  accordingly  enjoins 
his  converts  to  withdraw  themselves,  not 
from  all  intercourse  with  unbelievers,  but 
from  any  man  of  their  own  society,  that 
"  walketh  disorderly," — "  if  any  one  that 
is  called  a  brother"  bring  a  scandal  on 
the  church  by  living  in  known  sin,  "  with 
such  a  one  not  even  to  eat:"  (i.  e.  at 
the  agapre,  or  love-feasts :)  and  to  "  cut 
off"  (excommunicate)  those  who  "  offend" 
(i.  e.  scandalize)  the  society. 

How  comes  it,  then,  that  men's  feel- 
ings for  the  most  part  take  an  opposite 
direction  ?  I.  One  obvious  cause,  as  far 
as  we  of  the  present  day  are  concerned, 
is,  that  avowed  infidelity  is  comparatively 
rare.  We  are  so  much  accustomed,  un- 
happily, to  the  case  of  Christians  leading 
an  unchristian  life,  while  the  open  re- 
jection of  the  faith  is  an  exception  to  the 
general  rule,  that  in  respect  of  the  one, 
our  feelings  are  blunted  by  familiarity, 
while  the  comparative  unfrequency  of  the 
other  fault  makes  it  the  more  shocking. 

It  is  evident,  that  with  the  early  Chris- 
tians the  case  must  have  been  reversed. 


Since  men  did  not  then  profess  Chris- 
tianity as  a  matter  of  course,  and  had  in 
general  to  encounter  some  hardships  and 
inconveniences  on  account  of  their  pro- 
fession, an  utter  disregard  of  their  religion, 
or  a  life  utterly  at  variance  with  it,  must 
have  been  much  less  common  among  the 
primitive  Christians  than  among  our- 
selves :  while,  on  the  other  hand,  they 
were  living  in  the  midst  of  unbelievers, 
and  were  themselves  the  exception  to  the 
general  rule. 

It  is  also  evident,  that  the  reason  given 
does  not  apply,  at  least  with  equal  force, 
to  the  case  of  persons  holding  a  different 
form  of  Christianity.  These  are  much 
more  frequently  met  with  than  avowed 
anti-christians ;  and  they  are  the  objects 
accordingly,  in  general,  of  feelings  less 
hostile  than  the  others;  yet  still,  in  many 
instances,  of  greater  hostility  than  is 
usually  felt  towards  those  who  lead  an 
unchristian  life. 

II.  Another  cause,  which  has  the  same 
tendency  with  the  foregoing,  is  that  every 
one  who  rejects  the  whole,  or  any  part, 
of  our  faith,  diminishes,  so  far,  the  con- 
firmation which  all  men  are  disposed  to 
derive,  more  or  less,  on  every  point,  from 
authority — from  feeling  that  others  think 
with  them.  I  suspect  there  are  few  whose 
acquiescence,  even  in  the  conclusions 
of  Euclid,  is  entirely  unmixed  with  this 
feeling.  In  matters  which  admit  of  less 
intrinsic  certainty,  it  is  of  course  a  larger 
ingredient  in  that  compound  of  evidence 
on  which  belief  rests.*  And  in  pro- 
portion as  each  man  is  the  worse  quali- 
fied for  reasoning,  or  the  more  averse  to 
the  trouble  of  it,  lie  will  be  the  more  dis- 
posed to  content  himself  with  this  de- 
scription of  evidence,  and  to  acquiesce  in 
what  is  generally  received,  without  sub- 
mitting to  the  toil  of  seeking  for  other 
reasons. 

Now  any  one  who  rejects  our  tenets 
goes  so  far  towards  shaking  this  confi- 
dence, and  disturbing  this  indolent  tran- 
quillity ;  he  drives  us  to  take  the  trouble 
of  thinking — of  supporting  our  conclu- 
sions by  argument — of  contemplating  and 
answering  objections — and  of  making  our 
opinions  assume  the  attitude  rather  of 
frontier  towns,  carefully  fortified  and 
watchfully  garrisoned,  than  of  secure  and 
peaceful  inland  districts.  And  hence  we 
are  naturally  led  to  feel  some  indignation 

*  In  truth,  as  has  been  already  observed,  (in 
note,  §.  5.  p.  68.)  the  existence  of  infidelity  sup- 
plies one  important  branch  of  evidence. 


against  the  causer  of  this  disturbance.  On 
the  contrary,  one  who  adheres  to  the 
belief  of  our  religion,  while  it  condemns 
his  own  life,  is,  in  fact,  bearing  strong 
stimony  in  our  favour,  by  admitting 
hat,  it  should  seem,  he  must  wish  to 
disbelieve. 

III.  Add  to  this,  that  one  who  is  op- 
posed to  our  faith,  however  courteous  his 
outward  demeanour  may  be,  and  however 
liberal  his  real  disposition,  cannot,  we  feel, ! 
but  inwardly  look  down  upon  us,  as  weak 
and  credulous,  or  prejudiced  and  bigot- 
ted  to  error,  or  in  some  way  opposed  to 
right  reason ;    and  these  sentiments  we 
feel  as  personally  affronting  to  us.     On 
the  other  hand,  he  who,  adhering  to  an 
orthodox  Christian  faith,  lives  a  life  at 
\ariance  with  it,  seems  to  acknowledge 
his  own  inferiority  to  those  whose  con- 
duct is  such  as,  by  his  own  showing,  his 
ought  to  be.     The  one  in  short  seems  to 
scorn,  and  the  other  to  honour  us,  not 
by  their  external  demeanour,  but  by  the  I 
very    character   of  their   respective  opi-  j 
nions. 

IV.  Lastly,  it  will  often  really  happen, 
and  often  again  be  supposed,  and  some- 
times   perhaps   pretended,  that  a   man's 
rejection  of  Christianity  is,  in  fact,  a  step 
beyond  his  disobedience  to  it ; — that  he 
has  proceeded  from  leading  an  irreligious 
life  to  the  adoption   of  irreligious  prin- 
ciples ;  and  set  himself  against  the  Gospel, 
because  he  found  the  Gospel  against  him. 
In  this  case  it  may  be  urged,  with  truth, 
that  he  is  deserving  of  heavier  censure 
than  the  Christian  who  leads  an  ill  life, 
because     he    includes    both    characters. 
Whatever   we   may   suspect,  however,  I 
know  not  that  we  are  authorized  to  im- 
pute these  motives  to  any  one  without 
actual  proof. 

This  last  is,  of  course,  the  reason 
which,  of  all  that  have  been  mentioned, 
would  be  in  general  the  most  readily 
avowed,  (and  often  in  perfect  sincerity,) 
to  account  for  the  greater  indignation  felt 
against  infidels  and  heretics,  than  against 
irreligious  or  vicious  Christians.  I  am 
convinced,  however,  that  the  other  causes 
enumerated,  operate  not  less  powerfully 
towards  the  same  result.  And  if  such  be 
indeed  the  natural  feelings  of  the  human 
heart,  it  behoves  us  to  be  ever  on  our 
guard  against  their  excess,  and  against 
being  led  by  them  into  those  practical 
faults,  to  whose  frequency  history  bears 
such  ample  testimony. 

§.  8.  That  much  of  that  kind  of  feeling 
does  exist,  which  I  have  been  endeavour- 


PERSECUTION.  71 

ing  to  account  for,  observation  will,  I 
think,  sufficiently  prove.  And  indeed  it 
will  often  be  found  that  the  very  persons 
whose  requisitions  in  respect  of  ortho- 
doxy are  the  most  rigid — who  go  to  the 
greatest  extreme  in  narrowing  the  pale  of 
it — who  make  the  least  allowance  for 
minute  differences  of  opinion — and  are 
the  most  bitter  against  all  who  do  not 
agree  with  them ;  are  the  very  same  who 
go  the  greatest  lengths  of  indulgence  in 
respect  of  moral  requisitions — show  the 
greatest  extreme  of  tenderness  towards 
those  whose  conduct  is  a  scandal  to 
Christianity — and  seem  as  if  they  would 
have  utterly  disapproved  the  system  of 
discipline,  in  respect  of  moral  delinquents, 
which  prevailed  in  the  primitive  churches. 
I  have  seen  accordingly  severe  censure 
bestowed  on  a  sermon  of  a  pious  and  able 
writer,  in  which  he  ventures  to  utter  a 
wish,  (far  short,  by  the  way,  of  that  con- 
tained in  our  church's  commination-ser- 
vice,)  that  those  who  are  Christians  only 
in  name  and  profession — u  who  have  no 
clear  knowledge  of  what  a  Christian  ought 
to  be — would  either  take  one  side  or  the 
other ;  that  they  would  either  be  the  ser- 
vants of  Christ  in  earnest,  or  renounce 
him  openly,  and  say  that  they  have  no- 
thing to  do  with  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  or 
his  salvation.  Happy  indeed,"  he  adds, 
"  would  it  be  for  the  church  of  Christ,  if 
all  its  false  friends  would  declare  them- 
selves its  enemies."  The  temerity  of  this 
wish,  we  have  been  told,  would  be  such 
as  to  make  us  shudder,  if  it  came  from 
the  lips  of  an  enthusiast.  No  doubt  more 
of  the  effect  produced  on  some  minds, 
depends  on  the  question,  who  it  is  that 
says  any  thing,  than  on  what  it  is  that  is 
said  :  for  the  framers  of  our  services  have 
been  so  temerarious  as  to  express  an 
earnest  wish,  that  the  u  godly  discipline 
of  the  primitive  church"  might  be  restored, 
under  which  those  who  had  scandalized 
their  brethren  were  put  to  open  penance, 
or,  as  every  one  knows,  in  the  event  of 
their  refusing  to  make  submission,  or  of 
their  not  reforming  their  lives,  were  ex- 
cluded from  the  society,  till  they  should 
so  submit  and  give  satisfactory  assurance 
of  their  repentance. 

We  have  been  told,  however,  that  in 
the  event  of  even  a  voluntary  secession 
on  the  part  of  "  the  false  friends  of 
Christ,"  there  would  be  a  vast  portion  of 
society  permanently  cut  off  from  the  or- 
dinances and  institutions  of  Christianity  : 
(that  is,  I  presume,  as  permanently  as  the 
unbelieving  Jews  and  Gentiles,  who  might 


PERSECUTION. 


choose  to  make  their  own  unbelief  "per- 
manent ;"  or  as  the  incestuous  Corinthian, 
who  was  to  be  "  permanently"  cut  off  as 
long  as  he  should  persist  in  his  sin  and 
impenitence :)  that  they  would  cease  to 
frequent  the  assemblies  of  the  faithful — 
would  never  hear  the  word  of  doctrine  or 
exhortation — would  have  shut  themselves 
out  from  the  appointed  means  of  grace, 
and  would  be  publicly  and  solemnly 
pledged  to  unbelief:  that  their  hearts 
would  be  sealed  against  the  voice  of  the 
church,  and  they  would  be  fixed  to  their 
life's  end  among  the  desperate  adversaries 
of  their  Redeemer.  The  existing  condi- 
tion of  things,  it  is  admitted,  is  discourag- 
ing enough ;  but  it  is  a  state,  it  is  con- 
tended, of  millennial  bliss,  compared  with 
what  would  follow,  if  heaven  were  to 
listen  to  the  wishes  of  this  preacher :  i.  e., 
compared  with  the  actual  state  of  things 
in  the  times  of  the  primitive  churches.  It 
is  urged,  that  now  the  unfaithful  and 
double-minded  Christian  is  perpetually 
and  closely  confronted  with  the  principle 
he  professes :  the  offices  and  ministrations 
of  religion  are  loudly  and  incessantly  ap- 
pealing to  the  vows  he  has  made,  &c. 

All  this  may  be  very  true;  nor  am  I 
undertaking  to  prove,  that  the  primitive 
churches  were  not  injudiciously  strict  in 
their  discipline ;  or  that  our  reformers 
were  not  unwise  for  wishing  its  restora- 
tion ;  or  that  it  was  not  a  disadvantage  to 
those  churches,  that  such  as  were  strangers 
to  Christian  faith  and  practice,  were  not 
members  of  them  as  a  matter  of  course, 
but  remained  avowed  unbelievers  till  they 
were  disposed  deliberately  and  in  earnest 
to  embrace  Christianity.  The  early  Chris- 
tians probably  thought,  that  the  ungodly 
or  vicious  were  not  the  less,  but  the  more- 
likely  to  be  reclaimed,  by  the  loud  warn- 
ing as  to  their  dangerous  state,  which 
would  be  forced  on  their  minds  by  their 
exclusion  from  the  visible  church :  that 
when  not  merely  told  from  the  pulpit, 
that  the  sacraments  and  other  means  of 
grace  are  of  no  benefit  to  such  as  lead  an 
unchristian  life,  but  impressed  with  this 
truth  by  the  actual  refusal  of  these  ordi- 
nances, they  would  be  the  less  liable  to 
that  common  superstition  of  regarding 
these  means  of  grace  as  a  charm,  and  of 
flattering  themselves  that,  if  not  in  a  safe 
state,  they  are  at  least  in  a  safer  state,  by 
virtue  of  their  going  to  church,  and  of 
being  confessedly  Christians,  though  they 
do  not  (as  one  may  often  hear  people  say) 
profess  to  be  "  saints." 

In  all  this  however  they  may  perhaps 


have  been  mistaken ;  and  I  am  far  from 
denying  that  there  is  much  show  of  rea- 
son in  what  may  be  urged  on  both  sides. 
|  But  what  is  to  my  present  purpose  to  re- 
1  mark  is,  that  those  who  are  thus  anxious 
to  retain  within  the  pale  of  the  church 
such  professing  Christians  as  lead  a  care- 
less or  immoral  life,  are  not  found,  as  some 
perhaps  might  have  antecedently  expected, 
to  feel  any  thing  like  a  proportionate  ten- 
derness towards  differences  of  opinion. 
On  the  contrary,  they  are  usually  the  fore- 
most in  exaggerating  into  fatal  heresy  the 
smallest  shade  of  variation  from  their 
own  views  of  orthodoxy  ;  and  the  loudest 
in  urging  all  those,  openly  and  at  once,  to 
separate  from  the  church,  whose  notions 
do  not  appear  minutely  to  coincide  with 
their  own.  If  such  arguments  as  those 
just  alluded  to  were  urged  on  behalf  of 
those  they  denounce  as  heterodox — if 
any  thing  approaching  to  the  same  for- 
bearance as  they  recommend  in  the  case 
of  immoral  Christians,  were  proposed  to 
be  extended  to  such  as  have  not  quite 
made  up  their  minds  as  to  this  or  that  doc- 
trine, or  have  taken  such  a  view  of  any 
points  as  appear  incorrect  in  the  eyes  oif 
others  who  lay  claim  to  pre-eminent  or- 
thodoxy— were  such  a  plea,  I  say,  to  be 
urged,  almost  in  the  very  same  words,  J 
cannot  but  think  we  should  hear  a  loud 
clamour  against  latitudinarian  laxity  and 
dangerous  liberalism. 

I  am  not  of  course  contending  that 
there  may  not  be  either  a  defect,  or  an 
excess  of  strictness,  in  the  requisitions 
either  of  an  orthodox  faith,  or  of  a 
blameless  life  :  it  requires  a  discreet  judg- 
ment, to  decide  in  each  particular  case, 
under  either  class,  the  precise  amount  of 
the  departure  from  the  right  road.  But 
the  circumstance  to  which  I  wish  to  call 
attention  is,  that  since  those  who  are  the 
most  lax  on  the  one  side,  are  the  most 
rigid  on  the  other,  this  confirms  what  has 
been  above  said  of  the  tendency  in  our 
nature  towards  a  more  hostile  feeling 
against  such  as  oppose  or  disavow  our 
religion,  than  against  those  who  disobey 
and  scandalize  it. 

And  as  this  tendency  is  altogether  na- 
tural^so  it  is,  as  might  have  been  expected, 
eminently  Romish.  Never  was  there  a 
more  prevailing  laxity  of  Christian  morals, 
even  among  the  very  governors  of  the 
church  of  Rome,  and  never  was  such 
corruption  more  lightly  thought  of  by  her 
zealots,  than  at  the  very  periods  when  she 
was  occupied  in  suppressing  heresy  with 
the  most  unrelenting  rigour.  Louis  the 


Fourteenth,  who,  during  nearly  his  whole 
life,  was  setting  his  subjects  the  example 
ofliving  in  open  adultery,  was  applauded 
to  the  skies  by  a  Christian  preacher,  for 
his  piety  in  having  burned,  gibbeted, 
racked,  or  driven  into  exile,  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  his  Protestant  subjects.* 

If  we  would  be  really  safe  from  the 
danger  of  committing  faults  of  a  like  cha- 
racter with  those  which  we  regard  with 
abhorrence  in  others,  we  must  seek  that 
safety  in  self-distrust — in  a  vigilant  suspi- 
cion of  the  human  heart. 

§.  9.  For  it  is  to  human  nature  we  must 
trace  both  this  and  many  other  of  those 
evils  which  each  man  is  usually  disposed 
to  attribute  to  the  particular  system  he  is 
opposed  to.  As  the  Protestant  is  often 
inclined  to  look  no  further  than  to  Ro- 
manism for  the  origin  of  the  persecution, 
so  is  the  infidel  to  regard  Christianity  as 
the  chief  cause  of  it.  But  both  are  mis- 
taken. I  am  convinced  that  Atheists, 
should  they  ever  become  the  predominant 
party,  would  persecute  religion.  For 
nearly  the  same  causes,  or  others  corre- 
sponding to  them,  would  exist,  which  have 
been  just  mentioned  as  generating  especial 
hostility  towards  those  who  differ  in  faith 
from  ourselves.  The  Atheists  would  feel 
themselves  to  be  regarded  by  the  Chris- 
tians, not  indeed  as  weak  and  credulous, 
but  as  perverse  and  profane  :  their  confi- 
dence again  in  their  own  persuasion  would 
be  as  likely  to  be  shaken  by  the  Christian, 
as  the  Christian's  by  them :  all  the  hu- 
man passions,  in  short,  and  all  the  views 
of  political  expediency,  which  have  ever 
tempted  the  Christian  to  persecute,  would 
have  a  corresponding  operation  with  them. 
Not  that  I  conceive  most  of  them  to  have, 
themselves,  any  suspicion  of  this,  or  to 
be  insincere  in  their  professed  abhorrence 
of  persecution.  As  no  one  wishes  to 
persecute,  so  they  probably  do  not  antici- 
pate (under  the  above  mentioned  supposi- 
tion) such  a  state  of  things  as  would  seem 
to  call  for  coercive  measures.  They  ima- 
gine, probably,  that  when  they  had  de- 
prived Christian  ministers  of  endowments, 
had  publicly  proclaimed  the  falsity  of  the 
Christian  faith,  and  had  taken  measures 
for  promoting  education  and  circulating 
books  calculated  to  enlighten  the  people, 
the  whole  system  of  religious  belief  would 
gradually  but  speedily  die  away,  and  be 

*  "Epanchons  nos  coeurssur  la  piete  de Louis; 

poussons  jusqu'au  ciel  nos  acclamations 

Vous  avez  extermine  les  her^tiques ;  c'estledigne 
ouvrage  de  votre  regne :  e'en  est  le  propre  carac- 
tere." — Bossuet. 

10 


PERSECUTION.  73 

regarded  in  the  same  light  with  tales  of 
fairies.    Such  doubtless  was  the  notion  of 
some,  whom  I  have  known  to  express  re- 
gret that  Buonaparte  did  not  employ  the 
power  he  possessed  in  conferring  so  great 
ja  benefit  on    society  as  he  might  have 
j  done,  "  by  abolishing  Christianity."  They 
I  were  thinking,  probably,  of  no  more  ac- 
:  tive  measures  than  the  withholding  of  the 
I  support  and  countenance  of  the  govern- 
ment. 

In  such  expectations,  every  one  who 
believes  in  Christianity  must  feel  confi- 
dent that  they  would  be  deceived.  At 
first  indeed  appearances  probably  would 
be  such  as  to  promise  favourably  to  their 
views.  For  most  of  those  who  profess 
Christianity,  merely  for  fashion's  sake, 
or  in  compliance  with  the  laws  of  their 
country,  would  soon  fall  away,  and  would 
be  followed  by  many  of  such  as  wanted 
firmness  to  support  ridicule,  or  the  dis- 
favour of  those  in  power.  But  after  a 
time,  the  progress  of  irreligion  would  be 
found  to  have  come  to  a  stand.  When 
the  plants  "  on  the  stony  ground"  had 
j  been  all  scorched  up,  those  "  on  the  good 
I  soil"  would  be  found  still  flourishing. 
!  Sincere  Christians  would  remain  firm ; 
and  some  probably  would  be  roused  to 
exert  themselves  even  with  increased 
zeal;  and  some  apostates  Would  be  re- 
claimed. Complaints  would  then  be 
raised,  that  Christian  preachers  decried, 
as  profane  and  mischievous,  the  works 
put  forth  by  authority;  and  that  they 
represented  the  rulers  as  aliens  from  God, 
and  men  whose  example  should  be 
shunned.  Those  indeed  who  had  imbibed 
the  true  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  would  not 
fail  to  inculcate,  after  the  example  of  the 
apostles,  the  duty  of  submission  even  to 
unchristian  magistrates;  but  it  is  not  un- 
likely that  some  would  even  take  a  con- 
trary course,  and  would  thus  help  to 
bring  the  imputation  of  sedition  on  Chris- 
tian preaching  universally.  'The  rabble, 
again,  would  be  likely  occasionally  to 
assail,  with  tumultuous  insult  and  outrage, 
the  Christians;  who  would  in  conse- 
quence be  represented  by  their  enemies 
as  occasioning  these  tumults;  especially 
if,  as  is  likely,  some  among  them  did  not 
submit  patiently  to  such  usage,  or  even 
partly  provoked  it  by  indiscretion.  And 
however  free  the  generality  of  the  Chris- 
tians might  be  from  any  just  suspicion 
|  of  a  design  to  resort  to  lawless  violence 
in  the  cause  of  their  religion,  still  it  would 
I  be  evident,  that  a  revival  and  renewed 
'diffusion  of  Christianity,  such  as  they 
G 


74 


PERSECUTION. 


were  furthering,  must,  after  it  should  reach 
a  certain  point,  endanger  the  continuance 
of  power  in  the  hands  then  wielding  it; 
and  that  such  a  change  of  rulers  would 
put  a  stop  to  the  plans  which  had  been 
commenced  for  the  amelioration  of  so- 
ciety. Representing,  then,  and  regarding 
Christianity  as  the  great  obstacle  to  im- 
provement, as  the  fruitful  source  of  civil 
dissensions,  and  as  involving  disaffection 
to  the  then  existing  government,  they 
would  see  a  necessity  for  actively  inter- 
fering, with  a  view  (not  indeed,  like  re- 
ligious persecutors,  to  the  salvation  of 
souls,  but)  to  the  secular  welfare  of  their 
subjects,  and  the  security  and  prosperity 
of  the  civil  community.  They  would 
feel  themselves  accordingly  (to  say  no- 
thing of  any  angry  passions  that  might 
intrude)  bound  in  duty  to  prohibit  the 
books,  the  preaching,  and  the  assemblies 
of  Christians.  The  Christians  would 
then,  in  violation  of  the  law,  circulate 
Bibles  clandestinely,  and  hold  their  as- 
semblies in  cellars  and  on  sequestered 
heaths.  Coercion  would  of  course  be- 
come necessary  to  repress  these  (as  they 
would  then  be)  illegal  acts.  And  next 
....  but  I  need  not  proceed  any  further; 
for  I  find  I  have  been  giving  almost  an 
exact  description  of  the  state  of  things 
when  the  Christian  churches  were  spread- 
ing in  the  midst  of  Heathenism.  And 
yet  I  have  only  been  following  up  the 
conjectures,  which  no  one  (believing  in 
Christianity)  could  fail  to  form,  who  was 
but  tolerably  acquainted  with  human  na- 
ture. For  "  such  transactions,"  says  the 
great  historian  of  Greece,  "  take  place, 
and  always  will  take  place,  (though  varied 
in  form,  and  in  degree  of  violence,  by 
circumstances,)  as  long  as  human  nature 
remains  the  same."*  Never  can  we  be 
secured  from  the  recurrence  of  the  like, 
but  by  the  implantation  of  some  principle 
which  is  able  to  purify,  to  renovate,  to 
convert  that  nature ;  in  short,  to  "  CREATE 
THE  NEW  MAN."|  Christianity,  often 
as  its  name  has  been  blazoned  on  the 
banners  of  the  persecutor — Christianity, 
truly  understood,  as  represented  in  the 
writings  of  its  founders,  and  honestly 
applied,  furnishes  a  preventive,  the  only 
permanently  effectual  preventive,  of  the 
spirit  of  persecution.  For,  as  with  fraud- 
ulent, so  it  is  also  with  coercive  measures, 
employed  in  matters  pertaining  to  religion : 
we  must  not  expect  that  the  generality 
will  be  so  far-sighted,  as  always  to  per- 

*  See  Motto.  f  Eph.  iv.  24. 


ceive  their  ultimate  inexpediency  in  each 
particular  case  that  may  occur;  they  will 
be  tempted  to  regard  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances of  this  or  that  emergency  as  con- 
stituting an  exception  to  the  general  rule, 
and  calling  for  a  departure  from  the 
general  principle.  Whereas  the  plainest 
Christian,  when  he  has  once  ascertained, 
as  he  easily  may,  if  he  honestly  consult 
the  Scriptures,  what  the  will  of  God  is, 
in  this  point,  will  walk  boldly  forward 
in  the  path  of  his  duty,  though  he  may 
not  see  at  every  turn  whither  it  is  leading 
him;  and,  with  full  faith  in  the  divine 
wisdom,  will  be  ready  in  pious  confi- 
dence, to  leave  events  in  the  hands  of 
Providence. 

§.  10.  I  will  conclude  this  chapter  with 
a  brief  notice  of  some  mistakes  as  to  the 
real  character  of  persecution,  on  the  op- 
posite side  to  those  formerly  mentioned. 
For  as  some  may  be  in  danger  of  uncon- 
sciously countenancing  persecution,  by 
narrowing  too  much  their  notion  of  what 
it  consists  in,  so  others,  on  the  contrary, 
by  forming  too  wide  a  notion  of  it,  may 
incur  the  opposite  danger  of  comprehend- 
ing under  the  head  of  persecution  what 
does  not  properly  deserve  the  title. 

1.  There  is  not  necessarily  any  thing 
of  the  character  of  persecution  in  doing 
violence  to  a  man's  conscience.  Though 
at  the  first  glance  this  may  be  a  startling 
paradox,  it  is  evident  on  a  moment's  re- 
flection, that  to  admit,  at  once,  and  uni- 
versally, the  plea  of  conscience,  would 
lead  to  the  subversion  of  the  whole  fabric 
of  society.  To  say  nothing  of  the  false 
pleas  which  would  doubtless  be  set  up, 
when  it  was  once  understood  that  all 
were  to  be  admitted,  there  would  be  no 
limit  to  the  possible  aberrations  of  even 
the  sincerely  conscientious.  Some  secta- 
rians have  a  conscientious  scruple  against 
paying  tithes,  on  the  ground  that  they 
disapprove  of  a  hired  ministry.  Not  that 
according  to  the  strict  use  of  language 
the  pastors  of  our  church  are  hired  at  all ; 
nor  the  tithes  paid  by  the  farmer,  since 
they  only  pass  through  his  hands,  allow- 
ance having  been  made  for  them  in  his 
rent;  and  he  no  more  hires  the  minister 
than  he  does  his  landlord.*  But  still,  as  is 

*  I  have  known  a  striking  instance  of  the  con- 
fusion of  thought  resulting  from  inaccuracy  of 
language  on  this  point.  A  farmer  declared  to  a 
friend  of  mine,  that  he  would  not  attend  the 
ministry  of  paid  preachers,  hut  would  listen  to 
them  only  if  they  should  go  forth  like  the  seventy 
disciples  "without  scrip  or  purse,"  &c.  He  did 
not  recollect  that  in  that  case  he  would  have  to 


PERSECUTION. 


75 


well  known,  the  collection  of  tithes  has 
been  complained  of  as  persecution.  On 
much  better  grounds  might  the  same  per- 
sons scruple  to  pay  taxes ;  (which  they 
know  are  employed,  among  other  pur- 
poses, for  the  keeping  up  of  a  military  es- 
tablishment;) since  these  really  are  paid, 
out  of  what  was  before  (which  the  tenth 
sheaf  never  was)  the  payer's  own  property. 
Some  enthusiasts  again,  in  the  present 
day,  have  made  it  a  religious  duty  to  de- 
sert their  wives  and  families,  when  these 
would  not  adopt  their  peculiar  tenets.* 
Others,  such  as  the  ancient  German  Ana- 
baptists, under  the  pretence  that  Christian 
men's  goods  are  common,  might  incite 
their  followers  to  a  general  plunder  of 
those  who  had  property,  that  the  spoil 
might  be  thrown  into  a  common  stock. 
And  some  wild  Millenarians,  like  the  fifth- 
monarchy-men,  might  feel  themselves 
bound  in  conscience  to  overthrow  .all 
governments,  as  the  necessary  preparation 
for  the  temporal  reign  of  Christ  on  earth. 
In  short,  there  is  no  saying  at  what  point 
the  plea  of  conscience,  if  once  admitted 
without  further  question,  would  stop. 
The  only  possible  principle  on  which  we 
must  draw  the  line  is,  that  the  civil  ma- 
gistrate, to  whom  is  committed  the  care 
of  the  temporal  welfare  of  the  community, 
should  interfere  in  those  cases  (and  in 
those  only)  in  which  the  persons  or  pro- 
perty of  the  citizens  are  directly  and  con- 
fessedly concerned.f  I  say  "directly," 
and  u  confessedly,"  because  remotely,  and 
by  inference,  every  religious  system  may 
be  made  out  to  affect  in  some  way  the 
peace  and  well-being  of  the  community. 
There  is,  I  believe,  no  religion  existing, 
respecting  which  I  have  not  seen  an  ela- 
borate proof  that  it  leads  to  mischievous 
consequences  in  practice,  and  that  its  pro- 
fessors are  either  likely  to  be,  or,  con- 
sistently with  their  principles,  ought  to 
be,  the  worse  citizens;  and  again,  I  have 
seen  the  direct  contrary  inferred  respect- 
ing every  one  of  them.  So  that  without 
the  limitation  above  suggested,  there 
would  be  an  opening  left  for  the  forcible 
suppression,  or  for  the  forcible  establish- 
ment, by  the  civil  magistrate,  of  any  reli- 
gion whatever. 

maintain  the  preachers,  who  are  now  supported 
by  endowments.  The  disciples  were  directed, 
wherever  they  went,  to  "  eat  and  drink  such  things 
as  were  set  before  them ;  for  the  labourer  is  worthy 
of  his  hire." 

*  Fact. 

|  «  Render  unto  Csesar  the  things  that  be  Cse- 
sar;s,  and  unto  God  the  things  that  be  God's." 


"  But  is  the  civil  magistrate,"  it  may 
be  said,  "  to  determine  what  are  the  cases 
that  rail  for  his  interference  ?  And  if  so, 
how  can  any  principle  be  laid  down  that 
shall  not  leave  him  an  opening  to  call  in, 
whenever  he  is  so  disposed,  the  aid  of 
the  civil  sword?"  Certainly  this  is  not 
possible.  Coercive  power  must  be  en- 
trusted to  somebody;  nor  can  those  to 
whom  it  is  entrusted  be  withheld  from 
abusing  it,  if  they  are  inclined  to  do,  by 
any  rule  that  can  be  laid  down.  It  is 
notorious,  that  the  Scriptures  furnish  none 
such ;  nor  is  it  possible,  from  the  nature 
of  things,  that  they  should.  He  who  has 
the  power,  and  the  will,  to  do  wrong, 
will  never  be  at  a  loss  for  a  plea  to  justify 
himself,  even  though  he  should  be  driven 
to  maintain  (like  the  wolf  in  the  fable) 
that  a  stream  flows  upwards.  But  my 
object  was,  not  to  lay  down  a  rule  that 
should  preclude  (which  is  impossible) 
one  who  is  seeking  an  evasion,  from  find- 
ing any;  but  to  point  out  the  principle 
which'  should  govern  the  conscience  of 
an  upright  magistrate:  viz.,  to  protect,  by 
coercive  measures  if  necessary,  the  peace, 
the  lives,  and  the  property  of  his  subjects, 
and  to  abstain  from  all  coercion  in  matters 
purely  religious.  But  many  persons  are 
apt  to  conclude,  that  whatever  is  left  to  a 
man's  discretion,  is  left  to  his  arbitrary 
caprice;  and  that  he  who  is  responsible 
only  to  God,  has  no  responsibility  at  all. 

II.  Although,  however,  such  is,  on 
Christian  principles,  the  limitation  of  the 
civil  magistrate's  authority,  there  is  no 
reason  why  the  individual  holding  such 
an  office  should  not  also  be  a  member,  or 
an  officer,  of  a  Christian  church,  provided 
he  is  careful  not  to  blend  together  the 
characters  of  a  political  and  a  religious 
community.  Coercive  means  cannot  suit- 
ably be  employed  for  the  propagation  or 
the  maintenance  of  Christianity ;  but  there 
is  nothing  that  necessarily  goes  to  secu- 
larize the  kingdom  which  is  "  not  of  this 
world,"  or  that  necessarily  implies  the 
spirit  of  intolerance,  in  the  possession,  or 
in  the  exercise,  of  coercive  power  for 
other  purposes,  even  by  a  Christian  pas- 
tor. Only  there  is  the  more  call  for  care 
and  discreet  judgment  in  cases  where  the 
same  individual  has  to  exercise  distinct 
functions,and  especially  if  he  is  thus  made 
to  stand  in  two  or  more  different  relations 
to  the  same  men.  Such,  for  instance,  is 
the  case  where  the  rector  of  a  parish  is 
also  a  justice  of  the  peace.  Even  if  he 
were  so  not  by  an  accidental  appointment, 
but  by  virtue  of  some  fixed  general  regu- 


76 


PERSECUTION. 


lation,  still  he  would  be  exercising,  in 
respect  of  the  same  individuals,  two  dis- 
tinct offices,  regulated  by  different  prin- 
ciples, and  concerned  with  distinct  kinds 
of  subject-matter.  In  the  same  manner, 
if  a  military  officer  should  chance  to  be 
also  a  magistrate,  this  would  not  imply 
his  blending  together  the  principles  of 
martial  law  and  of  common  and  statute- 
law.  So  also  some  kings  or  other  chief 
magistrates  hold  also  ecclesiastical  supre- 
macy ;  some  bishops  have  a  share  in  the 
secular  legislature  :  others  have  princi- 
palities annexed  to  their  sees ;  and  the 
bishop  of  Rome  in  particular  has  long 
been  a  considerable  temporal  sovereign. 

With  respect  to  that  church,  it  is  worth 
remarking,  that  the  persecution  and  the 
other  enormities  with  which  it  has  been 
justly  charged,  have  led  many  of  those 
who  have  renounced  it,  to  blend  together 
confusedly  in  their  thoughts  every  thing 
that  in  any  way  pertains  to  it.  Whereas, 
in  truth,  many  parts  of  the  Romish  sys- 
tem, even  such  as  are  in  themselves  utterly 
indefensible,  have  no  necessary  connexion 
with  each  other,  or  with  Rome.  Her 
usurped  supremacy,  for  instance,  and  her 
false  doctrines,  are  two  distinct  faults; 
the  latter  of  which  is  so  far  from  being 
necessarily  connected  with  the  church  of 
Rome,  that  she  scarcely  differs  at  all  in 
doctrine  from  the  Greek  church. 

And  with  respect  to  the  point  now  be- 
fore us,  let  it  be  supposed,  (and  the  sup- 
position, however  unlikely  to  be  realized, 
is  perfectly  conceivable,)  that  the  pope 
had,  in  respect  of  his  diocess,  proceeded 
on  Christian  principles,  and  in  respect  of 
his  principality,  had  protected  the  civil 
rights  of  his  subjects,  leaving  every  one 
to  exercise  his  own  religion  without  mo- 
lestation, as  long  as  the  temporal  peace 
and  security  of  the  community  remained 
undisturbed: — if,  J  say,  he  had  always 
acted  thus,  as  two  distinct  persons,  it  can- 
not be  maintained,  that  this  state  of  things 
would  have  introduced  any  thing  ap- 
proaching to  a  persecuting  spirit — any 
thing  savouring  of  that  secular  coercion 
which  amounts  to  intolerance,  and  is  at 
variance  with  the  character  of  Christ's 
kingdom. 

The  question  then  respecting  such  a 
union,  of  civil  office  with  spiritual  or  ec- 
clesiastical office,  in  the  same  individual, 
becomes  one  of  mere  expediency;  and 
one  which  of  course  will  vary  in  its  com- 
plexion, according  to  the  circumstances 
of  each  country  or  period.  What  we  are 
at  present  concerned  with  is.  merely  to 


determine  what  does  or  does  not  involve 
the  principle  of  persecution  ;  i.  e.,  the  em- 
ployment or  the  denouncement  of  coercion 
in  matters  of  religion. 

III.  There  is  nothing,  necessarily,  of 
the  spirit  of  persecution  in  a  man's  re- 
quiring his  servants,  or  his  tenants,  or  the 
tradesmen  he  deals  with,  or  all  that  asso- 
ciate with  him,  to  be  pious  characters,  or 
to  be  of  his  own  religious  persuasion  or 
practice,  even  down  to  the  minutest  par- 
ticulars.* This  is  so  evident,  that  it  would 
not  have  needed  being  mentioned,  but 
that  we  are  so  liable  to  have  our  thoughts 
insensibly  led  astray  by  language.|  We 
hear,  for  instance,  of  a  man's  being  com- 
pelled to  adopt  this  or  that  form  of  reli- 
gion, as  a  condition  of  being  in  such-a- 
one's  service,  or  of  obtaining  a  renewal 
of  a  lease ;  and  we  are  thence  liable  to 
forget,  what  is  plain  as  soon  as  we  reflect 
on  it,  that  this  is  not  absolute  compulsion, 
since  it  interferes  with  no  man's  natural, 
or  previously  existing  rights  ;J  and  that 
to  prohibit  such  a  procedure  would  be  an 
interference  with  the  right  of  the  other 
"  to  do  what  he  will  with  his  own." 
Such  a  mode  of  conduct,  as  I  have  been 
alluding  to,  might  indeed  be  carried  to 
such  a  length,  as  justly  to  incur  the  cen- 
sure of  indiscretion — of  bigotry — of  il- 
liberality ;  it  might  be  such  as  even  to  in- 
dicate in  the  individual  a  disposition§ 
which  would  lead  him  to  persecute  if  he 
had  the  power ;  but  still  it  would  not  in 
itself  involve  the  principle  of  persecution. 

The  same  reasoning  will  apply  to  the 
case  of  the  exclusion  from  certain  endow- 
ments of  one  not  belonging  to  the  church 
for  whose  benefit  they  are  designed.  A 
man  is  said  to  be  compelled  to  subscribe 
the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  if  he  would  hold 
a  church  living,  or  a  fellowship :  he  is 
compelled  to  be  a  Presbyterian,  if  he 


*  I  mean,  of  course,  supposing  him  not  to  dis- 
appoint any  expectations  that  may  reasonably 
have  been  formed ;  for  reasonable  expectation  is  a 
ground  of  equitable  right. 

•j-  Elements  of  Logic,  chap.  iii.  §.  5. 
%  I  cannot  but  think,  however,  that  there   is 
ground  of  complaint  when  a  man  cannot  obtain 
his  rights,  whether  those  to  which  all  men  are  en- 
titled by  nature,  or  those  of  the  citizens  of  his  par- 
ticular  community,  without  either   taking  some 
oath,  or  going  through  some  other  religious  cere- 
mony, against  which  he  has  a  conscientious  scru- 
|  pie.     A  special  indulgence  has  been  granted  to 
i  the  Quakers  in  respect  of  oaths  and  the  marriage 
j  service ;  but  if  this  was  reasonable  in  principle,  T 
i  cannot  see  why  the  principle  should  not  have  been 
;  recognized  and  acted  upon  uniformly. 
1      §  See  above,  §.  3.  subsect.  I,  of  this  chapter. 


would  hold  the  office  of  minister  at  a 
Presbyterian  chapel,  &c.  So  also  in  order 
to  obtain  a  degree,  he  must  have  kept 
certain  academical  terms,  and  must  un- 
dergo an  examination  in  certain  prescribed 
branches  of  learning ;  nay,  in  order  to 
hold  a  scholarship  on  some  particular 
foundations,  he  must  be  a  native  of  a  cer- 
tain district;  and  if  he  would  retain  his 
situation,  he  must  remain  unmarried.  It 
is  evident,  on  a  moment's  reflection,  that 
though  we  use  in  such  cases  the  words 
'  must,"  "  obliged,"  «  forced,"  &c.,  all  this 
has  nothing  to  do  with  absolute  coercion.* 
On  the  same  principle  it  may  be  main- 
tained, that  there  is  nothing,  necessarily, 
of  the  character  of  intolerance,  in  pre- 
cluding those  who  are  not  members  of  a 
particular  church  from  having  any  share 
in  legislating  for  that  church,  in  respect 
of  matters  of  a  purely  spiritual  or  ecclesi- 
astical character:  indeed  to  admit  them 
to  such  a  share,  is  a  manifest  anomaly 
and  inconsistency,  though  one  which  may 
sometimes  be  in  practice  unavoidable  or 
insignificant.  That  none  but  Quakers, 
for  instance,  or  Methodists,  have  a  voice 
in  the  general  assemblies  of  Quakers,  or 
of  Methodists,  respectively,  is  so  far  from 
being  at  all  to  be  complained  of  as  sa- 
vouring of  an  intolerant  spirit,  that,  on  the 
contrary,  as  long  as  they  confine  them- 
selves to  matters  exclusively  religious, 
they  would  justly  regard  the  interference 
of  those  not  belonging  to  their  sect  as  a 
violation  of  the  principle  of  toleration. 
And  the  anomaly  is  in  itself  just  as  real, 
whether  in  practice  it  lead  to  the  most 
important  or  the  most  trifling  results  ; — 
whether,  for  instance,  a  majority  of  the 
assembly  which  governs  a  particular 
church,  be  of  a  different  persuasion,  or 
whether  one  single  Roman  Catholic  or 
dissenter  have  a  voice  in  the  election  of 
a  member  of  that  assembly  ,f 

*  See  Appendix  to  Elements  of  Logic  ;  article 
"  Necessary." 

I  Some  are  apt  to  express  themselves  as  if  the 
anomaly  consisted  merely  in  members  of  the 
church  of  Rome  legislating  for  a  Protestant 
church.  Suppose  that  some  particular  descrip- 
tion of  Protestants,  or,  if  you  will,  that  all  Pro- 
testants, are  more  pure  in  their  faith — less  dan- 
gerous in  their  principles — less  hostile  to  our 
church — than  the  Romanists  ;  still  the  question 
remains  the  same,  what  has  any  man  to  do  with 
the  regulations  of  a  church  he  does  not  belong  to] 

But  some  persons  are  even  accustomed  to  speak 
of  "  the  Protestant  religion,"  and  even  of  "  the 
Protestant  church,"  without  reflecting  whether 
there  are  any  such  things,  or  whether  they  are 
employing  words  without  any  distinct  meaning. 


PERSECUTION.  77. 

But  then,  it  may  be  said,  if  it  so  happen 
(as  is  the  case  among  us  in  practice, 
though  not  by  original  appointment,  ac- 
cording to  the  theory  of  the  constitution, 
and  early  usage*)  that  the  assembly, 
which  alone  exercises  the  right  of  legislat- 
ing for  the  church,  in  all  matters,  is  also 
the  supreme  legislating  body  in  secular 
concerns;  does  it  not  savour  of  intole- 
rance to  exclude,  by  a  test-law,  from  such 
an  assembly,  or  from  voting  for  those 
who  are  to  sit  in  it,  men  otherwise  quali- 
fied ?  Granted  that  they  have  nothing  to 
do  with  the  internal  regulations  of  a 
church  to  which  they  do  not  belong; 
the  same  cannot  be  said  of  the  taxes  im- 
posed, and  the  laws  enacted,  by  that  same 
assembly.  In  despotic  countries,  indeed, 
the  people  have  nothing  to  do  with  the 
taxes,  but  to  pay  them,  or  with  the  laws, 
but  to  submit  to  them :  but  in  a  free  coun- 
try, it  cannot  be  maintained,  that  to  pre- 
clude from  all  share  in  legislating,  or  in 
appointing  legislators,  in  secular  matters, 
one  who  is  not  disqualified,  in  respect  of 
that  particular  branch  of  business,  does 
not  deprive  him  of  any  of  his  rights,  or 
that  it  is  not  as  great  an  anomaly  as  to 
admit  him  to  interfere  in  church  matters 
in  respect  of  which  he  is  disqualified. 

Such  are,  in  the  abstract,  the  conflict- 
ing difficulties  in  the  case.  It  is  as  if  a 
man  should  put  in  an  equitable  claim  to 
a  house,  some  parts  of  which  are  con- 
fessedly none  of  his ;  or  to  a  piece  of 
land,  on  which  there  are  buildings  erected, 
to  which  he  has  no  right.  The  problem, 
to  keep  clear  of  both  of  these  opposite 
anomalies,  has  not,  I  think,  yet  been 
solvedf;  nor  has  it,  I  think,  hitherto 


Dr.  Hawkins,  I  am  happy  to  find,  has  fore- 
stalled me  in  part  of  this  remark.     "  The  term 

<  Protestant,'  when  it  denotes  a  member  of  one  of 
the  western  churches  who  is  free  from  Romish 
error,  is  merely  a  term  of  convenience.      It  may 
be  employed  perhaps  with  little  regard  to  history 
or  etymology  ;  but  it  answers  its  intended  purpose, 
and  it  does  no  harm.     Not  so,  such  a  phrase  as 

<  the  Protestant  religion.'     The  very  expression, 
whenever  it  is  not  evidently  synonymous  with 
'  the  religion  of   the  Protestant  church  of  Eng- 
land,' implies  inattention  to  the  fact,  that  there  is 
no  one  religion  common  to  Protestants  as  con- 
tradistinguished from  the  Romanists  ;  and  it  tends 
to  throw  a  veil  over  another  important  fact,  that 
the  creeds  of  certain  Protestant  sects  are  far  more 
remote  than  that  of  the  church  of  Rome  from  the 
truth  of  the  Gospel."     Sermon  preached  at  Mai- 
don,  p.  6. 

*  See  Field's  work  on  Church  Government, 
f  It  ought  to  be  mentioned,  in  justice  to  Mr. 
Wilmot  Horton,  that  he  is  one  of  the  few  persons 


78 


PERSECUTION. 


been  generally  contemplated  with  suffi- 
cient clearness  and  steadiness  to  allow 
of  a  fair  trial,  whether  it  can  be  solved  or 
not :  though  about  thirty  years  ago  steps 
began  to  be  taken  with  a  view  to  the 
practical  adjustment  of  the  difficulties. 
My  object  in  touching  upon  the  question 
at  present  is  no  more  than,  (confining 
myself  to  the  proper  topics  of  this  work,) 
to  point  out  in  what  relation  that  question 
stands  to  the  subject  of  the  present 
chapter.* 

IV.  Lastly?  there  is  nothing,  necessarily, 
of  intolerance,  in  protecting,  by  coercive 
means,  if  needful,  the  professors  of  any 
religion,  against  violence  or  plunder,  dis- 
turbance to  their  religious  meetings,  insult, 
libel,  or  any  other  such  molestation,  from 
those  of  an  adverse  party.  Such  protec- 
tion is  so  far  from  being  at  variance  with 
the  principles  above  laid  down,  that  it  is 
an  application  of  them.  It  is  not  perse- 
cution, but  the  prevention  of  persecution. 
For  lawless  and  irregular  outrage  is  not, 
for  that  reason,  the  less  of  the  character 
of  persecution;  and  the  unauthorized 
cruelties  of  the  people  were,  we  may  be 
sure,  among  the  severest  trials  the  early 


who  have  seen  and  fairly  met  the  difficulty.  T 
cannot  but  think  indeed,  that  according  to  his 
scheme,  (see  "  Protestant  Securities,")  other  diffi- 
culties would  have  arisen,  in  the  practical  adjust- 
ment of  the  questions  as  to  each  measure,  whether 
it  concerned  the  church  only,  or  affected  also  the 
property  and  civil  rights  of  the  community. 
Still,  he  seems  to  have  fixed  on  the  right  prin- 
ciple {  which  might,  I  should  think,  by  some  con- 
trivance or  other,  have  been  adapted  to  practice. 
At  least  the  main  objection  usually  alleged  against 
his  proposal,  that  it  would  constitute  in  fact  two 
legislative  assemblies  for  two  distinct  branches  of 
legislation,  has  always  appeared  to  me  its  chief 
recommendation.  The  distribution  of  the  several 
offices  among  the  several  ministers  of  state,  viz., 
chancellor  of  the  exchequer,  secretary  for  the 
home  department — for  foreign  affairs,  &c.,  is 
open  to  the  same  objection. 

*  I  have  alluded  merely  to  the  grant  to  Roman 
Catholics  of  the  elective  franchise,  and  to  thesus- ! 
pension  of  the  operation  of  the  test-law  for  ex- 
cluding dissenters,  because  in  these  consisted  the  [ 
anomaly,  which  alone  it  is  for  my  present  purpose  ! 
to  treat  of.     As  for  the  greater  or  less  political 
danger  of  any  of  the  measures  subsequently  pro-  i 
posed  or  adopted,  it  would  be  foreign  to  the  pur- 
pose of  the  present  work  to  enter  on  the  discussion 
of  these,  or  any  other,  political  questions.     Whe- 
ther it  were  a  safer  course  to  leave  the  test-law  ! 
dormant,  or  formally  to  repeal  it — to  confine  the 
Roman  Catholic  electors  to  the  choice  of  a  Pro- 
testant representative,  or  to  leave  them  at  liberty  \ 
to  elect  one  of  their  own  persuasion — these,  and 
all  such  questions  of  political  expediency,  I  pass 
by,  as  not  properly  connected  with  the  matter  in 
hand.  » 


Christians  had  to  undergo.  And  yet 
there  are  some  persons  who  are  ready  to 
denounce  as  persecuting,  every  system 
which  does  not  leave  them  at  liberty  to 
persecute  others. 

It  must  not  be  forgotten,  however,  that 
when  the  religion,  in  behalf  of  which  the 
civil  magistrate  has  been  driven  to  interfere, 
happens  to  be  his  own,  he  will  be  strongly 
tempted  not  to  stop  short  at  measures 
of  mere  immediate  self-defence,  but  to 
take  what  will  seem  the  effectual  step,  of 
putting  down  altogether  the  hostile  party. 

To  guard  against  overstepping  the 
proper  line  of  procedure  in  this  matter, 
and  also  to  decide  on  what  occasions  the 
appeal  to  the  interference  of  the  civil 
power  is  not  only  justifiable,  but  expe- 
dient also,  are  points  which  must,  in  each 
particular  instance,  be  left  to  the  head 
and  the  heart  of  each  individual.  Ge- 
neral principles  may  be  sketched  out; 
but  there  can  be  none  that  will  teach 
their  own  application,  or  supersede  the 
exercise  of  practical  good  sense,  cautious 
deliberation,  and  Christian  candour. 

It  may  be  worth  while,  however,  to  ob- 
serve, in  conclusion,  how  important  it  is 
always  to  keep  in  mind,  that  the  CROSS 
which  our  Master  and  his  apostles  bore  so 
meekly,  our  proud  nature  strongly  impels 
us  to  refuse,  whenever  we  can,  by  any 
means  whatsoever,  avoid  it.  We  arc 
tempted  to  admire  at  a  distance,  while  we 
revolt  at  the  thought  of  copying,  their 
patience  under  calumny  and  derision,  and 
every  kind  of  provocation.  And,  what  is 
more,  this  pride  of  the  human  heart  is  apt 
to  disguise  itself  to  our  conscience  under 
the  appearance  of  piety ;  we  are  in  dan- 
ger, I  mean,  of  regarding  as  zeal  for  God's 
honour,  what  is,  perhaps,  in  truth,  rather 
zeal  for  our  own  honour.  He  who  does 
but  reject  our  faith  implies,  as  I  have  ob- 
served above,  something  affronting  to  our- 
selves ;  much  more,  if  he  slander  and  in- 
sult us  for  maintaining  it :  and  it  is  from 
this  cause  that  we  are  prone  to  feel  greater 
indignation  at  such  conduct,  than  at  the 
equal  affront  offered  to  God  by  those  who 
acknowledge  his  claim,  while  in  their 
lives  they  habitually  disregard  it,  to  their 
love,  gratitude,  veneration,  and  obedience. 
But  yet,  as  every  one  who  insults  us  on 
account  of  our  religion,  does  by  so  doing 
insult  that  religion  itself,  we  are  likely  to 
flatter  ourselves  that  this  last  is  the  sole 
ground  of  our  indignation ;  when  in  fact, 
perhaps,  our  personal  feelings  have  a 
great  share  in  it. 

But  we  must  not  expect,  till  the  church 


TRUST  IN  NAMES  AND  PRIVILEGES. 


79 


militant  is  exchanged  for  the  church  tri- 
umphant, that  Christ's  devoted  followers 
will  have  no  cross  to  bear,  or  that  they 
will  encounter  no  opposition  or  molesta- 
tion from  his  enemies.  At  least,  till  the 
world,  even  what  is  called  the  Christian 
world,  shall  have  become  much  more  im- 
bued with  the  spirit  of  Christianity  than 
it  ever  has  been  yet,  our  Lord's  warnings 
to  his  disciples  must  be  regarded  as  in 
some  degree  applicable  to  us:  "If  the 
world  hate  you,  ye  know  that  it  hated  me 
before  it  hated  you  .  .  .  because  ye  are 
not  of  the  world,  therefore  the  world 
hateth  you."  The  Christian  who  is  steady 
and  unshrinking,  and  active  in  his  master's 
cause,  though  it  is  his  duty  not  wantonly 
to  provoke  obloquy  and  opposition  by  any 
indiscreet  or  violent  conduct,  yet  must 
not  expect  always  to  escape  such  mortifi- 
cations 5  and  he  should  be  prepared  so  to 
meet  them,  as  to  show  how  far  beyond 
'•  the  praise  of  men"  he  prizes  the  appro- 
bation of  him  "  who  seeth  in  secret." 

Still,  cases  may  undoubtedly  occur,  in 
which  it  will  be  our  right  and  our  duty  to 
use  means  for  protecting  ourselves  or 
others,  against  lawless  aggression.  No 
rule,  as  I  have  said,  can  be  laid  down, 
which  will  supersede  the  exercise  of  a 


sound  and  unbiassed  judgment,  for  decid- 
j  ing  in  each  particular  instance  whether  it 
I  is  allowable  and  advisable  to  call   in  the 
j  aid  of  the  secular  arm   for  the  protection 
j  of  the  professors  of  religion.     The  right 
medium,  says  the  great  master  of  ancient 
moralists,  must  be  fixed  in  each  particular 
|  instance  by  each  man's  discretion  :  but  he 
•  proceeds  to  give  the  best  general  caution 
that  can  be  supplied  ;  viz.,  to  lean  always 
towards  the  safer  side ;  ever  avoiding  the 
!  more   sedulously  the  worse  extreme,  and 
[  regarding  that  as  the  worse  to  which  we 
;  are  by  nature  the  more  prone*     On  this 
!  principle  we  should  always,  in  respect  of 
any    matters    connected   with    our    reli- 
gion, be  more  willing  to  have  it  asked, 
why  we  do  not,  than  why  we  do  resort  to 
the  aid  of  the  civil  power. 

And  even  when  we  have  fully  deter- 
mined what  procedure  is  in  itself  right, 
we  must  be  still  watchful  over  our  own 
heart,  subjecting  our  motives  to  the  se- 
verest scrutiny,  and  taking  care  that  we 
do  not  inwardly  applaud  and  sanctify  in 
our  own  eyes,  as  a  virtuous  jealousy  for 
God's  glory,  what  may  be  in  reality 
chiefly  a  regard  for  our  own  credit,  and 
a  tenderness  for  our  own  ease  and  com- 
fort. 


CHAP.  VI. 
TRUST    IN    NAMES    AND    PRIVILEGES. 


§.  1.  MANKIND  have  a  natural  tendency 
to  pride  themselves  on  the  advantages  they 
enjoy — on  the  privileges  they  possess — on 
the  titles  they  bear  as  badges  of  those 
privileges — and  especially  on  their  being 
members  of  any  society  or  class  endowed 
with  such  privileges.  And  they  are  dis- 
posed not  only  to  feel  a  pride  and  satis- 
faction in  possessing  such  advantages,  but 
also  carelessly  to  put  their  trust  in  these, 
independently  of  the  use  made  of  them, 
as  necessarily  implying  some  superior  be- 
nefit to  the  possessor. 

How  strongly  this  tendency  operated 
among  the  Jews  of  old,  we  have  ample 
proof  in  the  Bible.  Even  under  the  old 
dispensation  we  may  gather  from  the 
writings  of  the  prophets,  that  in  spite  of 
their  numberless  backslidings,  they  still 
flattered  themselves  that,  as  the  Lord's 
chosen  and  peculiar  people,  and  as  having 
among  them  the  only  temple  of  the  true 
God,  he  would  not  execute  on  them  the 
judgments  he  had  denounced.  And  when 


their  captivity  and  the  destruction  of  their 
temple  had  undeceived  them  in  this  point, 
they  still  clung  to  the  hope  of  the  pro- 
mised Messiah  to  arise  from  among  them, 
and  who  should  restore  "  all  things."  In 
this  hope,  indeed,  they  were  not  errone- 
ous ;  but  their  error  was,  in  trusting  that 
they  should  surely  be  partakers  of  the 
promised  benefits,  by  virtue  of  their  pri- 
vilege as  Abraham's  children,  of  the  stock 
of  his  chosen  descendant  Judah,  whatever 
might  be  their  own  conduct ;  and  that  no 
such  change  of  dispensation  could  take 
place  as  should  put  even  the  least  deserv- 
ing Jew  below,  or  even  on  a  level  with,  the 
best  of  the  unclean  and  despised  race  of 
the  Gentiles. 

Accordingly,  John  the  Baptist  takes  oc- 
casion to  warn  them  on  this  head  at  the 
opening  of  his  ministry:  "Now  is  the 
axe  laid  to  the  root  of  the  tree  :  every  tree 
therefore  that  bringeth  not  forth  good 

*  Arist.  Eth.  b.  ii.  ch.  9. 


TRUST  IN  NAMES  AND  PRIVILEGES. 


fruit,  is  hewn  down,  and  cast  into  the  fire. 
And  think  not  to  say  within  yourselves, 
we  have  Abraham  to  our  father ;  for  I  say 
unto  you,  that  God  is  able  of  these  stones 
to  raise  up  children  unto  Abraham."  The 
Apostle  Paul  in  like  manner  is  compelled 
incessantly  to  warn  the  Jewish  believers, 
that  "  there  is  no  difference"  between 
the  Jewish  and  the  Greek  Christian,  in- 
asmuch as  "  all  have  sinned  and  come 
short  of  the  glory  of  God  ;" — that  there 
is  "  neither  Jew  nor  Greek — neither  bar- 
barian, Scythian,  bond,  or  free ;"  and  that 
"in  Christ  Jesus  neither  circumcision  nor 
uncircumcision  profiteth  any  thing,  but  a 
new  creature;"  and  that  the  believing 
Gentiles  are  adopted  as  equally  God's 
children,  and  heirs  of  his  promises,  no 
less  than  the  natural  descendants  of  Abra- 
ham. 

Nor  is  he  merely  warning  Christians 
that  God  is  "  no  respecter  of  persons," 
(as  it  had  been  first  revealed  to  Peter,)  I 
and  that  "  in  every  nation  he  that  feareth 
him,  and  worketh  righteousness,  is  ac-  I 
cepted  of  him" — not  only  are  the  workers  : 
of  righteousness  cautioned  against  sup- 
posing that  the  Jews  by  nature,  or  the  ad- 
herents to  the  ceremonial  law,  were  to 
obtain  a  higher  share  of  divine  favour; 
but,  what  may  seem  more  strange,  the 
apostle  finds  it  necessary  to  guard  them 
against  the  error  of  trusting  in  the  circum- 
stance of  being  under  the  law,  independ- 
ently of  the  observance  of  it;  as  if  a  cer- 
tain degree,  at  least,  of  divine  favour  was 
secured  by  the  mere  circumstance  of  hav- 
ing received  by  revelation  the  divine  com- 
mands, even  though  they  were  not  careful 
to  obey  them.  The  greater  part  of  the 
early  portion  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans 
is  taken  up  in  combating  this  strange  de- 
lusion: he  assures  them,  that  "not  the 
hearers  of  the  law  are  just  before  God, 
but  the  doers  of  the  law  shall  be  justified :" 
"behold,"  says  he,  "  thou  art  called  a 
Jew,  and  restest  in  the  law,  and  makest 
thy  boast  of  God ;"  and  yet  these  same 
persons  he  speaks  of  as  dishonouring 
God,  by  breaking  the  law  in  which  they 
made  their  boast,  so  notoriously,  that  the 
name  of  God  was  "  blasphemed  among 
the  Gentiles  through  them." 

§.  2.  A  like  error  seems  to  have  pre- 
vailed no  less  among  the  early  Christians 
generally,  in  respect  of  the  pride  and  vain- 
confidence  with  which  they  regarded  their 
privileges  as  Christians.  The  apostle 
warns  them  in  the  same  epistle,  that  as 
the  natural  branch  (i.  e.  the  Israelites  alter 
the  flesh)  had  been  broken  off,  and  they 


grafted  in,  so  a  like  severity  was  to  be 
expected  by  them  also,  as  God  had  ex- 
ercised towards  the  disobedient  among 
his  favoured  people  of  old,  if,  instead  of 
making  the  best  use  of  his  mercies,  they 
were  high-minded — puffed  up,  i.  e.,  with 
boastful  confidence  in  their  peculiar  privi- 
leges, and  neglectful  of  the  peculiar  re- 
sponsibility these  imposed.  "  If  God," 
he  admonishes  them,  "  spared  not  the 
natural  branches,  take  heed  lest  he  also 
spare  not  thee."  And  in  the  same  tone 
he  warns  the  Corinthians  not  to  rely  in 
security  on  their  being  God's  elect  people, 
from  the  example  of  the  Israelites,  who 
were  also,  all  of  them,  "  God's  elect,"* 
yet  of  whom  one  whole  generation  were 
cut  off,  by  various  judgments,  in  the  wil- 
derness, for  their  disobedience :  the  his- 
tory of  these  things,  he  says,  was  "  writ- 
ten for  our  admonition ;  wherefore  let 
him  that  thinketh  he  standeth  take  heed 
lest  he  fall."  And  the  Apostle  Jude  again 
seems  to  apprehend  the  same  danger  for 
those  he  is  addressing,  and  cautions  them 
by  the  same  example,  "how  the  Lord 
after  having  saved  the  people  out  of  the 
land  of  Egypt,  afterwards  destroyed  them 
that  believed  not." 

And  as,  in  the  first  ages  of  Christianity, 
Christians  were  likely  to  feel  this  proud 
confidence  in  that  title,  as  distinguished 
from  unbelieving  Jews  and  Pagans,  so, 
the  same  feeling  was  likely  afterwards  to 
show  itself,  in  another  form,  among  those 
who  were  characterized  as  orthodox  and 
catholic  Christians,  in  contradistinction 
from  heretics,  whose  tenets  had  been  con- 
demned by  the  general  voice  of  the  Chris- 
tian churches.  How  strongly  this  feeling 
prevailed,  and  still  prevails,  in  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Romish  church,  every  one  is 
well  aware  :  but  the  circumstance  to  which 
I  wish  to  direct  attention  is,  in  conformity 
with  the  views  already  taken  in  the  pre- 
sent work,  that  such  a  feeling  is  not 
peculiar  to  Romanists  as  such,  but  origi- 
nates in  our  common  nature,  and  conse- 
quently is  one  from  which  no  one  who 
partakes  of  that  nature  can  be  exempt, 
without  perpetual  watchfulness.  The 
Mahometans,  as  is  well  known,  partake 
largely  of  this  spirit ;  and  even  those  of 
them  who  are  habitual  transgressors  of 
their  law,  still  flatter  themselves  that  some 
superior  degree  of  divine  favour  is  reserved 
for  them  as  "true  believers,"  beyond  what 
can  be  expected  by  the  best  of  those  who 
are  strangers  to  the  Koran :  while  the 

*  Essay  III.     Second  Series. 


TRUST  IN  NAMES  AND  PRIVILEGES. 


81 


author  of  our  faith,  on  the  contrary,  teaches 
us  that  he  will  reject  as  utter  strangers  to 
him  those  who  are  ready  to  make  their 
boast  in  his  name,  and  to  plead  that  they 
have  even  u  done  many  mighty  works  in 
that  name :"  and  the  knowledge  of  his 
Gospel  he  represents  as  bringing  aggra- 
vated condemnation  to  such  as  do  not 
live  a  Christian  life ;  since  "  the  servant 
who  knew  his  Lord's  will,  and  did  it  not, 
shall  be  beaten  with  many  stripes." 

§.  3.  In  order  to  profit  as  we  may  do 
by  the  example  of  the  Romanists,  and 
even  of  the  Mahometans,  we  must  waive, 
for  the  time,  all  questions  concerning  the 
unsoundness  of  their  tenets,  and  confine 
our  view  to  the  danger  which  is  common 
to  men  of  all  persuasions,  whether  essen- 
tially correct,  or  contaminated  with  more 
or  less  of  error.  If  Mahomet  had  been  a 
true  prophet,  as  Moses  was,  this  would 
not  have  secured  his  followers  from  the 
fault  into  which  the  disciples  of  Moses 
did  in  fact  fall ;  viz.,  that  of  expecting  to 
be  saved  by  their  privileges,  rather  than 
by  the  use  made  of  them.  And  if  the 
Romanists  were  following  in  their  system 
of  doctrine  and  discipline,  not  the  dictates 
of  weak  or  wicked  men,  but  those  of  a 
truly  infallible  apostle,  this  would  not 
alone  secure  them  from  the  very  error 
which  the  apostles  themselves  found 
perpetually  springing  up  among  their 
converts,  even  in  their  own  lifetime ;  the 
tendency  to  substitute  the  means  of  grace 
for  the  fruits  of  grace  ; — the  proud  con- 
fidence of  belonging  to  a  certain  holy 
community,  church,  sect,  or  party  which 
must  secure  an  especial  share  of  divine 
favour  to  every  member  of  it. 

If,  on  the  contrary,  we  dwell  on  the 
groundlessness  of  the  claim  of  the  Romish 
church  to  be  the  only  true  and  Catholic 
church,  and  on  the  doctrinal  errors  into 
which  that  church  has  fallen,  we  shall  of 
course  be  likely  to  flatter  ourselves,  as 
Protestants  are  apt  to  do,  that  our  abhor- 
rence of  that  church  exempts  us  from  all 
danger  of  vainly  trusting  in  a  name,  and 
in  our  connexion  with  a  highly  endowed 
society. 

It  is  true  that  the  Romish  church  has 
erred  in  many  essential  points ;  but  no- 
thing probably  has  more  contributed  to 
lead  her  into  those  errors  than  reliance 
on  names  and  privileges.  Spiritual  ad- 
vantages which  are  real,  and  titles  which 
are  not  misapplied,  may  be  made  subjects 
of  presumptuous  boast,  and  may  thus  lead 
to  indolent  security  with  respect  to  per- 
sonal exertion ;  this  is  usually  the  first 
11 


error  men  fall  into  :  the  second  naturally 
springs  out  of  this  carelessness  ;  the  name, 
that  is,  survives  the  thing  signified; — the 
advantages  are  actually  lost,  either  wholly 
or  in  part,  through  a  confident  reliance  on 
their  intrinsic  efficacy,  without  an  endea- 
vour to  improve  them ; — the  land  which 
was  fertile,  becomes  a  desert,  through  a 
confident  trust  that  it  will  ensure  wealth 
to  the  possessor,  while  he  neglects  to 
till  it. 

A  familiar  illustration  of  the  tendency 
I  have  been  speaking  of  is  afforded  by 
the  parallel  case  of  academical  institutions. 
To  be  a  member  of  a  learned  body  is  re- 
garded as  an  honour ;  it  affords  to  the 
individual  facilities  for  the  acquirement  of 
learning;  and,  to  others,  some  degree  of 
presumption  that  he  has  used  his  advan- 
tages. How  many  accordingly  pride 
themselves  on  being  members  of  such  a 
society,  and  on  the  title  which  denotes 
this,  while  they  think  little  of  acquiring 
the  learning  and  using  the  advantages, 
which  alone  give  to  the  name,  and  to  the 
society,  their  value. 

All  this  has  been  strikingly  illustrated 
in  the  progressive  history  of  the  church 
of  Rome.  She  was  built  by  apostles  on 
Jesus  Christ,  the  only  true  foundation ; 
she  was  left  by  them  with  sound  doc- 
trines and  pure  Christian  worship;  her 
members  were  cautioned  by  them  not  to 
be  "high-minded,  but  fear;"  not  to  rely 
on  the  divine  favour  as  a  reason  for  re- 
laxing personal  exertions,  but  as  an 
encouragement  to  make  them ;  or  to  exult 
in  their  deliverance  from  heathen  super- 
stition, and  their  adoption  in  place  of  the 
disobedient,  to  be  the  people — the  chosen 
people — of  God,  but  to  take  warning  from 
the  example  of  his  mercy  combined  with 
severity. 

But  they  were  seduced  from  humble 
vigilance  into  a  proud  and  careless  reli- 
ance on  the  greatness  of  their  privileges, 
till  they  even  lost  the  talent  which  they 
had  neglected  to  employ.  What  was 
.their  condition  at  the  close  of  the  apostles' 
ministry  ?  They  had  renounced  idol- 
atry ; — they  worshipped  the  true  God ; 
— they  had  the  sacred  Scriptures,  the 
words  of  eternal  life,  in  their  hands,  for 
private  study,  and  in  their  ears,  at  their 
religious  meetings ; — they  had  the  means 
of  grace  among  them,  the  ordinances  ap- 
pointed by  Christ,  which  are  strictly 
called  the  sacraments,  and  public  joint 
worship,  itself  of  a  sacramental  charac- 
ter;— they  had  learned  to  despise  and 
abhor  the  superstitious  offerings,  purifi- 


82 


TRUST  IN  NAMES  AND  PRIVILEGES. 


cations,  and  other  ceremonies  of  the 
heathen,  and  had  been  taught  to  trust  in 
the  atonement  of  Christ  alone,  and  to 
seek  for  acceptance  before  God,  by  being 
"led  by  his  Spirit."  All  these  were  real 
and  inestimable  privileges,  and  gave  them 
just  reason  for  rejoicing  (but  for  rejoicing 
in  trembling  gratitude,  and  not  with  care- 
less pride)  in  the  deliverance  that  had 
been  wrought  for  them — in  their  happy 
condition  as  contrasted  with  that  of  their 
Pagan  neighbours. 

But  their  exultation  in  these  advantages 
led  them  first  to  neglect,  and  in  the  end 
to   lose  them ;  their  vain  confidence  in 
names,  led  them  first  to  forget,  and  after- 
wards   to  forfeit,  the  things  which    the ! 
names  denoted.     Their  minds  were  fixed 
on  what  was  past — on  what   had   been 
done  for  them,  and  withdrawn   from   a ! 
vigilant  attention  to  the  future — from  dili-  j 
gence  on  their  part  to  "  make  their  calling 
and  election  sure."  Confident  in  the  titles  : 
of  Christian — of  Orthodox — of  Catholic  | 
— of  the  Church  of  God — and  careless  of 
living  "  as  lecomelh  saints,"  they  trusted 
that  no  deadly  error  could  creep  into  so  < 
holy  a  community,  and  adopted,  one  by  I 
one,  the  very  errors  (under  new  names)  of  | 
the  Paganism  which  had  been  renounced;  j 
thanking  God,  like  the  Pharisee,  that  they 
were  "  not  as  other  men  are,"  they  became  I 
gradually  like    their   heathen    ancestors,  j 
with    the   aggravation  of  having   sinned 
against  light,  and  abused  their  peculiar 
advantages ;  and  their  confidence  all  the 
while  increasing  along  with  their  care-  \ 
lessness  and  corruption,  when  their  "  gold  | 
was  become  dross,"  they  boasted  more  i 
than  ever  of  their  wealth,  and  in  the  midst ! 
of  their  grossest  errors  insisted  on  com-  j 
plete  infallibility.     And  to  what  did  all 
this  at  length  bring  them?  How  far  did  j 
they  ultimately  depart  from  their  primitive 
purity?    "How  did  the  faithful  city  be- 
come a  harlot  ?"    They  ended   in   over- 
laying Christianity,  one  by  one,  with  the 
very   errors   and   superstitions    (in    sub- 
stance) from   which  the  first  Christians 
exulted  in  being  delivered. 

Idolatry  of  the  grossest  kind  was  gra- 
dually restored :  the  worshippers   of  the  ! 
one  true  God  manifested  in  Christ  Jesus, ' 
paid,  practically,  their  chief  adoration  to 
deified  mortals :  the  Scriptures  were  se- 
cluded from  the  people  under  the  veil  of 
an  unknown  tongue,*  and  their  interpre- 

*  A  language,  be  it  remembered,  which  gra- 
dually became  obsolete  :  for  no  church  ever  intro- 
duced the  use  of  an  unknown  tongue,  in  its 
prayers,  or  recital  of  Scripture. 


tation  fettered,  and  their  authority  super- 
seded, even  with  the  learned,  by  a  mass 
of  traditions  which  made  the  word  of 
God  of  none  effect;  their  sacraments  be- 
came superstitious  charms;  their  public 
worship  a  kind  of  magic  incantation  mut- 
tered in  a  dead  language;  and  Christian 
holiness  of  life  was  commuted  for  holy 
water — for  fantastic  penances,  pilgrimages, 
amulets,  pecuniary  donations,  and  a  whole 
train  of  superstitious  observances,  worthy 
of  Paganism  in  its  worst  forms.  "  How 
is  the  faithful  city  become  a  harlot!" 
They  trusted  in  privileges  and  names,  till 
the  privileges  were  lost,  and  the  names 
became  an  empty  sound.  But  still  they 
are  as  proud  of  them  as  ever.  They  dis- 
tinguish themselves  by  the  title  of  Catho- 
lics,* members  of  the  true  church — ad- 
herents to  the  ancient  faith:  nay,  even 
Christians  is  a  title  by  which  on  the  con- 
tinent they  distinguish  themselves  from 
those  heretics,|  as  tnev  term  them,  who 
chiefly  differ  from  themselves  in  trusting 
in  Christ  as  the  one  Mediator,  instead  of 
a  host  of  pretended  saints.  Such  mon- 
strous corruptions  could  never  have  been 
introduced  into  any  church  by  the  arts  of 
a  worldly  and  ambitious  hierarchy,  had 
not  the  individual  members  of  it  been 
lulled  into  false  security,  by  boastfully 
contemplating  their  Christian  privileges, 
instead  of  dwelling  on  the  additional  re- 
sponsibility these  privileges  create ;  by 
priding  themselves  on  names,  without  be- 
stowing a  watchful  attention  on  the  things 
those  names  denote. 

§.  4.  The  warning  of  the  apostle,  in 
his  Epistle  to  this  very  church,  they  ne- 
glected, and  imitated  the  very  example  by 
which  he  warned  them — that  of  the  pre- 
sumptuous and  disobedient  Jews  of  old. 
The  admonitions,  I  say,  of  Paul  to  the 
church  of  Rome  were  lost  on  the  suc- 
ceeding generations  of  that  church  :  shall 
they  be  also  lost  on  us?  Or  shall  we  say 
that  Protestants  have  no  need  of  them, 
because  we  do  not  trust  in  the  title  of 
Catholic,  or  in  being  members  of  an  in- 
fallible church  ; — because  we  have  pro- 
tested against  the  usurpations  of  that 
church,  and  have  renounced  her  corrup- 
tions ?  The  apostle  might  reply  to  us,  if 
he  lived  in  these  days,  "  Be  not  high- 
minded,  but  fear :  those  whom  I  then  ad- 
dressed were  in  the  very  same  situation 

*  See  note  [A]  in  the  Appendix,  p.  86. 

|  Those  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Vandois, 
in  particular,  distinguish  themselves  from  the 
members  -of  that  pure  and  ancient  church,  by  the 
distinguishing  appellation  of  Christians. 


TRUST  IN  NAMES  AND  PRIVILEGES. 


as  you :  they  were  the  reformed — the 
Protestants  of  their  day ;  they  had  been 
delivered  from  Jewish  and  Pagan  infi- 
delity, as  you  have  been  from  Romish 
corruptions  of  Christianity;  they  prided 
themselves  on  that  deliverance,  as  you 
are  liable  to  do,  on  yours  :  they  felt  con- 
fident that  they  were  in  no  danger  of 
precisely  the  same  errors  as  those  of  the 
infidel  Jews  and  heathen  idolaters,  and 
they  incorporated  into  Christianity  sub- 
stantially the  same  errors,  under  different 
names ;  they  have  fallen  from  their  first 
faith;  and  are  left  with  the  candle  of 
God's  word  darkened,  and  their  minds 
bewildered  by  the  false  light  of  a  delusive 
superstition :  if  God  spared  not  this  branch, 
take  heed  lest  he  also  spare  not  thee :  be- 
hold, therefore,  the  goodness  and  the  se- 
verity of  God ;  on  them  which  fell,  se- 
verity; but  toward  thee,  goodness,  if  thou 
continue  in  his  goodness;  otherwise  thou 
also  shalt  be  cut  off." 

The  examples  which  are  adduced  from 
the  cases  of  those  in  different  ages  and 
countries  from  our  own,  are  apt  to  lose 
their  instructive  force,  from  the  very  cir- 
cumstance Munich  ought  to  make  them  the 
more  instructive ;  viz.,  that  there  will 
always  be  some,  if  not  essential,  yet  cir- 
cumstantial, difference  between  the  tempta- 
tions which  arise,and  the  errors  which  pre- 
vail, among  different  sets  of  men.  Hence, 
we  are  apt  to  lose  sight  of  the  substantial 
agreement  between  two  cases,  and  to  de- 
rive no  profit  from  the  recorded  faults  of 
others,  because  those  to  which  we  are 
liable,  are  not  the  same  in  name,  and  in 
all  the  accompanying  circumstances.  Yet 
this  very  difference  proves  that  they  were 
not  copied,  the  one  from  the  other,  but 
originate  in  a  common  and  deep-seated 
source ;  it  would  enable  us  to  draw  the 
more  instruction  from  such  examples,  if 
we  would  but  remember  that  man's  na- 
ture is  always,  and  every  where,  substan- 
tially the  same;  because  we  view  with  a 
more  impartial  eye  such  errors  as  do  not 
precisely  resemble  what  prevail  among 
|_purselves.  For  these  reasons,  the  back- 
slidings  of  the  Israelites  in  the  wilderness, 
for  instance,  are  so  earnestly  set  forth  by 
the  apostle,  for  the  instruction  of  the 
Corinthians,  as  being  an  example  likely 
to  be  overlooked  by  them,  and  especially 
profitable  to  be  contemplated  by  them ; 
disposed,  as  they  probably  were,  to  rest 
in  their  high  privileges  as  God's  people, 
even  as  the  Israelites  did  of  old,  and  to 
think,  like  them,  their  deliverance  com- 
plete, arid  their  attainment  of  the  pro- 
mised inheritance  secure?  without  watch- 


83 

fulness  against  the  trials  that  awaited 
them. 

It  is  with  this  view,  accordingly,  that  I 
have  attempted,  in  the  present  work,  to 
point  out  what  instructive  lessons  may  be 
drawn  from  the  errors  of  our  brethren  of 
the  Romish  church.  For  when  once  it  is 
clealy  perceived,  that  her  corruptions  are 
such  as  human  nature  is  prone  to — that 
they  are  rather  the  cause,  than  the  effect, 
!  of  the  system  of  the  church — and  that 
I  consequently,  those  out  of  her  pale  are 
I  not  therefore  safe  from  similar  corruptions 
I  — we  are  then  the  more  likely  to  guard 
watchfully  against  those  faults,  whose  de- 
formity we  have  seen  fully  displayed  by 
another. 

§.  5.  In  pursuing  this  view,  I  took  oc- 
casion to  illustrate  the  general  principle, 
by  touching  briefly  on  some  of  the  par- 
ticular points  in  which  faults,  essentially 
the  same  with  those  of  the  Romanists, 
have  beset,  and  will  ever  beset,  the  rest 
of  mankind  also,  in  proportion  as  their 
vigilance  against  them  is  remitted  :  but  to 
enumerate  and  dwell  on  all  these  points, 
would  not  only  have  led  to  too  long  a 
discussion,  but  would  hardly  have  been 
needful.  For  when  once  the  general  prin- 
ciple is  embraced,  it  is  easy,  and  it  is  also 
best,  for  every  one  to  follow  up  for  him- 
self the  several  applications  of  it,  and  to 
pursue  the  train  of  thought  thus  suggest- 
ed. Nor  should  this  be  done  once  for  all, 
in  a  single  discussion,  but,  practically, 
throughout  the  whole  of  his  Christian 
life :  since  if  it  be  fully  understood  that 
the  system  of  Romanism,  so  far  as  it 
disagrees  with  true  Christianity,  is  in  fact 
a  transcript  of  man's  frail  nature,  every 
one  must  perceive  the  necessity  of  con- 
templating, as  in  a  mirror,  this  portraiture 
of  his  own  infirmities,  and  of  not  merely 
abjuring,  once  for  all,  the  errors  he  cen- 
sures in  another,  but  guarding  against 
them  with  incessant  vigilance.  The  more 
secure  any  one  feels  against  his  liabilit)' 
to  errors,  to  which  in  fact  he  is  liable,  the 
greater  must  be  his  real  danger  of  falling 
into  them. 

In  pointing  out,  accordingly,  several 
particular  classes  of  faults  to  which  Pro- 
testants are  liable,  and  which  are  substan- 
tially the  same  as  they  condemn  in  the 
Romanists,  I  have  repeatedly  dwelt  on 
that  aggravation  of  the  danger,  the  false 
security  we  are  likely  to  feel,  in  our  re- 
nunciation of  the  papal  dominion,  against 
the  errors  of  Romanism.  I  cannot  there- 
fore more  properly  conclude  this  treatise, 
that  by  observing,  that  this  very  false 
security  is  itself  one  of  the  most  fatal  of 


84 


TRUST  IN  NAMES  AND  PRIVILEGES. 


those  errors ; — that  we  are  in  fact  imitat-]  Scripture,  by  habitually  appealing  to  them 


ing  the  Romanists,  if  we  securely  exult  in 
our  separation  from  them  : — if  we  trust 
in  the  name  of  Protestant,  as  they  do  in 
that  of  Catholic;  and  look  back,  with  proud 
satisfaction,  on  our  emancipation  from 
their  corrupt  system,  without  also  look- 
ing forward,  to  guard  vigilantly  against  the 
like  corruptions ;  even  as  they  triumphed 
in  their  abandonment  of  Pagan  supersti- 
tions, while  they  forgot  that  Paganism  it- 
self was  the  offspring  of  the  self-deceiv- 
ing heart  of  man,  in  which  the  same  cor- 
ruptions, if  not  watchfully  repressed,  will 
be  continually  springing  up  afresh. 

A  more  acceptable  subject,  perhaps,  I 
might  easily  have  found,  in  exposing  the 
enormities  of  the  church  of  Rome,  and 
panegyrizing  the  comparative  purity  of 
our  own;  inasmuch  as  self-congratula- 
tion is  more  agreeable  than  self-examina- 
tion. But  with  a  view  to  our  own  prac- 
tical improvement,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
which  is  the  more  profitable.  The  apos- 
tle's warning,  "  be  not  high-minded,  but 
fear,"  was  not  likely  to  be  so  gratifying  to 
the  church  of  Rome,  to  which  it  was  ad- 
dressed, as  unmixed  praise  and  congratu- 
lation ;  but  it  would  have  saved  them,  had 
they  continued  duly  to  attend  to  it,  from 
the  evils  which  it  denounced. 

Let  the  Protestant  then  consider  their 
fall  as  recorded  "for  his  admonition  :5<l  and 
let  him  profit  by  the  example  before  him. 

The  errors  which,  with  these  views,  I 
selected  for  consideration,  as  being  among 
the  most  prominent,  and  usually  regarded 
as  most  characteristic,  of  the  Romish 
church,*  but  which  I  have  endeavoured 
to  trace  to  our  common  nature,  are,  1, 
superstition ;  considered  as  consisting, 
not  in  this  or  that  particular  mode  of 
worship,  but  in  misdirected  religious  vene- 
ration, generally :  2,  the  tendency  to- 
wards what  may  be  called  a  vicarious  ser- 
vice of  God  ;  a  proneness  to  convert  the 
Christian  minister  into  a  priest  in  the 
other  sense  of  the  word,  and  to  substitute 
his  sanctity  of  life  and  devotion,  for  those 
of  the  people :  3,  the  toleration  of  what 
are  called  "  pious  frauds ;"  either  in  the 
sacrifice  of  truth  to  supposed  expediency, 
or  in  the  propagation  of  what  is  believed 
to  be  the  truth,  by  dishonest  artifice :  4, 
an  undue  deference  to  human  authority; 
as,  in  other  points,  so  especially  in  for- 
getting the  legitimate  use  of  creeds,  cate- 
chisms, liturgies,  and  other  such  compo- 
sitions set  forth  by  any  church,  and  in- 
truding them  gradually  into  the  place  of 


*  See  Appendix,  [B.I 


(where  the  appeal  ought  always  to  be 
made  to  the  records  of  inspiration)  in 
proof  of  any  doctrine  that  is  in  question : 
which  practice  I  pointed  out  as  not  origin- 
ally the  consequence,  but  the  cause,  of  the 
claim  to  inspiration  and  infallibility  set  up 
by  the  church  :  5,  lastly,  1  remarked,  that 
intolerance,  or  the  spirit  of  persecution,  i.  e., 
the  disposition  to  enforce  by  secular  coer- 
cion, not  this  or  that  system  of  religion, 
but,  one's  OMM,  whatever  it  may  be,  is  a 
fault  inherent  in  human  nature,  and  to 
which  consequently  all  mankind  are  lia- 
ble, however  strongly  they  may  reprobate 
(as,  e.  g.,  the  Romish  church  has  always 
done)  persecution,  or  any  form  of  com- 
pulsion, exercised  on  themselves.* 

From  these  then,  and  all  other  Romish 
errors,  Protestants  cannot,  as  such,  be  ex- 
empt ;  and  they  are  in  the  greater  danger 
of  them  in  proportion  to  their  abhorrence 
of  them  as  existing  in  that  church,  if  they 
regard  them  as  properly  the  offspring  of 
Romanism,  and  not  of  human  nature ; — 
if  they  build  their  security  on  their  being 
out  of  the  pale  of  that  corrupt  church, 
and  neglect  to  guard  against  the  spirit  of 
those  corruptions,  while  they  exult  in  the 
name  of  Protestants.  This  careless  reli- 
ance on  titles  and  privileges,  is,  as  I  have 
in  this  chapter  been  endeavouring  to  show, 
itself  one  of  the  most  mischievous  of  the 
Romish  errors,  and  which  has  mainly 
contributed  to  favour  the  introduction  of 
the  rest. 

§.  6.  In  what  way  then,  it  may  be 
asked,  are  we  to  apply  practically  what 
has  been  said,  in  guarding  against  this 
particular  error  ?  Let  any  one  (I  would 
reply)  but  look  around  him,  and  look 


within  his  own  heart, 
titudes  who  exult  in 


Are  there  notmul- 
the  title  of  Chris- 


tian— of  Protestant — of  Churchman — and 
in  their  belonging  to  a  society  endowed 
with  such  high  privileges  ?  There  are  : 
and  would  God  the  description,  thus  far, 
were  even  more  universally  applicable 
than  it  is ;  for  in  these  things  we  ought 
to  rejoice,  even  much  more  than  we  do. 
But  do  all  who  congratulate  themselves 
on  these  advantages,  and  on  these  names, 
and  who  regard  it,  if  not  as  some  sort  of 
merit,  at  least  as  a  sure  pledge  of  some 
divine  favour,  to  possess  them — do  all  of 
these  reflect  on  the  superior  responsibility 
which  is  thus  imposed  on  them  ?  Do 
none  of  them  (in  feelings  and  in  conduct 
at  least,  though  not  in  express  avowal) 
cherish  a  hope  of  being  saved  by  their 


*  See  Appendix  [B.] 


TRUST  IN  NAMES  AND  PRIVILEGES. 


85 


privileges,  rather  than  by  the  use  made }  it.  The  danger  of  it  is,  as  I  have  said 
of  them  ?  Do  they  reflect  on  those  pri-  inherent  in  the  very  nature  of  a  religious 
vileges  as  aggravating  their  condemnation  community.  As,  in  a  partnership,  the  ne 
if  they  do  not  rightly  use  them;  or  do  gleet  of  one  man  may  often  be  in  some 

degree  remedied  by  the  diligence  of  others; 
and  as,  in  an  army,  the  soldier  who  does 
not  himself  fight  bravely,  may  sometimes, 
through  the  valour  of  his  comrades  and 


11      nit  y     viv/     J.IWL     1 14*111/1  y       uoty      iiitJii  *      \SL      v*\-* 

they  exult  in  their  admittance  to  the  wed- 
ding feast,  forgetful  that  the  guest  who 
"  had  not  put  on  the  wedding  garment," 
was  cast  "into  outer  darkness?"  Do 


they  regard  the  names  of  Christian  and  j  the  skill  of  his  general,  be  made  partaker 
of  Protestant  as  a  reproach  to  those  who  of  the  benefits,  and  sometimes  even  of  the 
bear  them,  if  they  are  not  "  led  by  the  glory,  of  a  victory ;  so,  men  are  apt  to 


Spirit  of  Christ" — if  they  do  not  in  their 
heart  and  life,  as  well  as  with  their  lips, 
protest  against  the  faults  which  they  con- 
demn in  the  Romanists  ? 

Nor  is  it  to  the  names  of  Christian  and 


transfer  views  thus  familiar  to  them,  to  the 
case  of  members  of  a  religious  society. 
And  this  danger,  being,  as  I  have  said, 
one  which  necessarily  besets  every  reli- 
gious society,  can  never  be  escaped  except 


of  Protestant  alone,  that  these  cautions  by  incessant  vigilance.  For  Christianity 
will  apply :  every  title  which  we  claim  :  is  essentially  a  social  religion.  We  are 
that  implies  any  peculiar  advantage,  in-  { "  every  one  members  one  of  another ;" 
volves  a  corresponding  responsibility ;  |  and  the  Author  of  our  faith  has  decreed, 
and  a  corresponding  danger,  if  we  forget  that  Christians  are  to  further  their  own 
that  responsibility.  Does  any  one  con-  j  salvation,  by  labouring  jointly  to  forward 
sider  himself  entitled  to  the  name  of  j  the  salvation  of  each  other.  But  it  is  by 
churchman — of  orthodox — of  evangeli- '  the  personal  faith  and  holiness  of  each 
cal  ? — let  him  remember,  that  there  is  a  ;  individual  Christian,  that  each  individual 
perpetual  danger  of  his  relying  in  proud  j  Christian,  after  all,  is  to  be  made,  through 
security  on  these  titles — of  trusting,  not '  the  intercession  of  the  one  Mediator  and 
so  much  to  his  endeavours  after  personal !  Redeemer,  whose  Spirit  sanctifies  his'heart, 
holiness,  as  to  the  sanctity  of  the  society, !  acceptable  before  God.  The  pious  labours 
sect,  or  party,  with  which  he  is  thus  con-  of  others  can  do  nothing  for  any  man,  im- 


nected. 

Some  members  of  the  Romish  church, 
not  satisfied  with  merely  belonging  to 
that  church,  and  with  the  title  of  Catho- 
lics, have  enrolled  themselves  in  certain 
subordinate  societies,  (or  religious  orders 
as  they  are  called,)  enlisting  themselves 
under  the  banner  of  some  founder,  of 


less  they  lead  him  to  labour  in  like  man- 
ner for  himself. 

Richly  endowed  indeed  is  the  church 
of  Christ  with  the  means  of  grace — with 
privileges  and  advantages  of  inestimable 
value;  but  if  we  fail  to  use  these  means, 
and  to  avail  ourselves  of  these  privileges, 
they  will  but  increase  our  condemnation. 


supposed  superior  sanctity.  I  am  not  now  ,  The  name  of  Christian — of  Reformed,  of 
inquiring  into  the  peculiar  errors  and  su-  ,  Protestant  Christian — instead  of  saving, 
pcrstitions  actually  connected  with  these  j  will  condemn,  as  doubly  inexcusable,  on 


institutions  :  had  they  been  exempt  from 
every  thing  of  this  kind,  there  would  still 
have  been  a  danger  (which,  in  fact,  must 
exist,  more  or  less,  in  all  religious  com- 
munities whatever)  of  that  evil  which  has 
so  notoriously  attended  the  religious  so- 
cieties of  the  Romish  church  : — the  evil, 
I  mean,  of  considering  the  mutual  con- 
nexion of  the  members  of  such  societies 
as  a  kind  of  partnership ;  in  which  each 
member  may  hope  to  derive  some  benefit 
at  least,  from  the  piety  and  purity  of  the 
whole  body.  This  absurdity — the  sup- 


the  great  day,  when  the  secrets  of  men's 
hearts  shall  be  disclosed,  him,  who, 
"naming  the  name  of  Christ,"  has  not 
"  departed  from  iniquity ;" — who  "  hear- 
eth  his  words,  and  doeth  them  not ;" — 
whose  life  and  heart  are  not  "  reformed" 
— and  who  exults  over  the  errors  of  the 
Romish  church,  while  he  supinely  over- 
looks those  evil  propensities  of  our  com- 
mon nature,  from  which  they  took  their 
rise.  "For  he  is  not  a  Jew,"  (nor,  by 
parity  of  reasoning,  a  Christian — an  or- 
thodox, or  an  evangelical  Christian — a 

posed  transfer  of  the  merits  of  one  sinful  I  Reformed,  or  a  Protestant  Christian,) 
mortal  to  the  account  of  another — has  in-  "  who  is  one  outwardly,  neither  is  that 
deed  never  been  distinctly  avowed  except  circumcision  which  is  outward  in  the 
in  the  church  of  Rome  :  but  the  tendency  j  flesh ;  but  he  is  a  Jew,  who  is  one  in- 


towards  such  a  feeling  must  have  been 
inherent  in  the  human  heart,  or  men  never 
could  have  been  brought  to  acknowledge 


wardly;  and  circumcision  is  that  of  the 

heart,  in  the  spirit,  and  not  in  the  letter ; 

whose  praise  is  not  of  men,  but  of  God." 

H 


APPENDIX. 


[A.] 

THE  title  of  Catholics  the  Romanists  claim, 
and  apply  to  themselves,  not  merely  as  be- 
longing to  them,  (and  it  is  not  denied  that 
they  are  a  branch,  though  a  corrupt  one,  of 
the  universal  or  Catholic  church,)  but  as 
distinctive,  and  peculiar  to  the  members  of 
the  church  of  Rome.  And  Protestants  have 
usually,  in  language,  conceded  this  claim. 
But  I  think  that  in  so  doing  they  manifest 
too  exclusively  the  harmlessness  of  the  dove, 
and  leave  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent  entirely 
with  their  opponents.  It  is  urged  that  these 
are  offended  at  being  called  Papists ;  consi- 
dering that  as  a  term  of  reproach,  from  its 
being  used  only  by  their  adversaries.  That 
I  may 'not  seem  to  seek  a  quarrel,  I  have 
generally  avoided  that  name  :  but  let  us  not 
be  so  weak  as  to  imagine  that  "Roman- 
ist," or  any  other  title  by  which  they  can 
be,  properly,  designated,  will  ever  fail,  when 
it  shall  have  become  common,  to  be  complained 
of  as  reproachful;  or  that  they  will  ever 
acquiesce  in  any  appellation  which  does  not 
imply  a  reproach  to  ourselves.  Even  the  ap- 
parently neutral  designation  of  "  members 
of  the  church  of  Rome,"  is  one  which  we 
must  not  too  confidently  expect  them  to 
adopt  or  acquiesce  in;  nor  is  it  unlikely 
that  they  may  complain  of  it  as  reproachful, 
should  it  ever  become  their  customary  ap- 
pellation among  Protestants.  For  it  implies 
that  there  are  other  churches,  properly  called 
churches,  besides  the  church  of  Rome.  We 
indeed  are  content  to  be  designated  as  mem- 
bers of  the  church  of  England;  and  we 
regard  them  as  belonging  to  a  distinct 
church,  over  which,  though  we  censure  it 
as  corrupt,  we  claim  no  supremacy;  but 
they  do  not  take  a  corresponding  view  of 
us  :  they  do  not  regard  us  as  constituting 
any  distinct  church,  but  as  actually  mem- 
bers, though  schismatical  and  revolted 
members— subjects,  de  -jure,  though  rebel- 
lious subjects — of  their  church.  A  name 
therefore  which  implies  that  there  are  other 
churches  distinct  from  theirs,  contradicts 
one  of  their  fundamental  tenets ;  viz.,  that 
they,  and  they  only,  are  faithful  members 
of  the  one  true  church.  And  this  tenet  they 
have  embodied  in  the  appellation  they  have 
chosen  for  themselves ;  which  consequently 
implies,  as  I  have  said,  a  reproach  to  all 
other  Christians.  The  title  of  Catholic, 
when  used  as  distinctive,  implies  the  exclu- 


sion of  all  others  from  the  character  of  loyal 
members  of  the  society  which  Christ  found- 
ed— of  "  the  holy  Catholic  church,  the  com- 
munion of  saints,"  as  it  is  expressed  and 
explained  in  the  Apostle's  Creed :  it  implies, 
in  short,  that  all  others  are  heretics  or 
schismatics. 

This  is  no  uncommon  device.  There  is 
a  sect  who  call  themselves  "  Baptists,"  i.  e., 
persons  who  baptize;  thus  implying  that 
no  others  are  really  baptized,  and  that  infant 
baptism  is  null  and  void.  This  is  their  dis- 
tinctive tenet;  which  they  are  perfectly  right 
in  professing,  if  convinced  of  its  truth  :  but 
it  is  an  absurdity  for  any  one  who  differs 
from  them  to  give  them  this  title,  which 
palpably  begs  the  question  at  issue,  and 
condemns  himself.  The  title  of  Antipa3do- 
baptist  is  to  be  sure  somewhat  cumbrous ; 
but  awkwardness  of  expression,  or  even 
circumlocution,  is  preferable  to  error  and 
absurdity.  "The  same  caution  might  well 
be  extended  to  the  use  of  the  word  Unita- 
rian, as  the  title  of  a  sect ;  for  the  term  pro- 
perly expresses  a  fundamental  doctrine 
which  the  church  holds.  Socinian  appears 
to  me  a  better  appellation.  But  this  too  I 
would  avoid,  if  it  gave  serious  offence ;  at 
the  same  time  being  careful  to  make  it 
known  that  the  word  Unitarian  is  employed 
in  compliance  with  a  custom,  which,  how- 
ever general,  and  perhaps  harmless,  I  can- 
not but  regard  as  objectionable."* 

That  the  term  Papist  is  a  term  of  reproach, 
(though  I  do  not  insist  on  its  being  em- 
ployed,) I  can  never  admit.  A  "  term  of 
reproach"  is  one  which  implies  something 
disgraceful  in  the  opinion  of  the  party  to 
whom  it  is  applied.  Thus,  heretic  (in  its  ordi- 
nary, not  perhaps  in  its  etymological,  sense) 
implies  the  holding  of  some  erroneous  tenet ; 
it  is,  consequently,  a  reproachful  term. 
But  Papist  implies  simply  one  who  acknow- 
ledges the  authority  of  the  Pope :  and  those 
to  whom  it  is  applied  do,  openly,  acknow- 
ledge his  authority. 

"Considering  the  tendency  of  words," 
(says  a  writer  whom  I  am  proud  to  appeal 
to)  "to  influence  opinions,  I  hold  the  right 
use  of  this  word  CATHOLIC  to  be  of  essen- 
tial importance.  The  controversial  writers 
of  the  church  of  Rome  never  fail  to  take 
advantage  of  the  want  of  caution  in  this 

*  Note  to  Bishop  Copleston's  Sermon  at  the 
reopening  of  Abergavenny  church. 


APPENDIX. 


respect  observable  among  Protestants.  Of 
this  a  strong  example  is  given  in  a  recent 
publication.,  which  affords  a  gratifying  proof 
of  the  strength  of  our  cause,  and  of  the 
weakness  of  the  Romanists,  whenever  they 
are  respectively  brought  to  the  test  of  Scrip- 
ture and  of  reason.  I  allude  to  the  corre- 
spondence between  the  clergy  of  Blackburn 
and  the  principal  and  other  members  of  the  | 
Roman  Catholic  establishment  at  Stony- 
hurst.  From  this  interesting  publication  I 
cannot  do  better  than  extract  the  following 
passage  in  one  of  Mr.  Whittaker's  letters  to 
the  principal  of  that  institution. 

"it  was  not  from  a  love  of  contending 
about  words,  still  less  from  any  reluctance  to 
give  every  possible  satisfaction  to  the  Romish 
priesthood,  that  I  persisted  in  refusing  the 
unqualified  term  *  Catholic'  to  them  and 
their  church.  The  use  which  they  make 
of  it,  when  it  is  conceded  to  them,  cannot 
be  unknown  to  you.  Dr.  Milner,  in  his 
End  of  Religious  Controversy,  (Letter 
XXV.,)  says  of  our  church,  '  Every  time 
they  address  the  God  of  truth,  either  in 
solemn  worship  or  in  private  devotion,  they 
are  forced  each  of  them  to  repeat,  /  believe 
in  THE  CATHOLIC  CHURCH,  and  yet,  if  I 
ask  any  of  them  the  question,  are  you  a 
CATHOLIC  1  he  is  sure  to  answer  me,  JVb  / 
I  am  a  PROTESTANT!  ! — Was  there  ever  a 
more  glaring  instance  of  inconsistency  and 
self-condemnation  among  rational  beings?' 
'  But,'  says  one  of  the  Blackburn  secular 
priests  to  me,  '  where  is  the  man  who  can 
or  will  accuse  you  of  acting  inconsistently 
with  your  religious  principles,'  supposing 
me  to  concede  this  appellation  to  their  church 
and  its  members  exclusively?  I  refer  him 
for  his  answer  to  Dr.  Milner,  with  whom  I 
entirely  agree,  that  a  more  glaring  instance  of 
inconsistency  and  self-condemnation  '  can- 
not well  exist  among  rational  beings,'  than 
that  exhibited  by  Protestants,  who  confess 
before  God  that  they  believe  in  his  holy 
Catholic  church,  and  allow  themselves  to 
limit  the  practical  use  of  the  term  to  the 
church  of  Rome." — Correspondence ,  fyc., 
published  at  Blackburn,  1829,  p.  14. 

"There  is  nothing  I  abhor  more  than 
religious  persecution — nothing  I  would  cen- 
sure more  strongly  than  a  wanton  offence 
given  to  the  feelings  of  others,  on  account 
of  a  sincere  difference  in  religious  opinion. 
Yet  I  cannot  carry  this  principle  so  far  as 
to  abstain  from  calling  the  members  of  that 
church  who  refuse  to  join  in  our  reforma- 
tion of  its  errors,  by  some  appellation  which 
marks  their  adherence  to  its  communion, 
and  their  submission  to  its  authority.  Pa- 
pist appears  to  me  the  most  correct  desig- 
nation, because  the  differences  in  doctrine 
are  often  ingeniously  softened  down  and 
even  explained  away  by  the  more  enlight- 
ened Roman  Catholics;  but  I  never  met 
with  one  who  did  not  hold  that  spiritual 
submission  to  the  bishop  of  Rome  in  some 
sense  or  other  was  indispensable.  The 
word  Papist,  however,  is  understood  by 


them  as  a  reproach.  Let  us  then,  in  Chris- 
tian charity,  forbear  to  use  it.  But  some 
phrase,  indicative  of  their  connexion  with 
Rome,  and  of  their  dependence  upon  the 
authority  of  that  see,  whether  Romish,  or 
Romanist,  or  Roman  Catholic,  I  hold  to  be 
not  only  allowable,  but  highly  expedient, 
and  even  necessary  :  and  heartily  do  I  wish 
that  all  Protestants  would  form  themselves 
to  a  habit  of  thus  speaking,  both  in  public 
and  private  :  for  then  it  would  never  be  un- 
derstood as  a  personal  affront,  but  as  a  seri- 
ous and  firm  resolution  not  to  compliment 
away  an  important  point,  in  which  our  feel- 
ings and  our  honour  are  at  least  as  much 
concerned  as  theirs."* 

"  Yes,  but"  (I  have  heard  it  answered) 
"the  term  Papist  implies  more  than  mere 
submission  to^papal  supremacy;  it  implies 
the  adoption  of  an  erroneous  system  and 
submission  to  a  usurped  authority."  It 
implies  no  such  thing.  That  indeed  is  my 
opinion  respecting  the  Romish  system ;  but 
the  word  does  not  denote  that.  The  differ- 
ence is  practically  very  great  and  important 
between  a  word  which  itself  expresses  error 
or  wrong,  and  a  word  which  denotes  some 
thing  which  the  speaker  believes  to  be  erro- 
neous or  wrong.  One  person,  for  instance, 
may  think  a  democracy  the  best  form  of 
government,  and  another  may  think  it  the 
worst;  the  one  will  consequently  have  the 
most  pleasing,  the  other  the  most  odious, 
associations  with  the  term  democrat;  but 
the  word  itself  is  not  used  by  them  in  two 
different  senses;  it  expresses  simply,  an  * 
"advocate  for  democracy;"  and  it  is  not, 
in  itself,  either  a  term  of  honour  or  of  re- 
proach. On  the  other  hand,  "patriot"  and 
"traitor"  imply,  respectively,  honour  and 
dishonour  in  their  very  signification. 

Inattention  to  this  obvious  distinction 
leads  to  endless  confusion  of  thought  and 
practical  perplexity.  If  every  term  is  to  be 
reckoned  reproachful,  which  is  associated 
in  the  mind  of  him  who  uses  it  with  some 
odious  or  contemptible  idea,  then,  the  title 
of  Catlwlic  will  itself  be  such,  when  applied 
by  Protestants  to  designate  the  church  of 
Rome.  Every  term,  in  short,  will  be  a  term 
of  reproach  when  used  by  one  who  disap- 
proves the  opinion,  system,  or  party,  im- 
plied by  it.  The  Mahometans  associate 
with  the  title  of  Christian  every  thing  that 
is  hateful  or  despicable ;  shall  we  then  com- 
plain or  be  ashamed  of  being  called  Chris- 
tians? "God  forbid  that  we  should  glory, 
save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 
Mahometan,  again,  is  a  title  which  recalls 
to  the  Christian  the  idea  of  "disciple  of  an 
impostor  :  but  the  title  itself  does  not  imply 
Mahomet's  being  either  a  false  or  a  true 
prophet ;  and  they  accordingly  do  not  regard 
it  as  a  reproachful  title. 

But  the  term  Christian  would  be  reproach- 
ful if  applied  by  one  Mahometan  to  anotlier; 

*  Bishop  Coplestou's  Sermon  at  Abergavenny, 
p.  23,  24. 


88 


APPENDIX. 


because  it  expresses  something  which  that 
other  holds  in  abhorrence.  So  also  the  title 
of  Mahometan  would  be  a  reproach  if  ap- 
plied to  a  Christian  j  and  Papist,  again,  for 
the  same  reason,  is  a  term  of  reproach,  if 
applied  to  one  who  professes  himself  a  Pro- 
testant. An  appellation,  in  short,  is  or  is 
not  reproachful,  according  to  the  professed 
tenets,  not  of  him  who  applies  it,  but  of  him 
to  ivlwm  it  is  applied.  To  be  called  a  Papist, 
(i.  e.,  "  one  who  admits  the  pope's  author- 
ity," is  a  reproach  to  him  who  does  not, 
and  none  to  him  who  does,  profess  that 
principle. 

But  we  are  told  that  the  term  is  used  by 
none  but  the  adversaries  of  the  Romanists, 
and  therefore  they  have  a  right  to  complain 
of  it.  At  this  rate  they  may  make  any  title 
they  will  a  term  of  reproach,  by  simply  re- 
fusing to  apply  it  to  themselves.  And  we 
may  be  assured  they  will  do  so  with  every 
title  which  does  not  imply  a  reproach  to  us. 
To  call  themselves  distinctively  Catholics, 
is  (as  they  at  least  are  well  aware,  whatever 
we  may  be)  to  call  us  heretics.  Let  them 
be  admonished,  that  when  they  except 
against  the  name  of  Papists,  and  assume 
that  of  Catholics,  declaiming  at  the  same 
time  against  the  cruelty  of  using  reproachful 
language — let  them  be  admonished,  that 
the  censure  applies,  not  to  us,  but  to  them- 
selves. 

And  let  it  not  be  thought  that  this  is  a 
trifling  "  question  of  words  and  names  :"  it 
was  a  wise  maxim,  laid  down  and  skil- 
fully acted  on  by  some  of  the  leaders  of 
the  French  revolution,  that  "  names  are 
things."  Great  is  the  practical  effect  in  all 
debate  and  controversy,  of  suffering  to  pass 
unnoticed  and  to  become  established,  such 
terms  as  beg  the  question,  and  virtually  im- 
ply a  decision  on  one  side.  I  remember  to 
have  met  with  a  Romanist  (by  no  means 
bigotted)  of  the  middle  class  of  society,  with 
whom  I  had  a  good  deal  of  discussion  of  the 
points  wherein  we  differed.  What  seemed 
to  dwell  most  on  his  mind  was,  the  incon- 
sistency-, as  he  deemed  it,  of  our  professing 
belief  in  "  the  holy  Catholic  church ;" 
when  "yours,"  he  said,  "is  not  the  Catho- 
lic church." 


[B.J 

Different  persons  will,  of  course,  be 
chiefly  struck  by  different  faults,  among 
those  charged  on  the  Romanists.  Many, 
for  instance,  would  place  foremost  one  which 
I  have  not  noticed  under  a  distinct  head,  and 
to  which  they  give  the  title  of  "  self-righte- 
ousness." The  word  does  not  perhaps  sa- 
vour of  the  purest  English  ;*  but  what  they 

*  According  to  the  analogy  of  the  other  similar 
compounds  in  our  language,  such  as  "self-love," 
"  self-condemnation,"  "  self-tormentor,"  &c. "  self- 
righteousness"  should  signify,  upright  dealing  in 
respect  to  one's  self. 


mean  is,  a  confident  trust  in  the  merit  of  our 
own  good  works,  as  sufficient  to  earn  eter- 
nal happiness,  and  as  entitling  us  to  that  as 
a  just  reward. 

The  Romish  church,  however,  has  not 
in  reality  ever  set  this  forth  as  one  of  her 
distinct  tenets.  If  any  one  will  consult, 
what  is  of  decisive  authority  in  that  church, 
the  decrees  of  the  council  at  Trent,  he  will 
perceive,  that  though  they  may  perhaps 
have  made  an  injudicious  use  of  the  word 
"  merit,"  the  abstract  question  between  them 
and  others  (not  Antinomians)  is  chiefly  ver- 
bal. For  they  admit,  and  solemnly  declare, 
that  nothing  we  can  do  can  be  acceptable 
before  God  except  for  the  sake  of  Jesus 
Christ;  and  that  we  are  unable  to  perform 
good  works  except  by  his  Spirit  working  in 
us :  so  that  what  is  called  a  Christian's 
righteousness  is,  at  the  same  time,  the 
righteousness  of  Christ,  although  the  Scrip- 
tures promise,  repeatedly  and  plainly,  that 
it  will,  through  his  goodness,  not  "  lose  its 
reward." 

That  part  of  their  theory  which  is  the 
most  objectionable  on  this  score  is  the  doc- 
trine, that  from  -the  pains  of  Purgatory, 
Christ  has  not  redeemed  us,  but  we  are  to  be 
rescued  either  by  penances  done  in  this  life, 
or  by  masses  offered  in  our  behalf  after  our 
death. 

But  I  do  think,  that,  in  practice,  the  Rom- 
ish system  tends  to  foster  the  error  in  ques- 
tion ;  not  so  much,  however,  by  the  use  of 
the  words  "  merit,"  and  "reward,"  as  by  the 
importance  attached  to  the  actual  perform- 
ance of  a  vast  multitude  of  specific  works, 
many  of  them  arbitrarily  prescribed,  such 
as  abstinence  from  particular  meats  on  par- 
ticular days,  repetition  of  "Ave  Marias"  and 
"  Pater-nosters"  — pilgrimages  —  crossings, 
&,c.,  which  have  a  manifest  tendency  to  ab- 
sorb the  attention  in  the  act  itself — to  draw 
off  the  mind  from  the  endeavour  after  in- 
ward purity — and  to  create  the  feeling  so 
congenial  to  our  nature,  that  we  have  been 
so  far  advancing  in  the  performance  of  some- 
thing intrinsically  capable  of  forwarding  our 
salvation. 

"~  It  is  worth  remarking,  that  the  great  hea- 
then moralist,  who  understood  more  of  the 
character  of  Christian   virtue   than  many 
Christians  do,  dwells  strongly  on  the  prin- 
ciple, that  while,  in  the  arts,  the  thing  pro- 
duced is  what  we  chiefly  look  to,  in   moral 
action,  on  the  contrary,  the  frame  of  mind 
of  the  agent  is  the  principal  point;  virtuous 
actions  being  only  the  means,  though  the 
j  necessary  means,  of  making  him,  and  of 
!  proving  him  to  be,  (what  is  to  be  the  ulti- 
j  mate  object  sought  after,)  an  habitually  good 
!  man*    But  it  is  an  easier  task  for  man, 
i  such  as  he  is  by  nature,  to  conform  his  out- 
i  ward  actions   to   a   certain   precisely  fixed 
rule,  and  to  applaud  himself  for  that  con- 
formity, than,  by  incessant   vigilance   and 

*  See  Arist.  Eth.  b.  ii. 


APPENDIX. 


89 


self-examination,  to  rectify  and  regulate  the 
inward  character.* 

It  is  a  great  mistake,  however,  to  imagine 
that  Protestants,  even  those  who  are  the  for- 
wardest  in  condemning  this  particular  kind 
of  spiritual  pride,  called  by  them  "self- 
righteousness,"  are  therefore  exempt  from 
the  danger  of  spiritual  pride  altogether.  On 
the  contrary,  one  may  find  but  too  plain 
symptoms  of  the  same  disease,  even  in  some 
who  the  most  abhor  and  condemn  all  reliance 
on  the  merit  of  good  works.  For  pride  is 
too  natural  an  inmate  of  the  human  heart 
to  be  effectually  exclucred  by  being  merely 
"at  one  entrance  quite  shut  out."  There  are 
some,  as  I  have  above  remarked,f  who  sub- 
stitute an  unerring  party  for  an  unerring 
church,  or  renounce  the  shackles  of  papal 
infallibility,  as  it  were  in  a  spirit  of  rivalry, 
that  they  may  become  each  a  pope  to  him- 
self. And  these  will  commonly  be  found  to 
have  merely  changed  the  form,  not  the  sub- 
stance, of  spiritual  pride.  One  may  some- 
times hear  a  man  professing  himself  the 
chief  of  sinners — proclaiming  his  own 
righteousness  to  be  filthy  rags — calling  him- 
self a  brand  plucked  from  the  burning — rest- 
ing his  confidence  of  salvation  wholly  on 
the  atonement  of  his  Redeemer,  and  on  the 
imputation  to  himself  of  the  righteous 
works  performed  by  Christ}: — and  acknow- 
ledging that  he  has  received  every  thing 
from  God's  free  and  unmerited  bounty;  and 
thence  fully  trusting  that  he  must  have  com- 
pletely attained  Christian  humility ;  at  least 
as  far  as  he  does  completely  adhere  to  his 
profession,  that  whatever  he  possesses  is 
due  to  the  free  grace  of  God.  On  this 
ground  we  may  conceive  the  Pharisee  in 
the  parable  to  have  congratulated  himself  on 
his  humility  as  well  as  his  other  virtues ; 
since  he  exclaims,  in  pious  gratitude,  God, 
/  thank  thee,  that  I  am  not  as  other  men 
are!"  But  the  Pharisee,  it  Will  be  answered, 
rested  on  his  good  works — his  scrupulous 
fasting  and  paying  of  tithes.  Is  there  then 
no  other  conceivable  spiritual  pride  than  pre- 
cisely that  of  the  Pharisee  ?  no  other  subject 
of  excessive  self-confidence  and  self-con- 
gratulation ?  If  there  be,  it  is  evident  that 
we  cannot,  any  more  than  the  Pharisee,  be 
exempted  from  the  danger,  by  merely  ac- 
knowledging (as  he  did)  that  all  we  have  is 
the  gift  of  God.  And  in  fact,  it  may  too 
often  be  found,  that  a  Christian,  who  re- 
nounces the  Romish  tenets  respecting  good- 
works,  and  who  abhors  the  very  name  of 
"  merit,"  as  applied  to  himself  or  to  other 
men,  will  have  renounced  boasting,  only  in 
words,  and  will  be  full  of  the  most  over- 
weening confidence  in  his  own  gifts  and 
graces.  For  there  is  a  striking  resemblance 
between  the  Romanist  and  the  fanatical 
pietist,  in  their  each  craving  after,  (though 
from  different  quarters,)  and  each  in  conse- 
quence flattering  himself  as  having  attained 


*  See  Essays  V.  and  VIII.   Second  Series, 
t  Chap.  IV.     $  See  Essay  VI.  Second  Series. 
12 


some  such  definite  and  certain  assurance,  the 
one  from  his  church,  the  other  from  his 
feelings,  as  may  finally  supersede  hesitation 
and  self-distrust — destroy  the  true  nature 
and  value  of  faith — and  deprive  the  present 
life  of  its  character  as  a  state  of  discipline. 
As  the  one  accordingly  relies  in  proud  secu- 
rity on  his  unerring  church,  so  the  other  will 
proclaim  himself  enlightened  throughout,  as 
to  the  whole  Gospel  scheme,  by  the  Divine 
Spirit;  and  so  far  he  is  right,  that  the  aid  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  is  promised  us  to  "  help  our 
infirmities,"  and  that  without  this  help 
sought  and  granted,  the  clearest  intellectual 
powers  will  leave  a  man  bewildered,  or  ill- 
satisfied.  But  he  who  honestly  avails  him- 
self of  this  promise,  and  is  truly  "led  by 
the  Spirit,"  will  be  filled  with  gratitude  in- 
deed for  the  past,  and  with  cheering  hope 
for  the  future,  but  with  no  arrogant  self-con- 
fidence, or  uncharitable  disdain.  Without 
entering  into  any  minute  discussion  (for 
which  this  is  not  the  place*)  of  the  different 
kinds  and  degrees  of  spiritual  assistance,  it 
is  evident  that  all  such  enlightening  of  the 
mind  either  is  or  is  not  of  such  a  character 
as  to  amount  to  inspiration,,  and  imply  infal- 
libility. If  in  any  case  a  man  is  convinced 
that  he  has  not  any  claim  to  this,  he  ought, 
in  some  way  or  other,  to  manifest  that  convic- 
tion, and  show  that  he  makes  allowances 
for  this  difference  :  if  he  does  reckon  him- 
self properly  inspired,  he  ought  at  least  not 
to  censure  the  Romish  church  for  the  pre- 
sumptuous arrogance  of  her  claim,  but 
honestly  to  join  issue  on  the  question, 
whether  they  or  he  are  justified  in  such  a 
claim  :  a  question  which,  it  appears  to  me, 
can  only  be  settled  by  the  performance  of 
sensible  miracles. 

And  I  cannot  but  think  the  Romanists 
have  the  advantage  in  point  of  consistency 
over  many  modern  fanatics,  inasmuch  as 
their  church  does  acknowledge  the  reason- 
ableness of  such  an  appeal,  and  claim  mira- 
culous powers.  But  one  may  find  in  some 
Protestants,  while  they  pretend  to  no  such 
powers,  and  abjure  all  arrogant  assumption, 
a  decided  pretension,  if  not  always  expressed 
in  words,  at  least  implied  in  the  whole 
tenor  of  their  language,  to  inspiration,  pro- 
perly so  called.  They  state  their  own  views 
of  religion  with  no  less  oracular  dogmatism 
than  the  Romanists ; — they  bestow  no  less 
unhesitating  and  unsparing  censure  on  all 
who  do  not  coincide  in  these  views,  or  who 
do  not,  to  the  minutest  tittle,  conform  to  their 
phraseology  in  expressing  them; — and  they 
look  down  with  the  same  pharisaical  and 
self-sufficient  contempt  on  every  one  who 
does  not  adopt  the  notions  which  they  (as 
they  often  express  themselves)  have  been 
taught  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  And  if  any 
one  remains  unconvinced  by  their  argu- 
ments, or  by  their  assertions  instead  of  argu- 
ment, or  if  he  meet  these  with  such  objec- 
tions as  they  are  at  a  loss  to  answer,  they 

*  See  Essay  IX.  Second  Series. 
H2 


90  APPENDIX. 

will  in  general  boldly  and  promptly  resort 
to  the  cheap  expedient  of  pronouncing  him 
incapable  of  comprehending  the  subject, 
from  being  in  an  unregenerate  state:  for 
"  the  natural  man  receiveth  not  the  things 
that  are  of  God ;  and  such,  they  conclude 
at  once,  must  be  the  condition  of  any  one 
who  disallows,  or,  still  more,  who  refutes, 
their  opinions,  which  they  are  sure  are  the 
"  things  of  God."  Any,  the  slightest,  de- 
parture from  the  standard  of  their  (as  it 
might  be  called,  in  analogy  to  their  own 
phraseology)  "self-infallibility,''  is  regarded 
by  them  as  a  decisive  proof  of  entire  spi- 
ritual blindness. 

But  still,  inasmuch  as  they  abhor  "  self- 
righteousness,"  claiming  no  merit  whatso- 
ever for  their  own  good  works,  and  pretend- 
ing only  to  the  character  of  the  peculiarly 
favoured  and  inspired  people  of  God,  they 
flatter  themselves  that  they  are  quite  safe 
from  spiritual  pride ;  and  thus  they  complete 
their  presumptuous  confidence,  by  adding 
to  the  list  of  their  other  perfections,  the  per- 
fect attainment  of  genuine  Christian  humi- 
lity. Being  utter  strangers  to  self-distrust 
and  humble  vigilance,  they  feel,  for  this 
very  reason,  the  more  secure  against  any 
deficiency  of  these ;  and  the  very  complete- 
ness of  their  spiritual  pride  makes  them  the 
more  completely  confident  of  being  wholly 
free  from  it. 

If  such  be,  as  I  fear  it  is,  but  too  true  a 
picture  of  the  language  and  tone  of  feeling 
which  may  not  unfrequently  be  met  with, 
even  among  those  who  not  only  condemn 
the  arrogance  of  the  Romish  plea  of  merit, 
but  are  sedulous  in  warning  Protestants 
against  the  like  sin,  this  furnishes  a  strong, 
and  afflicting,  and  awful  instance  of  a  de- 
lusion by  which  our  spiritual  enemy  can 
obtrude  upon  us  some  vice,  dressed  up  in 
the  very  garb  of  the  opposite  virtue,  even  at 
the  very  time  when  we  are  occupied  in  the 
most  vehement  reprobation  of  it :  while  we 
are,  in  one  point,  scrupulous  to  "  strain  off 
the  gnat,"  and  in  another,  ready  to  "  swal- 
low the  camel." 

Never  will  the  sin  of  spiritual  pride  more 
easily  beset  us,  than  under  the  guise  of  a 
self  abhorring  humility.  And  never  will 
the  preacher  be  more  successful  in  making 
(apparent)  converts,  than  when  he  is  un- 
consciously flattering  the  evil  propensities 
of  man's  corrupt  nature,  while  he  appears 
to  repress  them.  "  It  is  sometimes  con- 
sidered as  a  proof  of  the  advantage  to  be  ob- 
tained from  the  habit  which  I  am  here  pre- 
suming to  discourage,  that  such  preaching 
generally  proves  attractive  to  the  lower 
classes.  This,  however,  may  be  accounted 
for,  without  furnishing  any  justification  of 
the  practice.  For,  first,  the  lower  classes, 
unless  they  are  truly  religious,  usually  are 
gross  sinners,  and,  therefore,  are  neither 
surprised  nor  shocked  at  being  supposed  so 
themselves,  and  at  the  same  time  feel  a  sort 
of  pleasure  which  need  not  be  encouraged, 
when  they  hear  their  superiors  brought 


down  to  the  same  level :  and,  secondly,  it 
seems  to  furnish  them  with  a  sort  of  excuse 
for  their  sins,  to  find  that  they  are  so  uni- 
versal, and  so  much  to  be  expected  of  hu- 
man nature."*  Nothing  indeed  is  more 
likely  to  be  popular,  and  less  likely  to  be 
profitable,  than  to  act  the  part  of  the  Stoic 
philosopher  to  Damasippus  ;  (Hor.  Sat.  iii. 
b.  2;)  who  assured  him  that  he  need  not 
feel  any  shame  at  his  own  follies,  at  least 
as  compared  with  those  of  other  men,f 
since  all  except  the  true  wise-men:}:  were 
equally  foolish  and  insane, ||  though  in  vari- 
ous ways ;  and  that  he  had  only  to  enrol 
himself  in  this  privileged  and  enlightened 
philosophical  sect,  adopt  the  maxims  of  his 
new  school,^  and  immediately  look  down 
with  disdain  on  those  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  look  up  to  with  a  mixture  of  reve- 
rence, envy,  despair,  and  dislike.t 

The  whole  of  this  admirable  satire  is  well 
worth  a  re  perusal,  with  a  view  to  the  pre- 
sent subject,  for  the  sake  of  the  light  it 
throws  on  the  substantial  identity,  under  the 
most  different  forms  and  names,  of  human 
nature  in  all  ages  and  countries. 

It  ever  must  have  been,  and  ever  will  be, 
a  far  more  irksome  task  to  human  nature, 
to  drink,  drop  by  drop,  the  medicine,  so  bit- 
ter to  the  "natural  man,"  of  self-abase- 
ment, than  to  get  rid  of  the  potion  in  a  sin- 
gle draught ; — to  weed  out,  one  by  one, 
deep-rooted  habits,  and  gradually  to  retrace 
his  steps  by  daily  perseverance,  than  to  leap 
at  once  to  a  secure  eminence,  from  which 
he  may  look  back,  in  the  exultation  of  su- 
periority, on  those  whose  greater  forward- 
ness in  the  Christian  course  he  had  been 
used  to  regard  with  almost  hopeless  morti- 
fication. 

Well  therefore  may  we  expect,  that  those 
who  are  not  sedulously  on  their  guard,  will 
be  often  seduced  by  a  temptation  which  ad- 
dresses itself  at  once  to  the  impatient  indo- 
lence, to  the  jealousy,  and  to  the  pride,  of 
the  human  heart. 

To  the  topics  I  have  touched  on  in  the 
course  of  this  work,  I  might  have  added, 
besides  many  others,  some  allusion  to  the 
re-introduction  among  some  Protestants  of 
auricular  confession,  though  so  far  modified  as 


*  Sumner,  Apostolical  Preaching,,  p.  133. 

•J- hoc  te 

Credo  modoinsanum  ;  nihilo  ut  sapientior  ille 
Qui  te  deridit.     Sat.  iii.  b.  ii.  1.  51. 
£     .    HJBC  populos,  hsec  magnos  formula  reges, 

Excepto  sapiente,  tenet.     1.  45. 
|j  It  should  be  remembered,  that  the  equality  of 
all  faults  was  a  favourite  doctrine  of  the  Stoics. 
§         ...         unde  ego  mira 

Descripsi  docilis  praecepta  haec,  tempore  quo 

me 

Solatus  jussit  sapientem  pascere  barbam, 
Atque  a  Fabricio  non  tristem  ponte  revertt. 
1.  34. 

^f amico 

Arma  dedit,  posthac  ne  compellarer  inultus. 
L297 


APPENDIX.  91 


not  to  be  made  to  apriest;  by  which  alteration 
I  conceive  both  the  good,  in  some  instances, 
and  the  evil,  in  many  more  of  the  Romish 
practice,  is  diminished.  That  good  as  well  as 
evil — beneficial  as  well  as  pernicious  effects 
— have  been  produced  by  auricular  confes- 
sion, I  have  not  a  doubt.  And  this  perhaps 
has  had  its  share  in  the  wide  diffusion,  long 
continuance,  and  partial  restoration  of  the 
practice.  But  the  chief  cause  is,  I  am  con- 
vinced, (as  in  the  case  of  the  other  Romish 
practices,)  that  there  is  a  natural  craving  in 
mankind  for  this  unburdening  of  the  con- 
science, by  confession  to  a  fellow-creature. 
The  Romish  system  has  taken  advantage 
of  this,  by  misinterpreting  the  scriptural  re- 
commendation, to  "  confess  our  sins  one  to 
another,"  as  a  requisition  of  a  regular  and 
complete  periodical  confession,  making  a  por- 
tion of  Christian  disciplne.  And  the  prac- 
tice so  established,  whether  with  Romanists 
or  Protestants,  I  am  convinced  does  evil  ten 
times  oftener,  and  of  ten  thousand  times 
greater  magnitude,  than  good :  nor  can  I 
but  regard  it  as,  practically,  one  of  the  very 
worst  parts  of  Romanism.  Indeed,  my 
chief  reason  for  not  dwelling  on  it  further 
is,  that  I  could  not,  with  propriety,  exhibit 
it  in  its  true  colours,  or  describe  what  I  not 
only  believe,  but  I  may  say,  know,*  respect- 
ing its  effects. 

Enough  however  has  been  said  on  several 
points,  and  perhaps  more  than  enough,  for 
minds  disposed  to  follow  up  a  principle  in 
its  several  applications,  to  show  the  neces- 
sity of  unceasing  vigilance,  and,  not  in- 
deed of  often  repeated  thorough  reformations, 
(which  are  always  attended  with  more  or 
less  evil,)  but,  of  such  perpetual  revision, 
renovation,  purification,  and  progressive  im- 
provement, in  every  system,  as  shall  super- 
sede the  necessity  of  great  changes ;  such 
constant  attention  to  keep  every  thing,  as  it 
were,  in  good  repair,  that  there  shall  be  no 
need  of  totally  pulling  down  and  rebuilding. 

*  See  Dedication. 


I  But  there  is  an  error  common  to  many  of 
those  who  in  other  respects  vary  infinitely  in 
{ their  views  ;  to  many,  both  of  the  adherents 
I  of  the  unreformed  Romish  church,  with  its 
I  long  accumulated  load  of  abuses ;  and  of 
those  who  are  fully  satisfied  with  the  sys- 
tem of  some  reformed  church ;  and  again 
of  those  who  advocate  further  reform,  from 
the  most  extravagant  to  the  most  moderate. 
The  error,  I  mean,  of  conceiving  a  sys- 
tem, whether  actually  existing,  or  ideal,  so 
framed,  as  to  keep  itself  in  good  order; — one 
that  either  is,  or  may  be,  so  wisely  constituted 
as  to  remain  perfect,  or  as  near  as  is  possi- 
ble to  perfection,  without  any  call  for  inces- 
santly watchful  care  on  our  part.  This 
error,  I  say,  is  common  to  men  of  the  most 
opposite  views.  Some  attribute  this  charac- 
ter to  the  church  of  Rome,  as  founded  by 
the  apostles  ;  or  to  some  Protestant  church, 
as  reformed  by  Luther  or  Calvin  j  resigning 
themselves  to  tranquil  security  against  all 
but  external  dangers,  and  apprehending 
none  but  sudden  and  violent  innovations ; 
forgetful  of  the  wise  remark  of  Bacon,  that 
"  Time  is  the  greatest  innovator ;  though 
his  changes  creep  in  so  quietly  as  to  escape 
notice."*  Others,  on  the  contrary,  see  num- 
berless defects,  real  or  imaginary,  in  these 
churches,  and  wish  for  a  total,  or  for  a  par- 
tial change :  still  nattering  themselves,  like 
their  opponents,  that  a  system  once  esta- 
blished on  their  principles  will  continue, 
without  further  care  or  vigilance,  to  answer 
all  its  purposes  for  ever; — in  short,  that  the 
machine  will  go  right,  if  undisturbed,  with- 
out ever  needing  to  be  regulated,  or  to  be 
wound  up.  Never  let  it  be  forgotten,  then, 
that  we  are  beset  by  the  same  truly  chime- 
rical hope,  in  human  affairs,  which  has  mis- 
led so  many  speculators  in  mechanics ;  the 
vain  expectation  of  attaining  the  PER- 
PETUAL MOTION. 


*  "  Novator  maximus,   Tempus 
quod  novationes  ita  insinuat  ut  sensus  fallant." 


THE  END. 


THE 


KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST 

DELINEATED, 


IN  TWO  ESSAYS  ON 


OUR  LORD'S  OWN  ACCOUNT  OF  HIS  PERSON, 


AND  OF 


THE  NATURE  OF  HIS  KINGDOM, 


AND  ON  THE 


CONSTITUTION,  POWERS,  AND  MINISTRY 


OF 


A  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH,  AS  APPOINTED  BY  HIMSELF 


BY  RICHARD  WHATELY,  D.  D. 

ARCHBISHOP  OF  DUBLIN. 


Tloiyae.  (pvrtioi  yv  tvx.  I$VTSVO-£»  o  Trar^  pov  5  ovgoivios  tx^&Qrxrtrai.  —  MATT.  XV.  13 


FROM  THE  LAST  LONDON  EDITION,  WITH  ADDITIONS. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

JAMES   M.  CAMPBELL  '&  CO.,  98  CHESTNUT    STREET. 
NEW  YORK:— SAXTON  &  MILES,  205  BROADWAY. 

STEREOTYPED  BY  C.  W.  MURRAY  &  CO. 

1843. 


TO    THE    CANDIDATES   WHO    RECEIVED 

ORDINATION 

AT    CHRIST    CHURCH,    DUBLIN,    NOVEMBER,    MDCCCXL. 
TO    THE    LORD   BISHOP    OF   MEATH,   WHOSE 

CONSECRATION 

TOOK    PLACE    IN   THE    SAME    CHURCH,   DECEMBER,  MDCCCXL. 

AND 

TO    THE    BISHOPS    AND    CLERGY   OF   THE    PROVINCE    OF   DUBLIN, 
AVHO    ATTENDED    THE    TRIENNIAL 

VISITATION 
HELD   IN   AUGUST   AND   SEPTEMBER,   MDCCCXLI. 

THIS  VOLUME, 

CONTAINING   THE    SUBSTANCE    OF   THE    DISCOURSES   DELIVERED 
ON   THOSE    OCCASIONS,   RESPECTIVELY, 

IS   INSCRIBED, 

WITH    EARNEST    WISHES    FOR    THEIR    PRESENT    AND    ETERNAL    WELFARE, 
BY    THEIR    SINCERE    FRIEND   AND    FELLOW   LABOURER, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS. 


ESSAY  I. 

1.  CHRIST'S  own  Account  of  Himself  and 

of  his  Kingdom  at  his  two  trials 

2.  His  Trial  and  Condemnation  by  the 

Jewish  Council       - 

3.  Jesus,  the  Son  of  God,  in  a  peculiar 

sense      ------ 

4.  Christ    charged    with    Blasphemy,  as 

claiming  to  be  the  Son  of  God,  in  a 
sense  authorizing  adoration    - 

5.  Proofs  that  he  was  so  understood 

6.  A  Divine  Messiah  not  expected  by  the 

Jews      ------ 

7.  Proofs  that  the  sense  in  which  he  was 

understood,  was  that  which  he  de- 
signed   ------ 

8.  His  testimony  concerning  himself  at  his 

trial,  must  have  been  true 

9.  His  declarations  concerning  himself,  at 

his  second  trial, — that  before  Pilate 

10.  Sense  in  which  his  disclaimer  of  a 

Kingdom  of   this  world,  is  to  be 
understood      -         -        -         -        - 

11.  Impiety  of  attributing  to  him  a  hidden 

meaning         -,-.-.« 

12.  Spiritual  societies  and  secular,  not  to 

be  confounded        -         -        -         - 

13.  Intolerance,  a  natural  accompaniment 

of  insincerity  ;  tolerance  the  fruit  of 
Christian  faith  and  knowledge 


ESSAY  II. 

1.  CHRISTIANITY  designed  to  be  a  social 

religion  - 

2.  Properties  of  a  community 

3.  Rights  divinely  conferred  on  a  Chris- 

tian community       - 

4.  Constitution  of  the  Jewish  Church 

5.  How  the  Disciples  would  understand 

the  commission  given  them     - 

6.  Penalties  for  Ecclesiastical  offences     - 

7.  Power  of  the  Keys     -        -        -        - 

8.  Procedure  of  the  Disciples  in  conform- 

ity with  their  Master's  directions 

9.  Christian  Churches  derived  from  Syna- 

gogues - 

10.  Scanty  records    of  what    relates    to 

Church  government,  and  copious,  of 
moral  and  doctrinal  instructions 

11.  Remarkable  circumstances  in  matters 

of  detail  which  they  do  record 

12.  Internal  evidence  of  the  Gospel  result- 

ing from  the  above  views 

13.  Things  enjoined,  things  excluded,  and 

things  left  at  large 

14.  Christianity  a  religion  without  sacrifice, 

altar,  priest  or  temple    • 


10 


10 


14 


15 


15 


16 


13 


19 


21 


30 


31 


31 


34 


15.  The  Christian  Church  Universal  has 

no  one  spiritual  head  on  earth 

16.  Importance  of  points  excluded    - 

17.  Contrary  errors  opposed  to  the  above 

principles        - 

18.  Church  Ordinances  removed  from  a 

firm  foundation  and  placed  on  one  of 
sand 

19.  The  English  Reformers  chose  the  true 

foundation 

20.  Pretended  Church  Principles  fatal  to 

the  Christian  hopes  and  privileges, 
even  of  their  advocates 

21.  Appeal  to  the   practice  of  the  early 

Churches,  an  argument  inaccessible 
to  the  great  mass  of  Christians 

22.  Pretended  decisions  of  the   Catholic 

Church  -        .        .        -        - 

23.  Appeals  to  supposed  decisions,  &c.  of 

the  Catholic  Church,  as  superfluous 
as  they  are  unsound 

24.  The  Articles,  the  Symbol  embodying 

the    deliberate     decisions    of    our 
Church 

25.  Pretended  distinctions  between  co-ordi- 

nate and  subordinate  tradition 

26.  Alleged  importance  of  human  teaching 

27.  Use  and  abuse  of  human  instruction 

28.  The  System  of  Reserve    - 

29.  Unsound  reasons  brought  in.    aid  of 

sound  ones     -        -        -        -        - 

30.  Difficulty    of  ascertaining    unbroken 

succession  in  the  case  of  individuals 

31.  Increased  danger  of  Schism 

32.  Irregular  formations  of  Christian  com- 

munities         .        -        -        -        - 

33.  Presumption  in  favour  of  the  Church 

to  which  one  actually  belongs 

34.  Apprehension  of  what  is  called  unset- 

tling men's  minds  - 

35.  Supposed  case  neither  an  impossible 

one,  nor  useless  even  if  it  were  so 

36.  Cases  of  a  moral  necessity  for  Sepa- 

ration 

37.  Mistakes  to   be  guarded    against  by 

reformers  when  compelled  to  sepa- 
ration     ------ 

38.  Certain  views  seductive  to  the  feelings 

and  Imagination  - 

39.  Case  of  deposed  Bishops  and  Presby- 

ters        ------ 

40.  System  of   traditionists  incapable  of 

being  supported  by  clear  argument 

41.  Fallacies  resorted  to  on  religious  sub- 

jects      ------ 

42.  False  views  of  what  is  Christian  Faith 

and  Humility          -        -         -        - 

43.  Principles  of  the  Anglican  Reformers 

Appendix         ------ 


PAGE 

36 
38 

38 


40 


43 


44 


49 


50 

52 
53 
55 
55 

57 

58 
60 

61 
63 
63 
65 
65 


66 
68 
70 
71 

72 

73 
74 

75 


PREFACE. 


THE  following  Essays  contain  the  substance  of  some  Discourses  not  originally 
designed  for  the  Press,  but  which  I  was  strongly  urged  to  publish  by  several  of  ths 
persons  to  whom  the  Volume  is  inscribed.* 

I  have  endeavoured  to  throw  the  materials  into  a  form  more  suited  for  private 
perusal  than  that  of  the  Discourses  originally  delivered.  I  fear,  however,  that  in 
consequence  of  frequent  interruptions  during  the  preparation  of  the  work  for  the 
Press,  some  defects  may  be  found  in  the  arrangement  and  comparative  develope- 
ment  of  the  several  topics,  and  other  such  imperfections  in  the  compositions,  which 
can  only  be  effectually  guarded  against  by  means  of  a  period  of  unbroken  leisure 
beyond  what  I  can  ever  reasonably  expect. 

But  whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  Work  as  a  Composition,  I  trust  that,  in 
respect  of  the  matter  of  it,  the  reader  will  give  me  credit  for  being  incapable  of 
putting  forth,  on  subjects  so  important,  any  views  that  have  not  been  carefully 
considered. 

In  fact,  among  the  subjects  here  treated  of  are  some  on  which  I  have  not  only 
reflected  much,  but  have  written  and  published  from  time  to  time  for  above  twelve 
years. 

And  it  may  not  be  impertinent  here  to  remark,  that  in  respect  of  some  most  im-~| 
portant  points  now  maintained,  I  may  appeal  (besides  the  arguments  contained  in 
the  following  pages)  to  the  strongest  of  all  external  confirmations,  the  testimony 
of  opponents.  Not  that  I  have  ever  written  in  a  polemical  form,  or  sought  to  pro- 
voke controversy ;  but  by  opponents,  I  mean  those  who  have  maintained,  and  who 
still  maintain,  opinions  opposite  to  those  I  have  put  forth ;  but  who  have  never,  to 
the  best  of  my  knowledge,  even  attempted  any  refutation  of  the  reasons  I  have 
adduced. 

For  instance,  that  the  introduction  into  the  Christian  Religion  of  Sacrifices  and 
Sacrificing  Priests  is  utterly  at  variance  with  the  whole  System  of  the  Gospel,  and 
destructive  of  one  of  its  most  important  characteristics;  and,  again,  that  the 
implicit  deference  due  to  the  declarations  and  precepts  of  Holy  Scripture,  is  due  to 
nothing  else,  and  that  it  is  not  humble  piety,  but  profane  presumption,  either  to 
attribute  infallibility  to  the  traditions  or  decision  of  any  uninspired  Man  or  Body  of 
men,  (whether  Church,  Council,  Fathers,  or  by  whatever  other  title  designated,)  or, 
still  more,  to  acknowledge  in  these,  although  fallible,  a  right  to  fix  absolutely  the 
interpretation  of  Scripture,  to  be  blended  therewith,  and  to  supersede  all  private 
judgment, — these  are  positions  which  1  have  put  forth,  from  time  to  time,  for  many 
years  past,  in  various  forms  of  expression,  and  supported  by  a  variety  of  arguments, 
in  several  different  works,  some  of  which  have  appeared  in  more  than  one  edition. 
And  though  opposite  vieVs  are  maintained  by  many  writers  of  the  present  day, 
several  of  them  professed  members  of  the  Church  of  England,  I  have  never  seen 
even  an  attempted  refutation  of  any  of  those  arguments. 

It  cannot  be  alleged  that  they  are  not  worth  noticing :  since  whether  intrinsically 
weak  or  strong,  the  reception  they  have  met  with  from  the  Public  indicates  their 
having  had  some  influence. 

And  again^'if  any  one  is  averse  to  entering  into  controversy,  and  especially  per^] 
sonal  controversy,  (a  feeling  with  which  I  cordially  sympathize,)  this  would  not 
compel  him  to  leave  wholly  unnoticed  all  the  arguments  that  can  be  urged  against 
his  views.     It  would  be  absurd  to  speak  as  if  there  were  no  medium  between,  on 
the  one  hand,  engaging  in  a  controversy,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  passing  over  with-  ; 

*  In  the  earlier  part  of  the  first  Essay,  I  have  been  much  indebted  to  a  valuable  Work  which,  for 
several  years,  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  recommending  to  divinity  students, — "Wilson  on  the  In- 
terpretation of  the  New  Testament,"  [published  by  Parker,  West  Strand.]  In  the  first  edition  this 
notice,  though  referred  to  in  a  foot  note  to  §  6,  (as  if  inserted,)  was  accidentally  omitted  in  this  place. 

vii 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

out  any  notice  at  all,  every  thing  that  ever  has  been,  or  may  be,  urged  on  the  op- 
posite side.  Nothing  is  easier  or  more  common,  and  I  should  add,  nothing  more 
advisable,  than  to  notice  in  general  terms  the  opinions  or  arguments  opposed  to 
one's  own,  and  without  reference  to  any  particular  book  or  author  :  as  by  saying, 
for  instance,  "Such  and  such  a  doctrine  has  been  held;"  —  "this  or  that  may  be 
alleged  ;"  —  "  some  persons  may  object  so  and  so,"  &c.  In  this  way,  not  only  per- 
sonal controversy  may  be  avoided,  without  undue  neglect  of  what  may  be  said  on 
the  opposite  side,  but  also  the  advantage  is  gained  (to  the  cause  of  truth,  I  mean)  of 
confining1  the  reader's  attention  to  the  real  merits  of  the  case,  independently  of  the 
extraneous  circumstances,*  which  ought  not  to  influence  the  decision. 

It  is  true,  no  one  should  be  required  to  notice  every  minor  objection,  —  -every  diffi- 
culty relative  to  points  of  detail,  —  that  may  be  alleged  against  any  principle  or 
system  he  is  contending  for;  since  there  may  be  even  valid  objections  against  each 
of  two  opposite  conclusions.!1'  But  this  does  not  affect  the  present  case  ;  the  argu- 
ments I  am  alluding  to  having  relation  to  fundamental  principles.  Whatever  any 
one  may  think  of  the  soundness  of  those  arguments,  no  one  can  doubt  that,  if  ad- 
mitted, they  go  to  prove  that  the  system  contended  against  is  (not  merely  open  to 
objections,  but)  radically  wrong  throughout  ;  based  on  false  assumptions,  supported 
by  none  but  utterly  fallacious  reasoning,  and  leading  to  the  most  pernicious  conse- 
quences. 

And  these  arguments,  though  it  is  riot  for  me  to  say  that  they  are  unanswerable, 
have  certainly  been  hitherto,  as  far  as  I  know,  wholly  unanswered,  even  by  those 
who  continue  to  advocate  opposite  conclusions. 

Should  it  be  asked  why  they  do  not  either  abandon  those  conclusions,  or  else 
attempt  a  refutation  of  the  reasons  urged  against  them,  that  is  evidently  not  a  ques- 
tion for  me,  but  for  them,  to  answer.  Else,  an  answer  is  not  unlikely  to  occur  to 
some  minds,  in  the  words  of  the  homely  proverb,  "  he  that's  convinced  against  his 
will,  is  of  his  own  opinion  still." 

It  is  only,  however,  in  reference  to  the  subject-matter  itself  of  the  question  under 
discussion  —  to  the  intrinsic  soundness  of  the  conclusions  advocated  —  that  the 
opinions  and  procedure  of  individuals  can  be  worth  the  attention  of  the  general 
reader.  All  that  I  wish  to  invite  notice  to  is,  the  confirmation  that  is  afforded  to 
the  conclusiveness  of  arguments  to  which  no  answer  is  attempted,  even  by  those 
who  continue  to  maintain  doctrines  at  variance  with  them. 

All  that  has  been  said  in  reference  to  the  positions  above  alluded  to  (which  are 
among  those  maintained  in  the  second  of  these  Essays)  will  apply  equally  to  some 
of  those  maintained  in  the  first  Essay  :  for  instance,  that  to  attempt  the  propagation 
or  support  of  Gospel  truth  by  secular  force,  or  by  establishing  in  behalf  of  Chris- 
tians, as  such,  a  monopoly  of  civil  rights,  is  utterly  at  variance  with  the  true  cha- 
racter of  Christ's  Kingdom,  and  with  the  teaching  and  practice  of  Himself  and  his 
Apostles  ;J  and  that  to  attribute  to  them  any  such  design,  is  to  impugn  their  cha- 
racter, not  merely  as  inspired  Messengers  from  Heaven,  but  even  as  sincere  and 
upright  men. 

These  conclusions  have  been  maintained  by  arguments  which  have  been  as  long 
before  the  Public  §  as  the  others  above  alluded  to,  and  have  remained  equally  un- 
answered. 

If  in  these,  or  in  any  other  points,  I  am  in  error,  I  trusf  I  shall  be  found  open  to 
conviction  whenever  my  errors  shall  be  pointed  out.  In  the  mean  time,  I  trust  I 
shall  not  be  thought  to  have  been  unprofitably  employed,  in  endeavouring  more 
fully  to  elucidate,  and  to  confirm  by  additional  arguments,  what  appear  to  me  to  be 
momentous  truths,  and  in  developing  some  of  the  most  important  of  the  practical 
conclusions  which  result  from  them. 

In  the  present  edition  a  few  notes  have  been  added  in  further  illustration  of 
the  principles  maintained  ;  and  here  and  there  a  sentence  has  been  slightly  altered 
in  expression,  in  order  to  guard,  as  far  as  lies  in  myself,  against  all  danger  of  mis- 
apprehension. 


J 


*  "E^u  TW  TT^dyfAAToc,  Arist.  Rhet.  ^  -j-  See  Logic,  b.  iii.  §17. 

$  See  a  very  interesting  pamphlet  on  the  present  condition  of  the  Vaudois.  (Murray,  Albemarle 
Street.) 

§  Particularly  in  the  Essay  "  On  Persecution/'  (Third  Series,)  and  in  Appendix  E.  and  F.  to  the 
Essays  "  On  the  Dangers,"  &c.,  (Fourth  Series.) 


ESSAY  I. 


ON  CHRIST'S  OWN  ACCOUNT  OF  HIS  PERSON,  AND  ON  THE  NATURE  OF  HIS  KINGDOM, 

AS   SET  FORTH  AT  HIS   TWO  TRIALS. 


AOAO2     IV 


GtVTOV  . 


§  1.  To  any  one  who  is  convinced  of 
the  divine  origin  of  the  Christian  Re- 
ligion,— who  is  satisfied  that  what  is  called 
in  Scripture  "  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven" 
does  really  deserve  that  title, — and  who  is 
inquiring  into  the  personal  character  of 
its  Founder,  and  into  the  nature  of  that 
Kingdom  which  He  proclaimed  and  estab- 
lished, the  most  obvious  and  natural 
course  would  seem  to  be,  to  appeal,  in  the 
first  instance,  to  that  Founder  himself,  and 
to  consider  what  account  He  gave  of  his 
own  character  and  that  of  his  kingdom. 
For  to  believe  Him  sent  from  God,  is  to 
believe  Him  incapable  of  either  deceiving 
or  being  deceived,  as  to  these  points.  He 
must  have  understood  both  his  own  per- 
sonal nature,  and  the  principles  of  the  re- 
ligion He  was  divinely  commissioned  to 
introduce.  Having  a  full  reliance  there- 
fore both  on  his  unerring  knowledge,  and 
his  perfect  veracity,  our  first  inquiry 
should  be,  as  I  have  said,  (without  any 
disparagement  of  other  sources  of  instruc- 
tion,) into  the  accounts  He  gave  of  Him- 
self and  his  religion;  both  in  the  various 
discourses  which  He  delivered  arid  de- 
clarations which  He  made,  on  sundry 
occasions,  and,  most  especially,  on  the 
great  and  final  occasion  of  his  being  tried 
and  condemned  to  death. 

We  collect  from  the  sacred  historians 
that  He  underwent  two  trials,  before  two 
distinct  tribunals,  and  on  charges  totally 
different;  that  on  the  one  occasion  He 
was  found  guilty,  and  on  the  other,  ac- 
quitted; and  that  ultimately  He  was  put 
to  death  under  the  one  Authority  in  com- 
pliance with  the  condemnation  which 
had  been  pronounced  by  the  other. 

He  was  tried  first  before  the  Sanhe- 
drim, (the  Jewish  Council,)  "for  blas- 
phemy," and  pronounced  "guilty  of 
death."  Before  the  Roman  governor, 
Pilate,  (and  probably  before  Herod  also,) 
He  was  tried  for  rebellion,  in  setting  up 
B 


pretensions  subversive  of  the  existing 
Government;  and  was  pronounced  not 
guilty.  The  Jewish  rulers  had  the  will, 
but  not  the  power,  to  inflict  capital  pu- 
nishment on  Him;  Pilate  had  the  power, 
and  not  the  will.  But  though  he  "  found 
no  fault  in  Him,"  he  was  ultimately  pre- 
vailed on  by  the  Jews  to  inflict  their 
sentence  of  death.  "  We*  have  a  law," 
they,  urged,  "and  by  our  law  He  ought 
to  die,  because  He  made  Himself  the  Son 
of  God." 

Of  this  most  interesting  and  important 
portion  of  the  sacred  narrative,  many  per- 
sons, I  believe,  have  a  somewhat  indistinct 
and  confused  notion;  partly  from  the 
brevity,  scantiness,  and  indeed  incom- 
pleteness, of  each  of  the  four  narratives, 
when  taken  alone;  each  evangelist  re- 
cording, it  may  be  supposed,  such  cir- 
cumstances, as  he  was  the  most  struck 
with,  and  had  seen  or  heard  the  most  of: 
and  partly,  again,  from  the  commonly 
prevailing  practice  of  reading  the  Scrip- 
ture-histories irregularly,  and  in  detached 
fragments,  taken  indiscriminately  and  with- 
out any  fixed  object,  out  of  different 
books/f 

This  indistinctness  a  reader  of  ordinary 
intelligence  may  I  think  very  easily  clear 
away,  by  attentively  studying  and  com- 
paring together  all  the  four  accounts  that 
have  come  down  to  us  :  and  he  will  then 
find  that  this  portion  of  the  history  so 
examined,  will  throw  great  light  on  some 
of  the  most  important  points  of  Gospel 
truth; — on  those  two  great  questions 


*  'H/U&  is  expressed  in  the  original. 

•f-  The  whole  of  the  New  Testament  is  read  in 
this  irregular  mode,  in  the  Second  Lessons  ap- 
pointed in  our  service;  as  these  are  appointed  in 
reference  to  the  day  of  the  month  only ;  and  it  is 
consequently  a  matter  of  chance  which  of  them 
shall  fall  on  Sunday.  This  is  one  of  the  imper- 
fections which  a  Church-government,  if  we  had 
one,  would  not  fail  to  remedy.  See  Appendix 
to  the  Second  Essay, 

9 


10 


CHRIST'S  CONDEMNATION. 


especially  which  were  alluded  to  in  the 
outset,  as  to  the  fundamental  character 
of  "  the  kingdom  of  Heaven,'1  and  the 
person  of  its  Founder. 

§  2.  When  the  Jewish  Rulers  and  Peo- 
ple were  clamorously  demanding  the 
death  of  Jesus  under  sentence  of  the 
Roman  Authorities,  and  Pilate  in  answer 
declared,  that  before  his — the  Roman — 
tribunal,  no  crime  had  been  proved,  say- 
ing, uTake  ye  Him  and  judge  Him  ac- 
cording to  your  law,"  his  intention  evi- 
dently was  that  no  heavier  penalty  should 
be  inflicted  than  the  scourging  which  was 
the  utmost  that  the  Jewish  Authorities 
were  permitted  to  inflict.  But  they  replied 
that  the  crime  of  which  they  had  convicted 
Him  was,  by  their  law,  capital,  while 
yet  they  were  restricted  by  the  Romans 
ifrom  inflicting  capital  punishment;  ("  it  j 
is  not  lawful  for  us  to  put  any  man  to 
death ;")  on  which  ground  accordingly 
they  called  on  the  Governor  to  execute 
the  capital  sentence  of  their  Court. 

Their  clamours  prevailed,  through  Pi- 
late's apprehension  of  a  tumult,*  and  of 
himself  incurring  suspicions  of  disloyalty 
towards  the  Emperor;  which  they  had 
endeavoured  to  awaken  by  crying  out  that 
u  if  he  let  this  man  go,  he  was  not  Caesar's 
friend :  whosoever  maketh  himself  a  king, 
speaketh  against  Ca3sar."  But  this  was 
only  brought  forward  as  a  plea  to  influ- 
ence Pilate.  The  trial  before  the  Jewish 
Council  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  Ro- 
man Emperor,  but  was  for  "  blasphemy," 
because  u  He  made  Himself  the  SON  OF 
GOD." 

It  is  important,  therefore,  to  inquire, — 
since  this  phrase  may  conceivably  bear 
more  than  one  meaning, — in  what  sense 
it  was  understood  by  those  who  founded 
on  it  the  sentence  of  death. 

In  a  certain  sense  all  mankind  may  be 
called  children  of  God/f  In  a  more  espe- 

*  It  seems  to  have  been  not  unusual  for  the  Ro- 
man Governors  of  Provinces  to  endeavour  thus  to 
prevent,  or  mitigate,  or  cut  short,  any  tumult  not 
directed  against  the  Roman  power  itself,  by  yield- 
ing to  the  wishes  of  the  populace,  however  unrea- 
sonable, or  conniving  at  their  disorders.  A  sort 
of  compromise  was  thus  made  with  the  most  tur- 
bulent and  violent  among  them;  who,  provided 
they  made  no  attempt  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of  a 
foreign  Power,  were  permitted  to  sacrifice  a  fellow 
citizen  to  their  lawless  fury.  Thus  Gallio  at  Co- 
rinth left  the  rioters  to  settle  their  own  disputes  as 
they  would ;  (Acts  xviii. ;)  and  the  magistrates  at 
Philippi  readily  and  spontaneously  gratified  the 
populace  by  seconding  and  sanctioning  their  un- 
just violence,  Pilate  on  this  occasion  did  so, 
tardily  and  reluctantly. 

j-  (Acts  xvii.)  .  .  "  for  we  are  also  his  children." 


cial  manner, — in  a  higher  sense, — those 
are  often  called  his  children  whom  He  has 
from  time  to  time  chosen  to  be  his  "  pe- 
culiar People," — to  have  his  will  revealed 
to  them,  and  his  offers  of  especial  favour 
set  before  them.  Such  were  the  Israelites 
of  old  (to  whom  the  title  of  Son  is  ac- 
cordingly assigned  by  the  Lord  himself, 
Exod.  iv.  22,)  as  being  the  chosen  or 
u  elect"  people  of  God,  called  from  among 
all  the  nations  of  the  world  to  receive  di- 
rect communications,  and  especial  bless- 
ings from  their  Heavenly  Father.  And  the 
like  privilege  of  peculiar  "  Sonship,"  (only 
in  a  far  higher  degree,)  was  extended  af- 
terwards to  all  nations  who  should  em- 
brace the  Gospel ;  "  who  aforetime"  (says 
the  Apostle  Peter)  "  were  not  a  People, 
but  now  are  the  People  of  God."  And 
Paul  uses  like  expressions  continually 
in  addressing  his  converts,  whether  they 
walked  worthy  of  their  high  calling  or-not. 

Yet  again,  still  more  especially,  those 
who  do  avail  themselves  of  the  privileges 
offered  to  them,  and  "  walk  as  Children 
of  the  light,"  are  spoken  of  as,  in  another 
and  a  superior  way,  the  u  Sons"  of  Him 
whom  they  love  and  submit  to  as  a  Fa- 
ther :  i;  as  many,"  says  Paul,  u  as  are  led 
by  the  Spirit  of  God,  they  are  the  Sons 
of  God." 

Those  Patriarchs,  and  Prophets  again, 
to  whom  of  old  God  revealed  Himself 
immediately,  and  made  them  the  means 
of  communication  between  Himself  and 
other  men, — his  messengers  to  his  Peo- 
ple,— and  endowed  with  miraculous  pow- 
ers as  the  credentials  of  a  heavenly  em- 
bassy,— to  such  men  as  having  a  peculiar 
kind  of  divine  presence  with  them,  we 
might  conceive  the  title  of  Children  of 
God  to  be' applicable  in  a  different  sense, 
as  distinguishing  them  from  uninspired 
men. 

Now  it  is  a  most  important  practical 
question  whether  Jesus,  the  Author  and 
Finisher  of  our  faith, — He  to  whom  we 
are  accustomed  emphatically  to  apply  the 
title  of  <"  the,  Son  of  God," — was  so  de- 
signated, in  the  Angel's  first  announce- 
ment, and  on  so  many  occasions  after- 
wards, merely  as  being  an  inspired  mes- 
senger from  heaven,  or  in  some  different 
and  higher  sense;  and  what  that  higher 
sense  is. 

§  3.  And  first,  that  Jesus  is  spoken  of 
in  Scripture  as  the  Son  of  God,  in  some 
different  sense  from  any  other  person,  is 
evident  at  once  from  the  very  circum- 
stance of  his  being  styled  "  the  only  be- 
gotten Son ;"  which  title  is  particularly 


CHRIST  CHARGED   WITH  BLASPHEMY. 


11 


dwelt  on  when  He  is  speaking  of  Him- 
self, (John  iii.)  This  is  a  further  stage 
in  the  revelation  given  ;  for  the  Angel  had 
not  told  Mary  that  He  should  be  "  the  Son 
of  God,"  (though  it  is  so  rendered  in  our 
version)  but  only  "  a  Son  of  God,"  vlo$ 


I  need  not  multiply  the  citations  of  pas- 
sages of  which  so  many  must  be  familiar 
to  every  one  even  tolerably  well-read  in 
the  New-Testament.  But  there  is  one 
tha.  is  peculiarly  worthy  of  attention,  on 
account  of  the  care  which  divine  Provi- 
dence then  displayed  in  guarding  the  dis- 
ciples against  the  mistake  of  supposing 
Jesus  to  be  merely  one  —  though  the  most 
eminent  one  —  of  the  Prophets.  In  the 
transfiguration  "  on  the  Mount,"  three  fa- 
voured Apostles  beheld  their  Master  sur- 
rounded with  that  dazzling  supernatural 
light  which  had  always  been  to  the  Is- 
raelites the  sign  of  a  divine  manifestation, 
and  which  we  find  so  often  mentioned  in 
the  Old  Testament  as  the  Glory  of  the 
Lord  —  the  Shechinah  ;  —  which  appeared 
on  Mount  Sinai,  —  on  the  Tabernacle  in 
the  Wilderness,  —  in  Solomon's  Temple, 
&LC.:  and  they  beheld  at  the  same  time,  in 
company  with  Him,  two  persons,  each  of 
whom  had  been  seen  in  their  lifetime  ac- 
companied by  this  outward  mark  of  su- 
pernatural light;  Moses,  their  great  law- 


giver, 


whose  "face  shone  when  he  came 


down  from  Mount  Sinai,  so  that  the  Is- 
raelites could  not  fix  their  eyes  on  it,  and 
Elias  (Elijah),  their  most  illustrious  Pro- 
phet, who  was  seen  borne  away  from  the 
earth  in  that  Shechinah  appearing  as  a 
"  chariot  and  horses  of  fire  :"  and  now, 
these  same  two  persons  were  seen  along 
with  Jesus.  It  might  naturally  have  oc- 
curred to  the  three  disciples  (perhaps 
some  such  idea  was  indicated  by  the  in- 
coherent words  which  dropped  from  them) 
— the  thought  might  have  occurred  to 
them, — were  Moses  and  Elias  also  Em- 
manuels ? — were  all  three,  manifestations 
of  "  God  dwelling  with  his  People  ?"  and 
was  Jesus  merely  the  greatest  of  the 
three  ?  To  correct,  as  it  should  seem, 
any  such  notion,  it  was  solemnly  an- 
nounced to  them  that  their  Master  was  a 
Being  of  a  different  character  from  the 
others  :  t;  there  came  a  voice  out  of  the 
cloud,  saying.  This  is  my  beloved  SON: 
hear  H'm."  And  on  two  other  occa- 
sions we  read  of  the  same  signs  being 


different  and  superior  sense  from  that  in 
which  any  other  could  be  so  called.  But 
what  was  the  sense,  it  may  be  asked,  in 
which  they  did  understand  the  title  ?  Did 
the  people  of  that  time  and  country  under- 
stand that  God  was  with  Him,  not  only 
in  some  such  way  as  He  never  was  with 
any  other  man,  but  so  as  to  permit  and 
require9 divine  worship  to  be  addressed  to 
God  in  Christ  ?  Many  passages  by  which 
this  tenet  is  supported  are  commonly  cited 
from  the  Evangelists  and  Apostles ;  but  I 
wish  at  present  to  confine  myself  to  the 
expression  "the  Son  of  God,"  and  to  in- 
quire in  what  sense  that  word  was  under- 
stood at  the  time. 

1  Waiving  then  all  abstruse  disquisition 
on  the  notions  conveyed  by  such  terms 
as  "  consubstantiality" — "  personality," 
— hypostatic-union," — u  eternal  filiation," 
and  the  like,  (oftener  I  conceive  debated 
about  with  eagerness  than  clearly  under- 
stood.) let  us  confine  ourselves  to  such 
views  as  we  may  presume  the  Apostles  to 
have 'laid  before  the  converts  they  were  in- 
structing ;  who  were  most  of  them  plain 
unlearned  persons,  to  whom  such  abstruse 
disquisitions  as  I  have  been  alluding  to 
must  have  been  utterly  unintelligible  ;  but 
who,  nevertheless,  where  called  on, — all 
of  them,  of  whatever  age,  sex,  station, 
and  degree  of  intellectual  education, — to 
receive  the  Gospel,  and  to  believe,  and 
feel,  and  act,  as  that  Gospel  enjoined. 

There  is  one  great  practical  point  clearly 
intelligible  to  all,  thus  far,  at  least,  that 
they  can  understand  what  the  question  is 
that  is  under  discussion,  and  which  it  is, 
and  ever  must  have  been,  needful  to  bring 
before  all  Christians  without  exception  : 
viz.,  whether  there  is  that  divine  charac- 
ter in  the  Lord  Jesus  which  entitles  Him. 
to  our  adoration : — whether  He  is  the  Son 
of  God  in  such  a  sense  as  to  authorize 
those  who  will  worship  none  but  the  one 
God,  to  worship  Jesus  Christ ;  so  that  all 
men*  should  honour  the  Son  even  as  they 
honour  the  Father." 

Now  there  is  a  maxim  relative  to  the 
right  interpretation  of  any  passage  of  Scrip- 
ture, so  obvious  when  stated,  that  it  seems 
strange  it  should  be  so  often  overlooked  ; 
viz.  to  consider  in  what  sense  the  words 
were  understood  by  the  generality  of  the 
persons  they  were  addressed  to;  and  to 
keep  in  mind  that  the  presumption  is  in 
favour  of  that,  as  the  true  sense,  unless 


given.  I  reasons  to  the  contrary  shall  appear. 

§  4.     No  one  can  doubt  then,  that  those  k     Some  are  accustomed  to  consider  what 

who  believed  in  Jesus  at  all,  must  have  be- 1  

lieved  Him  to  be  the  Son  of  God  in  a  far  I  *  John  v.  23. 


12 


CHRIST'S  CLAIM  OF  SONSHIP. 


sense  such  and  such  words  can  be 
brought  to  hear',  or  how  we  should  be 
most  naturally  inclined  to  understand 
them  :  but  it  is  evident  that  the  point  we 
have  to  consider,  if  we  would  under- 
stand aright  what  it  is  that  God  did  design 
to  reveal,  is,  the  sense  (as  far  as  we  can 
ascertain  it)  which  the  very  hearers  of 
Christ  and  his  Apostles  did  actually  at- 
tach to  their  words.  For  we  may  be 
sure  that  if  this  was,  in  any  case,  a  mis- 
taken sense,  a  correction  of  the  mistake 
(if  it  relate  to  any  important  practical 
point)  will  be  found  in  some  part  of  the 
Sacred  Writings. 

However  strange  therefore  it  may  seem 
to  any  one  that  the  phrase  "  Son  of  God" 
should  have  been  so  understood  as  it  was 
at  the  time,  and  however  capable  of  ano- 
ther sense  it  may  appear  to  us,  still,  the 
sense  which  Jesus  and  his  Apostles  meant 


them  against  it.  Such  a  one  would  be 
doubly  bound  to  make  such  explanations 
and  such  disavowals  as  should  effectually 
guard  his  disciples  against  falling  into  the 
error — through  any  thing  said  or  done  by 
himself — of  paying  adoration  to  a  Being 
not  divine :  even  as  the  Apostle  Peter 
warns  the  Centurion  Cornelius  against  the 
adoration  which  he  suspected  that  Corne- 
lius designed  to  offer  him  ;  saying,  "  stand 
up,  I  myself  also  am  a  man."  Jesus  of 
course  would  have  taken  care  to  give  a 
like  warning,  if  He  had  been  conscious 
of  not  having  a  claim  to  be  considered  as 
divine,  and  had  at  the  same  time  been 
aware  that  the  title  of  Son  of  God  would 
be  understood  as  implying  that  claim. 

That  the  title  was  so  understood,  is  the 
point  to  which  I  am  now  calling  the  read- 
ej's  attention. 

§  5.    On   one  occasion,  when  he  had 


to  convey,  must  have  been  that,  whatever  i  riealed  a  cripple  on  the  Sabbath-day,  and 
it  was,  in  which  they  knew  thai  their  hear-  '•  had  commanded  him  immediately  "  to 
ers  understood  them.  !  take  up  his  bed"  (which  was  a  work  pro- 

And  what  this  meaning  was,  may  1  hibited  by  the  Jewish  law)  He  vindicates 
think  be  settled  even  by  the  testimony  of  himself  against  his  opponents  by  saying 
his  adversaries  alone,  as  to  the  sense  in  "  My  Father  worketh  hitherto,*  and  J 
which  they  understood  Him.  They  work ;"  or,  as  it  might  be  rendered  more 
charged  Him,  not  only  on  his  trial,  but  clearly,  according  to  our  modern  usage, 
on  many  other  occasions  also,  with  "bias-  |  "My  father  has  been  working  up  to  this 
phemy,"  as  "making  Himself  God," — ;  time;"  (that  is,  ever  since  the  creation,  the 
"  making  himself  equal  with  God  ;""  and  operations  of  God  have  been  going  on 
threatened  to  "  stone  Him,"  according  to  throughout  the  universe,  on  all  days  alike;) 
the  law  of  Moses  against  blasphemers  ;  and  I  work  ;"  I  claim  the  right  to  perform, 
understanding  blasphemy  to  comprehend  ,  and  to  authorize  others  to  perform,  what- 
the  crime  of  enticing  the  People  to  wor-  \  ever  and  whenever  I  see  iit.f  "  Therefore 
(ship  any  besides  the  one  true  God,  Jeho-  I  the  Jews"  (says  the  Evangelist)  <•<-  sought 
vah.*  j  the  more  to  kill  Him,  because  He  not  only 

Now  if  they  had  misunderstood  his  had  broken  the  Sabbath,  but  said  also  that 
words,  and  had  supposed  his  language  to  !  God  was  his  [proper]  Father  ;  making  him- 
imply  a  claim  to  such  divine  honour  as  \  self  equal  with  GW.J 
He  did  not  really  mean  to  claim,  we  may  |  On  another  occasion  (John  x.  33)  when 
be  sure  that  any  one — I  do  not  say  mere-  !  He  had  said  "  I  and  the  Father  are  one," 
ly,  any  inspired  messenger  from  heaven, ;  the  Je  \vswere  about  to  stone  Him  for  bias- 
but — any  man  of  common  integrity,  i  phemy,  "  because  (said  they)  thou  being 
would  at  once  have  disavowed  the  impu- '  a  man  makest  thyself  God."  He  defends 
tation,  and  explained  his  real  meaning.  |  Himself  by  alleging  a  passage  of  their 
If  any  Christian  ministers,  in  these  days,  j  Scripture  in  which  the  title  of"  God"  is  ap- 
or  at  any  time,  were  to  have  used  some  I  plied  to  those,  "  to  whom  the  word  of  God 
expression  which  they  found  was  under-  came ;"  implying  however  at  the  same  time 
stood, — either  by  friends  or  foes, — as  im- 
plying a  claim  to  divine  worship,  what 
would  they  not  deserve,  if  they  did  not 
hasten  to  disclaim  such  a  meaning  ? 


And  much  more  would  this  be  requisite 
in  the  case  of  a  person  who  foresaw  (as 
Jesus  must  have  done)  that  his  followers 
would  regard  Him  as  divine,^ — would  wor- 
lahip  Him — if  He  did  not  expressly  warn 


See  Deut.  xiii. 


j-  I  have  treated  more  fully  on  this  point,  in  an 
Essay  entitled  "  Thoughts  on  the  Sabbath." 

$  Our  version,  it  is  important  to  observe,  does 
not  give  the  full  force  of  the  passage  as  it  stands 
in  the  Original.  It  should  be  rendered,  "that  God 
was  his  own  proper  (or  peculiar')  Father."  (rrxT^x 
itfccv.)  This  it  seems  was  the  sense  in  which  (ac- 
cording to  the  Evangelist)  He  was  understood  by 
his  hearers  to  call  God  his  Father,  and  Himself 
"  the  Son  of  God." — See  Wilson  on  the  New 
Testament,  referred  to  in  the  Preface. 


CHRIST'S  CLAIM  OF  SONSHIP. 


13 


a  distinction  between  Himself  and  those 
persons,  and  his  own  superiority  to  them  : 
"Say  ye  of  Him"  (He  doth  not  say  "to 
whom  the  word  of  God  came" — but) 
"  whom  the  Father  hath  anointed  and 
sent  into  the  world,  thou  blasphemest,  be- 
cause I  said  I  am  the  Son  of  God  ?" 
This  however  did  not  necessarily  imply 
any  thing  more  than  superiority,  and  di- 
vine mission;  and  accordingly  vie  find  the 
Jews  enduring  it;  but  when  He  goes  on 
to  say  "  that  ye  may  know  and  believe 
that  the  Father  is  in  me  and  I  in  him," 
we  find  them  immediately  seeking  again  to 
Jay  hands  on  him;  and  He  withdraws  from 
them. 

But  the  most  important  record  by  far 
in  respect  of  the  point  now  before  us  is 
that  which  I  originally  proposed  to  no- 
tice,— the  account  of  our  Lord's  trial  and 
condemnation  before  the  Jewish  council. 
In  order  to  have  a  clear  view  of  this  por- 
tion of  the  history,  it  is  necessary  to  keep 
in  mind,  that  when  He  was  tried  before 
the  Roman  Governor,  it  was  (as  I  ob- 
served in  the  beginning)  not  for  the  same 
crime  he  was  charged  with  before  the 
Council  of  the  Jews ;  but  for  seditious 
and  treasonable  designs  against  the  Roman 
Emperor  :  "  We  found  this  fellow  per- 
verting the  nation  and  forbidding  to  give 
tribute  to  Caesar,  saying  that  He  Himself 
is  Christ  a  King."  "  Whosoever  maketh 
himself  a  King,  speaketh  against  Caesar." 
Now  I  need  hardly  remark  that  this  was 
no  crime  under  the  Law  of  Moses ;  and 
would  in  fact  have  been  a  merit  in  the 
sight  of  most  of  the  Jews.  But  what  He 
was  charged  with  before  them,  was  blas- 
phemy, according  to  the  Law  of  Moses  ;* 
and  of  this  they  pronounced  Him  guilty, 
and  sentenced  Him  to  death  ;  but  not  hav- 
ing power  to  inflict  capital  punishment, 
they  prevailed  on  Pilate,  who  had  acquit- 
ted Him  of  the  charge  of  treason,  to  in- 
flict their  sentence:  "  We  have  a  law,  and 
by  our  law  He  ought  to  die,  because  He 
made  Himself  the  Son  of  God." 

In  order  to  understand  clearly  the 
trial  and  condemnation  of  our  Lord 
before  the  Jewish  council  (which  is  in 
many  respects  a  most  important  part  of 
Sacred  history)  we  should  study,  as  I  have 
said,  the  accounts  given  of  it  by  all  four 
of  the  Evangelists.  Each  relates  such 
circumstances  as  most  struck  his  own 
mind;  where  one  is  abridged,  another  is 
more  diffuse ;  each  omits  some  things  that 
are  noticed  by  another ;  but  no  one  can 

*  See  Deut.  xiii.  7. 


be  supposed  to  have  recorded  any  thing 
that  did  not  occur.  All  the  four,  there- 
fore, should  be  compared  together,  in  or- 
der to  obtain  a  clear  view  of  the  transac- 
tion. 

It  seems  to  have  been  divinely  appointed 
that  Jesus  should  be  convicted  on  no  tes- 
timony but  his  own;  perhaps  in  order  to 
fulfil  the  more  emphatically  his  declaration 
"  No  man  taketh  away  my  life,  but  I  lay 
it  down  of  myself."  For  the  witnesses 
brought  forward  to  misrepresent  and  dis- 
tort his  saying  "Destroy  this  temple," 
and  "  J  will  destroy,"  could  not  make  their 
evidence  agree. 

The  High  Priest  then  endeavoured,  by 
examining  Jesus  Himself,  to  draw  from 
Him  an  acknowledgment  of  his  supposed 
guilt,  He  and  the  others  appear  to  have 
asked  Him  two  questions ;  which  in  the 
more  abridged  narrative  of  Matthew  and 
Mark  are  compressed  into  one  sentence ; 
but  which  Luke  has  given  distinctly  as 
two.  After  having  asked  Him  "  Art  thon 
the  Christ  ?n  they  proceed  to  ask  further 
"  Art  thou  then  the  Son  of  God  ?»*  and  as 
soon  as  He  had  answered  this  last  ques- 
tion in  the  affirmative  (according  to  the 
Hebrew  idiom  "  Ye  say,"  "  Thou  hast 
said")  immediately  "  the  High  Priest  rent 
his  clothes,"  saying,  "  He  hath  spoken 
blasphemy :  ye  have  heard  the  blasphe- 
my ;  what  need  we  any  further  witnesses  ? 
for  we  ourselves  have  heard  of  his  own 
mouth." 

§  6.  Some  readers,  I  believe,  from  not 
carefully  studying  and  comparing  together 
the  accounts  of  the  different  Evangelists, 
are  apt  to  take  for  granted  that  the  crime 
for  which  our  Lord  was  condemned  was 
that  of  falsely  pretending  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah or  Christ.  But  whatever  the  Jews 
may  have  thought  of  that  crime,  they  cer- 
tainly could  not  have  found  it  mentioned, 
and  death  denounced  against  it,  in  the  Law 
of  Moses.  It  could,  at  any  rate,  have 
been  no  crime,  unless  proved  to  be  a.  false 
pretension ;  which  was  not  even  at- 
tempted. Nor  could  they  have  brought 
that  offence  (even  if  proved)  under  the 
head  of  blasphemy;  unless  they  had  been 
accustomed  to  expect  the  Messiah  as  a  di- 
vine person.  Then,  indeed,  the  claim  of 
being  the  Messiah,  and  the  claim  of  divine 
honour,  would  have  amounted  to  the 
same  thing.  But  so  far  were  they  from 
having  this  expectation  that  (not  to  multi- 
ply proofs)  they  were  completely  at  a  loss 
to  answer  our  Lord's  question,  how  Da- 

*  See  John  xx.  31. 
2 


14 


CHRIST'S  WITNESS  OF  HIMSELF. 


vid,  if  the  Christ  were  to  be  David's  son, 
could  speak  of  him  as  a  divine  Being  un- 
der the  title  of  LORD.  "  If  David  then 
called  Him  Lord,  how  is  He  his  son,"  is 
a  question  which  they  would  have  an- 
swered without  a  moment's  hesitation,  if 
they  had  expected  that  the  Christ  should 
be,  though  the  Son  of  David  after  the  flesh 
and  as  a  human  Being,  yet,  the  Son  of 
God  in  such  a  sense  as  to  make  him  a 
Divine  Being  also. 

Whatever  good  reasons  then  they  might 
have  found  in  prophecy  for  such  expecta- 
tion, it  seems  plain  that  they  had  it  not. 

And  the  same  I  believe  is  the  case,  ge- 
nerally speaking,  with  the  Jews  of  the  pre- 
sent day.*  A  learned  modern  Jew,  who 
has  expressly  written  that  Jesus  "  falsely 
demanded  faith  in  Himself  as  the  true  God 
of  Israel,"  adds  that  u  if  a  prophet,  or 
even  the  Messiah  Himself,  had  offered 
proof  of  his  divine  mission  by  miracles, 
but  claimed  divinity,  he  ought  to  be 
stoned  to  death  ;"  conformably  i.  e.  to  the 
command  in  Deut.  xiii.  And  the  only 
Jew  with  whom  I  ever  conversed  on  the 
subject  appeared  to  hold  the  same  doc- 
trine ;  though  he  was  at  a  loss  when  I 
asked  him  to  reconcile  it  with  the  appli- 
cation of  the  title  of  Emmanuel. 

The  Jewish  Council  then  could  not,  it 
appears,  capitally  convict  our  Lord,  merely 
for  professing  to  be  the  Christ,  even 
though  falsely  :  and  accordingly  we  may 
observe  that  they  did  not  even  seek  for  any 
proof  that  his  pretension  was  false.  But 
as  soon  as  He  acknowledged  Himself  to 
be  the  "  Son  of  the  living  God,"  they  im- 
mediately pronounced  him  "  guilty  of 
death"  for  blasphemy;  i.  e.  as  seeking  to 
lead  the  people  (Deut.  xiii.)  to  pay  divine 
honour  to  another  besides  the  true  God. 
They  convict  him  on  his  own  testi- 
mony (having  "heard  of  his  own  mouth") 
of  the  crime  which  they  afterwards  de- 
scribe to  Pilate.  "  We  have  a  law,  and 
by  our  law  he  ought  to  die,  because  he 
made  himself  the  Son  of  God." 

§  7.  No  candid  reader  then  can  doubt, 
I  think,  that  the  Jews  understood  him  to 
claim  by  that  title  a  divine  character.  And 
He  Himself  must  have  known  that  they  so 
understood  him.  As  little  can  it  be  doubted 
therefore  that  they  must  have  rightly 
understood  him.  For  if  he — condemned 
as  he  was  on  the  evidence  of  his  own 
words — had  known  that  those  words  were 
understood  differently  from  his  real  mean- 

*  See  Wilson  on  the  JNew  Testament,  above  re- 
ferred to. 


ing,  and  yet  had  not  corrected  the  mis- 
take, he  would  have  been  himself  bearing 
false  witness  against  Himself;  since  no 
one  can  suppose  it  makes  any  difference 
in  point  of  veracity,  whether  a  man  says 
that  which  is  untrue  in  every  sense,  or 
that  which,  though  in  a  certain  sense  true, 
yet  is  false  in  the  sense  in  which  he 
knows  it  to  be  understood.  It  is  mere 
waste  of  labour  and  learning  and  ingenu- 
ity to  inquire  what  meaning  such  and  such 
an  expression  is  capable  of  bearing,  in  a 
case  where  we  know,  as  we  do  here,  what 
was  the  sense  which  was  actually  con- 
veyed by  it,  to  the  hearers,  and  which  the 
speaker  must  have  been  aware  it  did  con- 
vey to  them. 

Jesus  did  therefore  acknowledge  the 
fact  alleged  against  Him;  viz.:  that  of 
claiming  to  be  the  Son  of  God  in  such  a 
sense  as  to  incur  the  penalty  (supposing 
that  claim  unwarranted)  of  death  for  blas- 
pheming, according  to  the  law  respecting 
those  who  should  entice  Israel  to  worship 
any  other  than  the  one  true  God.  The 
whole  question  therefore  of  his  being 
rightly  or  wrongfully  condemned,  turns  on 
the  justness  of  that  claim : — on  his  actu- 
ally having,  or  not  having,  that  divine  cha- 
racter which  the  Jews  understood  Him  to 
assume.  For  if  He  were  not  such,  and 
and  yet  called  Himself  the  Son  of  God, 
knowing  in  what  sense  they  understood 
the  title,  I  really  am  at  a  loss  to  see  on. 
what  ground  we  can  find  fault  with  the 
sentence  they  pronounced. 

It  does  appear  to  me  therefore — I  say 
this  without  presuming  to  judge  those  who 
think  differently,  but  to  me  it  appears — 
that  the  whole  question  of  Christ's  divine 
mission,  and  consequently  of  the  truth  of 
Christianity,  turns  on  the  claim  which  He 
so  plainly  appears  to  have  made  to  divine 
honour  for  Himself. 

I  am  not  one  of  those  indeed  who  pro- 
fess to  understand  and  explain  why  it  was 
necessary  for  man's  salvation  that  God 
should  have  visited  his  People  precisely 
in  the  way  He  did.  On  such  points,  as  I 
dare  not  believe  less,  so  I  pretend  not  to 
understand  more,  than  He  has  expressly 
revealed.  If  I  had  been  taught  in  Scrip- 
ture that  God  had  thought  fit  to  save  the 
world,  through  the  agency  of  some  Angel, 
or  some  great  Prophet,  not  possessing  in 
himself  a  divine  character,  I  could  not 
have  presumed  to  maintain  the  impossi- 
bility of  that.  But  this  does  strike  me  as 
utterly  impossible;  that  a  heaven-sent 
messenger — the  Saviour  of  the  world, — 
should  be  a  person  who  claimed  a  divine 


HIS  DECLARATIONS  BEFORE  PILATE. 


15 


character  that  did  not  belong  to  Him ;  and 
who  thus  gave  rise  to,  and  permitted,  and 
encouraged,  a  system  of  idolatry.  This 
is  an  idea  so  revolting  to  all  my  notions 
of  divine  purity,  and  indeed  of  common 
morality,  that  I  could  never  bring  myself 
to  receive  as  a  divine  revelation  any  reli- 
gious system  that  contained  it. 

All  the  difficulties  on  the  opposite  side 
— and  I  do  not  deny  that  every  religious 
persuasion  has  its  difficulties — are  as  no- 
thing in  comparison  of  the  difficulty  of  be- 
lieving that  Jesus  (supposing  Him  neither 
an  impostor  nor  a  madman)  could  have 
made  the  declaration  he  did  make  at  his 
trial,  if  He  were  conscious  of  having  no 
just  claim  to  divine  honour. 

§  8.  And  the  conclusion  to  which  we 
are  thus  led,  arises  (it  should  be  observed) 
out  of  the  mere  consideration  of  the  title 
"Son  of  God,"  or  "only-begotten  Son  of 
God,"  as  applied  to  Jesus  Christ;  without 
taking  into  account  any  of  the  confirma- 
tions of  the  same  conclusion  (and  there 
are  very  many)  which  may  be  drawn  from 
other  parts  of  the  Sacred  Writings,  both  of 
the  Evangelists  and  Apostles — from  many 
things  that  were  said,  and  that  were  done, 
both  by  our  Lord  and  by  his  Apostles. 

There  is  indeed  no  one  of  these  their 
recorded  actions  and  expressions  that  may 
not  be  explained  away  by  an  ingenious 
critic,  who  should  set  himself  to  do  so, 
and  who  should  proceed  like  a  legal  advo- 
cate, examining  every  possible  sense  in 
which  some  law  or  precedent,  that  makes 
against  his  client,  may  be  interpreted.  But 
again,  there  is  hardly  one  of  these  passages 
which  can  be  thus  explained  away  with- 
out violating  the  maxim  above  laid  down ; 
viz.,  that  we  should  consider,  not  any  in- 
terpretation whatever  that  such  and  such 
words  can  bear,  but — what  notion  they 
conveyed,  and  must  have  been  known  to 
convey,  to  the  hearers,  at  the  time.*  For 
if  this  were  a  mistaken  notion, — an  untrue 
sense, — it  follows  inevitably  that  Christ 
and  his  Apostles  must  have  been  teachers 
of  falsehood,  even  though  their  words 
should  be  capable  of  a  different  and  true 
signification. 

Unless,  therefore,  we  conceive  them  ca- 
pable of  knowingly  promoting  idolatry, — 
unless  we  can  consider  Jesus  Himself  as 
either  an  insane  fanatic,  or  a  deliberate  im- 
postor,— we  must  assign  to  him,  the  "Au- 
thor and  Finisher  of  our  Faith,"  the  "only- 
begotten  Son  of  God,"  who  is  "one  with 
the  Father,"  that  divine  character  which 

*  See  Sermon  on  the  "  Name  Emmanuel." 


I  He  and  his  Apostles  so  distinctly  claimed 
for  Him ;  and  acknowledge  that  God  truly 
"  was  in  Christ,  reconciling  the  World  un- 
to Himself." 

§  9.  Not  less  important,  I  conceive,  are 
the  lessons  to  be  drawn  from  the  second 
trial, — that  before  Pilate, — to  which  our 
Lord  was  subjected ;  provided  this  portion 
also  of  the  sacred  narrative  be  studied  on 
the  principle  already  laid  down;  that  of 
interpreting  his  declarations  with  reference 
to  the  meaning  they  were  meant  to  convey 
at  the  time,  and  to  the  very  persons  He 
'  was  addressing. 

The  Jewish  Council  having  found  Jesus 
guilty  of  a  capital  crime,  and  being  not 
permitted,*  under  the  Roman  laws,  to  in- 
flict capital  punishment,  (for  the  stoning  of 
Stephen  appears  to  have  been  an  irregular 
and  tumultuous  outbreak  of  popular  fury,) 
immediately  bring  him  before  Pilate  on  a 
new  and  perfectly  different  charge.  "  The 
whole  multitude  of  them  arose  and  led 
Him  unto  Pilate :  and  they  began  to  ac- 
cuse Him,  saying,  We  found  this  fellow 
perverting  the  nation,  and  forbidding  to 
give  tribute  to  Caesar,  saying  that  He  Him- 
self is  Christ,  a  King."  For  the  crime  of 
which  He  had  been  convicted  before  them, 
that  of  blasphemy,  in  seeking  to  draw  aside 
the  Jews  to  the  worship  of  another  besides 
the  LORD  Jehovah,  though  a  capital  crime 
under  the  Mosaic  law,  was  none  at  all  in 
the  court  of  the  Roman  Governor;  and 
again,  the  crime  alleged  in  this  latter  court, 
treason  against  the  Roman  emperor,  was 
no  crime  at  all  under  the  law  of  Moses. 

Now,  in  studying  the  circumstances  of 
this  second  trial,  we  ought,  as  has  been 
above  observed,  to  proceed  by  the  same 
rule  of  interpretation  as  in  respect  of  the 
former  trial ;  viz.,  to  understand  our 
Lord's  expressions,  not  in  any  sense 
whatever  they  can  be  brought  to  bear, 
nor,  necessarily,  in  the  sense  which  to 
us  may  seem  the  most  suitable,  but  in 
the  sense,  as  far  as  we  can  ascertain  it, 
in  which  He  must  have  known  that  He 
was  understood  at  the  time. 

When  then  He  was  charged  before 
Pilate  with  "  speaking  against  Caesar" 
and  "  making  Himself  a  King,"  how 
does  He  defend  Himself?  As  on  a 
former  occasion,  when  his  adversaries 
had  tried  to  make  him  commit  the  offence 
with  which  they  now  charged  Him,  of 
interfering  with  the  secular  government 
of  Caesar,  He,  so  far  from  "  forbidding  to 
give  tribute,"  drew  the  line  between 


16 


DECLARATIONS  BEFORE  PILATE. 


secular  and  spiritual  government,  saying, 
"Render  unto  Caesar  the  things  which 
be  Caesar's,  and  unto  God  the  things 
which  be  God's,"  so,  now,  before  Pilate, 
He  asserts  his  claim  to  be  a  King,  but 
declares  that  "  his  kingdom  is  not  of  this 
world,"  and  that,  accordingly,  his  ser- 
vants were  not  allowed  to  fight  for  Him  ; 
and  He  further  describes  his  kingly  office 
to  consist  in  "  bearing  witness  of  the 
truth."  "  Every  one  that  is  of  the  truth," 
said  He,  "heareth  (i.  e.  obeyeth)  my 
voice."* 

The  result  was  that  Pilate  acquitted 
Him  ;  declaring  publicly  that  he  u  found 
no  fault  at  all  in  Him."  It  is  plain, 
therefore,  that  he  must  have  believed — 
or  at  least  professed  to  believe — both  that 
the  declarations  of  Jesus  were  true,  and 
that  they  amounted  to  a  total  disavowal 
of  all  interference  with  the  secular 
government,  by  Himself,  or  his  fol- 
lowers, as  such. 

Much  ingenuity  has  been  expended, — 
I  must  needs  say,  has  been  wasted, — in 
drawing  out  from  our  Lord's  expressions 
before  Pilate,  every  sense  that  his  words 
can  be  found  capable  of  bearing ;  while 
a  man  of  little  or  no  ingenuity,  but  of 
plain  good  sense  and  sincerity  of  pur- 
pose, seeking  in  simplicity  to  learn  what 
Jesus  really  did  mean,  can  hardly,  I 
should  think,  fail  of  that  meaning,  if  he 
does  but  keep  in  mind  the  occasion  on 
which  He  was  speaking,  and  the  sense  in 
which  He  must  have  known  that  his  lan- 
guage would  be  understood.  The  occa- 
sion on  which  He  spoke  was  when  on 
his  trial  before  a  Roman  governor,  for 

*  He  came  to  establish  a  Kingdom  of  Truth; 
that  is,  not  a  kingdom  whose  subjects  should  em- 
brace on  compulsion  what  is  in  itself  true,  and 
consequently  should  be  adherents  of  truth  by  acci- 
dent ;  but  a  kingdom  whose  subjects  should  have 
been  admitted  as  such  in  consequence  of  their 
being  "  of  the  truth"  that  is,  men  honestly  dis- 
posed to  embrace,  and  "  obey  the  truth,"  whatever 
it  might  be,  that  God  should  reveal :  agreeably  to 
what  our  Lord  has  elsewhere  declared,  that "  if  any 
man  will  do  (&t\u,  is  willing  to  do)  the  will  of  my 
Father,  he  shall  know  the  doctrine,  &c." 

Those  who  explain  Christ's  declaration  of  his 
having  "  come  into  the  world  to  bear  witness  of 
the  truth,"  in  some  sense  in  itself  intelligible,  but 
quite  unconnected  with  the  inquiry  He  was 
answering,  as  to  his  being  "  a  King,"  seem  to 
forget  that  what  he  said  must  have  had  not  only 
some  meaning,  but  some  meaning  pertinent  to 
the  occasion  ;  and  this  they  seem  as  much  at  a 
loss  for  as  Pilate  himself;  who  exclaimed,  "What 
is  truth  1"  not  from  being  ignorant  of  the  meaning 
of  the  word,  but  from  perceiving  no  connexion 
between  "  truth"  and  the  inquiry  respecting  the 
claim  to  regal  office. — See  Essay  L,  2d  series. 


treason, — for  a  design  to  subvert,  or  in 
some  way  interfere  with,  the  established 
government.  To  this  charge,  it  is  plain 
Pilate  understood  Him  to  plead  not 
guilty;  and  gave  credit  to  his  plea. 
Pilate,  therefore,  must  have  taken  the 
declaration  that  Christ's  u  kingdom  is  not 
of  this  world,"  as  amounting  to  a  renun- 
ciation of  all  secular  coercion, — all  for- 
cible measures  in  behalf  of  his  religion. 
And  we  cannot  without  imputing  to  our 
blessed  Lord  a  fraudulent  evasion,  sup- 
pose Him  to  have  really  meant  any  thing 
different  from  the  sense  which  he  knew 
his  words  conveyed.  Such  is  the  conclu- 
sion which  I  cannot  but  think  any  man 
must  come  to  who  is  not  seeking,  as  in 
the  interpretation  of  an  Act  of  Parliament, 
for  any  sense  most  to  his  own  purpose, 
that  the  words  can  be  made  to  bear,  how- 
ever remote  that  may  be  from  the  known 
design  of  the  Legislator;  but  who,  with 
reverential  love,  is  seeking  with  simpli- 
city and  in  earnest  to  learn  what  is  the 
description  that  Christ  gave  of  his  king- 
dom. 

But  the  ingenuity  which  has  been  (as 
I  said  before)  wasted  in  trying  to  explain 
our  Lord's  words  in  some  other  way,  has 
been  called  forth  by  a  desire  to  escape 
some  of  the  consequences  which  follow 
from  taking  them  in  their  simple  and 
obvious  sense.  Those  who  are  seeking 
not  really  to  learn  the  true  sense  of  our 
Lord's  declarations,  but  to  reconcile  them 
with  the  conduct  of  some  Christian 
States,  and  to  justify  the  employment  of 
secular  force  in  behalf  of  Religion,  are 
driven  to  some  ingenious  special-pleading 
on  the  words  employed,  in  order  to  draw 
from  them  such  a  sense  as  may  suit  their 
own  purpose. 

And  all  this  ingenuity  is  (as  I  said  be- 
fore) wasted  ;  because  even  supposing  it 
proved  that  the  words  which  Jesus  ut- 
tered are,  in  themselves,  capable  of  bearing 
some  other  meaning,  still,  nothing  is 
gained  (supposing  our  object  is,  not  to 
evade,  but  to  understand  Scripture)  if  that 
meaning  be  one  which  could  not  have 
been  so  understood  at  the  time,  or  which 
would  have  been  one  utterly  foreign  to 
the  occasion  and  irrelevant  to  the  question 
that  was  to  be  tried. 

§  10.  For  instance,  I  have  heard  it  said 
that  ourLord's  description  of  his  kingdom 
as  "not  of  this  world"  meant  merely 
that  He  claimed  to  possess  a  spiritual  do- 
minion (as  undoubtedly  He  did)  over  the 
souls  of  men,  and  to  be  the  distributor  of 
the  rewards  and  judgments  of  the  other 


CHRIST'S  KINGDOM  NOT  OF  THIS  WORLD. 


IT 


world.  Apd  such  certainly  is  his  claim  : 
but  the  essential  point,  with  a  view  to  the 
trial  then  going  on,  was,  that  this  was  his 
only  claim.  He  did  not  merely  claim  spi- 
ritual dominion,  but  he  also  renounced 
temporal.  He  declared  not  merely  that 
his  kingdom  is  of  the  next  world  ;  but  that 
it  is  not  of  this  world. 

In  fact,  the  mere  assertion  of  his  spiritual 
dominion,  and  one  extending  beyond  the 
grave,  would  have  been,  at  that  time,  and 
in  reference  to  the  charge  brought  against 
Him,  wholly  irrelevant,  and  foreign  to  the 
question.  He  was  charged  with  fc'  speak- 
ing against  Caesar," — with  making  Himself 
King  in  opposition  to  the  Roman  Em- 
peror. The  Jews  expected  (as  Pilate 


false  religion.  In  short,  at  the  time  when 
Christ  stood  before  Pilate,  his  kingdom 
was  not  of  this  world,  "because"  (I  am 
citing  the  words  of  one  of  the  most  ce- 
lebrated ancient  divines)  "  that  prophecy 
was  not  yet  fulfilled, c  Be  wise  now,  there- 
fore, O  ye  kings,  be  learned,  ye  that  are 
judges  of  the  earth ;  serve  the  Lord  with 
fear ;' "  the  rulers  of  the  earth,  he  adds, 
were  at  that  time  opposed  to  the  Gospel ; 
the  Apostles  and  other  early  disciples 
were  unable  to  compel  men  to  conform  to 
the  true  faith ;  and  therefore  it  was  that 
the  secular  arm  was  not  yet  called  to  aid 
against  the  Church's  enemies. 

Now,  without  entering  into  the  ques- 
tion whether  our  Lord's  words  could,  in 


could  hardly  have  been  ignorant)  a  Christ  |  themselves,  bear  such  a  meaning,  let  us 
who  should  be  a  heaven-sent  "King  of  confine  ourselves  to  the  principle  we  set 
the  Jews,"  possessing  both  temporal  and  \  out  with,  and  merely  consider  whether  He 
spiritual  authority;  a  kingdom,  both  of  could  possibly  have  meant  to  be  so  under- 


this  world  and  of  the  next :  for  the  great 
mass  of  the  nation  believed  in  a  future 
state.  Any  man  claiming  to  be  such  a 
king  of  the  Jews,  would  evidently  be  an 
opponent  of  the  Roman  government.  His 


stood.  For  this,  we  should  observe,  would 
clearly  have  been  to  plead  guilty  to  the 
charge.  It  mattered  nothing  to  the  Roman 
Government  whether  it  were  Jesus  Him- 
self, or  his  followers  that  should  revolt 


spiritual  pretensions,  the  Romans  did  not  ]  against  Caesar's  power,  and  set  up  a  rival 
concern  themselves  about.  It  was  the  !  kingdom.  And  therefore,  when  our  Lord 
assumption  of  temporal  power  that  threat-  j  himself,  and  afterwards  Paul  and  the  other 
ened  danger  to  the  Empire  ;  and  it  was  of  j  Apostles,  defended  themselves  against  the 
this  assumption  that  Jesus  was  accused:  \  imputation  of  seditious  designs,  it  is  im- 
did  He  not  distinctly  deny  it  ?  There  was  j  possible  they  could  have  meant  to  be 


no  question  about  the  rewards  and  pu- 
nishments of  another  world.  The  question 
was,  whether  He  did  or  did  not  design  to 
claim,  for  Himself,  or  his  followers  as 
such,  any  kind  of  secular  empire  :*  could 
any  words  have  disclaimed  it  more  strongly 
than  those  He  used  ?  And  can  any  one  in 
his  senses  seriously  believe  that  when 
Jesus  said,  "  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this 
world,"  He  meant  to  be  understood  as 
saying  that  his  kingdom  was  not  only  of 
this  world,  but  of  the  next  world  too. 

No, — I  have  heard    it  said  by  some 
other  expounders, — He  did  mean  to  dis- 


understood  as  merely  disclaiming  such 
designs  for  the  present,  and  renouncing 
temporal  dominion  only  for  themselves, 
personally,  but  reserving  for  their  fol- 
lowers, when  these  should  have  become 
strong  enough,  the  right  to  establish  by 
force  a  Christian  political  ascendency,  and 
to  put  down  all  other  religions.  To  have 
defended  themselves  against  their  accusers 
by  acknowledging  the  very  designs  which 
those  accusers  imputed  to  them,  would 
have  been  downright  insanity. 

But  such  absurdities  as  would,  in  any 
other  subject,  revolt  every  man  of  com- 


claim  all  temporal  dominion  for  Himself  mon  sense,  are  sometimes  tolerated  in 
personally  and  at  that  time ;  but  that, ;  the  interpretations  of  Scripture,  that  are 
hereafter,  when  u  the  kingdoms  of  this  j  framed  in  order  to  serve  a  purpose.  For 

of 


world  should  become  kingdoms  of  the 
Lord,"  and  when  "  kings  should  become 
nursing  fathers"  of  his  Church,  when 


instance,   suppose    some    emissaries 
the   Pretender   in   the   last   century,  or, 
in   later   times,  of    the   French   revolu- 


"  the  Church  should  be  in  its  complete  j  tionists,  or  of  the  Chartists,  or  any  set 


clevelopement  by  being  perfectly  identified 
with  the  State, — then,  all  those  Christians 
who  should  have  attained  power,  should 
exercise  that  power  in  enforcing  the  pro- 


of revolutionists  of  the  present  day,  to 
ro  about  the  country  proclaiming  and 
lisseminating  their  principles,  and  then 
to  be  arrested  and  brought  to  trial  for 


fession  of  his  Gospel,  and  in  putting  down   sedition  :    can   any   one   conceive    them 
idolatry,  infidelity,  heresy,  dissent,  and  all  j  defending  themselves  against  the  charge, 

by  pleading  that  they  did  not  intend  that 
they  themselves,  but  that  their  disciples, 

2* 


*  See  Appendix,  Note  (A.) 

c 


18 


CHRIST  COULD  HAVE  NO  HIDDEN  MEAKING. 


should  obtain  the  government  of  the 
country,  and  enforce  their  principles ; 
that  they  aimed  at  the  possession  and  the 
monopoly  of  civil  rights*  and  privileges, 
not  for  themselves,  but  for  their  succes- 
sors ;  that  they  did  not  mean  to  take  up 
arms  till  they  should  have  collected  a 
sufficient  number  of  followers ;  and  that 
they  taught  all  men  to  yield  obedience  to 
the  existing  government  till  they  should 
be  strong  enough  to  overthrow  it  ?  Who 
does  not  see  at  once  that  to  urge  such  a 
plea  would  convince  every  one  of  their 
being  madmen  ?  And  yet  this  is  what 
must  be  imputed  to  Jesus  and  his  disci- 
ples, by  any  one  who  can  suppose  that 
they  meant  to  be  understood  by  the  Roman 
magistrates  as  merely  disclaiming  all  in- 
terference with  civil  government,  till  they 
should  become  numerous  enough  to  en- 
force the  claim; — all  resort  to  secular 
coercion  in  religious  matters,  till  they 
should  have  strength  to  employ  it  effec- 
tually ; — all  political  monopoly,  till  they 
should  be  in  a  condition  to  maintain  it 
by  a  strong  hand. 

Jesus  then,  it  is  plain,  when  He  said 
"  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world," 
could  not  have  meant  to  be  understood  as 
implying  that  it  should  be  so  hereafter. 

One  of  the  modes  in  which  it  has  been 
attempted  to  explain  away  the  teaching 
of  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  is  by  re- 
presenting them  as  inculcating  only  the 
duty  of  Subjects  towards  Governors,  and 
not  meaning  that  the  same  principles 
should  be  applied  in  reference  to  the  duty 
of  Governors  towards  Subjects  :  so  that 
though  Christians  were  to  "  be  subject, 
for  conscience'  sake,"  even  to  idolatrous 
rulers  (as  long  as  nothing  at  variance 
with  Christian  duty  was  enjoined)  the 
right  was  reserved,  it  seems,  to  Christians, 
whenever  they  might  obtain  political 
power,  to  employ  this  in  forcibly  main- 
taining and  propagating  their  own  reli- 
gion,! ancl  securing  to  its  professors  a 
monopoly  of  civil  rights.  As  if  a  citizen, 
of  whatever  persuasion,  had  not  the  same 
claim  to  the  rights  of  a  citizen*  that  a 
ruler,  of  whatever  persuasion,  has  to  the 
rights  of  a  ruler!  As  if  the  Christian 
principles  implied  in  "  render  unto  Caesar 
the  things  that  are  Caesar's"  ..."  render 

*  See  Appendix,  Note  (A.) 

•j- 1  know  not  how  the  oppression  under  which 
the  Vaudois  are  now  suffering  (see  the  Pamphlet 
referred  to  in  the  Preface)  can  be  objected  to  by 
Protestants  who  hold  these  principles,  unless  they 
renounce  altogether  the  rule  of  doing  as  we  would 
be  done  by. 


unto  all  their  due"  were  rvot  equally 
applicable  to  the  duties  either  of  Subject 
or  of  Prince ! 

And  supposing  (what  is  inconceivable) 
that  any  such  groundless  and  fanciful 
distinction  had  been  in  the  mind  of  our 
Lord  and  his  Apostles,  and  moreover  that 
they  had  meant  the  Roman  magistrates 
so  to  understand  them,  and  also  that 
those  magistrates  had  given  them  credit 
for  sincerity,  still,  after  all,  nothing  is 
gained  by  these  suppositions  :  since  there 
could  be  no  security  against  a  Christianas 
obtaining  political  power,  or  against  a 
man's  embracing  Christianity  who  was 
already  in  power.  And  if  this  power 
was  to  be  exerted  in  propagating  the 
Religion  by  those  coercive  means  which 
a  civil  magistrate  is  enabled  to  employ, 
no  one  in  his  senses  can  doubt,  that  had 
Christ  and  his  Apostles  been  understood 
as  acknowledging  this,  they  would  have 
been  pleading  guilty  to  the  charges 
brought  against  them.* 

§  11.  But  had  He  then  some  hidden 
meaning,  which  He  did  not  intend  to  be 
understood  at  the  time  ?  Did  He  design 
to  convey  one  sense  to  the  Roman 
governor,  and  another  to  his  own  disci- 
ples ? — to  reserve  for  his  followers  in 
future  times,  that  power  to  enforce  the 
acknowledgment  of  his  gospel,  which  He 
pretended  to  disclaim. 

It  seems  almost  too  shocking  even  to 
ask  such  a  question :  and  yet  it  is  but 
too  true,  that  such,  in  substance,  (how- 
ever glossed  over  in  words)  must  be  the 
meaning  attributed  to  our  blessed  Lord 
by  those  who  would  reconcile  his  decla- 
rations before  Pilate  with  that  which  they 
represent  as  the  right  and  the  duty  of 
every  Christian  Governor.  "  The  magis- 
trate," they  say,  (I  am  giving  the  very 
words  that  have  been  employed,)  "  who 
restrains,  coerces,  and  punishes  any  one 
who  opposes  the  true  faith,  obeys  the 
command  of  God :"  and  they  contend 
that  a  Christian  Governor  is  not  only 
authorized,  but  bound,  to  secure  to  the 
professors  of  the  true  faith  a  monopoly  of 
political  power  and  civil  rights.  Now, 
to  reconcile  such  doctrines  with  the 
declarations  of  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  a 
meaning  must  be  attributed  to  those 
declarations  which  it  would  have  been 
madness  for  them  to  have  avowed  at  the 
time  ; — in  short,  a  hidden  meaning. 

It  is  recorded  of  an  ancient  king  of 
Egypt — one  of  the  Ptolemies — that  he 


*  See  Essays  on  the  Dangers,  &c.  pp.  210-13. 


SPIRITUAL  AND  SECULAR  SOCIETIES. 


19 


employed  a  celebrated  architect  to  build 
a  magnificent  Light  House,  for  the  be- 
nefit of  shipping,  and  ordered  an  in- 
scription in  honour  of  himself  to  be  en- 
graved on  it;  the  architect,  it  is  said, 
though  inwardly  coveting  the  honour  of 
such  a  record  for  himself,  was  obliged  to 
comply ;  but  made  the  inscription  on  a 
plaster  resembling  stone,  but  of  perisha- 
ble substance :  in  the  course  of  years 
this  crumbled  away  ;  and  the  next  gene- 
ration saw  another  inscription,  recording 
the  name,  not  of  the  King,  but  of  the 
architect,  which  had  been  secretly  en- 
graved on  the  durable  stone  below. 

Now,  just  such  a  device  as  this  is  at- 
tributed to  our  Lord  and  his  Apostles  by 
those  who  believe  them  to  have  designed 
that  secular  power  should  hereafter  be 
called  in  to  enforce  the  Christian  Faith, 
though  all  such  designs  were  apparently 
disavowed,  in  order  to  serve  a  present 
purpose.  According  to  such  interpreters, 
44 My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world1'  was 
only  an  inscription  on  the  perishable 
plaster;  the  design  of  "coercing  and 
punishing"  by  secular  power  all  oppo- 
nents of  the  true  faith  was,  it  seems,  the 
engraving  on  the  stone  beneath.  u  Ren- 
der unto  Ca3sar  the  things  that  be 
Caesar's'*  was  but  the  outward  part  of 
the  inscription ;  the  addition  was  an  inner 
hidden  engraving,  directing  that  Chris- 
tians, when  become  strong  enough,  should 
compel  both  Caesar  and  his  subjects, — all 
Rulers  and  all  citizens — either  to  ac- 
knowledge the  true  faith,  or  to  forfeit 
their  civil  rights.  It  was  the  outside  in- 
scription only  that  ran  thus,  "  Submit 
yourselves  to  every  ordinance  of  man  ; 
*  the  powers  that  be  are  ordained  of 
God :"  the  secret  characters  on  the  stone 
said,  "  Take  care  as  soon  as  possible  to 
make  every  ordinance  of  man  submit  to 
you,"  and  to  provide  that  none  but  those  • 
of  your  own  body  shall  be  in  authority ; 
and  that  they  shall  use  that  authority  in 
enforcing  the  profession  of  your  religion.* 

It  might  seem  incredible,  did   we  not 
know  it  to  be  the  fact,  that  persons  pro- 
fessing a  deep  reverence  for  Christ  and 
his  Apostles  as  heaven-sent  messengers,  | 
should  attribute  to  them  this  double-deal-  ! 
ing; — should  believe  them  to  have  secret-! 
ly  entertained  and  taught  the  very  views  j 
of  which  their  adversaries  accused  them, ! 

and   which    they    uniformly  disclaimed  : ! 

— — - — — — i 

*  Of  this  subject  I  have  treated  more  fully  in 
the  "Es  ay  on  Persecution,"  3d  Series;  and  in 
Appendix  E.  and  F.  to  "  Essays  on  the  Dan-  [ 
gers,"  &c.,  4th  Series. 


'  that  the  blessed  Jesus  Himself,  who  re- 
bukes hypocrisy  more  strongly  than  per- 
|  haps  any  other  sin,  should  be  regarded 
by  his  professed  followers  as  having  pre- 
tended to  disavow  that  which  was  his 
real  design,  and  which  He  imparted  to  his 
Apostles;  teaching  them  in  like  manner 
to  keep  the  secret  till  they  should  be 
strong  enough  to  assert  the  political  su- 
premacy of  the  Gospel,  and  to  extirpate, 
or  hold  in  subjection  as  vassals,  all  pro- 
fessors of  false  religions. 

All  this  I  say,  might  seem  hardly  credi- 
ble, did  not  daily  experience  show  us 
how  easily  (not  only  in  this  but  in  other 
cases  also)  even  intelligent  men  are  satis- 
fied with  the  slightest  pretences  of  argu- 
ment— with  the  most  extravagant  conclu- 
sions—  when  they  are  seeking  not  really 
for  instruction  as  to  what  they  ought  to 
do,  but  for  a  justification  of  what  they 
are  inclined  to  do.  Such  a  bias  of  incli- 
nation is  like  the  magnet  which  is  said  to 
have  been  once  secretly  placed  near  a 
ship7s  compass  by  a  traitor  who  purposed 
to  deliver  the  crew  into  the  enemy's  hands. 
All  their  diligence  and  skill  in  working 
the  ship,  and  steering  by  this  perverted 
compass,  served  only  to  further  them  on 
the  wrong  course. 

Without  presuming  to  pronounce  judg- 
ment on  the  general  moral  character  of 
others,  I  cannot  forbear  saying,  for  my- 
self, that  if  I  could  believe  Jesus  to  have 
been  guilty  of  such  subterfuges  as  I  have 
been  speaking  of,  1  not  only  could  not 
acknowledge  Him  as  sent  from  God,  but 
should  reject  Him  with  the  deepest  moral 
indignation. 

How  far  this  indignant  disgust  may 
have  been  excited  in  the  breasts  of  some 
who  have  taken  for  granted,  on  the  au- 
thority of  learned  and  zealous  divines, 
that  the  interpretation  I  have  been  repro- 
bating is  to  be  received,  and  who  may  in 
consequence  have  rejected  Christianity 
with  abhorrence,  it  is  for  those  who  main- 
tain such  an  interpretation  carefully  to 
consider. 

§  12.  It  is  in  many  respects  import- 
ant to  observe  and  to  keep  in  mind,  to 
how  great  an  extent  both  an  obliquity  of 
moral  judgment,  and  a  deficiency  in  the 
reasoning-powers,  will  often  affect,  on 
some  one  or  two  particular  points,  a  man 
who  may  be,  on  the  whole,  and  in  other 
points,  where  his  particular  prejudices 
have  not  gained  dominion,  a  person  both 
morally  and  intellectually  above  the 
average.  In  the  present  case,  for  instance, 
one  may  find  men  of  much  intelligence 


20 


misled  by  a  fallacy  which  in  the  ordinary 
concerns  of  life  every  person  of  common 
sense  would  see  through  at  once. 

Was  it  designed,  they  say,  that  Chris- 
tians should  never  take  any  part  in  civil 
affairs ; — should  never  be  magistrates  or 
legislators,  and  thus  partake  of  political 
power?  And  if  this  is  permitted,  must 
they  not,  as  civil  magistrates,  acton  Chris- 
tian principles?  No  doubt;  but  they 
would  cease  to  act  on  Christian  princi- 
ples if  they  should  employ  the  coercive 


SPIRITUAL  AND  SECULAR  SOCIETIES. 


highest  court  at  Athens ;  and  expressed 
his  ardent  wish  to  convert  Agrippa,  and 
also  all  "  who  heard  him  that  day."  Yet 
neither  Peter  nor  Paul  ever  thought  of 
desiring  the  Centurion — the  Governor — 
the  Judge  and  the  King,  to  lay  down  their 
offices,  and  renounce  all  concern  with 
secular  business  ;  nor  did  they  ever  dream 
that  their  holding  such  offices  when 
Christians,  would  make  Christ's  a  "  king- 
dom of  this  world."  They  wished,  and 
they  openly  endeavoured,  to  make  "  the 


power  of  civil  magistrates  in  the  cause  of\  kingdoms  of  this  world  the  kingdoms  of 


Christianity ;  if  they  should  not  only  take 
a  part  in  civil  affairs,  but  claim  as  Chris- 
tians, or  as  members  of  a  particular  Church, 
a  monopoly  of  civil  rights.  It  is  this,  and 
this  only,  that  tends  to  make  Christ's 
kingdom  "  a  kingdom  of  this  world." 

Now  this  is  a  distinction  which  in  all 
other  cases  is  readily  perceived  by  every 
man  of  common  sense.  For  instance, 
there  are  many  well-known  Societies  in 
this  and  in  most  other  countries,  which 
no  one  would  call  in  any  degree  political 
Societies  ;  such  as  Academies  for  the  cul- 
tivation of  mathematical  and  other  sci- 
ences,— Agricultural  Societies, — Antiqua- 
rian Societies,  and  the  like ;  now  it  would 
be  reckoned  silly  even  to  ask  respecting 


the  Lord,"*  and  "  kings  the  nursing-fa- 
thers of  the  Church,"  in  the  sense  of 
making  the  indivduals  of  every  nation 
members  of  Christ; — of  inducing  kings 
and  magistrates,  and  subjects  too,  to  ab- 
stain from  persecuting  Christians,  and  to 
become  Christians,  and  to  act  so  as  to  in- 
duce others  to  follow  their  example. 

It  has  been  said  that  this  passage  re- 
specting the  "  kingdoms  of  this  world  be- 
coming the  kingdoms  of  the  Lord,"  de- 
scribes the  Christian  Church  in  its  per- 
fection, and  "  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this 
world,"  describes  it  in  its  infancy.  But 
what  Jesus  and  his  Apostles  taught  on 
this  point,  belongs,  and  ever  did,  and  ever 
will  belong,  to  the  Christian  Church  in 


any  one  of  these  Secieties,  whether  the  |  every  stage  alike ;  namely,  that  the  Chris- 
members  of  it  were  excluded  from  taking  I  tian  is  to  act,  in  all  the  relations  in  life, 
any  part  in  civil  affairs,  and  whether  a  in  whatever  circumstances  he  is  placed, 
magistrate  or  a  legislator  could  be  admit-  on  Christian  principles.  And  what  were 


ted  as  a  member  of  it.  Every  one  would 
see  the  absurdity  of  even  entertaining  any 
doubt  on  this  point:  and  it  would  be 
reckoned  no  less  silly  to  inquire  whether 
the  admission  of  such  persons  as  mem- 
bers, constituted  that  Academy  a  political 


the  principles  they  inculcated  ?  "  Render 
unto  Caesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar's, 
and  unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's  :" 
"  Render  unto  all  their  due ;  tribute  to 
whom  tribute  is  due ;  custom,  to  whom 
custom;  fear,  to  whom  fear;  honour,  to 


Society.  It  would  at  once  be  answered  j  whom  honour  ;"  u  Submit  yourselves  to 
that  the  Society  itself,  and  the  members  every  ordinance  of  man,  for  the  Lord's 
of  it  as  such,  had  nothing  to  do  with  po-  j  sake:"  "Ye  must  needs  be  subject,  not 
litical,  but  only  with  scientific  matters ;  only  for  wrath,  but  also  for  conscience' 
and  that  though  individual  members  of  it  I  sake,"  &c.  Never  was  the  Christian  re- 
might  be  also  members  of  the  legislature,  j  quired  to  do  less  than  conform  to  such 
the  provinces  of  the  two  Societies,  as  So-  I  principles  ;  never  will  he  be  called  on  to 
cieties, — of  a  scientific  association,  and  a  do  more. 

political  community, — are  altogether  dis-       If  Sergius  Paulus  and  other  converted 

Roman  governors  had  consulted  Paul, 
whether  they  should  use  their  power  as 
Roman  governors  to  put  down  Paganism 
by  force,  or  if  Dionysius,  after  having  in- 
duced (suppose)  the  other  judges  of  the 
Areopagus  to  embrace  the  Gospel,  had 
proposed  to  the  Apostle  that  that  Court 
should  sit  in  judgment  on  religious  of- 


tinct. 

Now  this  is  just  the  non-interference 
in  political  affairs  which  Christ  and  his 
Apostles  professed,  and  taught,  and  car- 
ried into  practice,  in  respect  of  the  reli- 
gion of  the  Gospel.  As  the  Apostle  Pe- 
ter converted  to  the  Faith  Cornelius  the 
Centurion,  so  likewise  Paul,  who  avowed 
his  practice  of  "  witnessing  both  to  small 
and  great)" — converted  Sergius  Paulus 
the  Roman  Governor  at  Paphos,  and  Dio- 
nysius the  Areopagite,  a  judge  of  the 


*  Some  Millenarians  understand  this  prophecy 
as  referring  to  a  temporal  reign  of  Christ  on  earth. 
See  "Scripture  Revelations  of  a  Future  State." 
Lect.  on  Millennium. 


TOLERANCE  RESULTS  FROM  KNOWLEDGE  AND  FAITH. 


21 


fences,  and  inflict  penalties  on  all  persons 
opposing  or  rejecting  the  true  Faith,  or 
deprive  them  of  civil  rights, — if  the  Apos- 
tle Paul,  I  say,  had  been  thus  consulted, 
what  answer,  think  you,  he  would  have 
given  ?  What  answer  must  he  have  given, 
if  we  believe  him  sincere  in  his  profes- 
sions, and  if  we  believe  his  great  Master 
to  have  really  meant  exactly  what  He  de- 
clared ?  The  Apostle  would  surely  have 
explained  to  such  inquirers  that  Christ 
meant  the  reception  of  his  Gospel  to  rest 
on  sincere  inward  conviction,  not  on  con- 
strained outward  profession,  which  is  all 
that  legal  penalties  can  produce: — that 
their  office  as  governors  and  judges,  was 
to  take  cognizance  of  men's  overt  acts, 
and  to  punish  and  restrain  crimes  against 
the  civil  community;  but  that  their  duty 
as  Christians  was  to  regulate,  and  try  to 
persuade  others  to  regulate,  the  inward 
motives  and  dispositions  of  the  heart,  ac- 
cording to  Gospel  principles  ;  and  to  keep 
themselves  not  from  crimes  merely,  but 
from  sins  against  God  ;  and  to  "  exercise 
themselves  in  having  themselves  a  con- 
science void  of  offence,  before  God  and 
man,"  (Acts  xxiv.  16,)  not  in  seeking  to 
force  another  to  speak  or  act  against  his 
conscience.  He  would  not  have  forbid- 
den them  to  take  a  part  (as  it  is  most  fit 
that  the  laity  should)  in  the  government 
of  the  Church,  or  to  hold  any  ecclesias- 
tical or  spiritual  office  in  it ;  or  again,  to 
retain  their  civil  offices:  but  he  would 
have  deprecated  with  abhorrence  their 
blending  the  two  classes  of  offices  to- 
gether, and  attempting  to  employ  the 
power  of  coercion  which  essentially  be- 
longs to  the  civil  magistrate,  in  the  cause 
of  Christ's  religion.  He  would  have  told 
them  to  strive  to  convert  and  reclaim  their 
neighbours  from  superstitious  error,  (even 
as  he  had  converted  them]  by  instruction 
and  persuasion;  never  losing  sight  of 
their  great  Master's  rule,  of  doing  as  they 
would  be  don^  by ;  not  inflicting  there- 
fore on  the  unbeliever  the  persecution 
which  they  had  disapproved  when  direct- 
ed against  Christians  ;  but  leaving  to  every 
man  that  liberty  of  conscience  which  they 
desired  to  enjoy  themselves.  • 

Such  would  have  been  the  answer,  I 
think  we  cannot  doubt,  which  the 
Apostles  would  have  given  to  such  in- 
quirers; and  which,  if  Peter  and  Paul 
were  now  on  earth,  they  would  give  to 
any  like  questions  at  this  day.  For  such 
surely  must  be  the  decision  of  any  one 
who  is  convinced  that  Jesus  Himself  was 
perfectly  sincere  in  the  declaration  He 


made  at  his  trial,  and  that  He  "  left  us  an 
example,  that  we  should  follow  his  steps, 
who  did  no  sin,  neither  was  guile  found 
in  his  mouth." 

§  13.  Yet  if  the  Apostle  Paul,  with 
these  sentiments,  were  now  on  earth, 
would  there  not  be  some  danger  of  his 
being  accounted  a  latitudinarian — a  per- 
son nearly  indifferent  about  religious  dis- 
tinctions,— regarding  one  religion  nearly 
as  good  as  another ; — ready  to  profess 
any, — and  believing  little  or  nothing  of 
any  ?  For  such  is  the  character  often 
attributed  to  any  one  who  disapproves 
of  the  employment  of  secular  force  in 
behalf  of  the  true  Faith,  or  the  monopoly 
by  its  professors,  of  civil  rights. 

That  there  are  persons  indifferent 
about  all  religions,  is  true ;  and  it  is  true 
that  some  of  them  are,  from  humanity  of 
disposition,  averse  to  persecution  and 
coercion.  For  many  persons, — perhaps 
most, — are  tolerant  or  intolerant  accord- 
ing to  their  respective  tempers,  and  not 
according  to  their  principles.  But  as  far 
as  principles  are  concerned,  certainly  the 
latitudinarian  is  the  more  likely  to  be 
intolerant,  and  the  sincerely  conscientious 
tolerant.  A  man  who  is  careless  about 
religious  sincerity,  may  clearly  see  and 
appreciate  the  political  convenience  of 
religious  uniformity;  and  if  he  has  no 
religious  scruples  of  his  own,  he  will  not 
be  the  more  likely  to  be  tender  of  the 
religious  scruples  of  others  :  if  he  is 
ready  himself  to  profess  what  he  does 
not  believe,  he  will  see  no  reason  why 
others  should  not  do  the  same. 

That  man  on  the  contrary  whose  own 
conscience  is  tender,  and  his  sense  of 
religion  deep-felt  and  sincere,  will  be  (so 
far)  the  more  disposed  to  respect  the 
conscience  of  another,  and  to  avoid 
giving  occasion  to  hypocritical  profes- 
sions. His  own  faith  being  founded  on 
genuine  conviction,  he  will  seek  for  the 
genuine  conviction  of  others,  and  not 
their  forced  conformity.  He  will  re- 
member that  "  the  highest  truth,  if  pro- 
fessed by  one  who  believes  it  not  in  his 
heart,  is,  to  him,  a  lie,  and  that  he  sins 
greatly  by  professing  it.  Let  us  try  as 
much  as  we  will,  to  convince  our  neigh- 
bours; but  let  us  beware  of  influencing 
their  conduct,  when  we  fail  in  influencing 
their  convictions.  He  who  bribes  or 
frightens  his  neighbours  into  doing  an 
act  which  no  good  man  would  do  for 
'reward,  or  from  fear,  is  tempting  his 
neighbour  to  sin ;  he  is  assisting  to  lower 
and  to  harden  his  conscience ; — to  make 


CHRISTIANITY  A  SOCIAL  RELIGION. 


him  act  for  the  favour  or  from  the  fear  of 
man,  instead  of  for  the  favour  and  from 
the  fear  of  God  :  and  if  this  be  a  sin  in 
him,  it  is  a  double  sin  in  us  to  tempt  him 
to  it."* 

And  above  all,  in  proportion  as  any 
man  has  a  right  understanding  of  the 
Gospel,  and  a  deep  veneration  for  his 
great  Master,  and  an  earnest  desire  to 
tread  in  his  steps,  and  a  full  confidence 
in  his  promises,  in  the  same  degree  will 
he  perceive  that  the  employment  of 
secular  coercion  in  the  cause  of  the 
Gospel  is  at  variance  with  the  true  spirit 
of  the  Gospel ;  and  that  Christ's  declara- 
tions are  to  be  interpreted  as  He  himself 
knew  them  to  be  understood,  then,  and 
are  to  be  the  guide  of  his  followers,  now. 

And  finally,  such  a  man  will  be  con- 
vinced that  it  implies  a  sinful  distrust, — 


a  want  of  faith  in  Christ's  wisdom,  and 
goodness,  and  power, — to  call  in  the  aid 
of  the  arm  of  flesh  of  military  or  civil 
force, — in  the  cause  of  Him  who  declared 
that  He  could  have  called  in  the  aid  of 
"more  than  twelve  legions  of  angels;" 
and  who,  when  "  all  power  was  given 
unto  Him  in  Heaven  and  in  Earth,"  sent 
forth  his  disciples — not  to  subjugate,  or 
to  coerce,  but  to  "  teach  all  nations ;" 
and  "  sent  them  forth  as  sheep  among 
the  wolves,"  forewarned  of  persecutions, 
and  instructed  to  "bless  them  that  cursed 
them,"  to  return  "  good  for  evil ;"  and 
to  "endure  all  things, — hope  all  things, — 
believe  all  things,"  for  which  He,  their 
Master,  had  prepared  them  : — to  believe 
all  that  He  had  taught, — to  hope  all  that 
He  had  promised,  and  to  endure  and  do 
all  that  He  had  commanded. 


ESSAY  II. 


ON    THE    CONSTITUTION    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH,    ITS    POWERS,    AND    MINISTRY. 

Ov  ya,p  eavTovs  x.qgv&e'ofAsv,  aAXa  Xgtcrroi'    lyo-ovv  Kf^tov  tstvrovq  d/?  oovhov$  vpui  o»a 

v,.     2  Cor.  iv.  5. 


§  1.  OF  all  who  acknowledged  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  as  their  Master,  "  the  Au- 
thor and  Finisher  of  their  faith,"  there 
are  scarcely  any  who  do  not  agree  in  re- 
garding Him  as  the  Founder  and  per- 
petual Head  of  a  religious  Society  also ; 
— as  having  instituted  and  designed  for 
permanent  continuance,  a  Community  or 
system  of  Communities,  to  which  his 
Disciples  here  on  earth  were  to  belong. 
The  religion  He  introduced  was  mani- 
festly designed  by  Him, — and  so  under- 
stood by  his  immediate  followers, — to  be 
a  social  Religion.  It  was  not  merely  a 
revelation  of  certain  truths  to  be  re- 
ceived, and  of  practical  rules  to  be  ob- 
served,— it  was  not  a  mere  system  of 
doctrines  and  precepts  to  be  embraced  by 
each  individual  independently  of  others ; 
and  in  which  his  agreement  or  co-opera- 
tion with  any  others  would  be  acci- 
dental ;  as  when  several  men  have  come 


Arnold's  Christian  Life,  p.  435. 


to  the  same  conclusions  in  some  Science, 
or  have  adopted  the  same  system  of 
Agriculture  or  of  Medicine ;  but  it  was 
to  be  a  combination  of  men  who  should 
be  "members  of  the  Body  of  Christ," 
— living  stones  of  one  Spiritual  Temple;* 
"  edifying"  (i  e.  building  up)  "  one  another 
in  their  Faith ;" — and  brethren  of  one 
holy  Family. 

This  "  Kingdom  of  Heaven,"  as  it  is 
called,  which  the  Lord  Jesus  established, 
was  proclaimed  (i.  e.  preached)f  by  his 
forerunner,  John  the  Baptist,  as  "  at 
hand."  And  the  same,  in  this  respect, 
was  the  preaching  of  our  Lord  Himself, 

*  See  Sermon  IV.,  "  On  a  Christian  Place  of 
Worship,"  and  also  Dr.  Hinds'  "Three  Tem- 
ples." 

-f-  This  word  has  come  to  be  ordinarily  applied 
to  religious  instruction  ;  from  which,  however,  it 
is  always  clearly  distinguished  in  Scripture.  It 
signifies,  properly,  to  announce  as  a  herald.  Our 
Lord's  "preac/iing  that  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven 
was  at  hand,"  and  his  teaching  the  People,  are 
always  expressed  by  different  words. 


CHRISTIANITY  A   SOCIAL  RELIGION. 


and  of  his  Disciples, — first  the  Twelve, 
and  afterwards  the  Seventy, — whom  He 
sent  out  during  his  ministry  on  earth. 
The  good  tidings  they  were  to  proclaim, 
were  only  of  the  approaching  Kingdom 
of  Heaven;  it  was  a  joyful  expectation 
only  that  they  were  commissioned  to 
spread  :  it  was  a  preparation  of  men's 
hearts  for  the  coining  of  that  Kingdom, 
that  they  were  to  teach. 

But  when  the  personal  ministry  of 
Christ  came  to  a  close,  the  Gospel  they 
were  thenceforward  to  preach  was  the 
good  tidings  of  that  Kingdom  not  ap- 
proaching merely,  but  actually  begun, — 
of  the  first  Christian  Community  set  on 
foot, — of  a  kingdom  which  their  Master 
had  "appointed  unto  them:"  thence- 
forward, they  were  not  merely  to  an- 
nounce that  kingdom,  but  to  establish  it, 
and  invite  all  men  to  enrol  themselves  in 
it :  they  were  not  merely  to  make 
known,  but  to  execute,  their  Master's 
design,  of  commencing  that  Society  of 
which  He  is  the  Head,  and  which  He  has 
promised  to  be  with  "  always,  even  unto 
the  end  of  the  world."* 

We  find  Him,  accordingly,  directing 
them  not  only  to  u  go  into  all  the  world, 
and  preach  to  every  creature,"!  but 
further,  to  "  teach"  ("  make  disciples 
of,"  as  in  the  margin  of  the  Bible)  "  all 
nations  ;"  admitting  them  as  members  of 
the  Body  of  Disciples,  by  "baptizing 
them  into:}:  the  name  of  the  Father,  and 
the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost." 

Of  his  design  to  establish  what  should 
be  emphatically  a  Social  Religion, — a 
"  Fellowship"  or  "Communion  of  Saints," 
there  can  be,  I  think,  no  doubt  in  the 


*  It  i?  likely  that  the  Doxology  at  the  end  of 
the  Lord's  Prayer,  "  Thine  is  the  kingdom,  and 
the  power,  and  the  glory,"  (which  all  the  soundest 
critics,  I  believe,  are  now  agreed,  does  not  exist 
in  the  best  MSS.  of  the  Gospels,)  was  adopted  by 
the  Disciples  very  soon  after  our  Lord's  departure 
from  earth.  At  the  time  when  He  first  taught 
the  prayer  to  his  Disciples,  it  would  have  been 
premature  to  speak  of  the  heavenly  kingdom  in 
the  present  tense,  as  actually  established.  They 
were  taught  to  pray  for  its  coming  as  a  thing  | 
future.  At  a  later  period,  it  was  no  less  proper  to  j 
allude  to  it  as  already  existing;  and  the  prayer 
for  its  "coming"  would  be,  from  the  circum- 
stances of  the  case,  a  prayer  for  its  continued  ex- 
tension and  firmer  hold  on  men's  hearts. 

f  See    a    Sermon    by   Dr.   Dickinson,    (now  ' 
Bishop  of  Meath,)  on  our  Lord's  two  charges  to 
his  disciples. 

%  "  In  the  name,"  is  a  manifest  mistranslation, 
originating,  apparently,  with  the  Vulgate  Latin, 
which  has  "  in  nomine."  The  preposition,  in  the 
original,  is  not  iv  but  tl;  "into"  or  "to." 


23 

mind  of  any  reflecting  reader  of  our 
sacred  books.  Besides  our  Lord's  gene- 
ral promise  of  "  coming  unto,  and  dwell- 
ing in,  any  man  who  should  love  Him 
and  keep  his  saying,"  there  is  a  distinct 
promise  also  of  an  especial  presence  in 
any  Assembly — even  of  "  two  or  three — 
gathered  together  in  his  name."  Besides 
the  general  promises  made  to  prayer, — to 
the  prayer  of  an  individual  "in  the 
closet," — there  is  a  distinct  promise  also 
to  those  who  shall  u  agree  together  touch- 
ing something  they  shall  ask."  And  it 
is  in  conformity  with  his  own  institution 
that  Christians  have,  ever  since,  celebrated 
what  they  designate  as,  emphatically,  the 
Communion,  by  "  meeting  together  to 
break  bread,"  in  commemoration  of  his 
redemption  of  his  People. 

His  design,  in  short,  manifestly  was  to 
adapt  his  Religion  to  the  social  principles 
of  man's  nature;*  and  to  bind  his  disci- 
ples, throughout  all  ages,  to  each  other, 
by  those  ties  of  mutual  attachment,  sym- 
pathy, and  co-operation,  which  in  every 
human  Community  and  Association,  of 
whatever  kind,  are  found  so  powerful. 

§  2.  Obvious,  and  indeed  trite,  as  the 
remark  may  appear,  most  persons  are  apt, 
I  think,  not  sufficiently  to  consider  what 
important  conclusions  result  from  it; — 
how  much  is  implied  in  the  constituting 
of  a  Community.  It  is  worth  while,  there- 
fore, to  pause  at  this  point,  and  inquire 
what  are  the  inherent  properties  and  uni- 
versal character  naturally  and  necessarily 
belonging  to  any  regularly-constituted  so- 
ciety, as  such,  for  whatever  purpose  form- 
ed. For  I  think  it  will  appear,  on  a  very 
simple  examination,  that  several  points 
which  have  been  denied  or  disregarded  by 
some,  and  elaborately,  but  not  always  sa- 
tisfactorily maintained  by  others,  arise,  as 
obvious  consequences,  out  of  the  very  in- 
trinsic character, — the  universal  and  ne- 
cessary description  of  a  regular  community. 

It  seems  to  belong  to  the  very  essence 
of  a  Community,  that  it  should  have — 
1st,  Officers  of  some  kind ;  2dly,  Rules 
enforced  by  some  kind  of  penalties ;  and 
3dly,  Some  power  of  admitting  and  ex- 
cluding persons  as  Members. 

For,  1st,  whatever  may  be  the  charac- 
ter, and  whatever  the  proposed  objects,  of 
a  regularly-constituted  Community,  Offi- 
cers of  some  kind  are  essential  to  it.  In 
whatever  manner  they  may  be  appointed, 
— whether  by  hereditary  succession,  or  by 

*  See  Bampton  Lectures  for  the  year  1822, 
Lect.  I. 


24 


RIGHTS  DIVINELY  CONFERRED  ON  A  CHURCH. 


rotation, — or  by  election  of  any  kind, — 
whatever  be  the  number  or  titles  of  them, 
and  whatever  the  distribution  of  their  func- 
tions,— (all  which  are  matters  of  detail,) 
Officers  of  some  kind  every  Community 
must  have.  And  these,  or  some  of  these, 
while  acting  in  their  proper  capacity,  re- 
present the  Community,  and  are,  so  far, 
invested  with  whatever  powers  and  rights 
belong  to  it ;  so  that  their  acts,  their  rights, 
their  claims,  are  considered  as  those  of  the 
whole  Body.  We  speak,  e.  g.  indifferent- 
ly of  this  or  that  having  been  done  by  the 
Athenians,  the  Romans,  the  Carthaginians ; 
or  by  the  Athenian,  the  Roman,  or  Car- 
thaginian Government  or  Rulers*  And 
so  also  when  we  speak  of  the  acts  of  some 
University,  or  of  the  Governors  of  that 
University,  we  are  using  two  equivalent 
expressions. 

2dly.  It  seems  equally  essential  to  every 
Community  that  it  should  have  certain 
Regulations  or  By-laws,  binding  on  its 
own  members.  And  if  it  be  not  wholly 
subjected  to  the  control,  and  regulated  by 
the  directions  of  some  extraneous  power, 
but  is  in  any  degree  an  independent  Com- 
munity, it  must  so  far  have  power  to  en- 
act, and  abrogate, — to  suspend,  alter,  and 
restore  by-laws,  for  itself;  namely,  such 
regulations,  extending  to  matters  intrin- 
sically indifferent,  as  are  not  at  variance 
with  the  enactments  of  any  superior  au- 
thority. The  enforcement  also  of  the  re- 
gulations of  a  Community  by  some  kind 
of  Penalties,  is  evidently  implied  by  the 
very  existence  of  Regulations.  To  say  of 
any  Community  that  its  Laws  are  valid, 
and  binding  on  its  members,  is  to  say  that 
the  violators  of  them  may  justly  be  visited 
with  penalties :  and  to  recognize  Officers 
in  any  Community  is  to  recognize  as 
among  its  Laws,  submission  to  those  offi- 
cers while  in  the  exercise  of  their  legiti- 
mate functions. 

In  the  case  of  Political  Communities, 
which  is  a  peculiar  one,  inasmuch  as  they 
necessarily  exercise  an  absolutely-coercive 
power, — the  penalties  must  be  determined 
according  to  the  wisdom  and  justice  of 
each  Government,  and  can  have  no  other 
limit.  But  in  a  voluntary  Community,  the 
ultimate  Penalty  must  be  expulsion ;  all 
others,  short  of  this,  being  submitted  to 

*  And  it  is  to  be  observed  that  it  makes  no  dif- 
ference, as  to  this  point,  whether  the  Governors 
are  elected  by  the  governed,  and  in  any  degree  re- 
strained by  them,  or  are  hereditary  and  unlimited. 
In  all  cases,  the  established  and  recognized  Rulers 
of  any  Community  are  considered  as  represent- 
ing it. 


as  the  alternative*  But  in  every  Com- 
munity, of  whatever  description  (or  in 
those  under  whose  control  it  is  placed) 
there  must  reside  a  power  of  enacting, 
enforcing,  and  remitting,  the  Penalties  by 
which  due  submission  to  its  laws  and  to 
its  officers  is  to  be  secured. 

3dly.  Lastly,  no  less  essential  to  a  Com- 
munity seems  to  be  a  power,  lodged  some- 
where, of  determining  questions  of  Mem- 
bership. Whatever  may  be  the  claims  or 
qualifications  on  which  that  may  depend, 
— nay,  even  whether  the  community  be  a 
voluntary  Association,  or  (as  is  the  case 
with  political  Communities)  one  claiming 
compulsory  power, — and  whatever  may 
be  its  purpose — in  all  cases,  the  admission 
to  it,  or  exclusion  from  it,  of  each  indivi- 
dual, must  be  determined  by  some  recog- 
nized authority. 

Since  therefore  this  point,  and  also  those 
others  above-mentioned,  seem,  naturally 
and  necessarily,  to  belong  to  every  regular 
Community, — since  it  must,  in  short,  con- 
sist of  regularly  constituted  Members,  sub- 
ject to  certain  Rules,  and  having  certain 
Officers,  it  follows,  that  whoever  directs 
or  sanctions  the  establishment  of  a  Com- 
munity (as  our  Lord  certainly  did  in  re- 
spect of  Christian  Churches,)  must  be 
understood  as  thereby  sanctioning  those 
institutions  which  belong  to  the  essence 
of  a  Community.  To  recognize  a  Com- 
munity as  actually  having  a  legitimate  ex- 
istence, or  as  allowably  to  be  formed,  is 
to  recognize  it  as  having  Officers, — as 
having  Regulations  enforced  by  certain 
Penalties,  and  as  admitting  or  refusing  to 
admit  Members. 

§  3.  All  this,  I  say,  seems  to  be  im- 
plied by  the  very  nature  of  the  case. 
But,  on  purpose,  as  it  should  seem,  to 
provide  against  any  misapprehension  or 
uncertainty,  our  Lord  did  not  stop  at  the 
mere  general  sanction  given  by  Him  to 
the  formation  of  a  Christian  Community, 
but  He  also  particularized  all  the  points 
I  have  been  speaking  of.  He  appointed  or 
ordained  the  first  Officers;  He  recognized 
the  power  of  enacting  and  abrogating 
Rules ;  and  He  gave  authority  for  the  ad- 
mitting of  Members. 

Such  is  the  obvious  sense  of  his  direc- 
tions to  his  Apostles :  obvious,  1  mean, 
to  them, — with  such  habits  of  thought  and 
of  expression  as  they  had,  and  as  He 
must  have  known  them  to  have.  He  must 
have  known  well  what  meaning  his  words 
would  convey  to  his  own  countrymen,  at 

*  See  Appendix,  Note  (B.) 


CONSTITUTION  OP  THE  JEWISH  CHURCH. 


25 


that  time.     But  some  things  which  would 
appear  plain  and  obvious  to  a  Jew, — even 
an  unlearned  Jew, — in  those  days,  may 
be  such  as  to  require  some  examination 
and  careful  reflection  to  enable  us,  of  a 
distinct  Age  and  Country,  to  apprehend 
them  in  the  same  sense.     When  however 
we  do  examine  and  reflect,  we  can  hardly  | 
doubt,  I  think — considering  to  whom,  and  j 
at  what  time,  He  was  speaking — that  our  • 
Lord  did  sanction  and  enjoin  the  forma-  ; 
tion  of  a  permanent  religious  Community  | 
or   Communities,   possessing    all    those  | 
powers  which  have  been  above  alluded 
to.     The  power  of  "  binding  and  loos- 
ing;1'-— L  e.  enacting  and  enforcing,  and  j 
of  abrogating  or  suspending  regulations  for  j 
a  Christian  Society, — was  recognized  by  • 
his  promise*  of  the  divine  ratification  of  i 
those  acts, — the  "  binding  and  loosing  in  j 
heaven."     The   "  Keys  of  the  Kingdom  | 
of  Heaven,"  denote  the  power  of  admit- ; 
ting  persons  Members  of  the  Church,  and 
excluding  them  from  it.     And  the  expres-  ! 
sion  respecting  the   "  remitting  and   re- ' 
taining  of  sins,"  if  it  is  to  be  understood 
(as  I  think  it  is)  as  extending  to  any  thing 
beyond  the  power  of  admitting  members 
into  Christ's  Church  by  "Baptism  for  re- 
mission of  sins,"  must  relate  to  the  en- 
forcement or  remission  of  ecclesiastical 
censures  for  offences  against  a  Christian 
Community. 

By  attentive  reflection  on  the  two  topics 
I  have  here  suggested — namely,  on  the 
rights  and  powers  essentially  inherent  in 
a  Community,  and  consequently  implied 
in  the  very  institution  of  a  Community, 
so  far  as  they  are  not  expressly  excluded ; 
and  again  on  the  declarations  of  our  Lord, 
as  they  must  have  been  understood  by  his 
Disciples, — by  reflection,  I  say,  on  these 
two  topics,  we  shall  be  enabled,  I  think, 
to  simplify  and  clear  up  several  questions 
which  have  been  sometimes  involved  in 
much  artificial  obscurity  and  difficulty. 

§  4.  And  our  view  of  the  sense  in 
which  our  Lord's  directions  are  to  be  un- 
derstood will  be  the  more  clear  and  de- 
cided, if  we  reflect  that  all  the  circum- 
stances which  have  been  noticed  as  na- 
turally pertaining  to  every  Community,  are 
to  be  found  in  that  religious  Community 
in  which  the  Disciples  had  been  brought 
up ; — the  Jewish  Church,  or  (as  it  is 
called  in  the  Old  Testament)  the  Congre- 
gation, or  Ecclesia,|  of  which  each  Syna- 
gogue was  a  branch.J  It  had  regular 


See  Appendix,  Note  (C).          f  Septuagint. 
See  Vitringa  on  the  Synagogue. 

D 


Officers ; — the  Elders  or  Presbyters,  the 
Rulers  of  Synagogues,  Ministers  or  Dea- 
cons, 8cc. — it  had  By-laws  ;  being  not 
only  under  the  Levitical  Law,  but  also 
having  authority,  within  certain  limits,  of 
making  regulations,  and  enforcing  them 
by  penalties  (among  others,  that  which 
we  find  alluded  to  in  the  New  Testament, 
of  excommunicating  or  "  casting  out  of 
the  Synagogue") :  and  it  had  power  to 
admit  Proselytes. 

With  all  these  points  then,  the  Disci- 
ples of  Jesus  had  long  been  familiar. 
And  He  spoke  of  them  in  terms  with 
which  they  must  have  been  well  ac- 
quainted. For  instance,  the  expression, 
"  binding  and  loosing,"*  was,  and  still  is, 
perfectly  familiar  to  the  Jews,  in  the 
sense  of  enforcing  and  abrogating  rules ; 
or, — which  amounts  precisely  to  the  same 
thing, — deciding  as  to  the  manner,  and 
the  extent,  in  which  a  previously  exist- 
ing law  is  to  be  considered  as  binding : 
as  is  done  by  our  Judges  in  their  record- 
ed Decisions. 

The  Jewish  Church  was  indeed  sub- 
ject, by  divine  authority,  to  the  Levitical 
Law.  But  minute  as  were  the  directions 
of  that  Law,  there  were  still  many  points 
of  detail,  connected  with  the  observance 
of  it,  which  required  to  be  settled  by 
some  competent  authority :  such  as,  for 
instance,  what  was,  or  was  not,  to  be  re- 
garded as  "  work"  forbidden  on  the  Sab- 
bath : — what  was  to  be  considered  as 
"servile  work,"  forbidden  on  certain 
other  days ; — and  in  what  way  the  in- 
junctions respecting  their  food,  their  gar- 
ments, the  sowing  of  their  fields,  and 
several  other  matters,  were  to  be  ob- 
served.f 

In  regard  to  regulations  of  this  kind, 
our  Lord  recognizes  the  authority  of  the 
Jewish  Rulers,  as  being  so  far  successors 
of  Moses ;  for  He  tells  his  hearers,  "  The 
Scribes  and  Pharisees  sit  in  Moses'  seat ; 
all,  therefore,  whatsoever  they  bid  you 
observe,  that  observe,  and  do."  And 
though  He  adds  a  caution  not  to  "  do 
after  their  works,  for  they  say,  and  do 
not,"  He  does  not  teach  that  their  per- 
sonal demerits,  or  even  that  gross  abuse  of 
their  power,  which  he  strongly  repro- 


*  See  Lightfoot  on  this  subject,  and  also  Dr. 
Wotton's  valuable  work  on  the  Mishna. 

•j-  Those  who  can  procure  or  gain  access  to  Dr. 
W.  Wotton's  Selections  from  the  Mishna,  will  find 
in  it  much  curious  and  interesting  information 
relative  to  these  and  several  other  particulars,  which 
throws  great  light  on  many  passages  of  the  New 
Testament. 


!sO  COMMISSION  TO  THE  DISCIPLES. 

bates,  could  invalidate  the  legitimate  ex- 1  as  against  God; — that  a  man  could  be 
ercise  of  that  power.  Indeed,  since  there  !  authorized  either  to  absolve  the  impeni- 
is  hardly  any  human  government  that  has  |  tent,  or  to  shut  out  from  divine  mercy  the 
not,  at  some  time  or  other,  abused,  more'  penitent;  or  again,  to  read  the  heart,  so  as 
or  less,  the  power  entrusted  to  it,  to  deny  to  distinguish  between  the  two,  without 
on  that  ground  all  claims  whatever  to  an  express  inspiration  in  each  particular 
submission  would  be  the  very  principle  |  case. 

of  anarchy.  And  this  express  inspiration  in  particu- 

The  Jewish  Rulers  went  beyond  their ;  lar  cases,  whatever  may  have   been  their 
proper  province,  when,  instead  of  merely  j  original  expectations,  they  must  soon  have 


making  such  regulations  as  were  neces- 
sary with  a  view  to  the  due  observance 
of  the  Mosaic  Law,  they  superadded,  on 
the  authority  of  their  supposed  Tradition, 
commandments  foreign  to  that  Law  ;  and, 
still  more,  evasions  of  the  spirit  of  it.* 

Jesus  accordingly  censures  them  se- 
verely, as  "  teaching  for  doctrines  the 
commandments  of  men ;"  and  again,  as 
"  making  the  Word  of  God  of  none  effect, 
by  their  Tradition."  But  still  He  dis- 
tinctly recognizes  their  legitimate  author- 
ity in  making  such  regufations  as  were 
necessarily  left  to  their  determination. 

§  5.  And  his  disciples,  therefore,  who 
have  both  of  these  his  declarations,  could 
not  have  been  at  any  loss  to  understand 
what  He  meant  by  giving  to  themselves 
and  the  succeeding  Officers  of  a  Christian 
Church,  the  power  to  "  bind  and  loose." 
He  charged  them  to  "  teach  every  one  to 
observe  all  things  whatsoever  He  had 
commanded  them ;"  promising  to  be 
them  always,  even  to  the  end  of 
the  world  ;"  and  He  also  gave  them  the 
power  of  u  binding  and  loosing  ;"  saying, 
"  whatsoever  ye  shall  bind  on  earth  shall 
be  bound  in  heaven  :"  (i.  e.  ratified  by  the 
divine  sanction,)  "and  whatsoever  ye 
shall  loose  on  earth,  shall  be  loosed  in 
heaven." 

They  would  of  course  understand  by 
this,  not  that  they,  or  any  of  their  suc- 
cessors, could  have  authority  to  dispense 
with  their  Master's  commandments — to 
add  to  or  alter  the  terms  of  Gospel  salva- 
tion— to  teach  them,  in  short,  not.  to  "  ob- 
serve what  He  had  commanded  them," 
but  to  enact,  from  time  to  time,  to  alter, 
to  abrogate,  or  to  restore,  regulations  re- 
specting matters  of  detail,  not  expressly 
determined  in  Scripture,  but  which  yet 
must,  be  determined  in  some  way  or  other, 
with  a  view  to  the  good  order  of  the 
Community,  and  the  furtherance  of  its 
great  objects. 

So,  also,  we  cannot  suppose  they  would 
even  suspect  that  they,  or  any  mortal 
man,,  can  have  "  power  to  forgive  sins," 


See  Wotton  on  the  Mishna. 


learned  they  were  not  to  look  for.  They 
were  to  use  their  best  discretion,  to  exer- 
cise due  caution,  in  guarding  against  the 
admission  of  "  false  brethren" — "  deceit- 
ful workers" — hypocritical  pretenders  to 
Christian  faith  and  purity  ;  but  they  had 
not,  universally  at  least,  any  supernatural 
safeguard  against  such  hypocrisy. 

The  example  of  Simon  Magus  would 
alone  show  this,  even  if  there  were  no 
others  to  be  found.  He  was,  we  find, 
baptized  along  with  the  other  Samaritans, 
(Acts  viii.  13,)  professing,  as  of  course  he 
must  have  done,  sincere  repentance  and 
devotion  to  Christ :  and  yet  the  Apostles 
find  him,  after  this,  to  be  still  "  in  the  gall 
of  bitterness  and  in  the  bond  of  iniquity." 
Acts  viii.  21. 

But  still,  the  Gospel  or  good-tidings 
which  they  were  authorized  and  enjoined 
to  proclaim,  being  most  especially  tidings 
of  u  remission  of  sins"  to  all  who  should 
accept  the  invitation  made  to  them  by  the 
preachers  of  that  Gospel,  they  might  pro- 
perly be  said  to  "  remit"  or  u  retain" 
according  as  they  admitted  to  Baptism  the 
attentive  and  professedly-penitent  and  be- 
lieving hearers,  and  left  out  of  the  number 
of  the  subjects  of  Christ's  kingdom  those 
who  neglected  or  opposed  Him.*  "Re- 
pent and  be  baptized  every  one  of  you 
for  the  remission  of  sins"  is  accordingly 
the  kind  of  language  in  which  they  invite 


their  hearers 


every 


where  to 


join 


the 


Body  of  their  Master's  People ;  and  yet 
it  is  certain  the  remission  of  sins  was 
conditional  only,  and  dependent  on  a  con- 
dition of  which  they — the  Apostles  them- 
selves— had  no  infallible  knowledge;  the 

*  Of  course,  if  there  had  been  a  distinct  divine 
appointment  of  such  a  sacrament  as  that  of  Pe- 
nance, as  it  is  called  (including  private  Confession 
and  priestly  Absolution)  we  should  have  been 
bound  to  regard  that  in  the  same  light  as  we  do 
the  sacraments  of  Baptism  and  of  the  Eucharist. 
Without  presuming  to  set  limits  to  the  divine 
favour,  we  feel  bound  to  resort  to,  and  to  adminis- 
ter these,  as  appointed  means  of  grace.  But  if 
there  had  not  been  that  divine  appointment  of 
these  sacraments,  a  Church  would  have  no  more 
authority  to  confer  on  them  a  sacramental  charac- 
ter, than  on  the  pretended  sacrament  of  Penance. 


PENALTIES  FOR  ECCLESIASTICAL  OFFENCES. 


condition  being,  the  real  sincerity  of  tha 
penitence  and  faitli  which  the  converts 
appeared  and  professed  to  have.* 

§  6.  But  although  this  is  the  only  sense 
in  which  the  Apostles,  or  of  course  any 
of  their  successors  in  the  Christian  minis- 
try, can  be  empowered  to  u  forgive  sins' 
as  against  God ;  i.  e.  though  they  can 
only  pronounce  and  proclaim  his  forgive- 
ness of  all  those  who  come  to  Him  through 
Christ,  and  assure  each  individual  of  his 
acceptance  with  God,  supposing  him  to 
be  one  of  "  those  who  truly  repent  and 
unfeignedly  believe,"  yet  offences,  as 
against  a  Community ,  may,  it  is  plain,  be 
pardoned,  or  pardon  for  them  withheld, 
by  that  Community,  or  by  those  its  offi 
cers  who  duly  represent  it. 

Whether  our  Lord  intended,  in  what 
He  said  of  u  remitting  and  retaining  sins," 
to  include  (as  seems  to  me  a  probable 
supposition)  this  power  of  inflicting  or 
removing  ecclesiastical  censures  for  trans- 
gressions of  the  regulations  of  a  Society, 
we  may  be  perhaps  not  authorized  posi- 
tively to  conclude;  but  at  any  rate,  such 
a  power  is  inherent  necessarily  in  every 
Community,  so  far  as  not  expressly  re- 
served for  some  superior  jurisdiction: 
regulations  of  some  sort  or  other,  and 
consequently  enforcement  of  those  regu- 
lations by  some  kind  of  penalties,  being 
essential  to  a  Community,  and  implied  in 
the  very  nature  of  it. 

But  what  leads  to  confusion  of  thought 
in  some  minds  is,  that  the  same  action 
may  often  have  two  distinct  characters, 
according  to  the  light  in  which  it  is 
viewed;  whether  as  a  sin'\  against  God, 
or  as  a  crime  in  reference  to  the  Com- 
munity; and  hence  they  are  sometimes 
led  to  confound  together  the  pardoning 
of  the  crime — the  offence  against  the 
Community — with  the  pardoning  of  the 
sin.  Now  the  regularly-appointed  Minis- 
ters— the  Officers  of  a  Community  may 
be  authorized  to  enforce  or  remit  penalties 
against  the  ecclesiastical  offence,  the  crime 
in  reference  to  the  Community;  and  may 
pronounce  an  absolute  and  complete  par- 
don of  a  particular  offender,  for  a  particular 
act,  on  his  making  the  requisite  submis- 
sion and  reparation,  and  appearing  out- 
wardly, as  far  as  man  can  judge,  a  proper 
subject  for  such  pardon;  while  the  pardon 
of  sin  as  against  God  must  be  conditional 
on  that  hearty  inward  repentance,  of 

*  See  Speech  of  Bishop  Stanley  in  the  House 
of  Lords,  May  26,  1840. 

•j-  See  Waiburton's  Div.  Leg. 


which,  in  each  case,  God  only,  or  those 
to  whom  He  may  impart  the  knowledge, 
can  adequately  judge. 

When  Paul  says  to  the  Corinthians  in 
reference*  to  that  member  of  their  Church 
who  had  caused  a  scandal  by  his  offence, 
"  to  whomsoever  ye  forgive  any  thing,  I 
forgive  it  also,"  though  I  am  far  from 
saying  that  the  offender's  sin  against  God 
was  not  pardoned,  it  is  quite  plain  this  is 
not  what  the  Apostle  is  here  speaking  of. 
He  is  speaking  of  a  case  in  which  they 
and  he  were  not  merely  to  announce,  but 
to  bestow  forgiveness.  They  were  to  re- 
ceive back  the  offender,  who  had  scandal- 
ized the  Society,  into  the  bosom  of  that 
Society,  on  his  professing  with  sincerity, 
or  rather  apparent  sincerity  (for  of  that 
alone  they  could  be  judges)  his  contrition. 
They  would,  of  course — as  believing 
those  his  professions — cherish  a  confident 
hope  that  his  sin  against  God  was  par- 
doned. But  doubtless  they  did  not  pre- 
tend either  to  an  omniscient  discernment 
of  his  sincerity,  or  to  the  power  either 
of  granting  divine  pardon  to  the  impeni- 
tent, or  of  excluding  from  God's  mercy 
the  repentant  sinner. 

§  7.  Then  again,  with  respect  to  the 
"  Keys  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven"  which 
our  Lord  promised  (Matt.  xvi.  19.)  to 
give  to  Peter,f  the  Apostles  could  not,  I 


*  2  Cor.  ii.  10. 

•j-  There  seems  good  reason  to  believe, — though 
t  would  be  most  unwarrantable  to  make  it  an 
article  of  faith, — that  Peter  really  was  the  chief 
of  the  Apostles ;  not,  certainly,  in  the  sense  of 
exercising  any  supremacy  and  absolute  control 
over  them, — as  dictating  to  their  consciences, — as 
finally  deciding  all  cases  of  doubt — or  as  claiming 
any  right  to  interfere  in  the  Churches  other  Apos- 
tles had  founded,  (See  Gal.  ii.  7—9  and  11—14,) 
ut  as  the  chief  in  dignity ;  taking  precedence  of 
the  rest,  and  acting  as  President,  Chairman,  or 
Speaker  in  the  meetings.  Peter,  and  James,  and 
John,  and  sometimes  Peter,  and  James, — always 
with  Peter  placed  foremost,  were  certainly  dis- 
tinguished, as  appears  from  numerous  passages  in 
:he  Gospels,  from  the  rest  of  the  Apostles.  He 
was  apparently  the  chief  Spokesman  on  the  day 
of  Pentecost,  when  the  Jewish  Believers  were  first 
called  on  to  unite  themselves  into  a  Church ;  and 
le  was  the  chosen  instrument  in  founding  the 
irst  Church  of  the  ("  devout")  Gentiles,  opening 
,he  door  of  the  Kingom  of  Heaven  to  Cornelius 
and  his  friends. 

I  need  hardly  add,  that  to  claim  on  that^account 
'or  Peter's  supposed  successors  such  supreme 
jurisdiction  over  the  whole  Church-universal,  as 
IB  himself  neither  exercised  nor  claimed,  would 
>e  most  extravagant.  Moreover,  since  whatever 
ire-eminence  he  did  possess,  was  confessedly  not 
conferred  on  him  as  Bishop  of  Rome,  his  supposed 
uccessors  in  that  See  cannot,  manifestly,  have 
,ny  claim  to  that  pre-eminence;  any  more  than 


28 


POWER  OF  THE  KEYS. 


conceive,  doubt  that  He  was  fulfilling 
that  promise,  to  Peter  and  to  the  rest  of 
them  conjointly,  when  He  "appointed 
unto  them  a  Kingdom,"  and  when,  on 
the  day  of  Pentecost,  He  began  the  build- 
ing of  His  Church,  and  enabled  them, 
with  Peter  as  their  leader  and  chief  spokes- 
man, to  open  a  door  for  the  entrance  of 
about  three  thousand  converts  at  once; 
who  received  daily  accessions  to  their 
number.  The  Apostles,  and  those  com- 
missioned by  them,  had  the  office  of 
granting  admission  into  the  Society  from 
time  to  time,  to  such  as  they  judged 
qualified.* 

And  that  this  Society  or  Church — 
was  "  that  Kingdom  of  Heaven"  of  which 
the  keys  were  committed  to  them,  and 
which  they  had  before  proclaimed  as  "  at 
hand,"  they  could  not  doubt.  They  could 
not  have  been  in  any  danger  of  cherishing 
any  such  presumptuous  dream,  as  that 
they  or  any  one  else,  except  their  divine 
Master,  could  have  power  to  give  or  re- 
fuse admittance  to  the  mansions  of  im- 
mortal bliss. 

On  the  whole  then,  one  who  reads  the 
Scriptures  with  attention  and  with  candour 
will  be  at  no  loss,  I  conceive,  to  ascertain 
what  was  the  sense,  generally,  in  which 
our  Lord's  Disciples  would  understand  his 
directions  and  injunctions.  Besides  what 
is  implied,  naturally  and  necessarily,  in 
the  very  institution  of  a  Community,  we 
know  also,  what  the  instructions  were 
which  the  Disciples  had  already  been 
accustomed  to  receive  from  their  Master, 
and  what  was  the  sense  they  had  been 
used  from  childhood  to  attach  to  the  ex- 
pressions He  employed.  And  as  we  may 
be  sure,  I  think,  how  they  would  under- 
stand his  words,  so  we  may  be  equally 
sure  that  He  would  not  have  failed  to 
undeceive  them,  had  they  mistaken  his 
real  meaning ;  which  therefore,  we  cannot 
doubt,  must  have  been  that  which  these 
Disciples  apprehended. 

§  8.  As  for  the  mode  in  which  the 
Apostles  and  other  early  Christian  Minis- 
ters carried  into  effect  the  directions  they 
had  received,  we  have  indeed  but  a  few, 
and  those  generally  scanty  and  incidental, 

the  successors  of  King  William  the  Third,  in  the 
office  of*  Stadtholder,  could  claim  the  English 
throne.  And  to  speak  of  a  succession  of  men  as 
being,  each,  a  foundation  on  which  the  Church 
is  built,  is  not  only  extravagant  but  unmeaning. 

*  <ra>£oju.tvc,vc,  rendered  in  our  version  "  such  as 
should  be  saved ;"  by  which  our  Translators  pro- 
bably meant,  according  to  the  idiom  of  their  day, 
(which  is  the  true  sense  of  the  original,)  "  persons 
entering  on  the  road  of  salvation." 


notices  in  the  sacred  writers ;  but  all  the 
notices  we  do  find,  go  to  confirm — if  con- 
firmation could  be  wanted — what  has  been 
just  said,  as  to  the  sense  in  which  our 
Lord  must  have  been  understood — and 
consequently,  in  which  He  must  have 
meant  to  be  understood — by  his  Disciples. 
And  among  the  important  facts  which 
we  can  collect  and  fully  ascertain  from 
the  sacred  historians,  scanty  and  irregular 
and  imperfect  as  are  their  records  of  par- 
ticulars, one  of  the  most  important  is  that 
very  scantiness  and  incompleteness  in  the 
detail ;  that  absence  of  any  full  and  sys- 
tematic description  of  the  formation  and 
regulation  of  Christian  Communities,  that 
has  been  just  noticed.  For  we  may 
plainly  infer,  from  this  very  circumstance, 
the  design  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  that  those 
details,  concerning  which  no  precise  di- 
rections, accompanied  with  strict  injunc- 
tions, are  to  be  found  in  Scripture,  were 
meant  to  be  left  to  the  regulation  of  each 
Church,  in  each  Age  and  Country.  On 
any  point  in  which  it  was  designed  that 
|  all  Christians  should  be,  every  where,  and 
at  all  times,  bound  as  strictly  as  the  Jews 
|  were  to  the  Levitical  Law,  we  may  fairly 
conclude  they  would  have  received  direc- 
I  tions  no  less  precise,  and  descriptions  no 
j  less  minute,  than  had  been  afforded  to  the 
Jews. 

Jt  has  often  occurred  to  my  mind  that 
the  generality  of  even  studious  readers 
|  are  apt,  for  want   of  sufficient  reflection, 
[  to  fail  of  drawing  such  important  inferences 
I  as  they  often  might,  from  the  omissions 
|  occurring  in  any  work  they  are  perusing ; 
— from  its  not  containing  such  and  such 
things  relative  to  the  subject  treated  of. 
There  are  many  cases  in  which  the  non- 
insertion  of  some  particulars  which,  under 
other  circumstances,  we  might  have  cal- 
culated on  meeting  with,  in  a  certain  book, 
will  be  hardly  less  instructive  than  the 


things  we  do  meet  with. 

And  this  is  much  more  especially  the 
case  when  we  are  studying  works  which 
we  believe  to  have  been  composed  under 
divine  guidance.  For,  in  the  case  of  mere 
human  compositions,  one  may  conceive 
an  author  to  have  left  out  some  important 
circumstances,  either  through  error  of 
judgment,  or  inadvertency,  or  from  having 
written  merely  for  the  use  of  a  particular 
class  of  readers  in  his  own  time  and 
country,  without  any  thought  of  what 
might  be  necessary  information  for  persons 
at  a  distance  and  in  after  ages ;  but  we 
cannot,  of  course,  attribute  to  any  such 
causes  omissions  in  the  inspired  Writers. 


CHRISTIAN  CHURCHES  DERIVED  FROM   SYNAGOGUES. 


On  no  supposition  whatever  can  we 
account  for  the  omission,  by  all  of  them, 
of  many  points  which  they  do  omit,  and 
of  their  scanty  and  slight  mention  of 
others,  except  by  considering  them  as 
withheld  by  the  express  design  and  will 
(whether  communicated  to  each  of  them 
or  not)  of  their  Heavenly  Master,  restrain- 
ing them  from  committing  to  writing  many 
things  which,  naturally,  some  or  other  of 
them,  at  least,  would  not  have  failed  so  to 
record. 

1  have  set  forth  accordingly,  in  a  dis- 
tinct Treatise,*  these  views  respecting  the 
Omissions  in  the  Sacred  Books  of  the  New 
Testament,  and  the  important  inferences 
thence  to  be  deduced.  We  seek  in  vain 
there  for  many  things  which,  humanly 
speaking,  we  should  have  most  surely 
calculated  on  finding.  "No  such  thing  is 
to  be  found  in  our  Scriptures  as  a  Cate- 
chism, or  regular  Elementary  Introduction 
to  the  Christian  Religion;  nor  do  they 
furnish  us  with  any  thing  in  the  nature  of 
a  sytematic  Creed,  set  of  Articles,  Con- 
fession of  Faith,  or  by  whatever  other 
name  one  may  designate  a  regular,  com- 
plete Compendium  of  Christian  doctrines  : 
nor,  again,  do  they  supply  us  with  a 
Liturgy  for  ordinary  Public  Worship,  or 
with  Forms  for  administering  the  Sacra- 
ments, or  for  conferring  Holy  Orders ;  nor 
do  they  even  give  any  precise  directions 
as  to  these  and  other  ecclesiastical  mat- 
ters ; — any  thing  that  at  all  corresponds  to 
a  Rubric,  or  set  of  Canons." 

Now  these  omissions  present,  as  I  have, 
in  that  Treatise,  endeavoured  to  show, 
a  complete  moral  demonstration  that  the 
Apostles  and  their  followers  must  have 
been  supernatur ally  withheld  from  record- 
ing great  part  of  the  institutions,  instruc- 
tions, and  regulations,  which  must,  in 
point  of  fact,  have  proceeded  from  them ; 
withheld,  on  purpose  that  other  Churches, 
in  other  ages  and  regions,  might  not  be 
led  to  consider  themselves  bound  to  ad- 
here to  several  formularies,  customs,  and 
rules,  that  were  of  local  and  temporary 
appointment;  but  might  be  left  to  their 
own  .discretion  in  matters  in  which  it 
seemed  best  to  divine  wisdom  that  they 
should  be  so  left/f 

§  9.  With  respect  to  one  class  of  those 
points  that  have  been  alluded  to,  it  is 
probable  that  one  cause — humanly  speak- 
ing— why  we  find  in  the  Sacred  Books 


*  Essay  VI.,  First  Series.    See  Appendix,  Note 
(D.) 
f  See  Appendix,  Note  (D.) 


29 


less  information  concerning  the  Christian 
Ministry  and  the  Constitution  of  Church 
Governments  than  we  otherwise  might 
have  found,  is  that  these  institutions 
had  less  of  novelty  than  some  would  at 
first  sight  suppose,  and  that  many  por- 
tions of  them  did  not  wholly  originate 
with  the  Apostles.  It  appears  highly 
probable — 1  might  say  morally  certain* — 
that  wherever  a  Jewish  Synagogue  existed 
that  was  brought, — the  whole  or  the  chief 
part  of  it, — to  embrace  the  Gospel,  the 
Apostles  did  not,  there,  so  much  form  a 
Christian  Church,  (or  Congregation  ;|  Ec- 
clesia,)  as  make  an  existing  Congrega- 
tion Christian;  by  introducing  the  Chris- 
tian Sacraments  and  Worship,  and  estab- 
lishing whatever  regulations  were  requi- 
site for  the  newly  adopted  faith ;  leaving 
the  machinery  (if  I  may  so  speak)  of 
government  unchanged ;  the  Rulers  of 
Synagogues,  Elders,  and  other  Officers 
(whether  spiritual  or  ecclesiastical,  or 
both)  being  already  provided  in  the  exist- 
ing institutions.  And  it  is  likely,  that  se- 
veral of  the  earliest  Christian  Churches 
did  originate  in  this  way ;  that  is,  that 
they  were  converted  synagogues;  which 
became  Christian  Churches  as  soon  as  the 
members,  or  the  main  part  of  the  mem- 
bers, acknowledged  Jesus  as  the  Messiah. 
The  attempt  to  effect  this  conversion 
of  a  Jewish  Synagogue  into  a  Christian 
Church,  seems  always  to  have  been  made, 
in  the  first  instance,  in  every  place  where 
there  was  any  opening  for  it.  Even  after 
the  call  of  the  idolatrous  Gentiles,  it  ap- 
pears plainly  to  have  been  the  practice  of 
the  Apostles  Paul  and  Barnabas,J  when 


*  See  Lightfoot,  Appendix,  Note  (C.) 
j  The  word  "  Congregation"  as  it  stands  in 
our  Version  of  the  Old  Testament,  (and  it  is  one 
of  very  frequent  occurrence  in  the  Books  of  Mo- 
ses,) is  found  to  correspond,  in  the  Septuagint, 
which  was  familiar  to  the  New  Testament  writers, 
to  Ecclesia ;  the  word  which,  in  our  version  of 
these  last,  is  always  rendered — not  "  Congrega- 
tion," but  "  Church."  This,  or  its  equivalent 
"  Kirk,"  is  probably  no  other  than  "  circle ;"  t.  e. 
Assembly,  Ecclesia. 

^  These  seem  to  be  the  first  who  were  employed 
in  converting  the  idolatrous  Gentiles  to  Christian- 
ity,* and  their  first  considerable  harvest  among 
these  seems  to  have  been  at  Antioch  in  Pisidia,  as 
may  be  seen  by  any  one  who  attentively  reads  the 
13th  chapter  of  Acts.  Peter  was  sent  to  Corne- 
lius, a  "devout"  Gentile, — one  of  those  who  had 
renounced  idolatry  and  frequented  the  Synagogues. 
And  these  seem  to  have  been  regarded  by  him  as 
in  an  especial  manner  his  particular  charge.  His 
Epistles  appear  to  have  been  addressed  to  them;  as 
may  be  seen  both  by  the  general  tenor  of  his  ex- 


*  See  Barrington's  Miscellanea  Sacra. 

3* 


30 


RECORDS    RELATING  TO    CHURCH    GOVERNMENT,  SCANTY. 


they  came  to  any  city  in  which  there  was 
a  Synagogue,  to  go  thither  first  and  de- 
liver their  sacred  message  to  the  Jews  and 
u devout  (or  proselyte)  Gentiles;" — ac- 
cording to  their  own  expression,  (Acts  xiii. 
16,)  to  the  "men  of  Israel  and  those  that 
feared  God  :"  adding,  that  it  was  neces- 
sary that  the  Word  of  God  should  first 
be  preached  to  them." 

And  when  they  found  a  church  in  any 
of  those  cities  in  which  (and  such  were, 
probably,  a  very  large  majority)  there  was 
no  Jewish  Synagogue  that  received  the 
Gospel,  it  is  likely  they  would  still  con- 
form, in  a  great  measure,  to  the  same 
model. 

But  though,  as  has  been  said,  the  cir- 
cumstance just  mentioned  was  probably 
the  cause — humanly  speaking — why  some 
particulars  are  not  recorded  in  our  exist- 
ing Sacred  Books,  which  otherwise  we 
might  have  found  there,  still,  it  does  seem 
to  me  perfectly  incredible  on  any  suppo- 
sition but  that  of  supernatural  interfe- 
rence, that  neither  the  Apostles  nor  any 
of  their  many  followers  should  have  com- 
mitted to  writing  any  of  the  multitude  of 
particulars  which  we  do  not  find  in  Scrip- 
ture, and  concerning  which  we  are  per- 
fectly certain  the  Apostles  did  give  instruc- 
tions, relative  to  Church-Government,  the 
Christian  Ministry,  and  Public  Worship. 
When  we  consider  how  large  a  portion  of 
the  churches  and  of  the  ministers  were 
Gentiles,  and  strangers  to  the  constitution 
of  Jewish  Synagogues,  and  also  how 
much  was  introduced  that  was  new  and 
strange,  even  to  Jewish  Christians  (as  well 
as  highly  important) — the  Christian  Sa- 
crament being  wholly  new,  and  the 
prayers  in  a  great  measure  so — we  may 
judge  how  great  a  number  of  particular 
directions  must  have  been  indispensably 
necessary  for  all;  directions  which  it 
would  have  been  natural,  humanly  speak- 
ing, for  the  Apostles  or  their  attendants  to 
have  recorded  in  writing ;  and  which,  if 
it  had  not  been  done,  would  naturally 
have  been  so  recorded  by  the  persons  to 
whom  they  were  delivered.  "  Suppose 
we  could  make  out  the  possibility  or  pro- 
bability, of  Paul's  having  left  no  Creed, 
Catechism,  or  Canons,  why  have  we  none 
from  the  pen  of  Luke,  or  of  Mark  ?  Sup- 
pose this  also  explained,  why  did  not 


|  John    or   Peter   supply    the   deficiency  t 
'  And  why  again  did  none  of  the  numerous 

•  bishops  and  presbyters   whom  they   or- 
!  dained,  undertake  the  work  under  their 
1  direction  ?"*     u  And  that  there  is  nothing 

in  the  Christian  Religion  considered  in  it- 
I  self,  that  stands  in  the  way  of  such  a  pro- 
!  cedure,  is  plain  from  the  number  of  works 
!  of  this  description  which  have  appeared 
I  from  the  earliest  times,  (after  the  age  of 
'  inspiration,)  down  to  the  present ;  from 
the  writings  entitled  the  'Apostles'  Creed,' 
and  the  'Apostolical  Constitution,'  &c. 
I  (compositions  of  uncertain  authors,  and, 
;  amidst  the  variety  of  opinions  respecting 
|  them,  never  regarded  as  Scripture)  down 

•  to  the   modern  Formularies  and  Confes- 
sions of  Faith.     Nor  again  can  it  be  said 
that  there  was  any  thing  in  the  founders 

I  of  the  religion,  any  more  than  in  the  reli- 
gion   itself,    which,   humanly    speaking, 
should  seem  likely  to  preclude  them  from 
transmitting  to  us  such  compositions.  On 
the  contrary,  the  Apostles,  and  the  rest  of 
the  earlier  preachers  of  Christianity,  were 
;  brought   up  Jews ;  accustomed  in   their 
i  earliest  notions  of  religion,  to  refer  to  the 
Books  of  the  Law,  as  containing  precise 
statements  of  their  Belief,  and  most  mi- 
nute directions  as  to  religious  worship  and 
i  ceremonies.     So  that  to  give  complete  and 
|  regular  instructions  as  to  the    character 
I  and  the  requisitions  of  the  new  religion 
as   it  would  have   been  natural,  for  any 
one,  was  more  especially  to  be  expected 
of  these  inen/f 

We  are  left  then,  and  indeed  unavoida- 
bly led,  to  the  conclusion,  that  in  respect 
of  these  points  the  Apostles  and  their  fol- 
lowers were,  during  the  age  of  inspiration, 
supernaturally  withheld  from  recording 
tho.se  circumstantial  details  which  were 
not  intended  by  divine  Providence  to  be 
;  absolutely  binding  on  all  Churches,  in 
every  Age  and  Country,  but  were  meant 
to  be  left  to  the  discretion  of  each  par- 
ticular Church.J 

§  10.  The  absence  of  such  detailed  de- 
scriptions and  instructions  as  I  have  been 
adverting  to,  is  the  more  striking  when 
contrasted  with  the  earnest  and  frequent 
j  inculcations  we  do  meet  with,  of  the  great 
fundamental  Gospel  doctrines  and  moral 
duties,  which  are  dwelt  upon  in  so  many 
passages,  both  generally,  and  in  reference 


pressions,*  and  especially  in  the  opening  address ; 
which  is  not  (as  would  appear  from  our  Version) 
to  the  dispersed  Jews,  but  to  the  "  sojourners  of  the 
dispersion  Tracer JM/UCU:  SI-JLTTT^^^  e.  e.  the  devout 
Gentiles  living  among  the  "  Dispersion  " 

*  See  Hind's  History,  vol.  ii. 


*  Essay  on  Omissions,  p.  1 9. 

j-  Essay  on  Omissions,  pp.  7,  8. 

$  See  some  valuable  remarks  on  this  subject,  in 
a  pamphlet  by  Dean  Hoare,  entitled  "  Letters  on 
the  Tendency  and  Principles  advocated  in  the 
"  Tracts  for  the  Times." 


REMARKABLE  CIRCUMSTANCES  IN  SOME  DETAILS. 


31 


to  various  classes  of  persons,  and  various 
occasions.  Our  sacred  writers  have  not 
recorded  their  Creeds, — their  Catechisms 
for  the  elementary  instruction  of  converts, 
— their  forms  of  Public  Prayer  and  Psalm- 
ody,— or  their  modes  of  administering 
the  Sacraments  ; — they  have  not  even  de- 
scribed the  posture  in  which  the  Eucha- 
rist was  received,  or  the  use  of  leavened 
or  unleavened  bread  ;  (two  points  on 
which,  in  after  ages,  bitter  controversies 
were  raised,)  nor  many  other  things  which 
we  are  certain  Paul  (as  well  as  the  other 
Apostles)  "  set  in  order,  when  he  came" 
to  each  Church. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  plainly 
recorded  that  they  did  establish  Churches 
wherever  they  introduced  the  Gospel ; 
that  they  ordained  elders  in  every  city," 
and  the  Apostles  again  delegated  that  of- 
fice to  others ;  that  they  did  administer 
the  rite  of  Baptism  to  their  converts  ;  and 
that  they  celebrated  the  communion  of 
the  Lord's  Supper.  And  besides  the  gene- 
ral principles  of  Christian  Faith  and  Mo- 
rality which  they  sedulously  set  forth, 
they  have  recorded  the  most  earnest  ex- 
hortations to  avoid  "  confusion"*  in  their 
public  worship;  to  do  "all  things  de- 
cently and  in  order;"  to  "  let  all  things 
be  done  to  edifying,"  and  not  for  vain- 
glorious display ;  they  inculcate  the  duty 
of  Christians  "assembling  themselves  to- 
gether" for  joint  worship ;  theyf  record 
distinctly  the  solemn  sanction  given  to  a 
Christian  Community;  they  inculcate^ 
due  reverence  and  obedience  to  those  that 
"  bear  rule"  in  such  a  community,  with 
censure  of  such  as  walk  "  disorderly" 
and  "cause  divisions;"  and  they  dwell 
earnestly  on  the  care  with  which  Chris- 
tian Ministers,  both  male  and  female, 
should  be  selected,  and  on  the  zeal,  and 
discretion,  and  blameless  life  required  in 
them,  and  on  their  solemn  obligation  to 
"  exhort,  rebuke,  and  admonish  :"  yet 
with  all  this,  they  do  not  record  even  the 
number  of  distinct  orders  of  them,  or  the 
functions  appropriated  to  each,  or  the  de- 
gree, and  kind,  and  mode  of  control  they 
exercised  in  the  Churches. 

While  the  principles,  in  short,  are 
clearly  recognized,  and  strongly  inculcat- 
ed, which  Christian  Communities  and  in- 
dividual members  of  them  are  to  keep  in 
mind  and  act  upon,  with  a  view  to  the 
great  objects  for  which  these  Communi- 
ties were  established,  the  precise  modes 

*  1  Cor.and  1  Tim.  f  Heb.  x.  25. 

4  See  Hebrews  and  Timothy. 


'in  which  these  objects  are,  in  each  case, 
to  be  promoted,  are  left, — one  can  hardly 
doubt,  studiously  left — undefined. 

§  11.  Many  of  the  omissions  I  have 
alluded  to,  will  appear  even  the  more 
striking  in  proportion  as  we  contemplate 
with  the  more  minute  attention  each  part 
of  the  sacred  narrative.  For  instance,  it 
is  worth  remarking  that  the  matters  con- 
cerning which  the  Apostle  Paul's  Epistles 
do  contain  the  most  detailed  directions, 
are  most  of  them  precisely  those  which 
every  one  perceives  to  have  relation  only 
to  the  times  in  which  he  wrote  ;  such  as 
the  eating  or  abstaining  from  "  meats  of- 
fered to  idols,"  and  the  use  and  abuse  of 
supernatural  gifts.  He  was  left,  it  should 
seem,  unrestrained  in  recording  —  and 
hence  he  does  record, — particular  direc- 
tions in  those  cases  where  there  was  no 
danger  of  those  his  directions  being  ap- 
plied in  all  Ages  and  Countries,  as  bind- 
ing on  every  Church  for  ever.  Again, 
almost  every  attentive  reader  must  have 
been  struck  with  the  circumstance,  that 
there  is  no  such  description  on  record  of 
the  first  appointment  of  the  higher  Orders 
of  Christian  Ministers  as  there  is  (in  Acts 
vi.)  of  the  ordination  of  the  inferior  Class, 
the  Deacons.  And  this  consideration 
alone  would  lead  a  reflecting  mind  to 
conclude,  or  at  least  strongly  suspect, 
that  the  particular  notice  of  this  appoint- 
ment of  Deacons  is  incidental  only,  and 
that  probably  there  would  have  been  as 
little  said  of  these,  as  of  the  Presbyters, 
but  for  the  circumstance  of  the  extraor- 
dinary effect  produced  by  two  of  these 
Deacons,  Stephen  and  Philip,  as  preach- 
ers :  the  narrative  of  their  appointment 
being  a  natural,  and  almost  necessary,  in- 
troduction to  that  of  two  most  important 
events,  the  great  outbreak  of  persecu- 
tion consequent  on  Stephen's  martyrdom 
(which  seems  to  have  led,  through  the 
dispersion  of  the  Disciples,  to  the  found- 
ing of  the  first  purely  Gentile  Church,  at 
Antioch,*  and  the  conversion  of  Samaria. 
But  this  conclusion  is  greatly  strength- 
ened, when,  on  a  closer  examination,  we 
find  reason  to  be  convinced  that  these, 
so-called,  first  seven  Deacons,  who  are 
usually  assumed  (for  I  never  met  with 
even  any  attempt  at  proof)  to  have  been 
the  first  that  ever  held  such  an  office, 
were,  in  reality,  only  the  first  Grecian^ 


*  See  Encyclop.  Metrop.  (Ecclesiastical  His- 
tory)  on  the  designation  of  Christians  first  given 
to  the  Disciples  at  that  place. 

f  Hellenist,  or  "  Grecian,"  is  the  term  con- 
stantly used  for  the  Jews  who  used  the  Greek 


32 


REMARKABLE  CIRCUMSTANCES 


Deacons,  and  that  there  were  Hebrew 
Deacons  before. 

The  following  extract  from  an  able 
Article  in  the  Encyclopaedia  Metropo- 
litana  on  Ecclesiastical  History,  will 
make  this  point,  I  think,  perfectly  clear. 

u  Meanwhile  within  the  Church  itself 
were  displayed  some  slight  symptoms  of 
discontent,  which  deserve  to  be  noticed 
particularly,  on  account  of  the  measure 
to  which  they  gave  rise.  The  complaint 
is  called  'a  murmuring  of  the  Grecians 
(or  foreign  Jews)  against  the  Hebrews, 
(or  native  Jews,)  because  their  widows 
were  neglected  in  the  daily  ministration.' 
Who  these  widows  probably  were  has 
already  been  suggested;  and  if  the  sug- 
gestion, that  they  were  deaconesses,  be 
admitted,  the  grounds  of  the  complaint 
may  be  readily  surmised.  As  the  greater 
share  of  duty  would  at  this  time  devolve 
on  the  Hebrew  widows  or  deaconesses, 
they  might  have  been  paid  more  liberally, 
as  their  services  seemed  to  require ;  and 
hence  the  discontent. 

"  This,  it  is  true,  supposes  that  the 
order  of  deacons  and  deaconesses  already 
existed,  and  may  seem  at  first  to  contra- 
dict the  statement  of  St.  Luke,  that  in 
consequence  of  this  murmuring,  deacons 
were  appointed.  It  does  not,  however, 
really  contradict  it;  for  evidently  some 
dispensers  there  must  have  been,  and  if 
so,  either  the  Apostles  must  have  offi- 
ciated as  deacons,  or  special  deacons 
there  must  have  been,  by  whatever  name 
they  went.  That  the  Apostles  did  not 
officiate,  is  plain  from  the  tenor  of  the 
narrative,  which  indicates  that  the  appeal 
was  made  to  them,  and  that  they  ex- 
cused themselves  from  presiding  person- 
ally at  the  '  ministration,'  (as  was  pro- 
bably desired  by  the  discontented  party,) 
alleging  that  it  was  incompatible  with 
their  proper  duties.  *  It  is  not  reason 
that  we  should  leave  the  word  of  God, 
and  serve  tables.'  This  very  assertion, 
then,  is  proof  certain  that  they  did  not 
officiate.  Again,  on  reading  over  the 
names  of  the  seven  deacons,  we  find 
them  all  of  the  Grecian  or  Hellenistic 
party;  Stephen,  Philip,  Prochorus,  Nica- 
nor,  Timon,  Parmenas,  and  Nicolas,  the 
last  of  whom  is  expressly  described  as 
"a  proselyte  of  Aritioch."  Now  this 
surely  would  have  produced,  in  turn,  a 
murmuring  of  the  Hebrews  against  the 


language  /  as  distinguished  from  Hellen,  a  Greek 
or  Gentile  by  nation. 


Grecians,  unless  they  had  already  had 
some  in  office  interested  in  looking  after 
their  rights.  With  these  presumptions 
in  favour  of  a  previous  appointment  of 

I  deacons,  it  would  seem  then,  that  these 

I  seven  were  added  to  the  former  number, 
because  of  the  complaint. 

"  All  that  is  thus  far  intimated  of  their 
office  is,  that  they  were  employed  in  the 
daily  distribution  of  the  alms  and  the 
stipends  due  from  the  public  fund.  Whe- 
ther, even  at  the  first,  their  duties  were 
limited  to  this  department  of  service,  may 
be  reasonably  doubted.  Of  this  portion 

I  of  their  duties  we  are  now  informed  ; 
obviously,  because  to  the  unsatisfactory 
mode  in  which  this  had  been  hitherto 
performed  it  was  owing,  that  the  new 
appointment  took  place,  and  that  the 
subject  was  noticed  at  all.  It  is,  how- 
ever, by  no  means  improbable,  that  the 

,  young  men  who  carried  out  the  dead 
bodies  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira,  and  who 
are  described  as  '  ready'  in  attendance, 

j  were  of  the  same  order ;  in  other  words, 
deacons  by  office,  if  not  by  name.  What 
may  serve  to  confirm  this  view  of  it  is, 
the  opposition  between  what  would  seem 
to  have  been  their  original  title,  and  an- 

|  other  order  in  the  Church.  They  are 
called  'juniors'  and  '  young  men,'  (nurs- 
£o»  Ha/tcrxoi,)  terms  so  strongly  opposed 
to  presbyters  or  elders  as  to  incline  one 

'  at  the  first  glance  to  consider  them  as 

i  expressive  of  the  two  orders  of  the 
ministry,  the  seniors  and  the  juniors, 

(the   KPto"  {Sure  got   Stattotoi   and   the    tsurs^oi, 

',  hccwot ;)  the  two  orders,  in  short,  which 
|  at  length  received  the  fixed  and  perpetual 
titles  of  presbyters  and  deacons. 

"Accordingly,  there  is  no  just  ground 

for  supposing,  that  when  the  same  term 

j  deacon  occurs  in  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul, 

a  different  order  of  men  is  intended  :  first, 

because  an  office  may  preserve  its  original 

name    long   after   the    duties    originally 

I  attached   to  it  have  been  changed ;  and, 

|  secondly,  because,  whatever  duties  may 

have  been  added  to  the  office  of  deacons, 

:  it  is  certain  that  the  duty  of  attending  to 

j  the  poor  was  for  several  centuries  attached 

I  to  it.     Even  after  the  deacons  ceased  to 

,  hold   the    office    of  treasurers,   and   the 

Bishops  began  to  receive  the  revenues  of 

'  their  respective  sees,  the  distribution   of 

j  that  portion  which  was  allotted  to  charity 

j  still   passed    through    the    hands  of  the 

deacons.     Hence,  in  a  still  later  period, 

the  title  of  cardinal  deacon ;  and  hence, 

too,  the  appropriation  of  the  term  dia- 

conicz  to  those  Churches  wherein  alms 


IX  SOME  RECORDED  DETAILS. 


used  to  be  collected  and  distributed   to 
the  poor. 

'•  Not  that  it  is  possible  to  point  out, 
with  any  thing  like  precision,  the  course 
of  duty  which  belonged  to  the  primitive 
deacons.  That  it  corresponded  entirely 
with  that  of  our  present  order  of  deacons 
is  very  unlikely,  whatever  analogy  be 
allowed  from  their  relative  situation  in  the 
Church.  As  the  Church  during  the  greater 
part  of  the  first  century  was  a  shifting, 
and  progressive  institution,  their  duties 


33 

him  consider  that,  however  unimportant 
in  itself,  it  is  one  which  throws  much  ad- 
ditional light  on  the  subject  now  before 
us.  We  not  only  find  few  and  scanty 
records  of  those  details  of  the  Church- 
government  established  by  the  Apostles, 
which,  if  they  had  designed  to  leave  a 
model  absolutely  binding  on  all  Christians 
for  ever,  we  might  have  expected  to  find 
fully  and  clearly  particularized,  but  also 
we  find  that  a  part  even  of  what  the  in- 
spired writers  do  record,  is  recorded  inci- 


probably  underwent  continual  change  and  j  dentally  only,  for  the  elucidation  of  the 
modification.  If  we  were  to  be  guided,  rest  of  the  narrative;  and  not  in  pursu- 
for  instance,  by  the  office  in  which  we  ance  of  any  design  to  give  a  detailed 
find  the 4  young  men,' (»ia»i<r*»»,)  engaged,  statement  of  such  particulars.  Thus  a 


when  the  dead  bodies  of  Ananias  and 
Sapphira  were  removed,  we  should  say 
that  they  performed  the  business  which 
in  the  present  day  would  devolve  on  the 
inferior  attendants  of  our  churches.  If, 
again,  we  were  to  judge  of  their  charac- 
ter from  the  occasion  on  which  we  find 
them  acting  as  stewards  of  the  Church 
a  higher  station  would  be  doubtless 
assigned  to  them,  but  still,  one  not  more 
nearly  connected  with  the  ministry  of  the 
word,  nor  approaching  more  to  the  sphere 
of  duty  which  belongs  to  our  deacons. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  instances  of  Stephen 
and  Philip  prove,  that  the  title  was  applied 
to  those  who  were  engaged  in  the  higher 
departments  of  ttie  ministry,  although  not 
in  the  highest. 

"  After  all,  it  is  most  likely  that  the 
word  deacon  was  originally  applied,  as 
its  etymology  suggests,  to  all  the  ministers 
of  the  Gospel  establishment.  But  the 
Apostles  having  from  the  first  a  specific 
title,  it  more  properly  denoted  any  minis- 
ter inferior  to  them,  —  any,  however  em- 
ployed in  the  service  of  the  Church.  Be- 
tween these,  also,  there  soon  obtained  a 
distinction.  If  we  suppose,  then,  that  the 
seniors,  or  superior  class,  were  distin- 
tinguished  by  the  obvious  title  of  Elder 
deacons, 


the  generic 
and  unappropriated  term  '  deacon'  would 
devolve  on  the  remaining  class.  And  thus 
the  present  Order  in  the  Church,  to  which 
that  name  is  applied,  may  be  truly  asserted 
to  be  deacons  in  the  apostolical  and  primi- 
tive sense  of  the  word  ;  and  yet,  never- 
theless, much  may  be  said  about  deacons, 
both  in  the  New  Testament  and  in  the 
writings  of  the  early  fathers,  which  will 
not  apply  to  them." 

If  any  one  should  be  disposed  to  think 
it  a  question  of  small  moment  whether 
Stephen  and  his  companions  were  or  were 
not  the  first  Deacons  ever  appointed  let 


further  confirmation  is  furnished  of  the 
view  that  has  been  taken  ;  viz.,  that  it  was 
the  plan  of  the  Sacred  Writers  to  lay  down 
clearly  the  principles  on  which  Christian 
Churches  were  to  be  formed  and  governed, 
leaving  the  mode  of  application  of  those 
principles  undetermined  and  discretionary. 

§  12.  Now  what  did  the  Holy  Spirit 
design  us  to  learn  from  all  this  ?  In  the 
first  place  "  he  that  hath  ears  to  hear" 
may  draw  from  it,  as  has  been  already 
observed,  a  strong  internal  evidence  of 
the  genuineness  and  of  the  inspired  cha- 
racter of  our  Sacred  Books  ;  inasmuch  as 
they  do  not  contain  what  would  surely 
have  been  found  in  the  works  of  men 
(whether  impostors  or  sincere)  left  to 
themselves  to  record  \vhatever  seemed  in- 
teresting and  important. 

And  this  point  of  evidence  presents 
itself  to  the  mind  at  once,  before  we  have 
even  begun  to  inquire  into  the  particular 
object  proposed  in  the  omission  ;  because 
we  may  be  sure,  in  this  case,  that  what, 
did  not  come  from  Man  must  have  come 
from  God.* 

But  besides  this  we  may  fairly  infer,  I 
think,  that  what  is  essential  is  to  be  found 
clearly  laid  down  in  Scripture ;  and  that 
those  points  which  are  either  wholly 
passed  over  in  silence,  (when  they  are 
such  that  we  are  certain  from  the  nature 
of  the  case,  the  Apostles  must  have  given 
some  directions  relative  to  them,)  or  are 
slightly  mentioned,  imperfectly  described, 
and  incidentally  alluded  to,  must  belong 
to  the  class  of  things  either  altogether 
indifferent,  or  so  far  non-essential  in  their 
character  that u  it  is  not  necessary  (as  our 
34th  Article  expresses  it)  they  should  be 
in  all  places  one  and  utterly  alike ;" — 
such  in  short  that  divine  wisdom  judged 
it  best  they  should  be  left  to  the  discre- 


See  Appendix,  Note  (E.) 


34 


CHRISTIANITY,  A  RELIGION  WITHOUT  SACRIFICE, 


tion  of  each  Church  in  each  Age  and  which  might  have  been  expected  to  appear 
Country,*  and  should  be  determined  ac-  j  in  that,  supposing  it  of  human  origin ; 
cording  to  the  principles  which  had  been  |but  which  are  expressly  excluded  from 
distinctly  laid  down  by  divine  authority;  jit.  It  may  be  worth  while  however  to 
while  the  application  of  those  principles  !  advert  to  a  few  of  the  most  remarkable. 
in  particular  cases  was  left  (as  is  the  case  The  Christian  Religion,  then,  arose, 
with  our  moral  conduct  alsof)  to  the  re-  ;  be  it  remembered,  among  a  People  who 
sponsible  judgment  of  Man.  I  not  only  looked  for  a  temporal  Deliverer 

It  was  designed  in  short  that  a  Church  .'and  Prince  in  their  Messiah,  but  who  had 
should  have  (as  our  34th  Article  ex-  j  been  accustomed  to  the  sanction  of  tern- 
presses  it)  "  authority  to  ordain,  change,  poral  rewards  and  judgments  to  the  divine 
and  abolish  ceremonies  and  rites  resting  .  Law  ;* — whose  Laws,  in  religious  and  in 
on  Man's  authority  only:"  (this,  be  it  j  secular  matters  alike,  claimed  to  be  an 
observed,  including  things  which  may  |  immediate  revelation  from  Heaven — whose 
have  been  enjoined  by  the  Apostles  to  civil  Rulers  were  regarded  as  delegates 
those  among  whom  they  were  living,  and  from  "  the  Lord  their  God,  who  was  their 
•which,  to  those  persons,  had  a  divine  king,"  and  were  enjoined  to  punish  with 
authority;  but  which  are  not  recorded  death,  as  a  revolt  from  the  Supreme  Civil 
by  the  sacred  writers  as  enjoined  univer-  Authority, — as  a  crime  of  the  character 
sally)  "so  that  all  things  be  done  to  of  high-treason, — any  departure  from  the 
edifying  :"  but  that  "  as  no  Church  ought  [  prescribed  religion,  it  arose  in  a  Nation 
to  decree  any  thing  against  Holy  Writ,  |  regarding  themselves  as  subjects  of  a 
so  betides  the  same  ought  it  not  to  enforce  j  "Kingdom  of  God"  that  was,  emphatically, 
the  belief  of  any  thing  as  necessary  to  j  a  kingdom  of  this  world :  and  its  most 
salvation."  'prominent  character  was  its  being  "a 

§  13.  And  we  may  also  infer  very  ! Kingdom  not  of  this  world;"  it  was  in 
clearly  from  an  attentive  and  candid  sur-  all  respects  the  very  reverse  in  respect 
vey  of  the  Sacred  Writings,  not  only  that  j  of  the  points  just  mentioned,  of  what 


some  things  were  intended  to  be  absolutely 
enjoined  as  essential,  and  others  left  to 
the  discretion  of  the  rulers  of  each  Church, 
but  also  that  some  things,  again,  were 
absolutely  excluded,  as  inconsistent  with 
the  character  of  a  Christian  Community. 
It  is  very  important  therefore,  and,  to 
a  diligent,  and  reflective,  and  unprejudiced 
reader,  not  difficult, — by  observing  that 
the  Sacred  Writers  have  omitted,  and 


might  have  been  expected,  humanly  speak- 
ing, from  Jewish  individuals,  and  of  what 
was  expected  by  the  Jewish  Nation;  and 
it  may  be  added,  of  what  many  Christians 
have  in  every  Age  laboured  to  represent 
and  to  make  it.  While  the  mass  of  his 
own  People  were  seeking  "to  take  Jesus 
by  force  to  make  Him  a  king,"  (a  proce- 
dure which  has  been,  virtually,  imitated 
by  a  large  proportion  of  his  professed 


what  they  have  mentioned,  and  in  what  I  followers  ever  since)  He  Himself  and  his 


manner  they  have  mentioned  each,  to 
form  in  his  mind  distinctly  the  three 
classes  just  alluded  to  :  viz.,  1st,  of  things 
essential  to  Christianity,  and  enjoined  as 
universally  requisite ;  2dly,  those  left  to 
the  discretion  of  the  governors  of  each 
Church ;  and  3dly,  those  excluded  as  in- 
consistent with  the  character  of  the  Gos- 
pel religion. 

These  last  points  are  not  least  deserv- 
ing of  a  careful  examination ;  especially 
on  account  of  the  misconceptions  relative 
to  them,  that  have  prevailed  and  still  pre- 
vail, in  a  large  portion  of  the  Christian 
World.  It  would  lead  me  too  far  from 
the  subject  now  immediately  under  con- 
sideration, to  enter  into  a  full  examination 
of  all  the  features  that  are  to  be  found  in 
most  religions  except  the  Christian,  and 

*  See  Appendix,  Note  (F.) 

j-  Essay  on  Abolition  of  Law.     Second  Series. 


Apostles,  uniformly  and  sedulously,  both 
in  their  precepts,  and  in  their  conduct, 
rejected,  as  alien  from  the  character  of  the 
Gospel,  all  employment  of  secular  co- 
ercion in  behalf  of  their  religion, — all 
encroachments  on  "  the  things  that  be 
Caesar's;"  and  maintained  the  purely 
spiritual  character  of  that  "  Kingdom  of 
Heaven"  which  they  proclaimed. 

On  this,  every  way  most  important 
point,  I  have  treated  at  large  in  the  first 
Essay  in  this  volume,  and  also,  in  the 
Essay  on  Persecution,  (3d  Series,)  and  the 
Essays  on  the  Dangers  to  Christianity, 
(4th  Series.) 

§  14.  Moreover  the  Gospel  religion 
was  introduced  by  men,  and  among  men — 
whether  Jews  or  Gentiles, — who  had 


*  See  Essay  I.,  1st  Series:  "  On  the  Peculiar- 
ities," &c.  And  also  Discourse  "  On  National 
Blessings." 


ALTAR,  PRIEST,  OR  TEMPLE. 


35 


never  heard  of  or  conceived  such  a  thing 
as  a  religion  without  a  Sacrificing  Priest, 
without  Altars  for  Sacrifice, — without 
Sacrifices  themselves, — without  either  a 
Temple,  or  at  least  some  High  Place, 
Grove,  or  other  sacred  spot  answering  to 
a  Temple; — some  place,  that  is,  in  which 
the  Deity  worshipped  was  supposed  more 
especially  to  dwell.* 

The  Apostles  preached,  for  the  first 
time — the  first  both  to  Jew  and  Gentile — 
a  religion  quite  opposite  in  all  these  re- 
spects to  all  that  had  ever  been  heard  of 
before : — a  religion  without  any  Sacrifice 
but  that  offered  up  by  its  Founder  in  his 
own  person; — without  any  sacrificing 
Priest  (Hiereus)f  except  Him,  the  great 
and  true  High  Priest,J  and  consequently 
with  no  Priest  (in  that  sense)  on  Earth; 
except  so  far  as  every  one  of  the  worship- 
pers was  required  to  present  himself  as  a 
"  living  Sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  to 
God;"§  and  a  religion  without  any  Tem- 
ple, except  the  collected  Congregation  of 
the  Worshippers  themselves. || 

Let  any  one  but  contemplate  the  striking 
contrast  between  the  confined — the  local 
character — of  the  Mosaic  system,  and  the 
character  of  boundless  extension  stamped 
on  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  "  In  the  place 
which  the  Lord  shall  choose"  (says  Mo- 
ses** "  to  set  his  Name  therein,  there  shalt 
thou  offer  thy  Sacrifices."  "The  hour 
cometh"  (says  Jesusff)  "  when  men  shall 
neither  on  this  mountain,  nor  yet  at  Je- 
rusalem, worship  the  Father;" 

"  wheresoever  two  or  three  are  gathered 
together  in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the 
midst  of  them."JJ  "  In  his  Temple"  (says 
the  Psalmist  ;§§  i.  e.  in  his  temple  at  Je- 
rusalem) udoth  every  one  speak  of  his 

glory:" "there  will  1"  (Jehovah) 

"dwell,  for  I  have  a  delight  therein:" 
w  Ye  are  the  Temple?"*  (says  the  Apostle 
Paul)  "  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  dwelleth 
in  you."!! It 

Now  all  this  is  deserving  of  attentive 


*  Hence  the  name  of  N*cc  from  v&tav,  "to 
dwell."  See  Hinds'  «  Three  Temples." 

f  See  Discourse  "  On  the  Christian  Priesthood," 
appended  to  Bampton  Lectures. 

t  Hebrews,  ch.  iv. 

§  Rom.  xii.  This  offering  the  Apostle  calls 
QUTIX.V  £U>TXV,  "  a  living  Sacrifice,"  as  distinguished 
from  the  slain  animals  offered  up  in  other  reli- 
gions ;  and  also  AC>-HC»  xaT/>s»*,  "  a  reasonable  (i.  c. 
rational)  service,"  as  opposed  to  the  irrational 
animals  slam  on  the  altars. 

||  I  have  treated  of  this  point  in  one  of  a  volume 
of  Discourses  delivered  in  Dublin. 

**  Deut.  xii.     j-f  John  iv.     $$  Matt,  xviii. 

§§  Ps.  xxix.      ill  1  Cor.  iii. 


reflection,  both  as  important  in  reference 
to  a  right  knowledge  of  the  true  character 
of  the  religion  of  the  Gospel,  and  also  as 
furnishing  a  strong  internal  evidence  as  to 
its  origin.  For  not  only  is  it  inconceiv- 
able that  any  impostor  or  enthusiast  would 
have  ever  devised  or  dreamed  of  any  thing 
both  so  strange,  and  so  unacceptable,  as 
must  have  seemed,  in  those  days,  a  reli- 
gion without  Priest,  Altar,  Sacrifice,  or 
Temple,  (in  the  sense  in  which  men  had 
always  been  accustomed  to  them;)  but  also 
it  is  no  less  incredible  that  any  persons, 
unaided  by  miraculous  powers,  should 
have  succeeded — as  the  Apostles  did — in 
propagating  such  a  religion. 

But  what  is  most  to  our  present  pur- 
pose to  remark  is,  that  the  Sacred  Writers 
did  not  omit  the  mention  of  these  things, 
and  leave  it  to  the  discretion  of  each 
Church  to  introduce  them  or  not;  but 
they  plainly  appear  to  have  distinctly  ex- 
cluded them.  It  is  not  that  they  made 
little  or  no  mention  of  Temples,  Sacrifices, 
and  sacrificing  Priests ;  they  mention  them 
and  allude  to  them,  perpetually;  as  exist- 
ing, in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  terms, 
among  the  Jews,  and  also  among  the  Pa- 
gans; and  again,  they  also  perpetually 
mention  and  allude  to  them  in  reference  to 
the  religion  of  the  Gospel,  invariably,  and 
manifestly,  in  a  different  sense.  Jesus 
Christ,  as  the  Christian  Priest,  and  Chris- 
tian Sacrifice, — Christians  themselves  as 
"living  Sacrifices," — the  sacrifice  of  bene- 
ficence to  the  Poor,* — the  Temple  com- 
posed of  the  Christian  Worshippers  them- 
selves ;  who  are  exhorted  to  "build  up" 
(or  edify,  ofcoJo/usiV)  one  another,  as  "  liv- 
ing stones"|  °f  tne  Temple  of  the  Holy 
Ghost; — all  these  are  spoken  of  and  al- 
luded to  continually;  while,  in  the  primary 
and  customary  sense,  the  samo  terms  are 
perpetually  used  by  the  same  writers,  in 
reference  to  the  Jewish  and  to  the  Pagan 
religions,  and  never  to  the  Christian. 

I  cannot  well  conceive  any  proof  more 
complete  than  is  here  afforded,  that  Christ 
and  his  Apostles  intended  distinctly  to  ex- 
clude and  forbid,  as  inconsistent  with  his 
religion,  those  things  which  I  have  been 
speaking  of.  It  being  the  natural  and  in- 
herent office  of  any  Community  to  make 
by-laws  for  its  own  regulation,  where  not, 
restricted  by  some  higher  Authority,  these 
points  are  precisely  those  which  come 
under  that  restriction ;  being  distinctly  ex- 

*  "  To  do  good  and  to  distribute,  forget  not,  for 
with  such  sacrifices,  (&u<ri&K,)  God  is  well  pleased." 
f  1  Peter  ii.  5,  &c. 


36 


OF  THE  CHURCH  UNIVERSAL. 


eluded  by  the  Founder  and  Supreme  Go- 
vernor of  the  Universal  Church,  is  incon- 
sistent with  the  character  of  his  religion. 

It  is  not  a  little  remarkable,  therefore, 
— though  in  other  matters  also  experience 
shows  the  liability  of  men  to  maintain  at 
once  opposite  errors, — that  the  very  per- 
sons who  are  for  restricting  within  the 
narrowest  limits, — or  rather,  indeed,  an- 
nulling altogether, — the  natural  right  of  a 
Community  to  make  and  alter  by-laws  in 
matters  not  determined  by  a  superior  au- 
thority, and  who  deny  that  any  Church 
is  at  liberty  to  depart,  even  in  matters  left 
wholly  undecided  in  Scripture,  from  the 
supposed, — or  even  conjectured — practice 
of  the  Apostles,  these  very  persons  are 
found  advocating  the  introduction  into 
Christianity  of  practices  and  institutions 
not  only  unauthorized,  but  plainly  ex- 
cluded, by  its  inspired  promulgators ; — 
such  as  Sacrifices  and  sacrificing  Priests ; 
thus,  at  once,  denying  the  rights  which  do 
belong  to  a  Christian  Community,  and  as- 
serting those  which  do  not;  at  once  fet- 
tering the  Church  by  a  supposed  obliga- 
tion to  conform  strictly  to  some  supposed 
precedents  of  antiquity,  and  boldly  cast- 
ing off  the  obligation  to  adhere  to  the  j 
plainest  injunctions  of  God's  written  word. ! 
"  Full  well  do  ye  reject  the  command- 
ment  of  God,  that  ye  may  keep  your  own  j 
tradition.4" 

§  15.   Among  the  things  excluded  from  j 
the  Christian  system,  we  are  fully  author-  I 
ized  to  include  all  subjection  of  the  Chris-  | 
tian  World,  permanently,  and  from  gene-  ' 
ration  to  generation,  to  some  one  Spiritual  j 
Ruler  (whether  an   individual  man  or  a  ! 
Church)  the  delegate,  representative  and 
vicegerent  of  Christ;    whose    authority! 
should  be  binding  on  the  conscience  of 
all,  and  decisive  on  every  point  of  faith. 
Jesus  Himself,  who  told  his  Disciples  that 
it   was    "  expedient   for    them    that   He  j 
should  go  away,  that  He  might  send  them 
another   Comforter,    who   should    abide 
with  them  for  ever,"  could  not  possibly 
have  failed,  had  such  been  his  design,  to 
refer  them  to  the  man,  or  Body  of  men, 
who  should,  in  perpetual  succession,  be 
the  depository  of  this  divine  consolation  | 
and    supremacy.     And   it  is  wholly  in- 
credible that  He  Himself  should  be  per- 
petually spoken  of  and  alluded  to  as  the 
Head  of  his  Church,  without  any  refer- 
ence to  any  supreme  Head  on  Earth,  as 
fully  representing  Him  and  bearing  uni- 
versal rule  in  his  name, — whether  Peter 

*  Mark  vii.  9. 


or  any  other  Apostle,  or  any  successor  of 
one  of  these, — this,  I  say,  is  utterly  in- 
credible, supposing  the  Apostles  or  their 
Master  had  really  designed  that  there 
should  be  for  the  universal  Church  any 
institution  answering  to  the  oracle  of 
God  under  the  Old  Dispensation,  at  the 
Tabernacle  or  the  Temple. 

The  Apostle  Paul,  in  speaking  of 
miracles  as  "  the  signs  of  an  Apostle," 
evidently  implies  that  no  one  NOT  pos- 
sessing such  miraculous  gifts  as  his,* 
much  less,  without  possessing  any  at  all, 
— could  be  entitled  to  be  regarded  as  even 
on  a  level  with  the  Apostles  ;  yet  he  does 
not,  by  virtue  of  that  his  high  office, 
claim  for  himself,  or  allow  to  Peter  or 
any  other,  supreme  rule  over  all  the 
Churches.f  And  while  he  claims  and 
exercises  the  right  to  decide  authoritative- 
ly on  points  of  faith  and  of  practice  on 
which  he  had  received  express  revelations, 
he  does  not  leave  his  converts  any  in- 
junction to  apply,  hereafter,  when  he 
shall  be  removed  from  them,  to  the 
Bishop,  or  Rulers  of  any  other  Church, 
for  such  decisions ;  or  to  any  kind  of 
permanent  living  Oracle  to  dictate  to  all 
Christians  in  all  Ages.  Nor  does  he 
even  ever  hint  at  any  subjection  of  one 
Church  to  another,  singly,  or  to  any  num- 
ber of  others  collectively ; — to  that  of 
Jerusalem,  for  instance,  or  of  Rome ;  or 
to  any  kind  of  general  Council. 

It  appears  plainly  from  the  sacred  nar- 
rative, that  though  the  many  Churches 
which  the  Apostles  founded  were  branches 
of  one  Spiritual  Brotherhood,  of  which 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Heavenly 
Head, — though  there  was  "  one  Lord,  one 
Faith,  one  Baptism,"  for  all  of  them,  yet 
they  were  each  a  distinct,  independent 
community  on  Earth,  united  by  the  com- 
mon principles  on  which  they  were  found- 
ed, and  by  their  mutual  agreement,  affec- 
tion and  respect ;  but  not  having  any  one 
recognized  Head  on  Earth,  or  acknowledg- 
ing any  sovereignty  of  one  of  these  So- 
cieties over  others.^ 

And  as  for — so-called — General  Coun- 
cils, we  find  not  even  any  mention  of 
them,  or  allusion  to  any  such  expedient. 
The  pretended  first  Council1,  at  Jerusalem, 


*  1  Cor.  xiv.  18.  f  Gal.  ii.  7—9. 

J  Generally  speaking,  the  Apostles  appear  to 
have  established  a  distinct  Church  in  each  con- 
siderable city ;  so  that  there  were  several  even  in 
a  single  Province ;  as  for  instance,  in  Macedonia, 
those  of  Philippi,  Thessalonica,  Beraea,  Araphi- 
polis,  &c. ;  and  the  like  in  the  Province  of  Achaia 
and  elsewhere.. 


ORDINATION  OF  SAUL  AND  BARNABAS 


does  seem  to  me*  a  most  extraordinary 
chimera,  without  any  warrant  whatever 
m  Sacred  History.  We  find  in  the 
arrative,  that  certain  persons,  coming 
om  Jerusalem  to  Antioch,  endeavoured 
impose  on  the  Gentile  converts  the 
yoke  of  the  Mosaic  Law ;  pretending — 
as  appears  plainly  from  the  contextf — to 
have  the  sanction  of  the  Apostles  for  this. 
Nothing  could  be  more  natural  than  the 
step  which  was  thereupon  taken — to  send 
a  deputation  to  Jerusalem,  to  inquire 
whether  these  pretensions  were  well 
founded.  The  Apostles,  in  the  midst  of 
an  Assembly  of  the  Elders  (or  Clergy,  as 
they  would  now  be  called)  of  Jerusalem, 
decided  that  no  such  burden  ought  to  be 
imposed,  and  that  their  pretended  sanction 
had  not  been  given.  The  Church  at 
Jerusalem,  even  independently  of  the 
Apostles,  had  of  course  power  to  decide 
this  last  point ;  ?'.  e.  to  declare  the  fact 
whether  they  had  or  had  not  given  the 
pretended  sanction :  and  the  Apostles, 
confessedly,  had  plenary  power  to  declare 
the  will  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  And  the 
deputation,  accordingly,  retired  satisfied. ' 
There  is  no  hint,  throughout,  of  any 
summons  to  the  several  Churches  in 
Judea  and  Galilee,  in  Samaria,  Cyprus, 
Cyrene,  Sec.,  to  send  deputations,  as  to  a 
general  Council ;  nor  any  assumption  of 
a  right  in  the  Church  of  Jerusalem,  as 
such,  to  govern  the  rest,  or  to  decide  on 
points  of  faith. 

It  is  worth  remarking  also,  that,  as  if 
on  purpose  to  guard  against  the  assump- 
tion, which  might,  not  unnaturally,  have 
taken  place,  of  some  supremacy — such  as 
no  Church  was  designed  to  enjoy, — on 
the  part  of  Jerusalem,  the  fountain-head 
of  the  religion,  it  was  by  the  special  ap- 
pointment of  the  Holy  Spirit  that  Saul 
and  Barnabas  were  ordained  to  the  very 
highest  office,  the  Apostleship,  not  by  the 
hands  of  the  other  Apostles,  or  of  any  per- 
son at  Jerusalem,  but  by  the  Elders  of\ 
*flntioch.  This  would  have  been  the  less 
remarkable  had  no  human  ordination  at  j 
all  taken  place,  but  merely  a  special  im- 
mediate appointment  of  them  by  divine 
revelation.  But  the  command  given  was, 
"  separate  me  ....  let  them  go."J  Some 
reason  for  such  a  procedure  there  must ' 
have  been ;  and  it  does  seem  probable  ! 
that  it  was  designed  for  the  very  purpose 
(among  others)  of  impressing  on  men's 


*  See  Burnet  on  Article  21.     f  Acts.  xv.  24. 
t  Acts  xiii.  2,  3. 


minds   the  independence  and  equality  of 
the  several  Churches  on  Earth. 

On  the  whole,  then,  considering  in  ad- 
dition to  all  these  circumstances,  the 
number  and  the  variety  of  the  Epistles  of 
Paul,  (to  say  nothing  of  those  of  the 
other  Apostles.)  and  the  deep  anxiety  he 
manifests  for  the  continuance  of  his 
converts  in  the  right  faith,  and  his 
earnest  warnings  of  them*  against  the 
dangers  to  their  faith,  which  he  foresaw ; 
and  considering  also  the  incalculable  im- 
portance of  such  an  institution  (supposing 
it  to  exist)  as  a  permanent  living  Oracle 
and  supreme  Ruler  of  the  Church,  on 
Earth  ;  and  the  necessity  of  pointing  it 
out  so  clearly  that  no  one  could  possibly, 
except  through  wilful  blindness  and  ob- 
stinacy, be  in  any  doubt  as  to  the  place 
and  persons  whom  the  Lord  should  have 
thus  "  chosen  to  cause  his  name  to  dwell" 
therein — especially,  as  a  plain  reference 
to  this  infallible  judge,  guide,  and  go- 
vernor, would  have  been  so  obvious, 
easy,  short,  and  decisive  a  mode  of  guard- 
ing against  the  doubts,  errors,  and  dissen- 
sions which  he  so  anxiously  appre- 
hended ;  considering,  I  say,  all  this,  it 
does  seem  to  me  a  perfect  moral  impos- 
sibility, that  Paul  and  the  other  sacred 
writers  should  have  written,  as  they  have 
done,  without  any  mention  or  allusion  to 
any  thing  of  the  kind,  if  it  had  been  a 
part  (and  it  must  have  been  a  most  essen- 
tial part,  if  it  were  any)  of  the  Christian 
System.  They  do  not  merely -omit  all 
reference  to  any  supreme  and  infallible 
Head  and  Oracle  of  the  Universal  Church, 
— to  any  Man  or  Body  as  the  representa- 
tive and  Vicegerent  of  Christ,  but  they 
omit  it  in  such  a  manner,  and  under  such 
circumstances,  as  plainly  to  amount  to  an 
exclusion. 

It  may  be  added  that  the  circumstance 
of  our  Lord's  having  deferred  the  Com- 
mencement of  his  Church  till  after  his 
own  departure  in  bodily  person  from  the 
Earth,  seems  to  have  been  designed  as  a 
further  safeguard  against  the  motion  I 
have  been  alluding  to.  Had  He  publicly 
presided  in  bodily  person  subsequently  to 
the  completion  of  the  Redemption  by  his 
death,  over  a  Church  in  Jerusalem  or 
elsewhere,  there  would  have  been  more 
plausibility  in  the  claim  to  supremacy 
which  might  have  been  set  up  and  ad- 
mitted, on  behalf  of  that  Church,  and  of 
his  own  successors  in  the  Government  of 
it.  His  previously  withdrawing,  made  it 

*  Acts  xx. 
4 


38 


CHURCH  ORDINANCES  BINDING 


the  more  easily  to  be  understood  that  He 
was  Jo  remain  the  spiritual  Head  in 
Heaven,  of  the  spiritual  Church  uni- 
versal ;  and  consequently  of  all  particular 
Churches,  equally,  in  all  parts  of  the 
world. 

§  16.  This  therefore,  and  the  other 
points  just  mentioned,  must  be  regarded 
as  negatively  characteristic  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  no  less  than  it  is  positively 
characterized  by  those  truths  and  those 
enactments  which  the  inspired  Writers 
lay  down  as  essential.  Their  prohibi- 
tions in  the  one  case  are  as  plain  as  their 
injunctions  in  the  other. 

There  is  not  indeed  any  systematic 
enumeration  of  the  several  points  that  are 
excluded  as  inconsistent  with  the  cha- 
racter of  the  religion ;  answering  to  the 
prohibition  of  Idolatry  in  the  Decalogue, 
the  enumeration  of  forbidden  meats, 
and  other  such  enactments  of  the  Leviti- 
cal  Law.  But  the  same  may  be  said  no 
less  of  the  affirmative  directions  also  that 
are  to  be  found  in  the  New  Testament. 
The  fundamental  doctrines  and  the  great 
moral  principles  of  the  Gospel  are  there 
taught, — for  wise  reasons  no  doubt,  and 
which  I  think  we  may  in  part  perceive,* 
not  in  creeds  or  other  regular  formularies, 
but  incidentally,  irregularly,  and  often  by 
oblique  allusions ;  less  striking  indeed  at 
first  sight  than  distinct  enunciations  and 
enactments,  but  often  even  the  more  de- 
cisive and  satisfactory  from  that  very  cir- 
cumstance ;  because  the  Apostles  fre- 
quently allude  to  some  truth  as  not  only 
essential,  but  indisputably  admitted,  and 
familiarly  known  to  be  essential  by  those 
they  were  addressing/]" 

On  the  whole  then,  I  cannot  but  think 
an  attentive  and  candid  inquirer,  who 
brings  to  the  study  of  Scripture  no  extra- 
ordinary learning  or  acuteness,  but  an 
unprejudiced  and  docile  mind,  may  ascer- 
tain with  reasonable  certainty,  that  there 
are  points — and  what  those  points  are — 
which  are  insisted  on  by  our  sacred 
writers  as  essential ;  and  again,  which 
are  excluded  as  inconsistent  with  the  reli- 
gion they  taught;  and  again  that  there 
are  many  other  points, — some  of  them 
such  that  the  Apostles  cannot  but  have 
practically  decided  them  in  one  way  or 
another  on  particular  occasions,  (such 
as  the  mode  of  administering  the  Eu- 
charist, and  many  others)  respecting 
which  they  have  not  recorded  their  de- 


*  See  Appendix,  Note  (G.) 

t  See  Rhetoric,  6th  Edition,  Part  I.  ch.  2,  §  4. 


cisions,  or  made  any  general  enactment 
to  be  observed  in  all  Ages  and  Countries. 

And  the  inference  seems  to  be  inevita- 
ble, that  they  purposely  left  these  points 
to  be  decided  in  each  Age  and  Country 
according  to  the  discretion  of  the  several 
Churches,  by  a  careful  application  of  the 
principles  laid  down  by  Christ  and  his 
Apostles. 

§  17.  At  variance  with  what  has  been 
now  said,  and  also  at  variance  with  each 
other,  are  some  opinions  which  are  to  be 
found  among  different  classes  of  Chris- 
tians, in  these,  as  well  as  in  former  times. 
The  opposite  errors  (as  they  appear  to 
me  to  be)  of  those  opinions  may  in  many 
instances  be  traced,  I  conceive,  in  great 
measure,  to  the  same  cause ;  to  the  ne- 
glect, namely,  of  the  distinction — obvious 
as  it  is  to  any  tolerably  attentive  reader — 
which  has  been  just  noticed,  between 
those  things,  on  the  one  hand,  which  are 
either  plainly  declared  and  strictly  en- 
joined, or  distinctly  excluded,  by  the  Sa- 
cred Writers,  and  on  the  other  hand,  those 
on  which  they  give  no  distinct  decision, 
injunction,  or  prohibition ;  and  which  I 
have  thence  concluded  they  meant  to 
place  under  the  j  urisdiction  of  each  Church. 
To  the  neglect  of  this  distinction,  and 
again,  to  a  want  of  due  consideration  of  the 
character,  offices,  and  rights  of  a  Christian 
Community,  may  be  attributed,  in  a  great 
degree,  the  prevalence  of  errors  the  most 
opposite  to  each  other. 

There  are  persons,  it  is  well  known, 
who  from  not  finding  in  Scripture  precise 
directions,  and  strict  commands,  as  to  the 
constitution  and  regulation  of  a  Christian 
Church, — the  several  Orders  of  Christian 
Ministers, — the  distinct  functions  of  each, 
— and  other  such  details,  have  adopted  the 
conclusion,  or  at  least  seem  to  lean,  more 
or  less,  towards  the  conclusion., — that  it 
is  a  matter  entirely  left  to  each  individual's 
fancy  or  convenience  to  join  one  Christian 
Society,  or  another,  or  none  at  all ; — to 
take  upon  himself,  or  confer  on  another, 
the  ministerial  office,  or  to  repudiate  al- 
together any  Christian  Ministry  whatever : 
— to  join,  or  withdraw  from,  any  or  every 
religious  Assembly  for  joint  Christian 
worship,  according  to  the  suggestion  of 
his  individual  taste  : — in  short,  (for  this  is 
what  it  really  amounts  to  when  plainly 
stated)  to  proceed  as  if  the  sanction  ma- 
nifestly given  by  our  Lord  and  his  Apos- 
tles to  the  establishment  of  Christian 
Communities,  and  consequently,  to  all  the 
privileges  and  powers  implied  in  the  very 
nature  of  a  Community,  and  also  the  in- 


THOUGH  NOT  SANCTIONED  IN  SCRIPTURE. 


culcation  in  Scripture  of  the  principles  on 
which  Christian  Churches  are  to  be  con- 
ducted, were  all  to  go  for  nothing,  unless 
the  application  of  these  principles  to  each 
particular  point  of  the  details  of  Church 
government,  can  also  be  found  no  less 
plainly  laid  down  in  Scripture. 

Now  though  I  would  not  be  understood 
as  insinuating  any  thing  against  the  actual 
morality  of  life  of  those  who  take  such 
views,  I  cannot  but  remark,  that  their 
mode  of  reasoning  does  seem  to  me  per- 
fectly analogous  to  that  of  men  who  should 
set  at  nought  all  the  moral  principles  of 
the  Gospel,  and  account  nothing  a  sin  that 
is  not  expressly  particularized  as  forbid- 
den,— nothing  a  duty,  that  is  not,  in  so 
many  words,  enjoined.  Persons  who  en- 
tertain such  lax  notions  as  I  have  been  al- 
luding to,  respecting  Church  enactments, 
should  be  exhorted  to  reflect  carefully  on 
the  obvious  and  self-evident,  but  often- 
forgotten  truth — the  oftener  forgotten, 
perhaps,  in  practice,  from  its  being  self- 
evident — that  right  and  duty  are  recipro- 
cal ;  and  consequently  that  since  a  Church 
has  a  right,  (derived,  as  has  been  shown, 
both  from  the  very  nature  of  a  Community, 
and  from  Christ's  sanction)  to  make  re- 
gulations, &c.,  not  at  variance  with  Scrip- 
ture principles,  it  follows  that  compliance 
with  such  regulations  must  be  a  duty  to 
the  individual  members  of  that  Church. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  some  who, 
in  their  abhorrence  and  dread  of  principles 
and  practices  subversive  of  all  good  order, 
and  tending  to  anarchy  and  to  every  kind 
of  extravagance,  have  thought, — or  at 
least  professed  to  think, — that  we  are 
bound  to  seek  for  a  distinct  authoritative 
sanction,  in  the  Scriptures  or  in  some  other 
ancient*  writings, — some  Tradition  in 
short — for  each  separate  point  which  we 
would  maintain.  They  assume  that  what- 
ever doctrines  or  practices,  whatever  in- 
stitutions, whatever  regulations  respecting 
Church  government,  we  can  conclude, 
either  with  certainty,  or  with  any  degree 
of  probability,  to  have  been  either  intro- 


*  By  "  ancient"  some  persons  understand  what 
belongs  to  the  first  three  centuries  of  the  Christian 
era;  some,  the  first  four;  some,  seven;  so  arbitrary 
and  uncertain  is  the  standard  by  which  some  would 
persuade  us  to  try  questions,  on  which  they,  at  the 
same  time,  teach  us  to  believe  our  Christian  Faith 
and  Christian  Hope  are  staked  ! 
«  Scire  velim,  pretium  chartis  quotus  arroget  annus: 

Est  vetus  atque  probus,  centum  q.ui  perficit  annos. 
Quid  1  qui  deperiit  minor  uno  mense  vel  anno, 
Inter  quos  referendus  eritl  veteresne?"  *  *  * 
Horace,  Epist.  I.  b.  2. 


39 

duced  by  the  Apostles,  or  to  have  pre- 
vailed in  their  time,  or  in  the  time  of  their 
immediate  successors,  are  to  be  considered 
as  absolutely  binding  on  all  Christians  for 
ever ; — as  a  model  from  which  no  Church 
is  at  liberty  to  depart.  And  they  make 
our  membership  of  the  Church  of  Christ, 
and  our  hopes  of  the  Gospel  salvation, 
depend  on  an  exact  adherence  to  every 
thing  that  is  proved,  or  believed,  or  even 
suspected,  to  be  an  apostolical  usage  ;  and 
on  our  possessing  what  they  call  Aposto- 
lical Succession  ;  that  is,  on  our  having 
a  Ministry  whose  descent  can  be  traced 
up,  in  an  unbroken  and  undoubted  chain, 
to  the  Apostles  themselves,  through  men 
regularly  ordained  by  them  or  their  suc- 
cessors, according  to  the  exact  forms  ori- 
ginally appointed.  And  all  Christians 
(so  called)  who  do  not  come  under  this 
description,  are  to  be  regarded  either  as 
outcasts  from.  "  the  Household  of  Faith," 
or  at  best  as  in  a  condition  u  analogous 
to  that  of  the  Samaritans  of  old"  who 
worshipped  on  Mount  Gerizim,*  or  as  in 
u  an  intermediate  state  between  Chris- 
tianity and  Heathenism,"  and  as  "left  to 
the  uncovenanted  mercies  of  God." 

§  18.  Those  who  on  such  grounds  de- 
fend the  Institutions  and  Ordinances,  and 
vindicate  the  Apostolical  Character,  of  our 
own  (or  indeed  of  any)  Church — whether 
on  their  own  sincere  conviction,  or  as 
believing  that  such  arguments  are  the  best 
calculated  to  inspire  the  mass  of  mankind 
with  becoming  reverence,  and  to  repress 
the  evil  of  schism, — do  seem  to  me,  in 
proportion  as  they  proceed  on  those  prin- 
ciples, to  be,  in  the  same  degree,  remov- 
ing our  institutions  from  a  foundation  on 
a  rock,  to  place  them  on  sand.  Instead 
of  a  clearly-intelligible,  well-established, 
and  accessible  proof  of  divine  sanction  for 
the  claims  of  our  Church,  they  would 
substitute  one  that  is  not  only  obscure, 
disputable,  and  out  of  the  reach  of  the 
mass  of  mankind,  but  even  self-contra- 
dictory, subversive  of  our  own  and  every 
Church's  claims,  and  leading  to  the  very 
evils  of  doubt,  and  schismatical  division, 
which  it  is  desired  to  guard  against. 

The  Rock  on  which  I  am  persuaded 
our  Reformers  intended,  and  rightly  in- 
tended, to  rest  the  Ordinances  of  our 
Church,  is,  the  warrant  to  be  found  in 
the  Holy  Scriptures  written  by,  or  under 
the  direction  of  those  to  whom  our  Lord 
had  entrusted  the  duty  of  u  teaching  men 
to  observe  all  things  whatsoever  He  had 

*  John  iv. 


40 


FALSE  FOUNDATIONS — FOR  THE  TRUE. 


commanded  them."  For  in  those  Scrip- 
tures we  find  a  divine  sanction  clearly 
given  to  a  regular  Christian  Community,  a 
Church;  which  is,  according  to  the  defini- 
tion in  our  19th  Article,*  "  a  congregation 
(i.  e.  Society  or  Community ;  Ecclesia,)  of 
faithful  men,f  in  the  which  the  pure 
Word  of  God  is  preached,  and  the  Sacra- 
ments duly  administered  according  to 
Christ's  ordinance,  in  all  those  things 
which  of  necessity  are  requisite  to  the 
same."  Now  since,  from  the  very  nature 
of  the  case,  every  Society  must  have  offi- 
cers appointed  in  some  way  or  other,  and 
every  Society  that  is  to  be  permanent,  a 
perpetual  succession  of  Officers,  in  what- 
ever manner  kept  up,  and  must  have  also 
a  power  of  enacting,  abrogating  and  en- 
forcing on  its  own  members,  such  regula- 
tions or  by-laws  as  are  not  opposed  to 
some  higher  authority,  it  follows  inevi- 
tably (as  I  have  above  observed)  that  any 
one  who  sanctions  a  Society,  gives,  in  so 
doing,  his  sanction  to  those  essentials  of 
a  Society,  its  Government, — its  Officers, 
— its  Regulations.  Accordingly,  even  if 
our  Lord  had  not  expressly  said  any  thing 
about  "  binding  and  loosing,"  still  the 
very  circumstance  of  his  sanctioning  a 
Christian  Community  would  necessarily 
have  implied  his  sanction  of  the  Institu- 
tions, Ministers,  and  Government  of  a 
Christian  Church,  so  long  as  nothing  is 
introduced  at  variance  with  the  positive 
enactments,  and  the  fundamental  princi- 
ples laid  down  by  Himself  and  his 
Apostles. 

§  19.  This,  which  I  have  called  a  foun- 
dation on  a  rock,  is  evidently  that  on 
which  (as  has  been  just  observed)  our 
Reformers  designed  to  place  our  Church. 


*  In  our  Article  as  it  stands  in  the  English,  it 
is  "The  visible  Church  of  Christ  is,"  &c.;  but 
there  can  be  no  doubt,  I  think,  that  the  more  cor- 
rect version  from  the  Latin  (the  Latin  Articles 
appear  to  have  been  the  original,  and  the  English 
a  translation — in  some  few  places,  a  careless  trans- 
lation— from   the  Latin)    would   have  been  "  A 
visible    Church,"    &c.       The   Latin    "Ecclesia 
Christi  visibilis"  would  indeed  answer  to  either 
phrase,  the  want  of  an  article  definite  or  indefinite 
in  that  language  rendering  it  liable  to  such  ambi-  j 
guity.     But  the  context  plainly  shows  that  the  i 
writer  is  not  speaking  of  the  Universal  Church,  i 
but  of  particular  Churches,  such  as  the  "  Churches  | 
of  Jerusalem,  Alexandria  and  Rome."    The  Eng-  \ 
lish  translator  probably  either  erred  from  moment-  j 
ary  inattention,  or  (more  likely)   understood  by 
"  Ecclesia,"  and  by  "  the  Church,"  the  particular 
Church  whose  Articles   were  before   him, — the 
Church  of  England. 

f  J.  e.  believers  in  Christ; — fideles; — m^nt. 


While  they  strongly  deny  to  any 
Church  the  power  to  »l  ordain  any  thing 
contrary  to  God's  Word,"  or  to  require  as 
essential  to  salvation,  belief  in  any  thing 
not  resting  on  scriptural  authority,  they 
claim  the  power  for  each  Church  of  or- 
daining and  altering  "rites  and  ceremo- 
nies," "so  that  all  things  be  done  to  edi- 
fying," and  nothing  "  contrary  to  God's 
Word."  They  claim  on  that  ground  for 
our  own  Church  a  recognition  of  that 
power  in  respect  of  the  Forms  of  Public 
Service  ;  on  the  ground,  that  is,  (Art.  36) 
that  these  "  contain  nothing  that  is  in  it- 
self superstitious  and  ungodly." 

And  they  rest  the  claims  of  Ministers, 
not  on  some  supposed  sacramental  virtue 
transmitted  from  hand  to  hand  in  un- 
broken succession  from  the  Apostles,  in 
a  chain,  of  which  if  any  one  link  be  even 
doubtful,  a  distressing  uncertainty  is 
thrown  over  all  Christian  Ordinances, 
Sacraments,  and  Church  privileges  for 
ever;  but,  on  the  fact  of  those  Ministers 
being  the  regularly  appointed  officers  of  a 
regular  Christian  Community.  "It  is  not 
lawful  (says  the  23d  Article)  for  any  man 
to  take  upon  him  the  office  of  public 
preaching,  or  ministering  the  sacraments 
in  the  congregation,  before  he  be  law- 
fully called  and  sent  to  execute  the  same. 
— And  those  we  ought  to  judge  lawfully 
called  and  sent,  which  be  chosen  and 
called  to  this  work  by  men  who  have 
public  authority  given  unto  them  in  the 
Congregation,  to  call  and  send  Ministers 
into  the  Lord's  Vineyard."* 

Those  who  are  not  satisfied  with  the 
foundation  thus  laid, — and  which,  as  \ 
have  endeavoured  to  show,  is  the  very 
foundation  which  Christ  and  his  Apos- 
tles have  prepared  for  us, — who  seek  to 
take  higher  ground,  as  the  phrase  is,  and 
maintain  what  are  called  according  to  the 
modern  fashion  "  Church  principles,"  or 
"  Church-of-England  principles,"  are  in 
fact  subverting  the  principles  both  of  our 
own  Church  in  particular,  and  of  every 
Christian  Church  that  claims  the  inhe- 
rent rights  belonging  to  a  Community, 
and  confirmed  by  the  sanction  of  God's 
Word  as  contained  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures. It  is  advancing,  but  not  in  the 
right  road, — it  is  advancing  not  in  sound 
learning  but  error, — not  in  faith,  but  in 
superstitious  credulity,  to  seek  for  some 
higher  and  better  ground  on  which  to 
rest  our  doctrines  and  institutions  than 


See  §  23. 


ENGLISH  REFORMERS  CHOSE  THE  TRUE  BASIS. 


41 


that  on  which  they  were  placed  by  "the 
Author  and  Finisher  of  our  Faith."* 

On  this  point  I  will  take  the  liberty  of! 
inserting  an  extract  from  a  Charge  (not ; 
published)  which  was  delivered  a  year 
ago  ;   because  I   wish  to  point  out,  that 
the  views  I  am  taking,  whether  sound  or  , 
unsound — and  this   1  sincerely  wish  to  ! 
be  decided  according  to  the  reasons  ad-  ' 
duced — are  at  least  not  hastily  but  deli-  | 
berately  adopted,  and  have  undergone  no 
change  in  that  interval. 

"  When  I  speak  of  unceasing  progress, 
— of  continual  improvement  in  all  that 
pertains  to  the  Christian  life, — as  what 
we  ought  to  aim  at,  both  in  ourselves, 
and  in  those  with  whom  we  have  influ- 
ence, it  may  perhaps  be  proper  to  add, 
that  this  does  not  imply  any  attempt 4  to 
be  wise  above  that  which  is  written,' — 
any  expectation  of  a  new  and  additional  | 
revelation,  or  of  the  discovery  of  new  j 
doctrines, — any  pretensions  to  inspira- 
tion,— or  hopes  of  a  fresh  outpouring  of 
that,  or  of  any  other  miraculous  gifts. 
It  seemed  needful  to  make  this  remark, 
because  such  hopes  have  been  cherished, 
— such  pretensions  put  forth, — from  time 
to  time,  in  various  ages  of  the  Church, 
and  not  least  in  the  present. 

"  I  have  coupled  together  these  two 
things, — miraculous  gifts,  and  a  new  reve- 
lation, because  I  conceive  them  to  be  in 
reality  inseparable.  Miracles  are  the  only 
sufficient  credentials  on  which  any  one 
can  reasonably  demand  assent  to  doc- 
trines not  clearly  revealed  (to  the  under- 

*  It  is  curious  to  observe  how  very  common  it  \ 
is  for  any  Sect  or  Party  to  assume  a  title  indicative 
of  the  very  excellence  in  which  they  are  espe- 
cially deficient,  or  strongly  condemnatory  of  the 
very  errors  with  which  they  are  especially  charge- 
able. Thus,  those  who  from  time  to  time  have 
designated  themselves  "  Gnostics,"  i.  e.  persons 
"  knowing"  the  Gospel,  in  a  far  superior  degree 
to  other  professed  Christians, — have  been  gene- 
rally remarkable  for  their  want  of  knowledge  of 
the  very  first  rudiments  of  evangelical  truth.  The 
phrase  "  Catholic"  religion,  (L  e.  "  Universal")  is 
the  most  commonly  in  the  mouths  of  those  who 
are  the  most  limited  and  exclusive  in  their  views, 
and  who  seek  to  shut  out  the  largest  number  of 
Christian  communities  fiom  the  Gospel  covenant. 
"  Schism,"  again,  is  by  none  more  loudly  repro- 
bated than  by  those  who  are  not  only  the  imme- 
diate authors  of  schism,  but  the  advocates  of  prin- 
ciples tending  to  generate  and  perpetuate  schisms 
without  end.  And  "  Church-principles," — 
"High-church  principles," — "  Church-of-England 
principles," — are  the  favourite  terms  of  those  who 
go  the  furthest  in  subverting  all  these. 

Obvious  as  this  fallacy  is,  there  is  none  more 
commonly  successful  in  throwing  men  off  their 
guard. 


standing  of  his  hearers)  in  Scripture. 
The  promulgation  of  new  articles  of 
faith,  or  of  articles  which,  though  not 
avowedly  new,  are  yet  not  obviously 
contained  in  Scripture,  is  most  presump- 
tuous, unless  so  authenticated.  And 
again,  pretensions  to  miraculous  powers 
such  as  those  of  Moses  and  the  Pro- 
phets,— of  Christ  and  the  Apostles,  seem 
to  imply  some  such  object  to  be  fur- 
thered by  them.  At  any  rate,  those  who 
shall  have  thus  established  their  claim 
to  be  considered  as  messengers  from 
Heaven,  may  evidently  demand  assent  to 
whatever  they  may  in  that  character 
promulgate.  If  any  persons  therefore 
pretend  to  such  a  mark  of  divine  commis- 
sion as  the  gift  of  tongues,  or  any  such 
power,  no  one  who  admits  their  preten- 
sions can  consistently  withhold  assent 
from  any  thing  they  may  declare  them- 
selves commissioned  to  teach. 

"  And,  again,  if  any  persons  claim  for 
any  traditions  of  the  Church,  an  author- 
ity, either  paramount  to  Scripture,  or 
equal  to  Scripture,  or  concurrent  with 
it, — or,  which  comes  to  the  very  same 
thing,  decisive  as  to  the  interpretation  of 
Scripture* — taking  on  themselves  to  de- 
cide what  is  c  the  Church,'  and  what  tra- 
dition is  to  be  thus  received, — these  per- 
sons are  plainly  called  on  to  establish  by 
miraculous  evidence  the  claims  they 
advance.  And  if  they  make  their  appeal 
not  to  miracles  wrought  by  themselves, 
but  to  those  which  originally  formed  the 
evidence  of  the  Gospel,  they  are  bound 
to  show  by  some  decisive  proof,  that 
that  evidence  can  fairly  be  brought  to 
bear  upon  and  authenticate  their  preten- 
sion ; — that  they  are,  by  Christ's  decree, 
the  rightful  depositaries  of  the  power 
they  claim. 

"But  to  such  as  reject  and  protest 
against  all  such  groundless  claims,  an  in- 
terminable field  is  still  open  for  the  appli- 
cation of  all  the  faculties,  intellectual  and 
moral,  with  which  God  has  endowed  us, 
for  the  fuller  understanding  and  develope* 
ment  of  the  truths  revealed  in  his  written 
Word.  To  learn  and  to  teach  what  is 
there  to  be  found ; — to  develope  more  and 
more  fully  to  your  own  minds  and  to  those 
of  your  hearers,  what  the  Evangelists  and 
Apostles  have  conveyed  to  us,  will  be 
enough  and  more  than  enough  to  occupy 
even  a  longer  life  than  any  of  us  can  ex- 
pect. 

"The  Mosaic  Dispensation   was   the 


*  See  Appendix,  Note  (H.) 

4* 


ENGLISH  REFORMERS  CHOSE  THE  TRUE  BASIS. 


dawn  of  '  the  day-spring  from  on  high,' 
not  yet  arrived, — of  a  Sun  only  about  to 
rise.  It  was  a  Revelation  in  itself  imper- 
fect. The  Sun  of  the  Gospel  arose ;  c  the 
true  Light,  which  lighteth  every  one  that 
cometh  into  the  world'  appeared :  but  it 
was  partially  hidden,  and  is  so,  still,  by  a 
veil  of  clouds  ; — by  prejudices  of  various 
kinds, — by  the  passions,  and  infirmities, 
and  ignorance  of  mankind.  We  may  ad- 
vance, arid  we  may  lead  others  to  advance, 
indefinitely,  in  the  full  developement  of 
Gospel  truth, — of  the  real  character  and 
meaning  and  design  of  Christ's  religion ; 
not  by  seeking  to  superadd  something  to 
the  Gospel  revelation ;  but  by  a  more  cor- 
rect and  fuller  comprehension  of  it; — not 
by  increasing,  absolutely,  the  light  of  the 
noonday-sun,  but  by  clearing  away  the 
mists  which  obscure  our  view  of  it.  Chris- 
tianity itself  cannot  be  improved ;  but 
men's  views,  and  estimate,  and  compre- 
hension of  Christianity,  may  be  indefi- 
nitely improved. 

"  Vigilant  discretion  however  is  no  less 
needful  than  zeal  and  perseverance,  if  we 
would  really  advance  in  the  Christian 
course.  The  most  active  and  patient  tra- 
veller, if  he  be  not  also  watchfully  careful 
to  keep  in  the  right  road,  may,  after  hav- 
ing once  diverged  from  it  into  some  other 
track,  be  expending  his  energies  in  going 
further  and  further  astray,  while  he  fancies 
himself  making  progress  in  his  journey. 

u  In  various  ways  is  the  Christian,  and 
not  least,  the  Christian  Minister,  liable  to 
this  kind  of  self-deception.  I  am  not  now, 
you  will  observe,  adverting  chiefly  to  the 
danger  of  mistaking  what  is  absolutely 
false,  for  true,  or  wrong  for  right;  but 
rather  to  that  of  mistaking  the  real  cha- 
racter of  some  description  of  truth  or  of 
valuable  knowledge.  We  have  to  guard 
against  mistake,  for  instance,  as  to  what 
is  or  is  not  a  part  of  the  Christian-Beve- 
lation; — a  truth  belonging  to  the  Gospel, 
and  resting,  properly,  on  divine  authority. 
While  advancing  in  the  attainment  of  what 
may  be  in  itself  very  valuable  and  import- 
ant knowledge,  we  may  be  in  fact  going 
further  and  further  in  error,  if  we  confound 
together  the  inspired  and  the  uninspired, 
— the  sacred  text,  with  the  human  com- 
ment. 

"There  are  persons  (such  as  I  have 
above  alluded  to)  who  in  their  zeal — in 
itself  laudable — to  advance  towards  a  full 
comprehension  of  the  Gospel  revelation, 
have  conceived  that  they  are  to  seek  for 
this  by  diligent  research  into  the  tenets 
and  practices  of  what  is  called  the  Primitive 


1  Church;  i.  e.  the  Christian  world  during 
the  first  three  or  first  four  Ages;  and  some 

|  have  even  gone  so  far  as  to  represent  the 
revelation  of  the  Christian  scheme  con- 
tained in  the  New  Testament  as  a  mere 
imperfect  and  uncompleted  outline,  which 
was  to  be  filled  up  by  the  Church  in  the 
succeeding  three  centuries; — as  a  mere 

!  beginning  of  that  which  the  early  Fathers 
were  empowered  and  commissioned  to 
finish;  though  on  what  grounds  any  kind 
of  authority  is  claimed  for  the  Church 
then,  which  does  not  equally  belong  to  it 
at  this  day,  or  at  any  intermediate  period, 
no  one,  as  far  as  1  know,  has  even  at- 
tempted to  make  out. 

"  Now,  to  learn  what  has  been  said  and 
done  by  eminent  men  in  every  Age  of  the 

|  Church,  is  of  course  interesting  and  valu- 

i  able  to  a  theological  student.     And  a  man 

1  of  modesty  and  candour  will  not  fail  to 
pay  great  attention  to  their  opinions,  in 
whatever  period  they  may  have  lived.  He 
will  also  inquire  with  peculiar  interest  in- 
to the  belief  and  the  practices  of  those 
who  had  been  instructed  by  the  immediate 
disciples  and  other  contemporaries  of  the 
Apostles  themselves.  But  the  mistake  is, 
to  assume,  on  the  ground  of  presumptu- 
ous conjecture  (for  of  proof,  there  is  not 
even  a  shadow)  that  these  men  were  in- 
fallible interpreters  of  the  Apostles,  and 
had  received  from  them  by  tradition  some- 
thing not  contained,  or  not  plainly  set 
forth,  in  their  writings,  but  which  yet 
were  designed  by  those  very  Apostles  as 
a  necessary  portion  of  Christianity. 

"Not  only  are  all  these  assumptions 
utterly  groundless  and  unwarrantable,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  even  if  there  is  any  thing 
which  we  can  be  morally  certain  was  prac- 
tised in  the  time  of  the  Apostles,  and  with 
their  sanction  (as  is  the  case  for  instance 
with  the  Agapa3  or  Love-feasts)  we  must 
yet  consider  it  as  not  designed  by  them  to 
be  of  universal  and  perpetual  obligation, 
where  they  have  not  distinctly  laid  it  down 
as  such  in  their  writings.  By  omitting,  in 
any  case,  thus  to  record  certain  of  their 
practices  or  directions,  they  have  given  us 
as  clear  an  indication  as  we  could  have 
looked  for,  of  their  design  to  leave  these 
to  the  free  choice  and  decision  of  each 
Church  in  each  Age  and  Country.  Arid 
there  seems  every  reason  to  think  that  it 
was  on  purpose  to  avoid  misapprehensions 
of  this  kind,  that  they  did  leave  unrecorded 
so  much  of  what  we  cannot  but  be  sure 
they  must  have  practised,  and  said,  and 
established,  in  the  Churches  under  their 

I  own  immediate  care. 


DESTRUCTIVE  PRINCIPLES. 


43 


"  And  it  should  be  remembered  that 
what  some  persons  consider  as  the  safe 
side  in  respect  of  such  points, — as  the  ex- 
treme of  scrupulous  and  cautious  venera- 
tion— is  in  truth  the  reverse.  A  wise  and 
right-minded  reverence  for  divine  autho- 
rity will  render  us  doubly  scrupulous  of 
reckoning  any  thing  as  a  divine  precept  or 
institution,  without  sufficient  warrant. 
Yet,  at  the  first  glance,  a  readiness  to  be- 
stow religious  veneration,  with  or  without 
good  grounds  (which  is  the  very  character- 
istic of  superstition)  is  apt  to  be  mistaken 
for  a  sign  of  pre-eminent  piety.  Besides 
those  who  hold  the  c  double  doctrine' — 
the  '  disciplina  arcani' — and  concerning 
whom  therefore  it  would  be  rash  to  pro- 
nounce whether  any  particular  tenet 
taught  by  them  is  one  which  they  in- 
wardly believe,  or  is  one  of  the  exoteric  in- 
structions deemed  expedient  for  the  multi- 
tude,— besides  these  persons,  there  are,  no 
doubt,  men  of  sincere  though  mistaken 
piety,  who,  as  has  been  just  intimated, 
consider  it  as  the  safe  side  in  all  doubtful 
cases,  to  adhere  with  unhesitating  confi- 
dence to  every  thing  that  may  possibly 
have  been  introduced  by  the  Apostles  ; — 
to  make  every  thing  an  article  of  Christian 
faith  that  could  have  been  implied  in  any 
thing  they  may  have  taught.  But  such 
persons  would  perceive,  on  more  careful 
and  sober  reflection,  that  a  rightly  scrupu- 
lous piety  consists,  as  has  been  said,  in 
drawing  the  line  as  distinctly  as  we  are 
able,  between  what  is,  and  what  is  not  de- 
signed by  our  divine  Instructors  as  a  por- 
tion of  their  authoritative  precepts  and  di- 
rections. It  is  by  this  careful  anxiety  to 
comply  with  their  intention  with  respect  to 
us,  that  we  are  to  manifest  a  true  venera- 
tion for  them. 

"  Any  thing  that  does  not  fall  within  this 
rule,  we  may  believe,  but  not  as  a  part  of 
the  Christian  revelation; — we  may  prac- 
tise, but  not  as  a  portion  of  the  divine  in- 
stitutions essential  to  a  Christian  Church, 
and  binding  on  all  men  in  all  ages  :  not, 
in  short,  as  something  placed  beyond  the 
bounds  of  that  '  binding  and  loosing' 
power  which  belongs  to  every  church,  in 
reference  to  things  neither  enjoined  in 
Scripture  nor  at  variance  with  it.  Other- 
wise, even  though  what  we  believe  should 
be,  really,  and  in  itself,  true,  and  though 
what  we  practise,  should  chance  to  be  in 
fact  what  the  Apostles  did  practise,  we 
should  not  be  honouring,  but  dishonour- 
ing God,  by  taking  upon  ourselves  to  give 
the  sanction  of  his  authority  to  that  from 
which  He  has  thought  fit  to  withhold  that 


sanction.  When  the  Apostle  Paul  gave  his 
advice  on  matters  respecting  which  he '  had 
no  commandment  from  the  Lord,'  he  of 
course  thought  that  what  he  was  recom- 
mending was  good ;  but  so  far  was  he 
from  presuming  to  put  it  forth  as  a  divine 
command,  that  he  expressly  notified  the 
contrary.  Let  us  not  think  to  manifest 
our  pious  humility  by  reversing  the  Apos- 
tle's procedure  ! 

w  I  have  thought  it  needful,  in  these 
times  especially,  to  insert  this  caution 
against  such  mistaken  efforts  after  ad- 
vancement in  Christian  knowledge  and 
practice ;  against  the  delusions  of  those 
who,  while  they  exult  in  their  imagined 
progress  in  the  Christian  course,  are,  in 
reality,  straying  into  other  paths,  and  fol- 
lowing a  bewildering  meteor." 

§  20.  Those  whose  "  Church  princi- 
ples" lead  them  thus  to  remove  from  a 
firm  foundation  the  institutions  of  a  Chris- 
tian Church,  and  especially  of  our  own, 
and  to  place  them  on  the  sand,  are  more- 
over compelled,  as  it  were  with  their  own 
hands,  to  dig  away  even  that  very  founda- 
tion of  sand.  For,  in  respect  of  our  own 
Church,  since  it  inculcates  repeatedly  and 
earnestly  as  a  fundamental  principle,*  that 
nothing  is  to  be  insisted  on  as  an  essential 
point  of  faith,  that  is  not  taught  in  Scrip- 
ture, any  member  of  our  Church  who 
should  make  essentials  of  points  confess- 
edly NOT  found  in  Scripture,  and  who 
should  consequently  make  it  a  point  of 
necessary  faith  to  believe  that  these  are 
essentials,  must  unavoidably  be  pronounc- 
ing condemnation,  either  on  himself,  or 
on  the  very  Church  he  belongs  to,  and 
whose  claims  he  is  professing  to  fortify. 

But  moreover,  not  from  our  own  Church 
only,  but  from  the  Universal  Church, — 
from  all  the  privileges  and  promises  of 
the  Gospel, — the  principles  I  am  con- 
demning, go  to  exclude,  if  fairly  followed 
out,  the  very  persons  who  advocate  them. 
For  it  is  certain  that  our  own  institutions 
and  practices  (and  the  like  may  be  said, 
I  apprehend,  of  every  other  Church  in  the 
world)  though  not,  we  conceive,  at  vari- 
ance with  any  Apostolical  injunctions,  or 
with  any  Gospel  principle,  are,  in  several 
points,  not  precisely  coincident  with  those 
of  the  earliest  Churches.  The  Agapae  for 
instance,  or  "  Love-feasts,"  alluded  to  just 
above,  have,  in  most  Churches,  been  long 
discontinued.  The  "  Widows"  again, 
whom  we  find  mention  of  in  Paul's  Epis- 


*  Besides  the  Articles,  see,  on  this   point,  the 
Ordination  Service. 


44 


CHRISTIAN  HOPES  AND  PRIVILEGES. 


ties,  appear  plainly  to  have  been  an  Or- 
der of  Deaconesses  regularly  appointed 
to  particular  functions  in  the  earliest 
Churches :  and  their  Deacons  appear  to 
have  had  an  office  considerably  different 
from  those  of  our  Church. 

Again,  it  seems  plainly  to  have  been  at 
least  the  general,  if  not  the  universal, 
practice  of  the  Apostles,  to  appoint  over 
each  separate  Church  a  single  individual 
as  a  chief  Governor,  under  the  title  of 
"Jlngel"  (i.  e.  Messenger  or  Legate  from 
the  Apostles)  or  "  BISHOP,"  i.  e.  Superin- 
tendent or  Overseer.  A  CHURCH  and  a 
DIOCESS  seem  to  have  been  for  a  con- 
siderable time  co-extensive  and  identical. 
And  each  Church  or  Diocess  (and  con- 
sequently each  Superintendent)  though 
connected  with  the  rest  by  ties  of  Faith 
and  Hope  and  Chanty,  seems  to  have 
been  (as  has  been  already  observed)  per- 
fectly independent  as  far  as  regards  any 
power  of  control. 

The  plan  pursued  by  the  Apostles  seems 
to  have  been,  as  has  been  above  remarked, 
to  established  a  great  number  of  small 
(in  comparison  with  modern  Churches) 
distinct  and  independent  Communities, 
each  governed  by  its  own  single  Bishop, 
consulting,  no  doubt,  with  his  own  Pres- 
byters, and  accustomed  to  act  in  concur- 
rence with  them,  and  occasionally  confer- 
ring with  the  Brethren  in  other  Churches, 
but  owing  no  submission  to  the  rulers  of 
any  other  Church,  or  to  any  central  com- 
mon authority  except  the  Apostles  them- 
selves. And  other  points  of  difference 
might  be  added. 

Now  to  vindicate  the  institutions  of  our 
own,  or  of  some  other  Church,  on  the 
Ground  that  they  "  are  not  in  themselves 
superstitious  or  ungodly," — that  they  are 
not  at  variance  with  Gospel  principles,  or 
with  any  divine  injunction  that  was  de- 
signed to  be  of  universal  obligation,  is 
intelligible  and  reasonable.  But  to  vin- 
dicate them  on  the  ground  of  the  exact 
conformity,  which  it  is  notorious  they  do 
not  possess,  to  the  most  ancient  models, 
and  even  to  go  beyond  this,  and  condemn 
all, Christians  whose  institutions  and  ordi- 
nances are  not  "  one  and  utterly  like"  our 
own,  on  the  ground  of  their  departure 
from  the  Apostolical  precedents,  which  no 
Church  has  exactly  adhered  to, — does 
seem, — to  use  no  harsher  expression, — 
not  a  little  inconsistent  and  unreasonable. 
And  yet  one  may  not  unfrequently  hear 
members  of  Episcopalian  Churches  pro- 
nouncing severe  condemnation  on  those 
of  other  Communions,  and  even  exclud- 


ing them  from  the  Christian  body,  on  the 
ground,  not  of  their  not  being  under  the 
best  form  of  Ecclesiastical  Government,* 
but,  of  their  wanting  the  very  essentials 
of  a  Christian  Church  :  viz.,  the  very  same 
distinct  Orders  in  the  Hierarchy  that  the 
Apostles  appointed  :  and  this,  while  the 
Episcopalians  themselves  have,  univer- 
sally, so  far  varied  from  the  Apostolical 
institutions  as  to  have  in  one  Church 
several  Bishops;  each  of  whom  conse- 
quently differs  in  the  office  he  holds,  in  a 
most  important  point,  from  one  of  the 
primitive  Bishops,  as  much  as  the  Go- 
vernor of  any  one  of  our  Colonies  does 
from  a  Sovereign  Prince. 

Now  whether  the  several  alterations, 
and  departures  from  the  original  institu- 
tions, were  or  were  not,  in  each  instance, 
made  on  good  grounds,  in  accordance 
with  an  altered  state  of  society,  is  a  ques- 
tion which  cannot  even  be  entertained  by 
those  who  hold  that  no  Church  is  com- 
petent to  vary  at  all  from  the  ancient  mo- 
del. Their  principle  would  go  to  exclude 
at  once  from  the  pale  of  Christ's  Church 
almost  every  Christian  Body  since  the 
first  two  or  three  Centuries. 

The  edifice  they  overthrow  crushes  in 
its  fall  the  blind  champion  who  has 
broken  its  pillars. 

§  21.  Waiving  however  what  may  be 
called  a  personal  argument,  and  supposing 
that  some  mode  could  be  devised  of  ex- 
plaining away  all  the  inconsistencies  I 
have  been  adverting  to,  still,  if  the  essen- 
tials of  Christianity, — at  least  a  consider- 
able portion  of  them — are  not  to  be  found 
in  Scripture,  but  in  a  supplementary  Tra- 
dition, which  is  to  be  sought  in  the  works 
of  those  early  Fathers  who  were  ortho- 
dox, the  foundations  of  a  Christian's  Faith 
and  Hope  become  inaccessible  to  nearly 
the  whole  of  the  Laity,  and  to  much  the 
greater  part  of  the  Clergy. 

This,  it  may  be  said,  is  just  as  it  should 
be;  and  as  it  must  be:  the  unlearned  be- 
ing necessarily  dependent  on  the  learn- 
ed, in  respect  of  several  most  important 
points  ;  since  the  great  mass  of  Christians 
cannot  be  supposed  capable  of  even  read- 
ing the  Scriptures  in  the  original  tongues  ; 


*  It  is  remarkable  that  there  are  Presbyterians 
also,  who  proceed  on  similar  principles ;  \vho  con- 
tend that  originally  the  distinction  between  Bi- 
shops and  Presbyters  did  not  exist;  and  conse- 
quently (not  that  Episcopacy  is  not  essential  to 
a  Church  but)  that  Episcopal  government  is  an 
unwarrantable  innovation — a  usurpation  —  a 
profane  departure  from  the  divine  ordinances ! 


UNCERTAIN  FOUNDATION  OF  FAITH  BASED  ON  REPORTS. 

much  less  of  examining  ancient  manu- 
scripts. 

Now  this  necessity  I  see  no  reason  for 
admitting,  if  it  be  understood  in  the  sense 
that  the  unlearned  must  needs  take  the 
word  of  the  learned,  and  place  implicit 
reliance*  on  the  good  faith  of  certain  in- 
dividuals selected  by  them  as  their  spiritual 
guides.  It  is  in  their  power,  and  is  surely 
their  duty,  to  ascertain  how  far  the  asser- 
tions of  certain  learned  men  are  to  be 
safely  relied  on.f 

But  when,  in  the  case  now  before  us, 
men  come  to  consider  and  inquire  what 
the  foundation  really  is  on  which  they 
are  told  (according  to  the  principles 
I  have  been  speaking  of)  to  rest  their  own 
hopes  of  eternal  life,  and  to  pronounce 
condemnation  on  those  who  differ  from 
them,  it  cannot  be  but  that  doubt  and  dis- 
satisfaction, and  perhaps  disgust,  and 
danger  of  ultimate  infidelity,  will  beset 
I  them,  in  proportion  as  they  are  of  a 
serious  and  reflective  turn,  and  really 


'f/  *  See  Appendix,  Note  (I.) 
v  j-  "  It  is  manifest  that  the  concurrent  testimony, 
positive  or  negative,  of  several  witnesses,  when 
there  can  have  been  no  concert,  and  especially 
when  there  is  any  rivalry  or  hostility  between 
them,  carries  with  it  a  weight  independent  of  that 
which  may  belong  to  each  of  them  considered 
separately.  For  though,  in  such  a  case,  each  of 
the  witnesses  should  be  even  considered  as  wholly 
undeserving  of  credit,  still  the  chances  might  be 
incalculable  against  their  all  agreeing  in  the  same 
falsehood.  It  is  in  this  kind  of  testimony  that 
the  generality  of  mankind  believe  in  the  motions 
of  the  earth,  and  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  &c. 
Their  belief  is  not  the  result  of  their  own  observa- 
tions and  calculations ;  nor  yet  again  of  their  im- 
plicit reliance  on  the  skill  and  the  good  faith  of 
any  one  or  more  astronomers ;  but  it  rests  on  the 
agreement  of  many  independent  and  rival  astro- 
nomers ;  who  want  neither  the  ability  nor  the  will 
to  detect  and  expose  each  other's  errors.  It  is  on 
similar  grounds,  as  Dr.  Hinds  has  justly  observed, 
.  that  all  men,  except  about  two  or  three  in  a  mil- 
lion, believe  in  the  existence  and  in  the  genuine- 
ness of  manuscripts  of  ancient  books,  such  as  the 
Scriptures.  It  is  not  that  they  have  themselves 
examined  these;  or  again,  (as  some  represent) 
that  they  rely  implicitly  on  the  good  faith  of  those 
who  profess  to  have  done  so ;  but  they  rely  on  the 
concurrent  and  uncontradicted  testimony  of  all 
who  have  made,  or  who  might  make,  the  exa- 
mination ;  both  unbelievers,  and  believers  of  various 
hostile  sects  ;  any  one  of  whom  would  be  sure  to 
seize  any  opportunity  to  expose  the  forgeries  or 
errors  of  his  opponents. 

"  This  observation  is  the  more  important,  be- 
cause many  persons  are  liable  to  be  startled  and 
dismayed  on  its  being  pointed  out  to  them  that 
they  have  been  believing  something — as  they  are 
led  to  suppose — on  very  insufficient  reasons ;  when 
the  truth  is  perhaps  that  they  have  been  mis-stat- 
ing their  reasons." — Rhetoric,  part  I.  ch.  2.  §  4. 


45 

pmxious  to  attain  religious  truth.  For 
when  referred  to  the  works  of  the  ortho- 
dox ancient  Fathers,  they  find  that  a  very- 
large  portion  of  these  works  is  lost ;  or 
that  some  fragments,  or  reports  of  them 
by  other  writers,  alone  remain  :  they  find 
again  that  what  has  come  down  to  us  is 
so  vast  in  amount  that  a  life  is  not  suffi- 
cient for  the  attentive  study  of  even  the 
chief  part  of  it  ;*  they  find  these  Authors 
by  no  means  agreed,  on  all  points,  with 
each  other,  or  with  themselves  ;  and  that 
learned  men  again  are  not  agreed  in  the 
interpretation  of  them ;  and  still  less 
agreed  as  to  the  orthodoxy  of  each,  and 
I  the  degree  of  weight  due  to  his  judgment 
j  on  several  points ;  nor  even  agreed  by- 
some  centuries  as  to  the  degree  of  anti- 
quity^ that  is  to  make  the  authority  of 
each  decisive,  or  more  or  less  approach- 
ing to  decisive. 

Every  thing  in  short  pertaining  to  this 
appeal  is  obscure, — uncertain, — disputa- 
ble— and  actually  disputed, — to  such  a  de- 
gree, that  even  those  who  are  not  able  to 
read  the  original  authors  may  yet  be  per- 
fectly competent  to  perceive  how  unstable 
a  foundation  they  furnish.  They  can  per- 
ceive that  the  mass  of  Christians  are 
called  on  to  believe  and  to  do  what  is  es- 
sential to  Christiant  vr,  in  implicit  reliance 
on  the  reports  of  their  respective  pastors, 
as  to  what  certain  deep  theological  anti- 
quarians have  reported  to  them,  respecting 
the  reports  given  by  certain  ancient 
Fathers,  of  the  reports  current  in  their 
times,  concerning  apostolical  usages  and 
institutions  !  And  yet,  whoever  departs 
in  any  degree  from  these,  is  to  be  re- 
garded at  best  in  an  intermediate  state 
between  Christianity  and  Heathenism! 
Surely  the  tendency  of  this  procedure 
must  be  to  drive  the  doubting  into  con- 
firmed (though  perhaps  secret)  infidelity, 
and  to  fill  with  doubts  the  most  sincerely 
pious,  if  they  are  anxiously  desirous  of 
attaining  truth,  and  unhappily  have 
sought  it  from  such  instructers. 


v*  Would  not  the  ingenuous  course  be,  for  those 
who  refer  to  the  authority  of  "  The  Fathers,"  to 
state  distinctly,  1st,  which  of  these  ancient 
writers  they  mean ;  and,  2dly,  whether  they  have 
read  these  7  For,  a  very  large  proportion,  even 
of  the  higher  classes,  are  far  from  being  aware  of 
the  voluminous  character  of  the  works  thus 
vaguely  referred  to  :  and  being  accustomed,  when 
any  one  refers  to  "  The  Scriptures"  to  under- 
stand him  as  speaking  of  a  well  known  book, 
which  they  presume  he  professes  to  have  read,  it 
is  likely  they  should  conclude,  unless  told  to  the 
contrary,  that  one  who  appeals  to  "  The  Fathers," 
has  himself  read  them, 
f  See  Note,  p.  11 4. 


46 


POWER  OF  THE  KEYS. 


§  22.  But  an  attempt  is  usually  made 
to  silence  all  such  doubts  by  a  reference 
to  the  Catholic  Church,  or  the  "primi- 
tive" or  the  u  ancient  Catholic  Church," 
as   having  authority   to  decide, — and  as 
having  in  fact  decided, — on  the  degree  of 
regard  due  to  the  opinions  and  testimony 
of  individual  writers  among  the  Fathers. 
And  a  mere  reference  such  as  this,  ac- 
companied with  unhesitating  assertion,  is 
not    unfrequently    found     to    satisfy    or 
silence  those  who  might  be  disposed   to 
doubt.     And  while  questions  are  eagerly 
discussed  as   to  the  degree  of  deference 
due  to  the  "  decisions   of  the  universal 
Church,"  some  preliminary  questions  are 
often  overlooked  :  such  as, — when,  and 
where  did  any  one  visible  Community, 
comprising  all  Christians  as  its  members, 
exist?     Does  it  exist  still?     Is  its  au- 
thority   the    same    as    formerly  ?      And 
again,  who  are  its  rulers  and  other  offi- 
cers, rightfully  claiming  to  represent  Him 
who  is  the  acknowledged  Head   of  the 
Universal   (or    Catholic)   Church,    Jesus 
Christ,  and  to  act  as  his  Vicegerents  on 
Earth  ?     For,  it  is  plain  that  no  society 
that  has  a  supreme  Governor*  can  perform 
any  act,  as  a  Society,  and  in  its  corporate 
capacity,  without  that  supreme  Governor, 
either  in  person,  or  represented  by  some 
one  clearly  deputed  by  him,  and  invested 
with  his  authority.     And  a  Bishop,  Pres- 
byter, or  other  officer,  of  any  particular 
Church,  although  he  is  a  member  of  the 
Universal  Christian   Church,  and  also  a 
Christian  Ecclesiastical  Ruler,  is  not  a 
Ruler  of  the  Universal  Church  ;  his  juris- 
diction not  extending  beyond  his  particu- 
lar Diocess,  Province,  or  Church:  any 
more  than  a  European  King  is  King  of 
Europe.     Who  then  are  to  be  recognized 
as  Rulers  of  (not  merely,  in)  the  Uni- 
versal Church  ?     Where  (on  Earth)  is  its 
central    supreme    government,   such    as 
every   single    Community    must    have  ? 
Who  is  the  accredited  organ  empowered 
to  pronounce  its  decrees,  in  the  name  of 
the  whole  Community  ?     And  where  are 
these  decrees  registered  ? 

Yet  many  persons  are  accustomed  to 
talk  familiarly  of  the  decisions  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  as  if  there  were  some 
accessible  record  of  them,  such  as  we 
have  of  the  Acts  of  any  Legislative  Body ; 
and  u  as  if  there  existed  some  recognized 
functionaries,  regularly  authorized  to  go- 
vern and  to  represent  that  community, 
the  Church  of  Christ ;  and'  answering  to 
the  king — senate — or  other  constituted 
authorities,  in  any  secular  community. 


And  yet  no  shadow  of  proof  can  be  offered 
that  the  Church,  in  the  above  sense, — the 
Universal  Church, — can  possibly  give  any 
decision  at  all; — that  it  has  any  consti- 
tuted authorities  as  the  organs  by  which 
such  decision  could  be  framed  or  promul- 
gated,— or,  in  short,  that  there  is,  or  ever 
was,  any  one  community  on  earth,  recog- 
nized, or  having  any  claim  to  be  recog- 
nized, as  the  Universal  Church,  bearing 
rule  over  and  comprehending  all  particu- 
lar Churches. 

"  '  We  are  wont  to  speak  of  the  found- 
ation of  the  Church, — the  authority  of 
the  Church, — the  various  characteristics 
of  the  Church, — and  the  like, — as  if  the 
Church  were,  originally  at  least,  One  So- 
ciety in  all  respects.  From  the  period  in 
which  the  Gospel  was  planted  beyond  the 
precincts  of  Judaea,  this  manifestly  ceased 
to  be  the  case;  and  as  Christian  societies 
were  formed  among  people  more  and 
more  unconnected  and  dissimilar  in  cha- 
racter and  circumstances,  the  difficulty  of 
considering  the  Church  as  One  Society 
increases.  Still,  from  the  habitual  and 
unreflecting  use  of  this  phrase,  "  the 
Church,"  it  is  no  uncommon  case  to 
confound  the  two  notions ;  and  occasion- 
ally to  speak  of  the  various  societies  of 
Christians  as  one,  occasionally,  as  distinct 
bodies.  The  mischief  which  has  been 
grafted  on  this  inadvertency  in  the  use  of 
the  term,  has  already  been  noticed  ;  and 
it  is  no  singular  instance  of  the  enormous 
practical  results  which  may  be  traced  to 
mere  ambiguity  of  expression.  The 
Church  is  undoubtedly  one,  and  so  is  the 
Human  race  one  ;  but  not  as  a  Society. 
It  was  from  the  first  composed  of  distinct 
societies ;  which  were  called  one,  because 
formed  on  common  principles.  It  is  One 
Society  only  when  considered  as  to  its 
future  existence.  The  circumstance  of 
its  having  one  common  Head,  (Christ,) 
one  Spirit,  one  Father,  are  points  of  unity 
which  no  more  make  the  Church  One 
Society  on  earth,  than  the  circumstance 
of  all  men  having  the  same  Creator,  and 
being  derived  from  the  same  Adam,  ren- 
ders the  Human  Race  one  Family.  That 
Scripture  often  speaks  of  Christians  gene- 
rally under  the  term,  "  the  Church,"  is 
true ;  but  if  we  wish  fully  to  understand 
the  force  of  the  term  so  applied,  we  need 
only  call  to  mind  the  frequent  analogous 
use  of  ordinary  historical  language  when 
no  such  doubt  occurs.  Take,  for  example 
Thucydides'  History  of  the  Pcloponne- 
sian  War.  It  contains  an  account  of  the 
transactions  of  two  opposed  parties,  each 


PRETENDED  DECISIONS   OF  THE  CATHOLIC  CHURCH 


47 


made  up  of  many  distinct  communities; 
on  the  one  side  were  Democracies,  on 
the  other  Oligarchies.  Yet  precisely  the 
same  use  is  made  by  the  historian  of  the 
terms  "the  Democracy"  and  "Oligar- 
chy," as  we  find  Scripture  adopting  with 
regard  to  the  term  "  the  Church."  No 
one  is  misled  by  these  so  as  to  suppose 
the  Community  of  Athens  one  with  that 
of  Corcyra,  or  the  Theban  with  the 
Lacedaemonian.  WThen  the  heathen  writer 
speaks  of  "  the  Democracy  of"  or  "in" 
the  various  democratical  States,  we  natur- 
ally understand  him  to  mean  distinct  So- 
cieties formed  on  similar  principles  j  and 
so,  doubtless,  ought  we  to  interpret  the 
sacred  writers  when  they,  in  like  manner, 
make  mention  of  the  Church  of,  or  in, 
Antioch,  Rome,  Ephesus,  Corinth,  &_c. 

"  c  But  there  was  also  an  especial  reason 
why  the  term  Church  should  have  been 
often  used  by  the  sacred  writers  as  if  it 
applied  to  One  Society.  God's  dispensa- 
tion had  hitherto  been  limited  to  a  single 
society, — the  Jewish  People.  Until  the 
Gospel  was  preached,  the  Church  of  God 
was  One  Society.  It  therefore  sometimes 
occurs  with  the  force  of  a  transfer  from 
the  objects  of  God's  former  dispensation, 
to  those  of  his  present  dispensation.  In 
like  manner,  as  Christians  are  called  "  the 
Elect,"  their  bodies  "the  Temple,"  and 
their  Mediator  "  the  High  Priest ;"  so, 
their  condition,  as  the  objects  of  God's 
new  dispensation,  is  designated  by  the 
term  "  the  Church  of  Christ,"  and  "  the 
Church." 

u  4  The  Church  is  one,  then,  not  as  con- 
sisting of  One  Society,  but  because  the 
various  societies,  or  Churches,  were  then 
modelled,  and  ought  still  to  be  so,  on  the 
same  principles;  and  because  they  enjoy 
common  privileges, — one  Lord,  one  Spirit, 
one  Baptism.  Accordingly  the  Holy 
Ghost,  through  his  agents  the  Apostles, 
has  not  left  any  detailed  account  of  the 
formation  of  any  Christian  society ;  but 
He  has  very  distiricly  marked  the  great 
principles  on  which  all  were  to  be  founded, 
whatever  distinctions  may  exist  amongst 
them.  In  short  the  foundation  of  the 
Church  by  the  Apostles  was  not  analo- 
gous to  the  work  of  Romulus,  or  Solon  ; 
it  was  not,  properly,  the  foundation  of 
Christian  societies  which  occupied  them, 
but  the  establishment  of  the  principles  on 
which  Christians  in  all  ages  might  form 
societies  for  themselves.' — Encyclopaedia 
JlfetropoUt.ana.  "  Age  of  the  Apostolical 
Fathers,"  p.  774. 

"The   above    account    is   sufficiently 


established    even   by  the  mere  negative 
circumstance  of  the  absence  of  all  men- 
tion in  the  Sacred  Writings  of  any  one 
\  Society  on  earth,  having  a  Government 
!  and  officers  of  its  own,  and   recognized 
as   the    Catholic    or   Universal    Church: 
especially  when  it  is  considered  that  the 
frequent     mention     of     the      particular 
Churches  at  Jerusalem,  Antioch,  Rome, 
Corinth,  &c., — of  the  seven  Churches  in 
Asia,  —  and    of    '  the     care    of    all    the 
,  Churches'    which    Paul     had     founded, 
|  would    have    rendered    unavoidable    the 
|  notice  of  the  One  Church  (had  there  been 
any  such)   which  bore  rule  over  all  the 
rest,  either  as  its  subjects,  or  as  provin- 
cial departments  of  it. 

"  This  negative  evidence,  I  say,  would 
alone  be  fully  sufficient,  considering  that 
the  whole  burden  of  proof  lies  on  the 
side  of  those  who  set  up  such  a  claim. 
I  He  who  appeals  to  the  alleged  decisions 
of  a  certain  Community,  is  clearly  bound, 
J  in  the  first  place,  to  prove  its  existence. 
But  if  .we  proceed  to  historical  evidence, 
we  find  on  examination,  that  there  never 
was  a  time  when  the  supremacy  of  any 
one  Church  was  acknowledged  by  all,  or 
nearly  all  Christians.  And  to  say  they 
ought  to  have  done  so,  and  that  as  many 
as  have  refused  such  submission  are  to 
be  regarded  as  schismatics  and  rebels,  is 
evidently  to  prejudge  the  question. 

"  The  Universal  Church,  then,  being 
one,  in  reference  not  to  any  one  Govern- 
ment on  earth,  but  only  to  our  Divine 
Head,  even  Christ,  ruling  Christians  by 
his  Spirit,  which  spoke  to  them  from 
time  to  time  through  the  Apostles  while 
these  were  living,  and  speaks  still  in  the 
words  of  the  Christian  Scriptures,  it  fol- 
lows that  each  Christian  is  bound  (as  far 
as  Church  authority  extends)  to  submit 
to  the  ordinances  and  decisions, — not  re- 
pugnant to  Scripture,  (see  Art.  xxxiv.,)  of 
the  particular  Church  of  which  he  is  a 
member. 

"  If  it  were  possible  that  all  the  Chris- 
lians  now  in  existence — suppose  250  mil- 
lions— could  assemble,  either  in  person, 
or  by  deputation  of  their  respective  Clergy, 
in  one  place,  to  confer  together:  and  that 
I  the  votes,  whether  personal  or  by  proxy, 
i  of  230  or  240  millions  of  these  were  to 
be  at  variance  (as  in  many  points  they 
probably  would  be)  with  the  decisions 
and  practices  of  our  own   Church ;   we 
should  be  no  more  bound  to  acquiesce 
i  in  and  adopt  the  decision  of  that  majority, 
j  even  in  matters  which  we  do  not  regard 
'  as  essential  to  the  Christian  Faith,  than 


48 


PRETENDED  DECISIONS  OF  THE  CATHOLIC  CHURCH. 


we  should  be,  to  pass  a  law  for  this  \ 
realm,  because  it  was  approved  by  the  j 
majority  for  the  human  race.'*''* 

Many  persons  are  accustomed  to  speak 
as  if  a  majority  had  some  natural  inherent  \ 
right   to    control   and   to   represent    the , 
whole  of  any  Assembly  or  Class  of  per-  • 
sons.     We  are  told  of  this  or  that  being 
"  held   by  most  of  the  early  Fathers  ;" — 
of    the    opinions    or    practices  of    "  the 
greater    part   of    the    members    of    the 
early   Church  ;" — of    the    "  decision   of  j 
the  major iti/  of"  such  and  such  a  Coun- 
cil,  &c.     No  doubt,    when  other  points 
are    equal,    the  judgment   of   a   greater 
number  deserves  more  consideration  than 
that,  of  a  less;  but  a  majority  has  no  such 
controlling  or  representing  power,  except 
by    express,     arbitrary    regulation     and 
enactment ;    and   regulations   as    to   this  j 
point  differ  in  different  cases.     Thus,  the  j 
decision  of  a  Jury,  in   England,  is  their  j 
unanimous  decision  ;  in  Scotland,  that  of , 
two-thirds;    a  decision  of  the  House  of| 
Peers  is  that  of  a  majority  of  those  who 
are  (personally,  or  by  Proxy)  present ; —  ( 
of  the  House  of  Commons, — of  a  majo-  | 
rity  in  a  House  of  not  less  than  forty ;  j 
&c.      And    when    there   is    no    express 
enactment   or  agreement  on  this    point, 
nothing  can  fairly  be  called  an  opinion 
or  decision  of  such  and  such  persons, 
except  one    in   which  they  all    concur. 
When  they  do  not,  we  then  look,  not 
merely  to  the  numbers,  but  also  to  the 
characters    and    circumstances    of    each 
party. 

Many  again  are  misled  by  the  twofold 
ambiguity  in  the  phrase  "Authority  of 
the  Catholic  (or  Universal)  Church;" 
both  "  Authority,"  and  "  Church"!  being 
often  employed  in  more  than  one  sense. 
Authority,  in  the  sense,  not  of  power. ,J  but 
of  a  claim  to  attention  and  to  deference, 
(more  or  less  as  the  case  may  be,)  belongs 
of  course  to  the  "  Universal  Church," 
meaning  thereby  not  any  single  Society* 
but  Christians  generally  throughout  all 
regions  ; — the  "  Christian  World,"  or  (in 


*  Essays,  4th  Series,  pp.  166 — 171. 

•j-  See  Appendix,  .Note  (K.) 

$  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  Power  (or  Author- 
ity in  that  sense)  in  reference  to  any  particular 
ad,  or  decision,  does  not  admit  of  degrees.  A 
man  may  indeed  have  more  or  less  power  than 
another:  that  is,  he  may  have  rightful  power  to 
do  something  which  another  cannot :  but  with 
respect  to  any  specified  act,  he  either  has  the 
power,  or  he  has  it  not.  On  the  other  hand, 
"Authority"  in  the  sense  of  a  claim  to  deference, 
admits  of  infinite  degrees. 


modern  phraseology)  "  the  Christian 
Public."  Whatever  is,  or  has  been, 
attested,  or  believed,  or  practised,  by  all 
of  these,  or  by  the  greater  part  of  them, 
or  by  several  of  those  whom  we  may 
regard  as  the  best  and  wisest  among 
them, — is,  of  course,  entitled  to  a  degree 
of  attentive  and  respectful  consideration, 
greater  or  less  according  to  the  circum- 
stances of  each  case. 

It  is  in  quite  a  different  sense  that  we 
speak  of  the  "  Authority,"  for  instance, 
of  Parliament;  meaning,  of  an  Act  of 
Parliament,  regularly  passed  according  to 
the  prescribed  forms,  and  claiming  (if  not 
at  variance  with  the  divine  laws)  submis- 
sion— compliance — obedience;  quite  in- 
dependent of  any  approbation  on  our  part. 

And  yet  one  may  find  it  asserted,  as  a 
matter  that  admits  of  no  doubt,  and  is  to 
be  taken  for  granted,  as  "  generally  ad- 
mitted, except  by  those  trained  in  a  mo- 
dern school,  that  any  particular  Church 
owes  obedience  to  the  Universal  Church, 
of  which  it  is  a  part."  Such  assertions 
sometimes  come  from  men  of  acknow- 
ledged learning ;  in  reality  far  too  learned 
not  to  be  themselves  well  aware  that  there 
never  was,  since  the  days  of  the  Apostles, 
any  such  Body  existing  as  could  claim,  on 
the  plea  of  being  the  recognized  repre- 
sentative of  the  whole  Christian  World, 
this  "obedience,"  from  each  particular 
Church  ;  and  hence,  these  bold  assertions 
will  often  succeed  in  overawing  the  timid, 
in  deceiving  the  ignorant  and  inconsider- 
ate, and  in  satisfying  the  indolent. 

The  temptation,  doubtless,  is  very 
strong — especially  for  those  who  would 
maintain  doctrines  or  practices  that  are, 
seemingly  at  least,  at  variance  with  Scrip- 
ture— to  make  an  appeal  to  a  standard 
that  is  inaccessible  to  the  mass  of  man- 
kind, and  that  is  in  all  respects  so  vague ; 
to  a  vast  and  indefinite  number  of  writers, 
extending  over  a  very  long  and  indefinite 
space  of  time ; — and  to  avail  oneself  of 
the  awe-inspiring  force  of  sacred  names, 
by  exhorting  men,  in  the  apparent  lan- 
guage of  Scripture* — (for  no  such  passage 
really  exists)  to  "  hear  the  Church !" 

*  Our  Lord  directs  his  disciples,  in  the  event  of 
a  dispute  between  two  individuals,  to  refer  the 
matter,  in  the  last  resort,  to  the  decision  of  the 
Congregation,  Assembly,  or  Church  (Ecclesia ;) 
and  that  if  any  one  disobey  (or  "  refuse  to  hear," 
as  our  translators  render  it)  this,  he  is  to  be  re- 
garded "as  a  heathen,"  &c.,  lay  T»C  'uutKwrine 
7rme*)Ku<n}.  Those  who  adduce  this  passage,  would, 
it  may  be  presumed,  have  at  least  preferred  bring- 
ing forward,  if  they  could  have  found  one,  some  pas- 
sage of  Scripture  which  does  support  their  views. 


.APPEALS  TO  CATHOLIC  DECISIONS  SUPERFLUOUS. 


49 


§  23.  The  readiness  with  which  some 
persons  acquiesce,  at  least  profess  to  ac- 
quiesce, in  supposed  decisions  of  the  Uni- 
versal or  Catholic  Church,  using  the  term 
in  a  sense  in  which  it  can  even  be  proved 
that  no  such  Community  ever  existed  on 
Earth,  and  of  General  Councils,  such  as, 
in  fact,  never  met,  and  of  Traditions  se- 
veral of  which  are  such  as  to  need  proof, 
first,  how  far  they  are  genuine,  and  next, 
how  far,  if  admitted  to  be  genuine,  they 
would  be  binding  on  all  Christians, — this 
ready  acquiescence,  I  say,  is  the  more  ex- 
traordinary, when  we  consider  that  many 
of  the  points  which  ar'e  attempted  to  be 
supported  by  an  appeal  to  such  authority, 
do,  in  fact,  stand  in  no  need  of  that  sup- 
port, but  have  a  firm  foundation  in  Scrip- 
ture, by  virtue  of  the  powers  plainly  con- 
ferred by  Christ  Himself  on  Christian 
Communities. 

Any  forms,  for  instance,  for  Public 
Worship,  and  for  the  Ordaining  of  Chris- 
tian Ministers,  which  "contain  (as  our 
Reformers  maintain  respecting  those  they 
sanctioned*)  nothing  that  is  in  itself  su- 
perstitious and  contrary  to  God's  Word," 
are  plainly  binding,  by  Christ's  own 
sanction,  on  the  members  of  the  Church 
that  appoints  them. 

But  some,  it  should  seem,  are  riot 
satisfied  with  a  justification  of  their  own 
ordinances  and  institutions,  unless  they 
can  find  a  plea  for  condemning  all  those 
who  differ  from  them.  And  this  plea 
they  seek,  not  by  endeavouring  to  show 
the  superior  expediency,  with  a  view  to 
decency,  good  order,  and  edification  of 
the  enactments  they  would  defend,  but  by 
maintaining  the  obligatory  character  of 
supposed  apostolical  traditions ;  and  then 
they  are  driven,  as  I  have  said,  to  shift 
our  own  institutions  from  the  foundation 
on  a  rock,  to  place  them  on  sand. 

When  one  sees  persons  not  content 
with  the  advantages  they  enjoy,  unless 
they  can  exclude  others,  and  in  the  at- 
tempt to  do  so,  "  falling  into  the  midst 
of  the  pit  they  have  digged  for  another," 
it  is  hardly  possible  to  avoid  recalling  to 
one's  mind  the  case  of  Haman,  and  the 
result  of  his  jealousy  of  Mordecai. 

Some  persons  have  endeavoured,  from 
time  to  time,  to  represent  our  Reformers 
as  appealing  to  the  practice  of  what  is 
called  the  Primitive  Church,  and  to  the 
writings  of  the  early  Fathers,  as  the  prin- 
cipal,— or  as  one  principal — ground  on 


*  Article  xxxvi. 
G 


which  they  rest  the  vindication  of  their 
own  decisions;  and  as  taking  for  their 
authoritative  standard  of  rectitude  and 
truth  in  religious  matters,  not  Scripture 
alone,  but  Scripture  combined  and  u  blend- 
ed with  Tradition." 

And  it  is  very  true  that  they  do  (as  it 
was  perfectly  natural  they  should,  en- 
gaged as  they  were  in  controversy  with 
the  Romanists)  frequently  refer  to  the 
records  which  their  opponents  appealed 
to,  in  order  to  show  that  the  very  author- 
ities these  last  were  accustomed  to  rely 
on,  are  in  fact  opposed  to  them.  They 
point  out  the  proofs  extant  that  many 
doctrines  and  practices  which  had  been 
made  to  rest  on  supposed  ancient  tradition, 
were  in  fact  comparatively  modern  inno- 
vations ;  and  they  vindicate  themselves 
from  the  charge  of  innovation  in  some 
points  by  referring  to  ancient  precedents. 
All  this  is  perfectly  natural  and  perfectly 
justifiable.  But  it  is  quite  a  different  thing 
from  acknowledging  a  decisive  authority 
in  early  precedents,  and  in  Tradition, 
either  alone,  or  "blended  with  Scrip- 
ture."*''' If  any  man  is  charged  with  in- 
troducing an  unscriptural  novelty,  and  he 
shows  first  that  it  is  scriptural,  and  then, 
(by  reference  to  the  opinions  of  those  who 
lived  long  ago)  that  it  is  no  novelty,  it  is 
most  unreasonable  to  infer  that  Scripture 
authority  would  have  no  weight  with  him 
unless  backed  by  the  opinions  of  fallible 
men. 

No  one  would  reason  thus  absurdly  in 
any  other  case.  For  instance,  when  some 
bill  is  brought  into  one  of  the  Houses  of 
Parliament,  and  it  is  represented  by  its 
opponents  as  of  a  novel  and  unheard-of 
character,  it  is  common,  and  natural,  and 
allowable,  for  its  advocates  to  cite  in- 
stances of  similar  Acts  formerly  passed. 
Now,  how  absurd  it  would  be  thought  for 
any  one  thence  to  infer  that  those  who 
use  such  arguments  must  mean  to  imply 
that  Parliament  has  no  power  to  pass  an 

*  The  maxim  of  "  abundans  cautela  nocet  ne- 
mini"  is  by  no  means  a  safe  one  if  applied  with- 
out limitation.  See  Logic,  b.  ii.  ch.  5,  §  6.) 

It  is  sometimes  imprudent  (and  some  of  our 
Divines  have,  I  think,  committed  this  impru- 
dence) to  attempt  to  "  make  assurance  doubly 
sure"  by  bringing  forward  confirmatory  reasons, 
which,  though  in  themselves  perfectly  fair,  may 
be  interpreted  unfairly,  by  representing  them  as  an 
acknowledged  indispensable  foundation ; — by  as- 
suming, for  instance,  that  an  appeal  to  such  and 
such  of  the  ancient  Fathers  or  Councils,  in  con- 
firmation of  some  doctrine  or  practice,  is  to  be  un- 
derstood as  an  admission  that  it  would  fall  to  the 
ground  if  not  so  confirmed. 


50 


CATHOLIC  DECISIONS  SUPERFLUOUS. 


Act  unless  it  can  be  shown  that  similar 
Acts  have  been  passed  formerly  ! 

If  any  Bishop  of  the  present  day  should 
be  convinced  that  such  and  such  Theolo- 
gians,— ancient  and  modern — had  given 
correct  and  useful  expositions  of  certain 
parts  of  Scripture,  he  could  not  but  wish 
that  the  Clergy  he  ordained  should  give 
similar  expositions  ;  and  he  would  proba- 
bly recommend  to  their  attentive  perusal 
the  works  of  those  theologians.  Now 
now  monstrous  it  would  be  to  represent 
nim,  on  such  grounds,  as  making  those 
works  a  standard  of  faith  conjointly  with  j 
Scripture  ! 

Of  a  like  character  is  the  very  reference  | 

have  now  been  making  to  the  documents 
">ut  forth  by  those  Reformers  themselves.  I 
certainly  believe  them  to  be  in  accordance 
with  the  principles  above  laid  down  as 
scriptural  and  reasonable :  but  I  protest 
and  so  probably  would  they)  against 

blending  with  Scripture"  the  writings  of  i 
the  Reformers,  to  constitute  jointly  a  rule 
of  faith  binding  on  every  Christian's  con- 
science. If  any  one  is  convinced  that  the 
tloctrines  and  practices  and  institutions  of 
»ur  Church  are  unscriptural,  he  is  bound 
m  conscience  to  leave  it. 

Our  Reformers  believed,  no  doubt,  that 
their  institutions  were,  on  the  whole,  simi- 
lar to  those  of  the  earliest  Churches  ; 
perhaps  they  may  have  believed  this  simi- 
arity  to  be  greater  than  it  really  is ;  but 
what  is  the  ground  on  which  they  rested 
the  claim  of  these  institutions  to  respect- 
ful acquiescence  ?  On  the  ground  of  their 
tt  not  being  in  themselves  superstitious, 
and  ungodly,  and  contrary  to  God's 
Word;" — on  the  ground  of  the  "  power  ! 
of  each  particular  Church  to  ordain  and  I 
abrogate  or  alter"  (though  not  wantonly  j 
and  inconsiderately)  Church-rites  and  I 
ceremonies,  provided  nothing  be  done  j 
contrary  to  Scripture.  So  also,  they  be- 
lieved, no  doubt,  that  the  doctrines  they 
taught,  and  which  they  commissioned 
others  to  teach,  were  such  as  had  been 
taught  by  many  early  Fathers  ;  and  think- 
ing this,  they  could  not  but  wish  that  the 
teaching  of  the  Clergy  should  coincide 
with  that  of  those  Fathers  :  but  what  was 
the  rule  laid  down, — the  standard  fixed 
on,  for  ascertaining  what  should  be  taught 
as  a  part  of  the  Christian  Religion  ?  It 
was  Holy  Scripture ;  not  Scripture  and 
Tradition,  jointly  and  "  blended  together;'* 
but  the  Written  Word  of  God ;  nothing 
being  allowed  to  be  taught  as  an  Article 
of  faith  that  could  not  thence  be  proved. 
Again,  they  doubtless  believed  that  there 


were  early  precedents  for  the  form  of 
Church-government  they  maintained, — 
for  the  different  Orders  of  the  Ministry, 
and  for  the  mode  of  appointing  each. 
They  believed,  no  doubt,  ay  a  fact,  that 
the  Apostles  ordained  Ministers,  and  these 
others,  and  so  on  in  succession,  down  to 
the  then-existing  period.  But  what  was 
the  basis  on  which  they  deliberately  chose 
to  rest  their  system  ?  On  the  declared 
principle  that "•  those  and  those  only  are 
to  be  accounted  as  lawfully  appointed 
Ministers  who  are  called  and  sent  out  by 
those  who  have  authority  in  the  Congrega- 
tion" (or  Church)  "  to  call  and  send  la- 
bourers into  the  Lord's  vineyard  :"  and 
though  themselves  deliberately  adhering 
to  episcopal  Ordination,  they  refrain,  both 
in  the  Article  on  the  "  Church"  and  in 
that  on  "  ministering  in  the  Church"  from 
specifying  Episcopacy  and  episcopal  Or- 
dination as  among  the  essentials. 

§  24.  Some  individuals  among  the  Re- 
formers have  in  some  places  used  lan- 
guage which  may  be  understood  as  im- 
plying a  more  strict  obligation  to  conform 
to  ancient  precedents  than  is  acknow- 
ledged in  the  Articles.  But  the  Articles 
being  deliberately  and  jointly  drawn  up 
for  the  very  purpose  of  precisely  deter- 
mining what  it  was  designed  should  be 
determined  respecting  the  points  they 
treat  of,  and  in  order  to  supply  to  the  An- 
glican Church  their  Confession  of  Faith 
on  those  points,  it  seems  impossible  that 
any  man  of  ingenuous  mind  can  appeal 
from  the  Articles,  Liturgy,  and  Rubric, 
put  forth  as  the  authoritative  declarations 
of  the  Church,  to  any  other  writings, 
whether  by  the  same  or  by  other  authors.* 

*  Articles  XIX.  XX.  XXIII.  XXXIV.  XXXVI. 

"XIX.  Of  the  Church.— The  visible  Church 
of  Christ  ["  ecelesia  Christi  visibilis  est,"  &c.  evi- 
dently A  visible  Church  of  Christ  is  a  congrega- 
tion, &c.]  is  a  congregation  of  faithful  men,  in  the 
which  the  pure  Word  of  God  is  preached,  and  the 
Sacraments  be  duly  administered  according  to 
Christ's  ordinance  in  all  those  things  that  of  ne- 
cessity are  requisite  to  the  same. 

"  As  the  Church  of  Jerusalem,  Alexandria  and 
Antioch,  have  erred ;  so  also  the  Church  of  Rome 
hath  erred,  not  only  in  their  living  and  manner  of 
Ceremonies,  but  also  in  matters  of  Faith. 

"XX.  Of  the  Authority  of  the  Church — 
The  Church  hath  power  to  decree  Rites  and  Cere- 
monies, and  authority  in  Controversies  of  Faith : 
and  yet  it  is  not  lawful  for  the  Church  to  ordain 
any  thing  that  is  contrary  to  God's  Word  written, 
neither  may  it  so  expound  one  place  of  Scripture, 
that  it  be  repugnant  to  another.  Wherefore,  al- 
though the  Church  be  a  witness  and  a  keeper  of 
holy  Writ,  yet,  as  it  ought  not  to  decree  any  thing 
against  the  same,  so  besides  the  same  ought  it  nf* 


THE  ARTICLES  THE  SYMBOLS  OP    OUR  CHURCH. 


51 


On  the  contrary,  the  very  circumstances 
that  opinions  going  far  beyond  what  the 
Articles  express,  or  in  other  respects  con- 
siderably differing  from  them,  did  exist, 
and  were  well  known  and  current,  in  the 
days  of  our  reformers,  gives  even  the  more 
force  to  their  deliberate  omissions  of  these, 
and  their  distinct  declaration  of  what  they 
do  mean  to  maintain.  It  was  not  hastily 
and  unadvisedly  that  they  based  the  doc- 
trines of  their  Church  on  u  the  pure  Word 
of  God,"  and  the  claim  of  their  Church 
to  the  character  of  a  Christian  Commu- 
nity, on  its  being  a  "Congregation  of  be- 
lievers, in  which  that  pure  word  is 
preached,  and  the  Christian  Sacraments 
duly  administered." 

Whatever  therefore  may  have  been  the 
private  opinion  of  any  individuals  among  j 
their  number,  they  have  declared  plainly 

to  enforce  any  thing  to  be  believed  for  necessity 
of  Salvation. 

"XXIII.  Of  Ministering  in  the  Congregation. 
— It  is  not  lawful  for  any  man  to  take  upon  him 
the  office  of  public  preaching,  or  ministering;  the 
Sacraments  in  the  Congregation,  before  he  be  law- 
fully called  and  sent  to  execute  the  same.  And 
those  we  ought  to  judge  lawfully  called  and  sent, 
which  be  chosen  and  called  to  this  work  by  men 
who  have  public  authority  given  unto  them  in  the 
congregation,  to  call  and  send  Ministers  into  the 
Lord's  vineyard. 

"XXXIV.  Of  the  Traditions  of  the  Church. 
— It  is  not  necessary  that  Traditions  and  Ceremo- 
nies be  in  all  places  one,  and  utterly  like;  for  at  all 
times  they  have  been  divers,  and  may  be  changed 
according  to  the  diversities  of  countries,  times,  and 
men's  manners,  so  that  nothing  be  ordained  against 
God's  Word.  Whosoever  through  his  private 
judgment,  willingly  and  purposely,  doth  openly 
break  the  traditions  and  ceremonies  of  the  Church, 
which  be  not  repugnant  to  the  Word  of  God,  and 
be  ordained  and  approved  by  common  authority, 
ought  to  be  rebuked  openly,  (that  others  may  fear 
to  do  the  like,)  as  he  that  offendeth  against  the 
common  order  of  the  church,  and  hurteth  the  au- 
thority of  the  Magistrate, ^and  woundeth  the  con- 
sciences of  the  weak  brethren. 

"  Every  particular  or  national  Church  hath  au- 
thority to  ordain,  change,  and  abolish,  ceremonies 
or  rites  of  the  Church  ordained  only  by  man's  au- 
thority, so  that  all  things  be  done  to  edifying. 

"  XXXVI.  Of  Consecration  of  Bishops  and 
Ministers — The  Book  of  Consecration  of  Arch- 
bishops and  Bishops,  and  Ordering  of  Priests  and 
Deacons,  lately  set  forth  in  the  time  of  Edward  the 
Sixth,  and  confirmed  at  the  same  time  by  authority 
of  Parliament,  doth  contain  all  things  necessary 
to  such  consecration  and  Ordering:  neither  hath 
it  any  thing  that  of  itself  is  superstitious  and  un- 
godly. And  therefore  whosoever  are  consecrated 
or  ordered  according  to  the  Rites  of  that  Book, 
since  the  second  year  of  the  forenamed  King  Ed- 
ward unto  this  time,  or  hereafter  shall  be  consecrat- 
ed or  ordered  according  to  the  same  Rites;  we 
decree  all  such  to  be  rightly,  orderly,  and  lawfully 
consecrated  and  ordered." 


what  it  was  they  agreed  in  regarding  as  a 
safe  and  sufficient  foundation,  and  as  es- 
sential, and  consequently  requiring  to  be 
set  forth  and  embodied  in  the  Symbol  or 
Creed  of  their  Church. 

But  neither  the  Reformers  of  our  Church, 
nor  any  other  human  being,  could  frame 
any  expressions  such  as  not  to  admit  of 
being  explained  away,  or  the  consequences 
of  them  somehow  evaded,  by  an  ingenious 
person  who  should  resolutely  set  himself 
to  the  task.  And  accordingly  our  Church 
has  been  represented  as  resting  her  doc- 
trines and  her  claims  on  Scripture  and 
Tradition  jointly,  and  "blended"  together. 

We  have  been  told  for  instance  of  a 
person  held  up  as  a  model  of  pure  An- 
glican Church  principles,  that  he  "  sub- 
mitted to  the  decision  of  inspiration 
wherever  it  was  to  be  found,  whether  in 
Scripture  or  Antiquity."  And  again  we 
have  been  told  that  "Rome  differs  from 
us  as  to  the  authority  which  she  ascribes 
to  tradition:  she  regards  it  as  co-ordinate, 
our  divines  as  swJ-ordinate ;  as  to  the  way 
in  which  it  is  to  be  employed,  she,  as  in- 
dependent of  Holy  Scripture ;  ours,  as 
subservient  to,  and  blended  with  it:  as  to 
its  limits,  she  supposes  that  the  Church  of 
Rome  has  the  power  of  imposing  new  ar- 
ticles necessary  to  be  believed  for  salva- 
tion; ours,  that  all  such  articles  were 
comprised  at  first  in  the  Creed,  and  that 
the  Church  has  only  the  power  of  clearing, 
defining,  and  expounding  these  fixed  ar- 
ticles." 

Now  whether  the  above  description  be 
a  correct  one  as  far  as  regards  the  tenets 
of  the  Church  of  Rome,  I  do  not  pretend 
to  decide,  nor  does  it  belong  to  my  pre- 
sent purpose  to  inquire  :  but  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  tenets  of  the  Anglican  Church, 
is  such  as  I  feel  bound  to  protest  against. 
If  indeed  by  uws"  and  "our  divines" 
is  to  be  understood  certain  individuals 
who  profess  adherence  to  the  Church  of 
England,  the  above  description  is,  no 
doubt,  very  correct  as  far  as  relates  to 
THEM  :  but  if  it  be  meant  that  such  are 
the  tenets  of  our  Church  itself  as  set  forth 
in  its  authoritative  Confession  of  Faith, — 
the  Articles, — nothing  can  be  more  utterly 
unfounded,  and  indeed  more  opposite  to 
the  truth.  Our  Church  not  only  does  not 
"  blend  Scripture  with  Tradition,"  but 
takes  the  most  scrupulous  care  to  dis- 
tinguish from  every  thing  else  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  as  the  sufficient  and  sole  au- 
thoritative standard. 

Our  Reformers  do  not  merely  omit  to 
ascribe  to  any  Creed  or  other  statement 


CO-ORDIXATE  AND  SUBORDINATE  TEACHERS. 


of  any  doctrine,  an  intrinsic  authority,  or 
one  derived  from  tradition,  but  in  the  Ar- 
ticle on  the  three  Creeds,*  they  take  care 
distinctly  to  assign  the  ground  on  which 
those  are  to  be  retained  ;  viz.,  that  "  they 
may  be  proved  by  Holy  Writ." 

§  25.  As  for  the  distinction  drawn  be- 
tween making  Tradition  on  the  one  hand 
"  an  authority  co-ordinate  with  Scripture," 
on  the  other  hand  "subordinate  and 
blended  with  Scripture,"  I  cannot  but 
think  it  worse  than  nugatory.*  The 
latter  doctrine  I  have  no  scruple  in  pro- 
nouncing the  worse  of  the  two  ;  because  ; 
while  it  virtually  comes  to  the  same  thing, 
it  is  more  insidious,  and  less  likely  to 
alarm  a  mind  full  of  devout  reverence  for 
Scripture. 

When  men  are  told  of  points  of  faith 
which  they  are  to  receive  on  the  authority 
of  Tradition  alone,  quite  independently  of 
any  Scripture  warrant,  they  are  not  un- 
likely to  shrink  from  this  with  doubt  or  a 
disgust,  which  they  are  often  relieved  from 
at  once,  by  a  renunciation,  in  words,  of 
such  a  claim,  and  by  being  assured  that 
Scripture  is  the  supreme  Authority,  and 
that  Tradition  is  to  be  received  as  its 
handmaid  only, — as  not  independent  of  it, 
but  "  subordinate  and  blended  with  it." 
And  yet  if  any  or  every  part  of  Scripture 
is  to  be  interpreted  according  to  a  sup-i 
posed  authoritative  Tradition,  and  from 
that  interpretation  there  is  to  be  no  appeal, 
it  is  plain  that,  to  all  practical  purposes, 
this  comes  to  the  same  thing  as  an  inde- 
pendent Tradition.  For  on  this  system, 
any  thing  may  be  made  out  of  any  thing. 

*  Nor,  by  the  way,  is  it  true  that  our  Church 
has  declared,  in  that,  or  in  any  other  Article,  "  that  I 
all  such  Articles  as  are  necessary  to  be  believed  i 
for  Salvation  were  comprised  at  first  in  the  [Apos- 1 
ties']  Creed.  This,  in  fact,  is  neither  done,  nor  was  ; 
intended  to  be  done,  by  the  framers  of  that  Creed ; 
if  at  least  they  held — as  I  doubt  not  they  did —  | 
the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement. :  for  this  \snot  at\ 
all  mentioned  in  the  Apostles'  Creed.    The  cause,  | 
I  have  no  doubt,  was  that  the  doctrine  had  not  in 
the  earliest  ages  been  disputed.     But  at  any  rate, ' 
the  fact  is  certain,  that  the  Creed  does  dwell  on 
the  reality  of  the  historical  transaction  only,  the 
actual  death  of  Christ,  without  asserting  for  whom 
or  for  what  He  suffered  death. 

•j-  It  is  not  meant  to  be  implied  that  all  persons 
who  take  this  view  are,  themselves,  disposed  to  | 
join  the  Romish  Church,  or  to  think  little  of  the 
differences  between  that  and  their  own.  Distinc- 
tions may  be  felt  as  important  by  one  person,  which 
may  appear  to  others,  and  may  really  be,  utterly 
insignificant.  The  members,  for  instance,  of  the 
Russian  branch,  at  least,  of  the  Greek  Church,  are 
said  to  abhor  image-worship,  while  they  pay  to 
pictures  an  adoration  which  Protestants  would 
regard  as  equally  superstitious. 


The  Jews  may  resort,  whenever  it  suits 
their  purpose,  (and  often  do,)  to  an  appeal 
to  their  Scriptures  INTERPRETED  according 
to  their  tradition,  in  behalf  of  any  thing 
they  are  disposed  to  maintain.  I  remember 
conversing  some  years  ago  with  an  edu- 
cated Jew  on  the  subject  of  some  of  their 
observances,  and  remarking,  in  the  course 
of  the  conversation,  that  their  prohibition 
of  eating  butter  and  flesh  at  the  same  meal, 
rested,  I  supposed,  not  like  several  other 
prohibitions,  on  the  Mosaic  written  Laws, 
but  on  Tradition  alone.  No,  he  assured 
me  it  was  prohibited  in  the  Law.  I  dare 
say  my  readers  would  be  as  much  at  a 
loss  as  I  was,  to  guess  where.  He  referred 
me  to  Exod.  xxiii.  19. 

In  like  manner,  if  any  ordinary  student 
of  Scripture  declares  that  he  finds  no 
warrant  there  for  believing  in  the  bodily 
presence  of  Christ  in  the  Eucharist,  and 
that  he  finds  on  the  contrary  our  Lord 
Himself  declaring  that  "it  is  the  Spirit 
that quickeneth,"  (giveth  life;)  u  ihejlesh 
projiteth  nothing,"  he  is  told  that  Tradi- 
tion directs  us  to  interpret  literally  the 
words  "  This  is  my  Body,"  and  that  he 
must  not  presume  to  set  up  his  "  private 
judgment"  against  the  interpretation,  arid 
this,  when  perhaps  he  is  assured  by  the 
same  person,  on  similar  grounds,  that 
"  the  whole  Bible  is  one  great  Parable  !" 

If  again  he  finds  the  Apostles  ordain- 
ing Elders,  (Presbyters,)  and  never  allud- 
ing to  any  person,  except  Christ  Him- 
self, as  bearing  any  such  office  in  the 
Christian  Church  as  that  of  the  Levitical 
Priest,  (Hiereus)  he  is  told,  on  the  au- 
thority of  Tradition,  which  he  must  not 
dispute,  that  Presbyter  means  Hiereus,  a 
sacrificing  Priest.  Mahomet's  application 
to  himself  of  the  prophecy  of  Jesus,  that 
He  would  "  send  another  Paraclete"  or 
Comforter,  was  received  by  his  followers 
on  similar  grounds ;  that  is,  it  was  an  in- 
terpretation which  he  chose  to  put  on  the 
words ;  and  woe  to  him  who  should  dis- 
pute it ! 

If  again  we  find  the  whole  tenor  of 
Scripture  opposed  to  invocation  of  Saints, 
and  Image-worship,  we  may  be  told  that 
there  is  a  kind  of  invocation  of  Saints 
which  the  Scriptures,  as  interpreted  by 
Tradition,  allow  and  encourage.  And  so 
on,  to  an  indefinite  extent;  just  as  effec- 
tually, and  almost  as  easily,  as  if  Tradi- 
tion "  had  been  set  up  independent  of 
Scripture,  instead  of  being  "blended 
with  it."* 

*  See  Powell  on  Tradition,  §  14-17. 


ALLEGED  IMPORTANCE  OF  HUMAN  TEACHING. 


53 


"  Tradition"  and  "  Church  interpreta- 
tion" are  made,  according  to  this  system, 
subordinate  to,  and  dependent  on  Scrip- 
ture, much  in  the  same  way  that  some 
parasite  plants  are  dependent  on  the  trees 
that  support  them.  The  parasite  at  first 
clings  to,  and  rests  on  the  tree,  which  it 
gradually  overspreads  with  its  own 
foliage,  till  by  little  and  little,  it  weakens 
and  completely  smothers  it : 

"  Miraturque  novas  frondes,  et  non  sua  poma." 

And  it  may  be  added  that  the  insidious 
character  of  this  system  is  still  further 
increased,  if  the  principle  be  laid  down 
without  following  it  out,  at  once,  into  all 
the  most  revolting  consequences  that  may 
follow,  and  that  have  followed,  from  its 
adoption.  For  by  this  means  a  contrast 
is  drawn  between  the  most  extravagant, 
and  a  far  more  moderate,  system  of  false- 
hood and  superstition ;  and  it  is  insinu- 
ated that  this  favourable  contrast  is  the 
result  of  the  one  being  built  on  "co- 
ordinate" and  the  other  on  "  subordi- 
nate" Tradition  ;  the  real  difference  being 
only  that  every  usurped  and  arbitrary 
power,  is  usually  exercised  with  compara- 
tive leniency  at  first,  till  it  has  been  well 
established.  Let  but  the  principle  which 
is  common  to  both  systems  be  estab- 
lished ;  and  the  one  may  be  easily  made 
to  answer  all  the  purposes  of  the  other. 

And  all  this  time  the  advocates  of  this 
authoritative  tradition  may  loudly  pro- 
claim that  they  require  no  assent  to  any 
thing  but  what  "may  be  proved  by 
Scripture  ;"  that  is,  proved  to  them  ;  and 
which,  on  the  ground  of  their  conviction, 
must  be  implicitly  received  by  every  man. 
It  is  most  important, — when  the  expres- 
sion is  used  of  "  referring  to  Scripture  as 
the  infallible  standard,"  and  requiring 
assent  to  such  points  of  faith  only  as  can 
be  thence  proved,  to  settle  clearly,  in  the 
outset,  the  important  question,  "proved 
to  whom  ?"  If  any  man  or  Body  of  men 
refer  us  to  Scripture,  as  the  sole  authori- 
tative standard,  meaning  that  we  are  not 
to  be  called  on  to  believe  any  thing  as  a 
necessary  point  of  faith,  on  their  word, 
but  only  on  pur  own  conviction  that  it  is 
scriptural,  then  they  place  our  faith  on 
the  basis,  not  of  human  authority,  but  of 
divine.  But  if  they  call  on  ws,  as  a  point 
of  conscience,  to  receive  whatever  is 
proved  to  their  satisfaction  from  Scrip- 
tures, even  though  it  may  appear  to  us 
unscriptural,  then,  instead  of  releasing  us 
from  the  usurped  authority  of  Man  taking 
the  place  of  God,  they  are  placing  on  us 


two  burdens  instead  of  one.  "  You  re- 
quire us,"  we  might  reply,  "  to  believe, 
first,  that  whatever  you  teach  is  true  ; 
and  secondly,  besides  this,  to  believe  also, 
that  it  is  a  truth  contained  in  Scripture ; 
and  we  are  to  take  your  word  for  both  !" 

§  26.  I  can  imagine  persons  urging,  in 
reply  to  what  has  been  said,  the  import- 
ance of  giving  the  people  religious  instruc- 
tion over  and  above  the  mere  reading  of 
Scripture — the  utility  of  explanations  and 
comments, — and  the  necessity  of  creeds 
and  catechisms,  &c.;  and  dwelling  also  on 
the  reverence  due  to  antiquity,  and  on  the 
arrogancy  of  disregarding  the  judgment 
of  pious  and  learned  men,  especially  of 
such  as  lived  in  or  near  the  times  of  the 
Apostles. 

It  is  almost  superfluous  to  remark  that 
nothing  at  variance  with  all  this  has  been 
here  advanced.  The  testimony  of  ancient 
writers  as  to  the  facts,  that  such  and  such 
doctrines  or  practices  did  or  did  not  pre- 
vail in  their  own  times,  or  that  such  and 
such  a  sense  was,  in  their  times,  conveyed 
by  certain  passages  of  Scripture,  may  often 
be  very  valuabte;  provided  we  keep  clear 
of  the  mistake  of  inferring,  either  that 
whatever  is  ancient  is  to  be  supposed 
apostolical,  or  even  necessarily,  in  accord- 
ance with  apostolical  teaching;  (as  if  er- 
rors had  not  crept  in,  even  during  the  life- 
time* of  the  Apostles,)  or  again,  that  every 
practice  and  regulation  that  really  had  the 
sanction  of  the  Apostles  (and  which,  there- 
fore, must  be  concluded  to  have  been  the 
best,  at  that  time)  was  designed  by  them, 
— when  they  abstained  [see  §  16]  from  re- 
cording it  in  writing, — to  be  of  universal 
and  eternal  obligation ; — in  short,  that 
they  entrusted  to  oral  Tradition  any  of  the 
essentials  of  Christianity.!  And,  again, 
the  opinions  of  any  author,  ancient  or 
modern,  are  entitled  to  respectful  consi- 
deration in  proportion  as  he  may  have 
been  a  sensible,  pious,  and  learned  man : 
provided  we  draw  the  line  distinctly  be- 
tween the  works  of  divine  messengers  in- 
spired from  above,  and  those  of  fallible 
men. 

But  what  is  the  object  (unless  it  be  to 


*  See  Appendix,  Note  (L.) 

•j-  And  yet  one  may  find  persons  defending  this 
view  by  alleging  that  we  have  the  Scriptures  them- 
selves by  Tradition.  Any  one  may  be  believed  to 
be  serious  in  urging  such  an  argument,  if  it  is 
found  that  he  places  as  much  confidence  in  the 
genuineness  of  some  account  that  has  been  trans- 
mitted from  mouth  to  mouth  by  popular  rumours 
from  one  end  of  the  kingdom  to  another,  as  in  a 
letter  that  has  been  transmitted  over  the  same  space. 
See  Appendix,  Note  (K.) 


54 


ALLEGED  IMPORTANCE  OF  HUMAN  TEACHERS. 


mystify  the  readers,  and  draw  off  their 
attention  from  the  real  question)  of  dwell- 
ing on  truths  which  are  universally  ad- 
mitted,* not  only  in  theory  but  in  practice, 
by  Christians  of  every  denomination  ?  Ca- 
techisms, oral  o*r  written, — expositions  of 


formable  to  each  other,  this  is  quite  dif- 
iferent  from  saying  that  either  of  them 
derives  all  its  authority  from  the  other. 
On  the  other  hand,  our  Reformers  do  not 
maintain  merely  that  the  Creeds  which 
they  receive  are  agreeable  to  Scripture ; 


Scripture — religious  discourses  or  tracts,  I  but  that  they  are  to  be  received  because 
of  some  kind  or  other,  Stc.,  are  in  use,  I  they  may  be  proved  from  Scripture, 
more  or  less,  among  all.     The  utility,  and  I      The  distinction,  as  I  have  above   re- 


indeed  necessity,  of  human  instruction, 
both  for  young  Christians  and  adults,  has 
never,  that  1  know  of,  been  denied  by  any 
Christian  Church  or  denomination.  The 
only  important  distinction  is  between  those 
who  do,  and  those  who  do  not,  permit, 
nnd  invite,  and  encourage  their  hearers  to 
'•'search  the  Scriptures  whether  these 
things  be  so,"  which  they  are  taught  by 
their  pastors. 

It  Is  to  be  observed,  however,  that  what 
J  am  speaking  of  is  a  reference  to  Scrip- 
ture, as  the  sole  basis  of  the  articles  of 
necessary  faith, — the  only  decisive  au- 
thority. 

Some  persons,  while  claiming  reception 
for  such  and  such  confessions  of  faith, 


marked,  is  apparent  only,  and  not  really 
important,  between  those  who  require  the 
acceptance  of  what  they  teach,  independ- 
ently of  Scripture,  and  those  who  do  refer 
to-  Scripture  as  the  ground  of  their  oivn 
conviction,  or  at  least  as  confirmatory  of 
their  teaching,  but  require  their  interpre- 
tations of  Scripture  to  be  implicitly  re- 
ceived ;  denying  to  individuals  the  right 
and  the  duty*  of  judging  ultimately  for 
themselves.  The  real  distinction  is  be- 
tween those  who  do,  and  those  who  do 
not  recognize  this  right  and  duty.  For 
if  a  certain  comment  is  to  be  received  im- 
plicitly and  without  appeal,  it  not  only  is 
placed,  practically,  as  far  as  relates  to  every 
thing  except  a  mere  question  of  dignity, 


declare  continually  and  with  much  earnest-  I  on  a  level  with  Scripture,!  but  has  also  a 
ness,  that  they  are  teaching  nothing  but  I  strong — and  as  experience  has  abundantly 
what  is  "  conformable  to  Scripture,"  j  proved, — an  increasing  tendency  to  super- 
"  agreeable  to  Scripture,"  &,c.  And  the  sede  it.  A  regular  and  compact  system 


unwary  are  often  misled  by  not  attending 
to  the  important  distinction  between  this, 
— between  what  is  simply  agreeable  to 
Scripture, — and  what  is  derived  from 
Scripture, — founded  on  it,  and  claiming 
no  other  authority. 

When  it  is  said  that  the  Old  Testament 
and  the  New  are  not  at  variance^  but  con- 
It  is  no  uncommon  practice  with  some  writers, 


of  theology,  professedly  compiled  from 
Scripture,  or  from  "Scripture  and  Tradi- 
tion blended  together," J  if  it  be  that  which, 
after  all,  we  must  acquiesce  in  as  infallible, 
whether  it  accord  or  not  with  what  ap- 
pears to  us  to  be  the  sense  of  Scripture, 
being  more  compendious  and  methodical 
than  the  Sacred  Books  themselves,  will 
naturally  be  preferred  by  the  learner.  And 
all  study,  properly  so  called,  of  the  rest  of 


to  shelter  (as  in  the  present  instance)  some  para-    Scripture       (for  o"u  lhe  above  supposition, 

<1ivirif»a1    fpnpf    whpn    rmnnspil    nmlpr  thp.    mil  SB    of   ;  V  f* 

such  a  comment  would  be  itself  a  part  oi 
Scripture,  infallible  and  divinely  inspired, 
as  much  as  the  rest) — all  lively  interest  in 


doxical  tenet,  when  opposed,  under  the  guise  of 
a  truism,-  and,  when  this  has  been  admitted  with- 
out suspicion,  to  unmask  the  battery  as  it  were, 
and  by  a  seemingly  slight  change,  to  convert  a 
self-evident  and  insignificant  truth  into  a  dogma 
of  fearful  importance.  Thus  for  instance,  when 
we  are  sometimes  told,  with  much  solemn  earnest- 
ness, of  the  importance  of  holding  fast  "  the  faith 
of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church,"  this  is  explained 


can  think  of  denying  that  what  has  always  been 
held  universally  by  all  Christians  as  a  part  of  their 


*  See  Dr.  Hawkins  on  the  Duty  of  Private 
Judgment.  ' 

•f  Among  the  Parliamentarians  at  the  time  of 

being  «  what  has  been  held  by  all  Christians,  j  the  Civil  War,  there  were  many, — at  first  a  great 
always,  and  every  where:"  ["quod  semper,  quod  '.  majority, — who  professed  to  obey  the  King's  com- 
ubique,  quod  ab  omnibus:"]  and  of  course  no  one  ;  marids,  as  notified  to  them  by  Parliament,  and 

levied  forces  in  the  King's  name,  against  his  per- 
son.    If  any  one  admitted  Parliament  to  be  the 

faith,  must  be  a  part  of  the  universal  [or  Catholic]  !  sole  and  authoritative  interpreter  and  expounder 
faith.  There  "  needs  no  ghost  to  tell  us  that ;"  as  ;  of  the  regal  commands,  and  this,  without  any  check 
it  is  in  fact  only  saying  that  "  Catholic"  means  from  any  other  power,  it  is  plain  that  he  virtually 
"  Universal,"  and  that  what  is  believed  is  believed,  admitted  the  sovereignty  of  that  Parliament,  just 
But  when  the  wooden  horse  has  been  introduced,  as  much  as  if  he  had  recognized  their  formal  de- 
it  is  found  to  contain  armed  men  concealed  within  ;  position  of  the  King.  The  parallelism  of  this  case 
it.  "All  Christians"  is  explained  to  mean  "all 
the  orthodox;"  and  the  "orthodox"  to  be,  those 
in  agreement  with  the  authors  who  are  instruct- 


ing us. 


with  the  one  before  us  is  too  obvious  to  need  being 
dwelt  on. 

+  See   Essay  (Third  Series)  on  "Undue  Re- 
liance on  Human  Authority." 


THE  SYSTEM  OF  RESERVE. 


the  perusal, — would  be  nearly  superseded 
by  such  an  inspired  compendium  of  doc- 
trine; to  which  alone,  as  being  far  the 
most  convenient  for  that  purpose,  habitual 
reference  would  be  made  in  any  question 
that  might  arise.  Both  would  be  regard- 
ed, indeed,  as  of  divine  authority ;  but  the 
compendium,  as  the  fused  and  purified 
metal;  the  other,  as  the  mine,  containing 
the  crude  ore. 

§  27.  The  uses  are  so  important,  and 
the  abuses  so  dangerous,  of  the  instruc- 
tion which  may  be  afforded  by  uninspired 
Christian  teachers,  that  it  may  be  worth 
while  still  farther  to  illustrate  the  subject 
by  an  analogy,  homely  perhaps  and  un- 
dignified, but  which  appears  to  me  per- 
fectly apposite,  and  fitted  by  its  very  fa- 
miliarity to  answer  the  better  its  purpose 
of  affording  explanation. 

The  utility  of  what  is  called  paper 
currency  is  universally  acknowledged  and 
perceived.  Without  possessing  any  in- 
trinsic value,  it  is  a  convenient  representa- 
tive of  coins  and  ingots  of  the  precious 
metals.  And  it  possesses  this  character, 
from  its  being  known  or  confidently  be- 
lieved, that  those  who  issue  it  are  ready, 
on  demand,  to  exchange  it  for  those  pre- 
cious metals.  And  the  occurrence,  from 
time  to  time,  of  this  demand,  and  the 
constant  liability  to  it,  are  the  great  check 
to  an  over  issue  of  the  paper  money. 
But  if  paper  money  be  made  a  legal  tender 
and  not  convertible  into  gold  and  silver  at 
the  pleasure  of  the  holder — if  persons  are 
required  to  receive  it  in  payment,  by  an 
arbitrary  decree  of  the  Government,  either 
that  paper  shall  be  considered  as  having 
an  intrinsic  value,  or  again,  that  it  shall 
be  considered  as  representing  bullion,  or 
land,"  or  some  other  intrinsically  valuable 
commodity,  the  existence  and  amount  of 
which,  and  the  ability  of  Government  to 
produce  it,  are  to  be  believed,  not  by  the 
test  of  any  one's  demanding  and  obtain- 
ing payment,  but  on  the  word  of  the  very 
government  that  issues  this  inconverti- 
ble paper  currency,  then  the  conse- 
quences which  ensue  are  well  known. 
The  precious  metals  gradually  disappear, 
and  a  profusion  of  worthless  paper  alone 
remains. 

Even  so  it  is  with  human  teaching  in 
religion.  It  is  highly  useful,  as  long  as 
the  instructors  refer  the  People  to  Scrip- 
ture, exhorting  and  assisting  them  to 
"  prove  all  things  and  hold  fast  that  which 


*  This  was  the  case  with  the  Assignats   and 
Mandats  of  France. 


55 

is  right;" — as  long  as  the  Church  "or- 
dains nothing  contrary  to  God's  word," 
|  — nothing,  in  short,  beyond  what  a  Chris- 
tian Community  is  authorized  both  by 
the  essential  character  of  a  Community, 
and  by  Christ's  sanction,  to  enact;  and 
requires  nothing  to  be  believed  as  a  point 
of  Christian  faith  "  that  may  not  be  de- 
clared"* (i.  e.  satisfactorily  proved)  to  be 
taken  from  Holy  Scripture.  But  when  a 
Church  or  any  of  its  Pastors  ceases  to 
make  this  payment  on  demand — if  1  may 
so  speak — of  Scripture-proof,^  and  re- 
quires implicit  faith,  on  human  authority, 
in  human  dogmas  or  interpretations,  all 
check  is  removed  to  the  introduction  of 
any  conceivable  amount  of  falsehood  and 
superstition ;  till  human  inventions  may 
have  overlaid  and  disfigured  Gospel  truth, 
and  Man's  usurped  authority  have  gradu- 
ally superseded  divine :  even  as  was  the 
case  with  the  rabbinical  Jews,  who  con- 
tinued to  profess  the  most  devout  rever- 
ence for  the  Mosaic  Law,  even  at  the  time 
when  we  are  told  that  "  in  vain  they 
worshipped  God,  teaching  for  doctrines 
the  commandments  of  men.''J 

§  28.  It  is  worth  remarking  also  that 
the  persons  who  make  this  use  of  Tradi- 
tion are  often  found  distinctly  advocating 
the  deliberate  suppression,  in  the  instruc- 
tion of  the  great  mass  of  Christians,  of  a 
large  portion  of  the  Gospel  doctrines 
which  are  the  most  earnestly  set  forth  in 
Scripture ;  as  a  sort  of  esoteric  mystery, 
of  which  ordinary  believers  are  unworthy, 
and  which  should  be  "reserved"  as  a 
reward  for  a  long  course  of  pious  sub- 
mission. This  system  of  "  reserve"  or 
"economy"  is  vindicated,  by  studiously 
confounding  it  with  the  gradual  initia- 
tion of  Christians  in  the  knowledge  of 
their  religion,  in  proportion  as  they  are 
"  able  to  bear  it ;"  i.  e.  able  and  willing 
to  understand  each  point  that  is  presented 
to  their  minds :  and  the  necessity  of  gra- 
dual teaching, — of  reading  the  first  line 
of  a  passage  before  the  second, — and  the 
care  requisite  to  avoid  teaching  any  thing 
which,  though  true  in  itself,  would  be 
falsely  understood  by  the  hearers,  is  thus 
confounded  with  the  system  of  withhold- 
ing a  portion  of  Gospel  truth  from  those 


*  The  Word  "  declared"  is  likely  to  mislead 
the  English  reader,  from  its  being  ordinarily  used 
in  the  present  day  in  a  different  sense.  The  Latin 
"  declarare"  of  which  it  was  evidently  intended  to 
to  be  a  translation,  signifies  « to  make  clear" — "  to 
set  forth  plainly." 

j  See  Appendix,  Note  (M.) 

|  See  Dr.  Hawkins  on  Tradition. 


56 


THE  SYSTEM  OF  RESERVE. 


able  and  willing  to  receive  it ; — the  sys- 
tem of  "  shunning  to  set  before  men  all 
the  counsel  of  God,"  and  of  having  one 
kind  of  religion  for  the  initiated  few,  and 
another  for  the  mass  of  the  Christian 
World.  Very  different  was  the  Apostle 
Paul's  Gospel,  which  he  assures  us,  if  it 
was  hid,  was  hid  from  them  that  are 
lost,"  (men  on  the  road  to  destruction, 
uTroXhvptvovt;,}  "  whom  the  god  of  this 
world  hath  blinded." 

But  the  charge  of  teaching  something 
different  from  what  they  inwardly  believe, 
the  advocates  of  this  system  repel,  by 
alleging  that  all  they  do  teach  is  agree- 
able to  Scripture,  although  they  withhold 
a  part,  and  do  not  teach  all  that  is  to  be 
found  in  Scripture :  as  if  this  did  not  as 
effectually  constitute  two  different  reli- 
gions as  if  they  had  added  on  something 
of  their  own.  For,  by  expunging  or  sup- 
pressing at  pleasure,  that  which  remains 
may  become  totally  different  from  what 


whether  alone  or  "blended  with  Scrip- 
ture," so,  he  ought  not  to  insist  on  the 
acceptance,  as  essential,  of  any  thing 
which,  even  though  it  may  be  satisfac- 
torily proved  from  Scripture,  yet  it  is  so 
slightly  hinted  at  there,  that  till  attention 
has  been  called  to  it,  and  the  arguments 
by  which  it  is  supported  brought  toge- 
ther, whole  Churches  for  whole  genera- 
tions together  may  have  studied  Scrip- 
ture without  finding  it.  I  do  not  say  that 
nothing  of  this  character  should  be  main- 
tained, and  supported  by  arguments 
which  may  satisfactorily  prove  it;  but  it 
should  not  be  maintained  as  something 
necessary  to  Salvation,  unless  it  is  clearly 
revealed  to  an  ordinary  reader  of  candid 
mind. 

For  instance,  there  are  some  who  think 
that  an  intermediate  state  of  conscious- 
ness,— and  others,  of  unconsciousness, — 
between  death  and  the  resurrection, — 
may  be  proved  from  Scripture;  but  I 


the  religion  would  have  been  if  exhibited  cannot  think  it  justifiable  to  represent 
as  a  whole.  either  opinion  as  an  essential  article  of 

It  has  been  remarked  that  every  statue  !  faith. 

existed  in  the  block  of  marble  from  I  Again,  the  call  of  the  Gentiles  to  be 
which  it  was  carved  ;  and  that  the  Sculp-  |  partakers  with  the  Jews  of  the  privileges 
tor  merely  discloses  it,  by  removing  the  j  of  God's  People,  and  the  termination  of 
superfluous  portions  ; — that  the  Medicean  i  the  Mosaic  dispensation,  are  contained, 


Venus,  for  instance,  has  not  in  it  a  single 
particle   which  did    not   originally  exist 


but  not  clearly  revealed,  in  the  Old  Tes- 
tament,  and    in    the   discourses    of  our 


exactly  in  the  same  relative  position  as  Lord  ;  these  doctrines  are  not  so  obviously 
now ;  the  artist  having  added  nothing,  I  contained  there,  as  to  make  them  an 
but  merely  taken  away.  Yet  the  statue  is  essential  part  of  the  Jewish  faith.  This, 


as  widely  different  a  thing  from  the  origi- 
nal block,  as  if  something  had  been 
added.  What  should  we  think  of  a  man's 
pleading  that  such  an  image  is  not  con- 
templated in  the  commandment  against 
making  an  image,  because  it  is  not 
"  made,"  as  if  it  had  been  moulded,  or  cast, 
out  of  materials  brought  together  for  the 
purpose  ?  Should  any  one  scruple  to 
worship  a  moulded,  but  not  a  sculptured 
image,  his  scruple  would  not  be  more 
absurdly  misplaced,  than  if  he  should 
hold  himself  bound,  in  his  teaching,  not 
to  add  on  to  Scripture  any  thing  he  did 
not  believe  to  be  true,  but  allowed  to  sup- 
press any  portions  of  Gospel  truth  at  his 
pleasure,  and  to  exhibit  to  his  People  the 
remaining  portions,  as  the  whole  system 
of  their  religion. 

It  may  be  added  also,  that  as  a  Chris- 
tian teacher  is  not  authorized  either  to 
suppress  any  portion  of  the  Gospel  as 
unfit  for  those  disposed  and  able  to  re- 
ceive it,  or  to  inculcate  as  an  essential 
portion  of  it,  any  thing  not  revealed  in 
Scripture,  but  dependent  on  Tradition, 


therefore,  was  a  case  in  which  a  fresh 
and  distinct  declaration,  supported  by 
miraculous  evidence,  was  fairly  to  be  ex- 
pected :  and  this  was  accordingly  afforded. 
A  distinct  miraculous  revelation  was  made 
to  the  Apostle  Peter  as  to  this  very 
point.* 

§  29.  In  saying  that  the  essential  doc- 
trines of  Christianity  are  to  be  found  m 
Scripture,  or  may  be  satisfactorily  proven 
from  it,  and  that  the  enactments  of  any 
Church,  with  a  view  to  good  government, 
"  decency  and  order,"  derive  a  sufficient 
authority  from  that  very  circumstance,  in- 
asmuch as  the  Apostle  commands  us  to 
"  do  all  things  decently  and  in  order," 
and  our  Heavenly  Master  has  given  power 
to  "bind  and  loose"  in  respect  to  such 
regulations,  I  do  not  mean  to  imply  that 
such  reasons  always  will,  in  fact,  prove 
satisfactory  to  careless  and  uncandid  rea- 
soners — to  the  fanciful,  the  wilful,  and 


*  According  to  our  Lord's  promise  respecting 
the  Holy  Spirit : — He  shall  teach  you  all  things, 
and  bring  all  things  to  your  remembrance,"  &c. 


UNSOUND  REASONS  IN  AID  OF  SOUND  ONES. 


the  arrogant.  But  nothing-  is  in  reality 
gained  by  endeavouring  to  add  force  to 
sound  reasons  by  the  addition  of  unsound 
ones.  To  seek,  when  men  will  not  lis- 
ten to  valid  arguments,  for  some  other 
arguments  which  they  will  listen  to  will, 
I  am  convinced,  (to  say  nothing  of  its  un- 
fairness,) be  found  in  the  end  to  be  un- 
wise policy. 

Yet  I  cannot  but  suspect  that  the  prin- 
ciples I  have  been  deprecating  must  have 
been  sometimes  maintained  by  persons 
not  altogether  blind  to  the  inconsistent 
consequences  they  lead  to,  but  actuated 
by  a  desire  of  impressing  on  the  minds 
of  the  multitude  not  only  an  additional 
confidence  in  the  doctrines  of  our  Church, 
but  also  that  reverence,  which  is  so  often 
found  to  be  deficient,  for  Church  institu- 
tions and  enactments,  and  for  regularly 
ordained  Christian  Ministers:  and  that 
they  have  been  influenced  by  a  dread  of 
certain  consequences  as  following  from 
an  adherence  to  what  I  have  pointed  out 
as  the  only  sound  and  secure  principles.* 

For  instance,  it  has  been  thought  dan- 
gerous to  acknowledge  a  power  in  any 
Body  of  uninspired  men  to  depart  in  the 
smallest  degree  from  the  recorded  prece- 
dents of  the  earliest  Churches  :  including 
(be  it  remembered  by  the  way)  those  ex- 
isting after  the  times  of  the  Apostles,  and 
therefore  consisting,  themselves,  of  unin- 
spired men.  And  a  danger  there  certainly 
is  ;  a  danger  of  the  mis-use  of  any  power, 
privilege,  or  liberty,  trusted  to  any  one. 

*  For  instance,  the  view  taken  (see  Thoughts 
on  the  Sabbath}  of  the  Lord's  Day,  as  a  Church 
festival  observed  in  memory  of  Christ's  resurrec- 
tion on  the  first  day  of  the  week,  and  not  in  com- 
pliance with  the  Mosaic  Law,  I  have  seen  objected 
to,  on  the  ground  that  "  men  are  apt  not  to  pay  so 
much  deference  to  the  enactments  of  the  Church, 
as  to  express  commands  of  Scripture."  That  is 
to  say,  although  the  Mosaic  Law  be  not  really 
binding  on  Christians  (for,  if  it  were,  and  the  ob- 
servance of  the  Lord's  day  were  a  part  of  it,  that 
would  supersede  all  need  of  other  arguments)  yet 
it  is  advisable  to  teach  men  that  it  is,  in  order  that 
they  may  be  the  more  ready  to  observe  the  Lord's 
Day.  The  Church  therefore  is  to  be  represented, — 
and  that  to  men  who,  by  supposition,  are  dis- 
posed to  undervalue  Church  authority, — as  hav- 
ing taken  the  liberty  to  alter  a  divine  command- 
ment of  acknowledged  obligation,  by  changing 
the  seventh  day  of  the  week  to  the  first  (besides 
alterations  in  the  mode  of  observance)  in  compli- 
ance with  a  supposed  tradition,  that  the  Apostles 
sanctioned — which  it  is  plain  from  Scripture  they 
did  not — this  transference  of  the  Sabbath.  This 
is  surely  expecting  an  unreasonable  deference  for 
Church  authority  from  men  who,  it  is  supposed, 
are  unwilling  to  yield  to  it  such  a  deference  as  is 
reasonable . 

H 


|  The  Christian  course  is  beset  by  dangers, 
i  They  are  an  essential  part  of  our  trial  on 
I  Earth.     We  are  required  to  be   on  our 
I  guard  against  them  ;  but  we  must  never 
expect,  here   below,  to  be  exempt  from 
them.     And  there  is  nothing  necessarily 
gained  by  exchanging  one  danger  for  an- 
other; the  danger  of  erring  in  our  own 
judgment,  for  that  of  following  imperfect, 
uncertain  or  corrupted  traditions. 

But  to  maintain  the  right  of  any  Com- 
munity— a  Church  among  others — to  es- 
tablish, abrogate,  or  alter,  regulations  and 
institutions  of  any  kind,  is  understood 
by  some  as  amounting  to  an  approval  of 
every  thing  that  either  ever  has  been  done, 
or  conceivably  might  be  done,  by  virtue 
of  that  claim ;  as  if  a  sanction  were  thus 
given  to  perpetual  changes,  the  most  rash, 
uncalled  for,  and  irrational.  But  what 
is  left  to  men's  discretion,  is  not  therefore 
meant  to  be  left  to  their  indiscretion.  To 
maintain  that  a  power  exists,  is  not  to 
maintain  either  that  it  matters  not  how  it 
is  used,  or  again  that  it  cannot  possibly 
be  abused. 

The  absurdity  of  such  a  mode  of  rea- 
soning would  be  at  once  apparent  in  any 
other  case.  For  instance,  the  Senate, 
Parliament,  or  other  legislative  Body  of 
this  or  any  other  country,  has  clearly  a 
right  to  pass  or  to  reject  any  proposed 
law  that  is  brought  before  it ;  and  has,  an 
equal  right  to  do  the  one  or  the  other ; 
now  no  one  in  his  senses  would  under- 
stand by  this,  that  it  is  equally  right  to  do 
the  one  or  the  other : — that  whatever  is 
left  to  the  legislator's  decision,  must  be  a 
matter  of  absolute  indifference ;  and  that 
whatever  is  to  be  determined  by  his  judg- 
ment, may  fairly  be  determined  according 
to  his  caprice. 

A  Church, — and  the  same  may  be  said 
of  a  State, — may  so  far  abuse  its  power, 
and  exceed  the  just  limits  of  that  power, 
as  to  make  enactments  which  a  man  may 
be  bound  in  conscience  to  disobey ;  as, 
for  instance,  if  either  an  ecclesiastical  or 
civil  Government  should  command  men 
(as  the  Roman  Emperors  did  the  early 
Christians)  to  join  in  acts  of  idolatrous 
worship ;  or  (as  was  done  towards  the 
'  Saxon  Clergy)  to  put  away  their  wives. 
But  this  does  not  do  away  the  truth  of 
the  general  assertion  that  u  the  Powers 
that  be  are  ordained  of  God  ;" — that  both 
civil  and  ecclesiastical  Governments  have 
a  right  to  make  enactments  that  are  not 
I  contrary  to  religion  or  morality. 

And  again;  even  these  enactments, — 
such  as  a  State  or  a  Church  does  possess 


DIFFICULTY  OF  ASCERTAINING  UNBROKEN  SUCCESSION. 


a  right  to  make,' — it  is  not  only  conceiv- 
able, but  highly  probable,  that  there  will 
be  some  which  may  appear  to  many  per- 
sons, and  perhaps  with  reason,  to  be  not 
the  very  wisest  and  best.  In  such  a  case, 
a  man  is  bound  to  do  his  best  towards 
the  alteration  of  those  laws:*  but  he  is 
not,  in  the  mean  time,  exempted  from 
obedience  to  laws  which  he  may  not  fully 
approve/f  For  supposing  his  objections 
to  any  Jaw  to  be  well  founded,  still,  as 
infallibility  does  not  exist  among  men, 
all  Professions  and  precepts  relative  to 
the  duty  of  submission  to  Government 
would  be.  nugatory,  if  that  duty  were  to 
be  suspended  and  remain  in  abeyance,  till 
an  unerring  government  should  arise. 

If  any  one,  accordingly,  is  convinced 
that  a  certain  Church  is  essentially  tin- 
scriptural,  he  cannot  with  a  sound  con- 
science belong  to  its  communion.  But 
he  may  consistently  adhere  to  it,  even 
though  he  should  be  of  opinion  that  in 
some  non-essential  points  it  has  adopted  j 
regulations  which  are  not  the  most  expe- 
dient. He  may  still  consistently  hold 
these  to  be  binding,  as  coming  from  a 
competent  authority;  though  he  may 
wish  that  they  had  been,  or  that  they 
should  be,  settled  otherwise. 

§  30.  But  as  there  are  some  persons 
who  are  too  ready  to  separate  from  any 
religious  Community  on  slight  grounds, 
or  even  through  mere  caprice,  to  "heap 
up  to  themselves  teachers,  having  itching 
ears,"  it  has  been  thought, — or  at  least 
maintained, — that  the  only  way  of  afford- 
ing complete  satisfaction  and  repose  to 
the  scrupulous,  and  of  repressing  schism, 
is  to  uphold,  under  the  title  of  "Church 
principles,"  the  doctrine  that  no  one  is  a 
member  of  Christ's  Church,  and  an  heir 
of  the  covenanted  Gospel  promises,  who 
is  not  under  a  Ministry  ordained  by 
Bishops  descended  in  an  unbroken  chain 
from  the  Apostles. 

Now  what  is  the  degree  of  satisfactory 
assurance  that  is  thus  afforded  to  the  | 
scrupulous  consciences  of  any  members 
of  an  Episcopal  Church  ?  If  a  man  con- 
sider it  as  highly  probable  that  the  par- 
ticular Minister  at  whose  hands  he  re- 
ceives the  sacred  Ordinances  is  really  thus  ! 
apostolically  descended,  this  is  the  very 
utmost  point  to  which  he  can,  with  any 
semblance  of  reason,  attain :  and  the  more 
he  reflects  and  inquires,  the  more  cause 
for  hesitation  he  will  find.  There  is  not 

*  See  "  Appeal  in  behalf  of  Church  Govern- 
ment;" (Houlston;)  a  very  able  pamphlet. 
|  See  Sermon  on  Obedience  to  Laws. 


|  a  Minister  in  all  Christendom  who  is  able 
I  to  trace  up  with  any  approach  to  certainty 
I  his  own  spiritual  pedigree.  The  sacra- 
mental virtue  (for  such  it  is,  that  is  im- 
plied,— whether  the  term  be  used  or  not 
in  the  principle  I  have  been  speaking  of) 
dependent  on  the  imposition  of  hands, 
with  a  due  observance  of  apostolical 
usages,  by  a  Bishop,  himself  duly  conse- 
crated, after  having  been  in  like  manner 
baptized  into  the  Church,  and  ordained 
Deacon  and  Priest, — this  sacramental 
virtue,  if  a  single  link  of  the  chain  be 
faulty,  must,"  on  the  above  principles,  be 
utterly  nullified  ever  after,  in  respect  of 
all  the  links  that  hang  on  that  one.  For 
if  a  Bishop  has  not  been  duly  consecrated, 
or  had  not  been,  previously,  rightly 
ordained,  his  Ordinations  are  null  •,  and 
so  are  the  ministrations  of  those  ordained 
by  him;  and  their  Ordination  of  others; 
(supposing  any  of  the  persons  ordained 
by  him  to  attain  to  the  episcopal  office) 
and  so  on,  without  end.  The  poisonous 
taint  of  informality,  if  it  once  creep  in  un- 
detected, will  spread  the  infection  of  nullity 
to  an  indefinite  and  irremediable  extent. 

And  who  can  undertake  to  pronounce 
that  during  that  long  period  usually  de- 
signated as  the  Dark  Ages,  no  such  taint 
ever  was  introduced  ?  Irregularities  could 
not  have  been  wholly  excluded  without 
a  perpetual  miracle;  and  that  no  such 
miraculous  interference  existed,  we  have 
even  historical  proof.  Amidst  the  nume- 
rous corruptions  of  doctrine  and  of  prac- 
tice, and  gross  superstitions,  that  crept  in, 
during  those  ages,  we  find  recorded  de- 
scriptions not  only  of  the  profound  ig- 
norance and  profligacy  of  life,  of  many 
of  the  Clergy,  but  also  of  the  grossest 
irregularities  in  respect  of  discipline  ^and 
form.  We  read  of  Bishops  consecrated 
when  mere  children ; — of  men  officiating 
who  barely  knew  their  letters — of  Pre- 
lates expelled,  and  others  put  into  their 
places,  by  violence; — of  illiterate  and 
profligate  laymen,  and  habitual  drunkards, 
admitted  to  Holy  Orders;  and  in  short, 
of  the  prevalence  of  every  kind  of  dis- 
order, and  reckless  disregard  of  the  de- 
cency which  the  Apostle  enjoins.  It  is 
inconceivable  that  any  one  even  mode- 
rately acquainted  with  history,  can  feel  a 
certainty,  or  any  approach  to  certainty, 
that,  amidst  all  this  confusion  and  cor- 
ruption, every  requisite  form  was,  in  every 
instance,  strictly  adhered  to,  by  men, 
many  of  them  openly  profane  and  secular, 
unrestrained  by  public  opinion,  through 
the  gross  ignorance  of  the  population 


DIFFICULTY  OF  ASCERTAINING  UNBROKEN  SUCCESSION. 


59 


among  which  they  lived;  and  that  no  one  ;      It  is  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  the  ad- 
not    dul      consecrated   or    ordained  was    vocates  of  this  theory  studiously  disparage 


admitted  to  sacred  offices. 


reasoning,  deprecate  all  exercise  of  the 


Even  in  later  and  more  civilized  and  mind  in  reflection,  decry  appeals  to  evi- 

enlightened  times,  the  probability  of  an  dence,  and  lament  that  even  the  power  of 

irregularity,  though  very  greatly  dimin-  reading  should  be  imparted  to  the  People. 

ished,  is   yet  diminished   only,  and  not  It  is  not  without  cause  that  they  dread 

absolutely  destroyed.     Even  in  the  me-  and  lament  "  an  Age  of  too  much  light," 

niory  of  persons  living,  there  existed  a  and  wish  to  involve  religion  in  "  a  solemn 

Bishop  concerning  whom  there  was  so  and  awful   gloom."*     It  is  not  without 

much  mystery  and  uncertainty  prevailing  cause  that,  having  removed  the  Christian's 

as    to  when,  where,  and    by   whom    he  confidence    from    a    rock,  to  base  it   on 

had  been  ordained,  that  doubts  existed  in  |  sand,  they  forbid  all  prying  curiosity  to 

the  mind,  of  many  persons  whether  he  examine  their  foundation. 

had  ever  been  ordained  at  all.     I  do  not  •    The  fallacy,  indeed,  by  which,  accord- 


say  that  there  was  good  ground  for  the    ing  to  the  above  principl 
suspicion  :  but  I  speak  of  the  fact,  that  it   is  taught  to  rest  his  ow 


les,  the  Christian 
own  personal  hopes 

did  prevail ;  and  that  the  circumstances  of  salvation  on  the  individual  claims  to 
of  the  case  were  such  as  to  make  manifest  j  u  Apostolical  succession"  of  the  particular 
the  possibility  of  such  an  irregularity  oc-  |  Minister  he  is  placed  under,  is  one  so 
curring  under  such  circumstances.  j  gross  that  few  are  thoughtless  enough  to 

Now,  let  any  one  proceed  on  the  hy-  j  be  deceived  by  it  in  any  case  where  Re- 
pothesis  that  there  are,  suppose,  but  a  :  ligion  is  not  concerned  ; — where,  in  short, 
hundred  links  connecting  any  particular  j  a  man  has  not  been  taught  to  make  a  vir- 
minister  with  the  Apostles,  and  let  him  i  tue  of  uninquiring,  unthinking  acquies- 
even  suppose  that  not  above  half  of  this  cence.  For  the  fallacy  consists  in  con- 
number  pass  through  such  periods  as  ad-  founding  together  the  unbroken  Aposto- 
mit  of  any  possible  irregularity ;  and  \  lical  succession  of  a  Christian  Ministry 
then,  placing  at  the  lowest  estimate  the  j  generally,  and  the  same  succession,  in  an 

unbroken  line,  of  this  or  that  individual 
Minister.     The  existence  of  such  an  Or- 

rately,  let  him  consider  what  amount  of  der  of  Men  as  Christian  Ministers,  con- 
probability  will  result  from  the  multiply-  |  tinuously  from  the  time  of  the  Apostles 
ing  of  the  whole  together.*  The  ulti- 1  to  this  day,  is  perhaps  as  complete  a 
mate  consequence  must  be,  that  any  one  |  moral  certainty,  as  any  historical  fact  can 
who  sincerely  believes  that  his  claim  to  j  be  ;  because  (independently  of  the  various 
the  benefits  of  tiie  Gospel-Covenant  de-  incidental  notices  by  historians,  of  such 
pends  on  his  own  Minister's  claim  to  the  a  class  of  persons)  it  is  plain  that  if,  at 
supposed  sacramental  virtue  of  true  Or- 
dination, and  this  again,  on  perfect  Apos- 
tolical Succession  as  above  described, 

must  be  involved,  in  proportion  as  he  j  Clergy  do  now)  to  hold  a  recognized  of- 
reads,  and  inquires,  and  reflects,  and  rea-  i  fice  in  a  Christian  Church,  to  which  they 


probability  of  defectiveness  in  respect  of 
each  of  the  remaining  fifty,  taken  sepa- 


the  present  day,  or  a  century  ago,  or  ten 
centuries  ago,  a  number  of  men  had  ap- 
peared in  the  world,  professing  (as  our 


sons  on  the  subject,  in  the  most  distress- 
ing doubt  and  perplexity. 


it  to  be  one   hundred  to  one,  in 


had  been  regularly  appointed  as  succes- 
sors to  others,  whose  predecessors,  in 
like  manner,  had  held  the  same,  and  so 
on,  from  the  time  of  the  Apostles, — if,  I 

•^<-»  L'L«\roi.i  tii    j.v    i-v     tj*s     vii*>      nuiJLUtr-u.     IA^     i.'nu,     in  lit  f*  i 

each  separate  case,  in  favour  of  the  legitimacy  and  say,  such  a  pretence  had  been  put  forth 
regularity  of  the  transmission,  and  the  links  to  by  a  set  of  men  assuming  an  office  which 
amount  to  fifty,  (or  any  other  number)  the  pro-  j  no  one  had  ever  heard  of  before, — it  is 
liability  of  the  unbroken  continuity  of  the  whole  !  plain  that  they  would  at  once  have  been 

°r^n  ,nnl!st*be  co"f*te<1Ja;  9U9-10U°  'f99-1,??  refuted  and  exposed  And  as  this  will 
of  99-100,  <fec.,  to  the  end  of  the  whole  fifty.  Of  i  n  , 

course,  if  different  data  are  assumed,  or  a  different  apply  equally  to  each  Successive  genera- 
system  is  adopted  of  computing  the  rate  at  which  i  tlon  of  Christian  Ministers,  till  we  come 

the  uncertainty  increases  at  each  step,  the  ultimate  up  to  the  time  when  the  institution  was 
result  will  be  different  as  to  the  degree  of  uncer-  j  confessedly  new, — that  is,  to  the  time 
tainty  ;  but  when  once  it  is  made  apparent  that  a  w]ien  Christian  Ministers  were  appointed 

by 


considerable  and  continually    increasing    uncer- 
tainty does  exist,  and  that  the  result  must  be,  in 


respect  of  any  individual  case,  a  matter  of  chance, 
it  can  be  of  no  great  consequence  to  ascertain 
precisely  what  the  chances  are  on  each  side. 


Apostles,  who    professed    them- 
selves eye-witnesses  of  the  Resurrection, 


60 


DIFFICULTY  OF  ASCERTAINING  UNBROKEN  SUCCESSION. 


we  have  (as  Leslie  has  remarked*)  a 
standing  Monument,  in  the  Christian 
Ministry,  of  the  fact  of  that  event  as 
having  been  proclaimed  immediately  after 
the  time  when  it  was  said  to  have  occur- 
red. This  therefore  is  fairly  brought  for- 
ward as  an  evidence  of  its  truth. 

But  if  each  man's  Christian  hope  is 
made  to  rest  on  his  receiving  the  Chris- 
tian Ordinances  at  the  hands  of  a  Minis- 
ter to  whom  the  sacramental  virtue  that 
gives  efficacy  to  those  Ordinances  has 
been  transmitted  in  unbroken  succession 
from  hand  to  hand,  every  thing  must  de- 
pend on  that  particular  Minister  :  and  his 
claim  is  by  no  means  established  from  our 
merely  establishing  the  uninterrupted  ex- 
istence of  such  a  class  of  men  as  Chris- 
tian Ministers.  "  You  teach  me,"  a  man 
might  say,  "  that  my  salvation  depends  on 
the  possession  by  you — the  particular 
Pastor  under  whom  I  am  placed — of  a 
certain  qualification  \  and  when  I  ask  for 
the  proof  that  you  possess  it,  you  prove 
to  me  that  it  is  possessed  generally,  by  a 
certain  class  of  persons  of  whom  you 
are  one,  and  probably  by  a  large  majority 
of  them !"  How  ridiculous  it  would 
be  thought,  if  a  man  laying  claim  to  the 
throne  of  some  Country  should  attempt 
to  establish  it  without  producing  and 
proving  his  own  pedigree,  merely  by 
showing  that  that  Country  had  always 
been  under  hereditary  regal  government! 

§  31.  Then  as  to  the  danger  of 
Schism,  nothing  can  be  more  calculated 
to  create  or  increase  it,  than  to  superadd 
to  all  the  other  sources  of  difference  among 
Christians,  those  additional  ones  resulting 
from  the  theory  we  are  considering.  Be- 
sides all  the  divisions  liable  to  arise  rela- 
tive to  the  essential  doctrines  of  Scripture, 
and  to  the  most  important  points  in  any 
system  of  Church-Government,  Schisms, 
the  most  difficult  to  be  remedied,  may  be 
created  by  that  theory  from  individual 
cases  of  alleged  irregularity. 

A  most  remarkable  instance  of  this  is 
furnished  in  the  celebrated  schism  of  the 
Donatist,  in  Africa,  in  the  beginning  of 
the  fourth  century.f  They  differed  in 
no  point  of  doctrine  or  Church-discipline 
from  their  opponents,  the  Orthodox,  (that 
is,  the  predominant  party  ;)  but  were  at 
issue  with  them  on  the  question  as  to  an 
alleged  irregularity  in  the  appointment  of 
a  certain  Bishop  ;  whose  ordinations  con- 
sequently of  other  Bishops  and  Presby- 

*  Short  Method  with  Deists. 

•f  See  Waddington's  Ecclesiastical  History,  &c. 


ters,  they  inferred,  were  void  ;  and  hence 
the  baptisms  administered  by  those  mi- 
nisters were  void,  and  their  whole  minis- 
tration profane;  so  that  they  rebaptized 
all  who  joined  their  party,  (as  J  believe 
the  Greek  Church  does,  to  this  day,)  and 
regarded  their  opponents  in  the  light  of 
Heathen.  And  this  schism  distracted  the 
greater  part  of  the  Eastern  portion  of  the 
Church  for  upwards  of  two  hundred 
years. 

And  an  attempt  was  made  in  the  last 
century,  by  the  Non-jurors,  to  introduce, 
in  these  realms,  the  everspreading  canker 
of  a  similar  schism.  They  denied  the 
episcopal  character  of  those  who  had  suc- 
ceeded the  displaced  prelates  ;  and,  con- 
sequently, regarded  as  invalid  the  Orders 
conferred  by  them ;  thus  preparing  the 
way  for  all  the  consequences  resulting 
from  the  Donatist  schism. 

The  sect  died  away  before  long, 
through  a  happy  inconsistency  on  the 
part  of  its  supporters ;  who  admitted  the 
claims  of  the  substituted  Bishops  on  the 
death  of  their  predecessors ;  though  it  is 
hard  to  understand  how  those  who  were 
not  true  Bishops  at  first,  could  become 
such,  through  a  subsequent  event,  without 
being  reconsecrated  :  the  Presbyters  or- 
dained by  them  becoming  at  the  same 
time  true  Presbyters,  though  their  Ordi- 
nation had  been  invalid.  It  seems  like 
maintaining  that  a  woman,  who  during 
her  husband's  life-time  marries  another 
man,  and  has  a  family,  becomes,  on  her 
real  husband's  death,  the  lawful  wife  of 
the  other,  and  her  children  legitimate. 

More  recently  still,  an  attempt  was 
made  of  the  same  nature,  on  the  occasion 
of  the  suppression  (as  it  was  called)  of 
some  of  the  Irish  Bishoprics  ;  that  is,  the 
union  of  them  with  others.*  It  has  been 
publicly  and  distinctly  declared  that  an 
effort  was  made  to  represent  this  measure 
as  amounting  to  an  "  interruption  of  Apos- 
tolical succession  :"  though  it  is  not  very 
easy  to  say  how  this  was  to  be  made  out, 
even  on  the  above  principles.! 

*  I  do  not  mean  to  maintain  that  this  was  seri- 
ously believed  by  all  those — some  of  them  men  of 
intelligence  and  learning — who  put  it  forward.  It 
may  very  likely  have  been  one  of  their  "  exoteric 
doctrines,"  designed  only  for  the  Multitude.  But, 
be  this  as  it  may,  they  evidently  meant  that  it 
should  be  believed  by  others,  if  not  by  themselves. 

j-  According  to  this  view,  the  Apostolical  suc- 
cession must  have  been  long  since  lost  in  some 
parts  of  England,  and  the  greatest  part  of  Ireland. 
For  there  were  many  such  unions  existing  before 
the  Act  in  question :  such  as  Cork  and  Ross, 
Ferns  and  Leighlin,  and  several  others. 


IRREGULAR  FORMATION  OF  CHRISTIAN  COMMUNITIES. 


61 


In  short,  there  is  no  imaginable  limit  to   and  wise,  and  necessary,  that  they  should 


the  schisms  that  may  be  introduced  and 
kept  up  through  the  operation  of  these 
principles,  advocated  especially  with  a 
view  to  the  repression  of  schism. 

§  32.  Some  have  imagined  however 
that  since  no  rule  is  laid  down  in  Scrip- 
ture as  to  the  number  of  persons  requisite 
to  form  a  Christian  Community,  or  as  to 
the  mode  in  which  any  such  Community 
is  to  be  set  on  foot,  it  must  follow  that 
persons  left  to  Scripture  as  their  sole 
decisive  authority,  will  be  at  liberty, — all, 
and  any  of  them, — to  form  and  dissolve 
religious  Communities  at  their  pleasure ; 
— to  join  and  withdraw  from  any  Church, 
as  freely  as  if  it  were  a  Club  or  other 
such  institution;  and  to  appoint  them- 
selves or  others  to  any  ministerial  Office, 
as  freely  as  the  members  of  any  Club 
elect  Presidents,  Secretaries,  and  other 
functionaries. 

And  it  is  true  that  this  license  has  been 
assumed  by  weak  and  rash  men ;  who 
have  thus  given  occasion  to  persons  of  the 
class  who  "  mistake  reverse  of  wrong  for 
right,"  to  aim  at  counteracting  one  error 
by  advocating  another.  But  so  far  are 
these  anarchical  consequences  from  being 
a  just  result  of  the  principles  here  main- 
tained, that  I  doubt  whether,  on  any  other 
subject  besides  Religion,  a  man  would 
not  be  reckoned  insane  who  should  so 
reason. 

To  take  the  analogous  case  of  civil 
government :  hardly  any  one  in  his  right 
mind  would  attempt  a  universal  justifica- 
tion of  rebellion,  on  the  ground  that  men 
may  be  placed  in  circumstances  which 
morally  authorize  them  to  do  what,  in 
totally  different  circumstances,  would  be 
rebellion. 

Suppose, 


for   instance,  a  number   of 


emigrants,  bound  for  some  Colony,  to  be 
shipwrecked  on  a  desert  island,  such  as 
afforded  them  means  of  subsistence,  but 
precluded  all  reasonable  hope  of  their  quit- 
ting it :  or  suppose  them  to  have  taken  re- 
fuge there  as  fugitives  from  intolerable  op- 


regard  themselves  as  constituted,  by  the 
very  circumstance  of  their  position,  a 
civil  Community ;  and  should  assemble 
to  enact  such  laws,  and  appoint  such 
magistrates,  as  they  might  judge  most 
suitable  to  their  circumstances.  And 
obedience  to  those  laws  and  governors, 
as  soon  as  the  Constitution  was  settled, 
would  become  a  moral  duty  to  all  the 
members  of  the  Community :  and  this, 
even  though  some  of  the  enactments 
might  appear,  or  might  be,  (though  not 
at  variance  with  the  immutable  laws  of 
morality,  yet)  considerably  short  of  per- 
fection. The  King,  or  other  Magistrates 
thus  appointed,  would  be  legitimate 
rulers  :  and  the  laws  framed  by  them,  valid 
and  binding.  The  precept  of  "  submit- 
ting to  every  ordinance  of  man,  for  the 
Lord's  sake,"  and  of  "  rendering  to  all 
their  due,"  would  apply  in  this  case  as 
completely  as  in  respect  of  any  Civil 
Community  that  exists. 

And  yet  these  men  would  have  been 
doing  what,  in  ordinary  circumstances, 
would  have  been  manifest  rebellion.  For 
if  these  same,  or  any  other  individuals, 
subjects  of  our  own,  or  of  any  existing 
Government,  were  to  take  upon  them- 
selves to  throw  off  their  allegiance  to  it, 
without  any  such  necessity,  and  were  to 
pretend  to  constitute  themselves  an  in- 
dependent Sovereign  State,  and  proceed 
to  elect  a  Ring  or  Senate, — to  frame  a 
Constitution,  and  to  enact  laws,  all  rest- 
ing on  their  own  self-created  authority, 
no  one  would  doubt  that,  however  wise 
in  themselves  those  laws  might  be,  and 
however  personally  well  qualified  the 
magistrates  thus  appointed, — they  would 
not  be  legitimate  governors,  or  valid 
laws  :  and  those  who  had  so  attempted 
to  established  them,  would  be  manifest 
rebels. 

A  similar  rule  will  apply  to  the  case 
of  ecclesiastical  Communities.  If  any 
number  of  individuals, — not  having  the 
plea  of  an  express  revelation  to  the  pur- 


pression,  or  from  a  conquering  enemy;  (no  !  pose,  or  again,  of  their  deliberate  con- 
uncommon  case  in  ancient  times)  or  to  viction  that  the  Church  they  separate 
be  the  sole  survivors  of  a  pestilence  or  ,  from  is  fundamentally  erroneous  and  un- 


earthquake  which  had  destroyed  the  rest 
of  the  nation  :  no  one  would  maintain 
that  these  shipwrecked  emigrants  or  fugi- 


scriptural — take  upon  themselves  to  con- 
stitute a  new  Church,  according  to  their 
own  fancy,  and  to  appoint  themselves  or 


tives,  were  bound,  or  were  permitted,  to  j  others  to  ministerial  offices,  without  having 
remain — themselves  and  their  posterity —  any  recognized  authority  to  do  so,  de- 


in  a  state  of  anarchy,  on  the  ground  of 
no  one  among  them  who 
hereditary  or  other  right  to 


there  being 

could  claim  „  0 J  D 

govern  them.     It  would  clearly  be  right,  [  qualifications,  then  however  wise  in  them- 

6 


rived  from  the  existing  religious  Commu- 
nity of  which  they  were  members,  but 
merely  on  the  ground  of  supposed  personal 


62 


IRREGULAR  FORMATIONS  OF  CHRISTIAN  COMMUNITIES. 


selves  the  institutions^  and  however,  in ' 
themselves,   fit,  the    persons   appointed, 
there  can  be  no  more  doubt  that  the  guilt 
of  Schism  would  be  incurred  in  this  case, ! 
than  that  the  other,  just  mentioned,  would 
be  an  act  of  rebellion. 

Or  again,  if  certain  members,  lay  or! 
clerical,  of  any  Church,  should  think  fit 
to  meet    together   and  constitute   them- 
selves a  kind  of  Synod  for  deciding  some 
question  of  orthodoxy,  and  should  pro- ! 
ceed  to  denounce  publicly  one  of  their 
brethren  as  a  heretic,   there  can  be  no 
doubt  that — whether  his  doctrines  were ! 
right  or  wrong, — these,  his  self-appointed  ! 
judges  (whatever  abhorrence  of  Schism 
they  might  express,  and  however  strongly 
they  might  put  forth  their  own  claim  to ; 
be  emphatically  the  advocates  of  Church 
unity)  would  be  altogether  schismatical  j 
in  their  procedure.     If  the  Apostle's  cen-  j 
sure  of  u  those  that  cause  divisions"  does  j 
not  apply  to  this  case,  it  may  fairly   be 
asked  what  meaning  his  words  can  have.  ! 

On  the  other  hand,  men  placed  in  the 
situation  of  the  supposed  shipwrecked! 
emigrants  or  exiles  above  spoken  of, 
would  be  as  much  authorized,  and  bound, 
to  aim  at  the  advantages  of  a  Religious, 
as  of  a  Civil  Community ;  only  with 
this  difference,  arising  out  of  the  essen- 
tial characters  of  the  two  respectively; 
that  they  would  not  be  authorized  in  the 
one  case,  as  they  would  in  the  other,  to 
resort  to  secular  coercion*  Compliance 
with  civil  regulations  may  and  must  be 
absolutely  enforced ;  but  not  so,  the  pro- 
fession of  a  particular  Creed,  or  conformity 
to  a  particular  mode  of  Worship. 

Another  point  of  distinction  between 
the  formation  of  a  Civil  and  Ecclesias- 
tical Constitution  arises  out  of  this  cir- 
cumstance, that  it  was  plainly  the  design 
of  the  Apostles  that  there  should  be  as 
much  as  possible  of  free  intercommunion, 
and  facility  of  interchange  of  members, 
among  Christians  Churches.  Conse- 
quently, when  it  is  said,  here  and  else- 
where, that  each  of  these  is  bound  to 
make  such  enactments  respecting  non- 
essentials,  as  its  governors  may  judge 
best,  it  is  not  meant  that  they  have  to 
consider  merely  what  would  seem  in 
itself  best,  and  supposing  they  were  the 
only  Christian  Community  existing ;  but 
they  must  also  take  care  to  raise  up  no 
unnecessary  barrier  of  separation  be- 
tween the  members  of  their  own  and  of 
other — essentially  pure — Churches.  Any 


*  See  Appendix,  Note  (A.) 


arrangements  or  institutions,  &c.,  which 
would  tend  to  check  the  free  intercourse, 
and  weaken  the  ties  of  brotherhood, 
among  all  Christ's  followers  throughout 
the  world,  should  be  as  much  as  possible 
avoided. 

This,  however,  is  no  exception  to  the 
general  rule,  but  an  application  of  it. 
For,  those  enactments  which  should  tend 
to  defeat,  without  necessity,  one  of  the 
objects  which  the  Apostles  proposed, 
would  (however  good  in  themselves)  evi- 
dently not  be  the  best,  for  that  very  reason. 

But  it  would  be  absurd  to  maintain 
that  men  placed  in  such  a  situation  as 
has  been  here  supposed,  are  to  be  shut 
out,  generation  after  generation,  from  the 
Christian  Ordinances,  and  the  Gospel 
covenant.  Their  circumstances  would 
constitute  them  (as  many  as  could  be 
brought  to  agree  in  the  essentials  of  faith 
and  Christian  worship)  a  Christian  Com- 
munity; and  would  require  them  to  do 
that  which,  if  done  without  such  neces- 
sity, would  be  schismatical.  To  make 
regulations  for  the  Church  thus  consti- 
tuted, and  to  appoint  as  its  ministers  the 
fittest  persons  that  could  be  found  among 
them,  and  to  celebrate  the  Christian  Rites, 
would  be  a  proceeding  not  productive,  as 
in  the  other  case,  of  division,  but  of 
union.  And  it  would  be  a  compliance, 
— clearly  pointed  out  to  them  by  the 
Providence  which  had  placed  them  in 
that  situation, — with  the  manifest  will  of 
our  Heavenly  Master,  that  Christians 
should  live  in  a  religious  Community, 
under  such  Officers  and  such  Regulations 
as  are  essential  to  the  existence  of  every 
Community. 

To  say  that  Christian  ministers  thus 
appointed  would  be,  to  all  intents  and 
purposes,  real  legitimate  Christian  minis- 
ters, and  that  the  Ordinances  of  such  a 
Church  would  be  no  less  valid  and  effi- 
cacious (supposing  always  that  they  are 
not  in  themselves  superstitious  and  un- 
scriptural)  than  those  of  any  other 
Church,  is  merely  to  say  in  other  words, 
that  it  would  be  a  real  Christian  Church; 
possessing,  consequently,  in  common 
with  all  Communities  of  whatever  kind, 
the  essential  rights  of  a  Community  to 
have  Officers  and  By-laws;  and  possessing 
also,  in  common  with  all  Christian  Com- 
munities, (i.  e.  Churches)  the  especial 
sanction  of  our  Lord,  and  his  promise  of 
ratifying  ("  binding  in  Heaven")  its 
enactments.* 


*  See  in  Appendix,  Note  (N,)    a  quotation 


PRESUMPTION  IN  FAVOUR  OF  OUR  OWN  CHURCH. 


63 


It  really  does  seem  not  only  absurd, 
but  even  impious,  to  represent  it  as  the 
Lord's  will,  that  persons  who  are  be- 
lievers in  his  Gospel,  should,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  circumstances  in  which  his 
Providence  has  placed  them,  condemn 
themselves  and  their  posterity  to  live  as 
Heathens,  instead  of  conforming  as 
closely  as  those  circumstances  will 
allow,  to  the  institutions  and  directions 
of  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  by  combining 
themselves  into  a  Christian  Society,  regu- 
lated and  conducted,  in  the  best  way 
they  can,  on  Gospel  principles.  And  if 
such  a  Society  does  enjoy  the  divine 
blessing  and  favour,  it  follows  that  its 
proceedings,  its  enactments,  its  officers, 
are  legitimate  and  apostolical,  as  long  as 
they  are  conformable  to  the  principles 
which  the  Apostles  have  laid  down  and 
recorded  for  our  use  :  even  as  those  (of 
whatever  race  u  after  the  flesh")  who 
embraced  and  faithfully  adhered  to  the 
Gospel,  were  called  by  the  Apostle, 
"  Abraham's  seed,"*  and  u  the  Israel  of 
God."t 

The  Ministers  of  such  a  Church  as 
I  have  been  supposing,  would  rightly 
claim  "  Apostolical  succession,"  because 
they  would  rightfully  hold  the  same  office 
which  the  Apostles  conferred  on  those 
"  Elders  whom  they  ordained  in  every  j 
City.'  And  it  is  impossible  for  any  one 
of  sound  mind,  seriously  to  believe  that 
the  recognition  of  such  claims  in  a  case 
like  the  one  here  supposed,  affords  a  fair 
precedent  for  men  who  should  wan- 
tonly secede  from  the  Church  to  which 
they  had  belonged,  and  take  upon  them-  | 
selves  to  ordain  Ministers  and  form  a 
new  and  independent  Church  according 
to  their  own  fancy. 

§  33.  I  have  spoken  of  seceding  from 
"  the  Church  to  which  they  had  be- 
longed," because,  in  each  case  the  pre- 
sumptionl  is  in  favour  of  that ;  not,  ne- 
cessarily, in  favour  of  the  Church  to 
which  a  man's  ancestors  may  formerly 
have  belonged,§  or  the  one  which  can 


from  an  Appeal  of  Luther's  in   1520,  cited  in 
D'Aubigne's  "  History  of  the  Reformation." 

*  Rom.  v.  16.  f  Gal.  vi.  16. 

*  See  Rhetoric,  Part  I.  ch.  3,  §  2. 

§  Accordingly,  if  we  suppose  the  case  of  the 
Romish  Church  reforming  all  its  errors,  and  re- 
turning to  the  state  of  its  greatest  purity,  although 
we  should  with  joy  "  give  the  right  hand  of  fel- 
lowship"  to  its  members,  it  would  be  utterly  un-  j 
justifiable  for  any  member  of  our  Church  to  throw  j 
off  his  allegiance  to  it  and  go  over  to  the  Church  ' 
of  Rome,  on  the  ground  of  his  ancestors  having  j 


boast  the  greatest  antiquity,  or,  which  is 
established    by    the    Civil    Government. 
The    Church,  whatever  it   is,  in  which 
each    man    was    originally    enrolled    a 
member,  has  the  first  claim  to  his  alle- 
giance, supposing  there  is  nothing  in  its 
doctrines  or  practice  which  he  is   con- 
vinced is  unscriptural  and  wrong.     He  is 
|  of  course   bound,   in    deference    to   the 
i  higher  authority  of  Christ  and  his  Apos- 
|  ties,  to  renounce  its  communion,  if  he 
|  does    feel    such    a  conviction  ;    but   not 
|  from  motives  of  mere  fancy,  or  worldly 
advantage. 

All  separation,  in  short,  must  be  either 
a  duty,  or  a  sin* 

And  the  Christian's  obligation  to  sub- 
mit to  the  (not  unscriptural)  Laws  and 
I  Officers  of  his  Church,  being  founded  on 
j  the  principles  above  explained,  is  inde- 
I  pendent  of  all  considerations  of  the  regu- 
larity or  irregularity  of  the  original  forrna- 
I  tion  of  that  Church;  else,  indeed,  no  one 
|  could  be  certain  what  were  his  duties  as  a 
member  of  a  certain  Church,  without  en- 
tering on  long  and  difficult  researches  into 
ecclesiastical  history :  such  as  are  far  be- 
yond the  reach  of  ninety-nine  persons  in 
the  hundred.    A  certain  Church  may,  sup- 
pose, have  originated  in  a  rash   separa- 
tion from  another  Church,  on  insufficient 
grounds ;  but  for  an  individual  to  sepa- 
rate from  it  merely  for  that  reason,  would 


belonged  to  that ;  nor  would  such  a  reform  con- 
fer on  the  Bishop  of  Rome  any  power  over  the 
Anglican  Church. 

*  It  may  he  necessary  perhaps  here  to  remind 
the  reader  that  I  am  speaking  of  separating  from, 
and  renouncing,  some  Church:  not  of  merely 
joining  and  becoming  a  member  of  some  other. 
This  latter  does  not  imply  the  former,  except 
when  there  is  some  essential  point  of  difference 
between  the  two  Churches.  When  there  is  none, 
a  man's  becoming  a  member  of  another  Church 
on  changing  his  residence, — as,  for  instance,  a 
member  of  the  Anglican  Church,  on  going  to  re- 
side in  Scotland  or  America,  where  Churches  es- 
sentially in  agreement  with  ours  exist — this  is  the 
very  closest  conformity  to  the  principles  and  prac- 
tice of  the  Apostles.  In  their  days  (and  it  would 
have  been  the  same,  always,  and  every  where,  had 
their  principles  been  universally  adhered  to)  a 
Christian  of  the  Church  of  Corinth  for  instance, 
on  taking  up  his  abode,  suppose,  at  Ephesus, 
where  there  was  a  Christian  Church,  differing 
perhaps  in  some  non-essential  customs  and  forms, 
but  agreeing  in  essentials,  was  received  into  that 
Church  as  a  brother;  and  this  was  so  far  from 
implying  his  separation  from  the  former,  that  he 
would  be  received  into  the  Ephesian  Church  only 
on  letters  of  recommendation*  from  the  Corinthian. 


}.     See  2  Cor. 


64 


APPREHENSION  OF  UNSETTLING  MEN7S  MINDS. 


he  not  escaping  but  incurring  the  guilt  of 
Schism.* 

Jt  may  indeed  often  be  very  desirable 
to  attempt  the  re-union  of  Christian  Com- 
munities that  had  been  separated  on  in- 
sufficient grounds:  but  no  individual  is 
justified  in  renouncing,  from  motives  of 
mere  taste  or  convenience,  the  communion 
of  the  Church  he  belongs  to,  if  he  can  re- 
main in  it  with  a  safe  conscience. 

As  for  the  question,  what  are,  and  what 
are  not,  to  be  accounted  essential  points, 
— what  will,  and  what  will  not,  justify, 
and  require,  separation, — it  would  be  fo- 
reign from  the  present  purpose  to  discuss 
it.  The  differences  between  two  Churches 
may  appear  essential,  and  non-essential, 
to  two  persons  equally  conscientious,  and 
equally  careful  in  forming  a  judgment. 
All  1  am  insisting  on  is,  that  the  matter  is 
one  which  does  call  for  that  careful  and 
conscientious  judgment.  A  man  should, 
deliberately,  and  with  a  sense  of  deep  re- 
sponsibility, make  up  his  mind,  as  to  what 
is,  or  is  not,  to  the  best  of  his  judgment, 
essential,  before  he  resolves  on  taking,  or 
not  taking,  a  step  which  must  in  every 
case  be  either  a  duty  or  a  sin. 

§  34.  It  may  be  said  however  that  it  is 
superfluous  to  enter  at  all  on  the  consi- 
deration of  what  would  be  allowable  and 
right  under  some  supposed  circumstances, 
which  are  not  our  own ;  and  to  decide 
beforehand  for  some  imaginary  emergency 
that  may  never  occur  j  at  least  never  to 
ourselves. 

It  may  be  represented  as  an  empty  and 
speculative  question  to  inquire  whether 
our  Ministry  derive  their  authority  from 
the  Church,  or  the  Church  from  them,  as 
long  as  the  rights  both  of  the  Church  and 
its  Ministers  are  but  acknowledged.  And 
if  any  one  is  satisfied  both  that  our  Minis- 
ters are  ordained  by  persons  descended  in 
an  unbroken  series  of  Episcopal  Ordina- 
tion from  the  Apostles,  and  also  that  they 
are  the  regularly  appointed  and  recognized 
Officers  of  a  Christian  Community  consti- 
tuted on  Apostolical  principles,  it  may  be 
represented  as  impertinent  to  trouble  him 
with  questions  as  to  which  of  these  two 
things  it  is  that  gives  them  the  rightful 
claim  to  that  deference  which,  as  it  is,  he 
is  willing  to  pay  to  them. 

It  is  in  this  way  that  the  attempt  is  often 
made,  and  not  seldom  with  success,  to 
evade  the  discussion  of  important  general 

*  For  some  very  sensible  and  valuable  remarks 
on  this  subject,  see  Hinds'  History  of  the  Rise  and 
Early  Progress  of  Christianity,  vol.  ii.  p.  42. 


principles,  and  thus  to  secure  an  unin- 
quiring  acquiescence  in  false  assumptions 
which  will  not  stand  the  test  of  examina- 
tion, and  which  when  once  admitted  will 
lead  to  very  important  and  very  mischiev- 
ous practical  results.  Why  should  we 
unsettle  men's  minds — one  may  hear  it 
said — by  speculations  on  any  imaginary  or 
impossible  case,  when  they  are  satisfied 
as  they  are?  As  long  as  any  one  will  but 
believe  and  do  what  he  ought,  what  mat- 
ters it  whether  his  reasons  for  acquies- 
cence are  the  most  valid  or  not?  And 
then,  when,  in  this  way,  men's  minds  have 
been  "settled"  in  false  notions,  some  of 
them  are  likely  to  follow  out  a  wrong 
principle  into  the  pernicious  consequences 
to  which  it  fairly  leads;  and  others  again 
become  most  dangerously,  and  perhaps  in- 
curably, unsettled,  when  the  sandy  foun- 
dation they  have  been  taught  to  build  on 
happens  to  be  washed  away. 

If,  as  has  been  above  remarked,  a  man 
is  taught  that  view  of  Apostolical  succes- 
sion which  makes  every  thing  depend  on 
the  unbroken  series  between  the  apostles 
and  the  individual  minister  from  whom 
each  man  receives  the  Sacraments,  or  the 
individual  bishop  conferring  Ordination, — 
a  fact  which  never  can  be  ascertained  with 
certainty — and  he  is  then  presented  with 
proofs,  not  of  this,  but  of  a  different  fact 
instead, — the  Apostolical  succession,  ge- 
nerally^ of  the  great  Body  of  the  ministers 
of  his  Church  ; — and  if  he  is  taught  to  ac- 
quiesce with  consolatory  confidence  in  the 
regulations  and  ordinances  of  the  Church, 
not  on  such  grounds  as  have  been  above 
laid  down,  but  on  the  ground  of  their 
exact  conformity  to  the  model  of  the 
"  ancient  Church,  which  exact  conformity 
is,  in  many  cases,  more  than  can  be  sa- 
tisfactorily proved,  and  in  some  can  be 
easily  disproved,  the  result  of  the  attempt 
so  to  settle  men's  minds,  must  be,  with 
many,  the  most  distressing  doubt  and  per- 
plexity. And  others  again,  when  taught 
to  "  blend  with  Scripture,"  as  a  portion  of 
Revelation,  the  traditions  of  the  first  three, 
or  first  four,  or  first  seven,  or  fifteen  cen- 
turies, may  find  it  difficult  to  understand, 
when,  and  where,  and  why,  they  are  to 
stop  short  abruptly  in  the  application  of 
the  principles  they  have  received  :  why, 
if  one  general  Council  is  to  be  admitted 
as  having  divine  authority  to  bind  the 
conscience,  and  supersede  private  judg- 
ment, another  is  to  be  rejected  by  private 
judgment:  and  that  too  by  the  judgment 
of  men  who  are  not  agreed  with  each 
other,  or  even  themselves,  whether  the 


CASES  OF  MORAL  NECESSITY  FOR  SEPARATION. 


65 


council  of  Trent,  for  instance,  is  to  be  re- 
garded as  the  beginning  of  the  Romish 
Apostacy,  or  as  a  promising  omen  of  im- 
provement in  the  Church  of  Rome.  That 
man  must  be  strangely  constituted  who 
can  find  consolatory  security  for  his  faith 
in  such  a  guide  ; — who  can  derive  satis- 
factory confidence  from  the  oracles  of  a 
Proteus  ! 

§  35.  Moreover,  the  supposed  case  of 
Christians  deprived  of  regular  succession 
of  Episcopally  ordained  Ministers,  and  left 
to  determine  what  course  they  ought, 
under  such  circumstances,  to  take,  is  not 
inconceivable,  or  impossible,  or  unprece- 
dented; nor  again,  even  if  it  were,  would 
the  consideration  of  such  a  question  be 
necessarily  an  unprofitable  speculation  ; 
because  it  will  often  happen  that  by  putting 
a  supposed  case  (even  when  such  as  could 
not  possibly  occur)  we  can  the  most  easily 
and  most  clearly  ascertain  on  what  prin- 
ciple a  person  is  acting.  Thus  when 
Plato*  puts  the  impossible  case  of  your 
possessing  the  ring  of  Gyges,"]"  which,  ac- 
cording to  the  legend,  could  make  the 
bearer  invisible,  and  demands  how  you 
Avould  then  act,  he  applies  a  kind  of  test, 
which  decomposes,  as  the  chemists  say, 
the  complex  mass  of  motives  that  may  in- 
fluence a  man,  and  calls  on  you  to  con- 
sider whether  you  abstain  from  bad  actions 
through  fear  of  the  censure  of  the  world, 
or  from  abhorrence  of  evil  in  itself. 

So  again — to  take  another  instance — if 
any  one  is  asked  how  men  ought  to  act 
when  living  under  a  Government  profess- 
ing, and  enforcing  under  penalties,  a  false 
religion,  and  requiring  of  its  subjects  ido- 
latrous worship,  and  other  practices  con- 
trary to  Scripture,  if  he  should  object  to 
the  question,  on  the  ground  that  there  is 
no  prospect  of  his  being  so  circumstanced, 
and  that  he  is  living,  and  may  calculate  on 
continuing  to  live,  under  a  Government 


*  "  Atque  hoc  loco,  philosophi  quidam,  minime 
mail  illi  quidem,  sed  non  satis  acuti,  fictam  et 
commentitiam  fabulam  prolatam  dicunt  a  Platone  : 
quasi  vero  ille,  aut  f-ictuin  id  esse,  aut  fieri  potuisse 
defendat.  Hsec  est  vis  hujus  annuli  et  hujus 
exempli,  si  nemo  sciturus,  nemo  ne  suspicaturus 
quidem  sit,  cum  aliquid,  divitiarum,  potentise,  do- 
minationis  libidinis,  causa  feceris, — si  id  diis  homini- 
busque  futurum  sit  semper  ignotum,  sisne  facturus. 
Negant  id  fieri  posse.  Quanquam  potest  id  qui- 
dem ;  sed  qusero,  quod  negant  posse,  id  si  posset, 
quidnam  facerent?  Urgent  rustice  sane:  negant 
enim  posse,  et  in  eo  perstant.  Hoc  verbum  quid 
valeat,  non  vident.  Cum  enim  quserimus,  si 
possint  celare,  quid  facturi  sint,  non  quserimus, 
possintne  celare,"  &c. — Cic.  de  Off.  b.  iii.  c.  9. 

t  Rhetoric,  p.  i.  c.  2,  §  8. 


which  inculcates  a  true  religion,  it  would 
be  justly  inferred  that  he  was  conscious 
of  something  unsound  in  his  principles, 
from  his  evading  a  test  that  goes  to  ascer- 
tain whether  he  regards  religious  truth 
and  the  command  of  God,  as  things  to  be 
adhered  to  at  all  events,  or  merely,  when 
coinciding  with  the  requisitions  of  Go- 
vernment. 

So  also,  in  the  present  case :  when  a 
Church  possesses  Ministers  who  are  the 
regularly  appointed  officers  of  a  Christian 
Community  constituted  on  evangelical 
principles,  and  who  are  also  ordained  by 
persons  descended  in  an  unbroken  series 
from  those  ordained  by  the  Apostles,  the 
two  circumstances  coincide^  on  which, 
according  to  the  two  different  principles, 
respectively,  above  treated  of,  the  legi- 
timacy and  apostolical  commission  of 
Christian  Ministers  may  be  made  to  de- 
pend. Now  in  order  to  judge  fairly,  and 
to  state  clearly  the  decision,  which  founda- 
tion we  resolve  to  rest  on,  it  is  requisite 
to  propose  a  case  (even  supposing — which 
is  very  far  from  being  the  fact — that  it 
could  not  actually  occur)  in  which  these 
two  circumstances  do  not  come  together; 
and  then  to  pronounce  which  it  is  that  we 
regard  as  essential. 

§  36.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  can 
be  no  reasonable  doubt  that  the  Apostles 
did  "  ordain  Elders  in  every  city."  Even 
if  there  had  been  no  record  of  their  doing 
so,  we  might  have  inferred  it  from  the 
very  fact  of  their  instituting  Christian 
Societies ;  since  every  Society  must  have 
Officers  ;  and  the  founder  of  a  Society 
will  naturally  take  upon  him  to  nominate 
the  first  Officers ;  as  well  as  to  "  set  in 
order  the  rest"  of  the  appointments.* 
And  those  Officers,  acting  in  the  name 
and  on  the  behalf  of  the  Community, 
would,  of  course,  appoint  others  to  suc- 
ceed them ;  and  so  on,  from  generation 
to  generation.  As  long  as  every  thing 
went  on  correctly  in  each  Church,  and 
its  doctrines  and  practices  remained  sound, 
there  would  be  nothing  to  interrupt  this 
orderly  course  of  things.  But  whenever 
it  happened  that  the  Rulers  of  any  Church 
departed  from  the  Christian  faith  and 
practice  which  it  is  their  business  to  pre- 
serve,— when,  for  instance,  they  corrupted 
their  worship  with  superstitions,  made  a 
traffic  of  "  indulgences,"  and  u  taught  for 
doctrines  the  commandments  of  men,"  by 
"  blending"  human  traditions  with  Scrip- 
ture, and  making  them,  either  wholly  or 

*  1  Cor. 
6* 


66 


CASES  OF  MORAL  NECESSITY  FOR  SEPARATION. 


in  part,  the  substitute,  as  a  rule  of  faith, 'jects  for  which  Churches  were  originally 
for  the  records  of  inspiration, — in  any  j  instituted, — all  these  are  advantages  not 
such  case,  it  became  the  duty  of  all  those  to  be  lightly  thrown  away.  But  the  un- 


who  perceived  the  inroads  of  such  errors, 


avoidable  absence  of  any  of  these  advan- 


to  aim  at  the  reformation  of  them ;  and  tages,  not  only  is  not  to  be  imputed  to 
when  all  or  any  of  the  Spiritual  Pastors  them  as  a  matter  of  blame,  but,  by  impos- 
of  such  a  Church  obstinately  stood  out ;  ing  the  necessity,  creates  the  right,  and 
against  reform,  to  throw  off  their  subjec-  j  the  duty,  of  supplying  their  deficiencies 
tion  to  persons  so  abusing  their  sacred  |  as  they  best  can.  Much  as  they  may  re- 
office,  and,  at  all  events,  reform  them-  gret  being  driven  to  the  alternative,  they 


selves  as  they  best  could.  It  is  as  plain 
a  duty  for  men  so  circumstanced  to  obey 
their  Heavenly  Master,  and  forsake  those 
who  have  apostatized  from  Him,  as  it 
would  be  for  the  loyal  portion  of  a  gar- 


ought  not  to  hesitate  in  their  decision, 
when  their  choice  lies  between  adherence 
to  the  human  Governors  of  a  Church, 
and  to  its  divine  Master  ; — between  "  the 
form  of  Godliness,  and  the  power  there- 


rison  of  soldiers  to  revolt  from  a  general !  of  j" — between  the  means  and  the  end  ; — 
who  had  turned  traitor  to  his  King,  and  j  between  unbroken  apostolical  succession 
was  betraying  the  city  into  the  enemy's  of  individuals,  and  uncorrupted  Gospel 
hands.  So  far  from  being  rebellious  sub-  I  principles. 

jects  in  thus  revolting,  they  would  be  §  37.  Persons  so  situated  ought  to  be 
guilty  of  rebellion  if  they  did  not.  ,  on  their  guard  against  two  opposite  mis- 

Jn  like  manner,  the  very  circumstances  j  takes  :  the  one  is,  to  underrate  the  privi- 
in  which  such  a  Body  of  reformers,  as  I ;  leges  of  a  Christian  Community,  by  hold- 
have  been  alluding  to,  are  placed,  confer  ing  themselves  altogether  debarred  from 
on  them  that  independence  which  they  \  the  exercises  of  such  powers  as  naturally 
would  have  been  unjustifiable  in  assuming  and  essentially  belong  to  every  Commu- 
wantonly.  The  right  is  bestowed,  and  nity;  the  other  mistake  is  to  imagine  that 
the  duty  imposed  on  them,  of  separation  |  whatever  they  have  an  undoubted  right 
from  the  unreformed,  which,  under  oppo-j  to  do,  they  would  necessarily  be  right  in 
site  circumstances,  would  have  been  schis-  doing.  In  no  other  subject  perhaps  would 
matical.  They  are  authorized,  and  bound,  such  a  confusion  of  thought  be  likely  to 


by  the  very  nature  of  their  situation, 
either  to  subsist  as  a  distinct  Community, 
or  to  join  some  other  Church  ;*  even  as 
the  vitality  which  Nature  has  conferred 
on  the  scion  of  a  tree,  enables  it,  when 
cut  off  from  the  parent  stock,  either  to 
push  forth  fresh  roots  of  its  own,  or  to 
unite,  as  a  graft,  with  the  stock  of  some 
kindred  tree. 

It  is  for  men  so  circumstanced  to  do 


arise,  as  is  implied  by  the  confounding 
together  of  things  so  different  as  these 
two.  Although  the  legislature  (as  I  have 
above  remarked)  has  an  undoubted  right 
to  pass,  or  to  reject,  any  Bill,  a  man  would 
be  deemed  insane  who  should  thence  in- 
fer that  they  are  equally  right  in  doing 
either  the  one  or  the  other.  So  also  the 
Governors  of  a  Church  are  left,  in  respect 
of  ordinances  and  regulations  not  pre- 


their  best  according  to  their  own  delibe-  !  scribed  or  forbidden  in  Scripture,  to  their 
rate  judgment,  to  meet  their  difficulties, !  own  judgment;  but  they  are  bound  to  act 


to  supply  their  deficiencies,  and  to  avail 
themselves  of  whatever  advantages  may 
lie  within  their  reach.  If  they  have 
among  their  number  Christian  Ministers 
of  several  Orders,  or  of  one  Order, — if 
they  can  obtain  a  supply  of  such  from 


some   other  sound   Church, 


if  they 


can  unite  themselves   to  such  a  Church 
with  advantage  to  the  great  ultimate  ob- 


*  An  instance  of  this  was  very  recently  afforded 
by  the  people  of  Zillerthal,  in  the  Austrian  do- 
minions ;  who,  being  deliberately  convinced  of  the 
errors  of  the  Church  in  which  they  had  been 
brought  up,  underwent,  in  consequence  of  their 
refusal  of  compliance,  a  long  series  of  vexatious 
persecution,  and  ultimately  forsook  their  home, 
and  found  refuge  and  freedom  of  conscience  in 
the  territory  of  Prussia. 


according  to  the  best  of  their  judgment. 
What  is  left  to  their  discretion  is  not  there- 
fore left  to  their  caprice  ;  nor  are  they  to 
regard  every  point  that  is  not  absolutely  es- 
sential, as  therefore  absolutely  indifferent. 
They  have  an  undoubted  right,  accord- 
ing to  the  principles  I  have  been  endea- 
vouring to  establish,  to  appoint  such  Or- 
ders of  Christian  Ministers,  and  to  allot  to 
each  such  functions,  as  they  judge  most 
conducive  to  the  great  ends  of  the  Society; 
they  may  assign  to  the  whole,  or  to  a  por- 
tion of  these,  the  office  of  ordaining  others 
as  their  successors  ;  they  may  appoint 
one  superintendent  of  the  rest,  or  several ; 
under  the  title  of  Patriarch,  Archbishop, 
Bishop,  Moderator,  or  any  other  that  they 
may  prefer  ;  they  may  make  the  appoint- 


MISTAKES  TO  WHICH  MORAL  REFORMERS  ARE  LIABLE. 


67 


ment  of  them  for  life,  or  for  a  limited  pe- 
riod,— by  election,  or  by  rotation, — with 
a  greater,  or  less  extensive,  jurisdiction  ; 
and  they  have  a  similar  discretionary 
power  with  respect  to  Liturgies,  Festivals, 
Ceremonies,  and  whatever  else  is  left  at 
large  in  the  Scriptures. 

Now  to  infer  that  all  possible  deter- 
minations of  these  and  similar  points 
would  be  equally  expedient,  and  equally 
wise,  and  good,  would  be  an  absurdity 
so  gross  that  in  no  other  case,  not  con- 
nected with  religion,  would  men  need 
even  to  be  warned  against  it.  In  fact,  it 
would  go  to  do  away  the  very  existence  of 
any  such  attributes  as  "  wisdom" — "  pru- 
dence,"— "discretion," — "judgment,"  &c. 
altogether  :  for  there  is  evidently  no  room 
for  the  exercise  of  them  in  matters  not 
left  to  our  choice,  and  in  which  the  course 
we  are  to  pursue  is  decided  for  us,  and 
distinctly  marked  out,  by  a  higher  Author- 
ity; nor  again  is  there  any  room  for  them 


The  mistakes,  however,  which  I  have 
been  alluding  to,  have  been  not  unfre- 
quently  made  in  what  relates  to  the  powers 
possessed  by  Christian  Communities,  and 
the  mode  of  exercising  these  powers. 
For  instance,  at  the  time  of  the  great 
Reformation,  some  Bodies  of  Christians 
found  themselves  without  any  Bishop 
among  their  number ;  and  formed  what 
are  called  Presbyterian  Churches.  Some 
members  accordingly  of  these  Churches 
have  felt  themselves  called  upon  in  self- 
defence  to  decry  Episcopacy,  as  a  form 
of  Government  not  instituted  by  the  Apos- 
tles, and,  consequently,  as  one  which  all 
Christians  are  bound  to  reject.  Errone- 
ous as,  I  am  convinced,  their  premise  was, 
they  were,  on  the  above  principles,  still 
more  erroneous  in  drawing  that  conclu- 
sion from  it.  Others  of  them  again  la- 
merited  their  want  of  Episcopacy ;  con- 
sidering that  form  of  government  as  hav- 
ing the  apostolical  sanction,  and  conse- 


in  matters  in  which  there  is  not  a  right  j  quently,  as  obligatory  and  indispensable 
and  a  wrong, — a  better  and  a  worse  ;  and  '  to    be    retained,  when    possible;    but    to 


where  the  decision  is  a  matter  of  total 
indifference ;  as  in  the  choice  between 
two  similar  sheets  of  paper  to  begin  writ- 
ing on,  when  both  are  lying  within  one's 
reach.  The  sole  province  of  prudent  and 
cautious  deliberation  is  in  cases  which  are 
left  to  our  decission,  and  in  which  we 
may  make  a  better  or  a  worse  decision. 
And  yet  I  should  not  wonder  if  some  per- 
sons were  to  take  for  granted  that  any 
one  who  does  not  presume  at  once  to  ex- 
clude from  the  Gospel  covenant  all  pro- 
fessed Christians  who  do  not  strictly  con- 
form to  what  we  regard  as  the  purest  pri- 
mitive practice,  and  to  deny  altogether 
the  validity  of  all  their  Ordinances,  must, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  place  exactly  on  a 
level  a  system  founded  on  the  most  dili- 
gent, sober,  and  deliberate  inquiry  after 
ancient  and  well-tried  models,  and  the 
most  rash,  ill-advised,  and  fanciful  inno- 
vations that  ever  were  devised  by  igno- 
rance or  presumption.  As  well  might 


them,  unattainable,  from  the  interruption 
of  episcopal  succession.  And  while  some 
persons  presume  to  exclude  all  Presbyte- 
rians from  the  pale  of  Christ's  universal 
Church — professing  at  the  same  time,  in 
words,  what  they  virtually  nullify  by  their 
interpretations,  that kt  Holy  Scripture  con- 
tains all  things  necessary  to  salvation^ 
others  again  compassionate  and  sympa- 
thize with  the  supposed  unavoidable  de- 
ficiency in  the  Presbyterian  Churches. 

Now  that  all  these  parties  are  mistaken 
in  their  views  (though  a  mere  mistake, 
when  not  accompanied  with  a  want  of 
charity,  is  not  deserving  of  severe  cen- 
sure) must  be  evident  to  any  one  who  em- 
braces the  principles  which  in  the^  outset 
I  endeavoured  to  establish.  It  follows 
from  those  principles,  that  the  Bodies  of 
Christians  we  have  been  speaking  of,  had 
full  power  to  retain,  or  to  restore,  or  to 
originate,  whatever  form  of  Church  go- 
vernment they,  in  their  deliberate  and 


one  infer  from  the  Apostle's  declaration !  cautious  judgment,  might  deem  best  for 
that  "the  Powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  |  the  time,  and  country,  and  persons,  they 
God,"  his  complete  approval  of  the  Con-  j  had  to  deal  with ;  whether  exactly  sirni- 
stitution  of  the  Roman  Empire,  of  its  laws,  |  lar,  or  not,  to  those  introduced  by  the 
and  of  the  mode  of  appointing  Emperors;  Apostles',  provided  nothing  were  done 
or  his  total  indifference  as  to  the  best  or !  contrary  to  Gospel  precepts  and  princi- 
ples. They  were,  therefore,  perfectly  at 


the  worst  system  of  civil  Government. 
If  all  laws  were  equally  good,  or  if  wise 
laws  and  unwise  were  a  matter  of  indif- 
ference, or  if  it  did  not  rest  with  each 
Government  to  make  either  wise  or  un- 
wise enactments,  what  room  could  there 
be  for  political  ivisdom  ? 


liberty  to  appoint  Bishops,  even  if  they 
had  none  that  had  joined  in  the  reforma- 
tion ;  or  to  discontinue  the  appointment, 
even  if  they  had:  whichever  they  were 
convinced  was  the  most  conducive,  under 
existing  circumstances,  to  the  great  ob- 


68 


SEDUCTION  OF  THE  FEELINGS  AND  IMAGINATION. 


jects  of  all  Church  government.  And 
though  their  decision  of  this  point  ought 
to  have  been  very  greatly  influenced  by 
their  belief  as  to  what  were  the  forms 
adopted  by  the  Apostles  (which  must 
have  been  not  only  wise,  but  the  very 
wisest,  for  those  times  and  persons]  they 
had  no  reason  to  hold  themselves  abso- 
lutely bound  to  adhere,  always  and  every 
where,  to  those  original  models.  In- 
deed, to  so  considerable  a  degree  have  all 
Churches  judged  themselves  at  liberty  to 
depart  from  the  exact  model  of  the  earli- 
est institutions — especially  (as  1  formerly 
remarked)  in  respect  of  that  important 
change  introduced, — whether  wisely  or 
unwisely, — by,  I  believe,  all  of  what  are 
called  Episcopal  Churches  ;  that  of  hav- 
ing several  bishops  in  one  Church  instead 
of  making  each  Diocess,  as  appears  to 
have  been  the  apostolical  system,  an  en- 
tire and  distinct  Church  ; — so  considera- 
ble, I  say,  is  the  liberty  in  this  respect, 
that  has  been  assumed  by  all  Churches, 
that  those  who  speak  of  all  Christians 
being  strictly  bound  to  conform  in  every 
point  to  the  exact  pattern  of  the  primitive 
institutions,  can  hardly  wonder  if  they  find 
imputed  to  them  either  great  want  of 
knowledge,  or  of  reflection,  in  themselves, 
or  else,  a  design  to  take  advantage  of  the 
ignorance  or  inattention  of  others. 

§  38.  I  have  specified  the  want  of 
"attentive  reflection"  in  applying  rightly 
in  practice  the  knowledge  men  do  pos- 
sess as  tending  to  foster  erroneous 
notions,  because  it  is  probably  both  a 
more  common  and  a  more  dangerous 
defect  than  mere  want  of  sufficient  know- 
ledge. And  it  may  be  added,  that  it 
arises  not  so  often  from  original  defi- 
ciency .  in  the  mental  powers,  as  from 
neglect  to  exercise  them.  There  are 
many  who  inadvertently,  and  not  a  few 
who  advisedly  and  designedly,  resign 
themselves,  in  all  matters  pertaining  to 
morals  or  religion,  to  the  impressions 
produced  on  their  imagination  and  feel- 
ings ;  and  rather  applaud  than  reproach 
themselves  for  not  awaiting  the  decisions 
of  calm  judgment,  or  for  allowing  their 
judgment  to  be  biassed.  To  such  per- 
sons there  is,  it  must  be  acknowledged, 
something  very  captivating  and  seductive 
in  the  notions  I  have  been  censuring ; 
and  not  the  less,  from  their  being  some- 
what vague  and  dimly  apprehended,  inca- 
pable of  abiding  the  test  of  sober  exami- 
nation, and  invested  with  some  of  that 
"  mysterious  and  solemn  gloom,"  which 
has  been  put  forth  expressly  by  some  of 


their  advocates,  as  a  recommendation 
There  is  something  to  many  minds 
awfully  and  mystically  sublime  in  the 
idea  of  the  "  decisions  of  the  Catholic 
Church,"  and  of  "Catholic  Councils, 
convened  in  the  name  of  Christ,  and 
whose  deliberations  are  overruled,  and 
their  decrees  authoritative," — in  the  idea 
of  the  "  Sacramental  character  of  Ordina- 
tion," conferred  by  persons  who  have 
derived  a  mystical  virtue  from  the  suc- 
cessive imposition  of  hands  up  to  the 
times  of  the  Apostles; — and  of  the 
"  priestly"  character,  (that  of  Hiereus) 
thus  imparted,  and  the  "Sacrifices"  offer- 
ed at  an  "  altar ;" — of  a  "  primitive  doc- 
trine always  to  be  found  somewhere  in 
the  Catholic  traditions,"  8tc. ;  especially 
when  these  matters  are  treated  of  in 
solemn  and  imposing  language,  of  that 
peculiar  kind  of  dazzling  mistiness  whose 
effect  is  to  convey,  at  first,  to  ordinary 
readers,  a  striking  impression,  with  an 
appearance  of  being  perfectly  intelligible 
at  the  first  glance,  but  to  become  more 
obscure  and  doubtful  at  the  second 
glance,  and  more  and  more  so,  the  more 
attentively  it  is  studied  by  a  reader  of 
clear  understanding;  so  as  to  leave  him 
utterly  in  doubt,  at  the  last,  which  of 
several  meanings  it  is  meant  to  convey, 
or  whether  any  at  all. 

The  rule  of  "  omne  ignotum  pro  miri- 
fico,"  applies  most  emphatically  to  such 
doctrines  treated  of  in  such  language. 
The  very  simplicity  and  plainness  of  the 
reasoning  by  which,  in  the  foregoing 
pages,  the  divine  authority  of  a  Christian 
Church,  and  consequently  of  its  regula- 
tions and  its  ministers,  are  deduced  direct 
from  the  sanction  given  by  Christ  Him- 
self as  interpreted  by  his  Apostles,  is 
likely  to  be,  to  some  minds,  no  recom- 
mendation, but  the  contrary. 

And  as  men  are  of  course  less  likely 
to  exercise  a  clear  and  unbiassed  judgment 
in  respect  of  any  theory  which  tends 
especially  to  exalt  their  own  persons,  and 
invest  them  with  mysterious  powers  and 
awful  dignity,  the  Clergy  accordingly  are 
under  a  peculiar  temptation*  to  lean  too 
favourably  and  with  too  little  of  rigorous 
examination,  towards  a  system  which 
confers  the  more  elevation  and  grandeur 
on  them,  in  proportion  as  it  detracts  from 


*  The  minds  of  many  persons  among  the  Laity 
are  so  constituted  as  to  make  the  same  temptation 
very  little  less  powerful  to  them,  than  to  the 
Priesthood;  for  reasons  set  forth  in  the  Essay 
(3d  Series)  on  «  Vicarious  Religion." 


SEDUCTION    OP  THE  FEELINGS  AND  IMAGINATION. 


69 


the  claims  of  the  entire  Community.     It 
is  not  the  most  flattering  to  them  to  be  , 
urged    to   say   continually,  not    only   in  | 
words,  but  by  their  conduct,  "  We  preach 
not  ourselves,  but  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord, 
and  us,  your  Servant,  for  Jesus'  sake;" —  I 
to  be   taught  that  they  are  merely   the 
Functionaries  of  the  particular  Church  of  • 
which  they  are  members, — that  it  is  in 
that  capacity  only  that  they  derive  their 
station  and  power  from  Christ,  by  virtue 
of  the  sanction  given  by  Him  to  Christian 
Communities ; — that  their  authority  there-  j 
fore  comes  direct   from  the   society  so  j 
constituted,  in  whose  name  and  behalf  , 
they  act,  as  its  representatives,  just  to 
that  extent  to  which  it  has  empowered 
and  directed  them  to  act.     These  views  ; 
do  indeed  leave  them  a  most  awfully  im- 
portant and  dignified  office,  as  Servants 
in  "  the  House  of  God," — (the  "  Temple 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,")— as  Stewards  (i.  e.  ; 
dispensers ;  oix«»*p»o»)   of  divine  truth  to  ; 
his    People,   and    as    Messengers    from  i 
Christ,  (so  far  as  they  "  set  forth  his  true 
and  lively  word,  and  duly  administer  his 
Holy  Sacraments,")  as  having  been  ap- 
pointed   conformably   to  his    will.     But 
although  their  title  is  thus  placed  on  the 
secure  basis  of  a  clear  divine   sanction 
given,  once  for  all,  to  every  regularly-ap-  ! 
pointed  Minister  of  any  Christian  Com- 
munity constituted  on  Gospel  principles, ' 
instead   of  being  made   to  depend  on  a  j 
long  chain,  the  soundness   of  many  of 
whose  links  cannot  be  ascertained,  yet 
this  last  is  a  system  more  flattering  to 
human  weakness ;  inasmuch  as  it  repre- 
sents   the   Priesthood   as   comparatively 
independent  of  each  particular  Church, 
and  derives  their  Church's  authority  rather 
from    them    than   theirs    from   it.     And 
accordingly  so  strong  is  the  prejudice  in 
the  minds  of  many  persons  in  favour  of 
this  system,  that  to  rest  the  claims  of  a 
Christian  Ministry  on  the  basis  of  the 
divinely  sanctioned  institution  of  a  Chris- 
tian Church,  would  appear  to  them  to  be 
making  the  Ministry  altogether  a  human 
ordinance,  though  in  truth,  its  claim  to  be 
a  divine  Ordinance    rests   on   that  very 
sanction:    so   completely   do   they   lose 
sight  of  the  whole  character  of  a  Church, 
and  of  a  Community.     I  remember  seeing 
a  censure  passed  on  some  one  who  had 
presumed  to  appoint  another  as  a  Bishop; 
not  on  the  ground  (which  would  have 
been  a  very  just  one)  of  his  having  no 
authority  from  any  Church  to  make  the 
appointment,  but  on  the  ground  of  his 
not  being  himself  a  Bishop*  for  how — it 


was  urged — can  a  spring  rise  above  the 
level  of  its  source  ?  how  can  an  individual 
appoint  another  to  an  ecclesiastical  oflice 
higher  than  he  himself  holds?  How  in- 
deed,— it  might  have  been  added — can 
any  individual,  whether  Bishop  or  not, 
appoint  another  to  any  office, — high  or 
low — unless  authorized  by  the  Commu- 
nity to  do  so?  For  an  individual  to  pre- 
tend to  create  another  a  King,  or  a 
Magistrate  of  any  other  description,  or 
the  humblest  civil  Functionary, — even 
though  he  were  himself  a  King, — without 
lawful  authority  from  the  Community  to 
make  such  appointment,  would  be  regarded 
as  a  most  extravagant  and  absurd  assump- 
tion. On  the  other  hand  a  Community,  and 
consequently  those  acting  under  its  sanc- 
tion, may  appoint  a  man  to  an  office 
higher  than  is  possessed  by  any  of  the 
individuals  who  perform  that  act;  as  is 
the  case,  for  instance,  in  the  election  of  a 
member  of  Parliament.  And  in  the  case 
of  the  supposed  shipwrecked  emigrants 
above  adverted  to,  no  reasonable  man 
could  doubt  their  right  to  elect  one  of 
their  number  as  their  King.  But  in  the 
case  of  ecclesiastical  Communities,  many 
persons  are  found  to  advocate  that  fanci- 
ful and  groundless  system  which  goes  to 
deprive  these  of  all  the  rights  which 
Christ's  sanction,  of  such  a  Community 
confers.  For,  according  to  this  system, 
the  sacramental  virtue  of  Holy  Orders, 
which  is  indispensable  for  all  the  Chris- 
tian Ordinances  and  means  of  Grace,  is 
inherent  indefeasibly  in  each  individual, 
who  has  derived  it,  in,  no  degree  from 
any  particular  Community,  but  solely 
from  the  Bishop  whose  hands  were  laid 
on  him ;  who  derived  his  power  to  ad- 
minister this  sacrament,  altogether  from 
Consecration  by  another  Bishop — not 
necessarily  a  member  of  the  same  parti- 
cular Church,  but  obtaining  his  power 
again  from  another;  and  so  on,  up  to 
the  apostolic  times.  On  this  system  the 
Church  is  made  a  sort  of  appendage  to 
the  Priesthood ;  not  the  Ministry,  to  the 
Church.*  A  People  separated  from  their 


*  That  pernicious  popular  error,  which  con- 
founds the  Church  with  the  Clergy  (see  note  to 
§  33,)  as  if  the  Spiritual  Community  consisted 
only  of  its  Officers,  is  partly  kept  up  perhaps  by 
men's  neglecting  to  notice  one  peculiarity  belong- 
ing to  Christ's  kingdom,  at  its  first  establishment  : 
viz.,  that  it  did,  then,  consist  of  Ministers  only  ; 
though  it  was  by  no  means  designed  so  to  con- 
tinue. All  the  Disciples  who  constituted  the 
infant  Church  were  those  destined  to  be  employed 
in  various  offices  therein :  so  that  an  inattentive 


TO 


CASE  OF  DEPOSED  BISHOPS  AND  PRESBYTERS. 


Ministers  by  some  incurable  disagreement 
as  to  Christian  doctrine,  even  supposing 
these  last  to  have  occasioned  it  by  an 
utter  apostacy  from  Gospel  truth, — would 
be  left  (supposing  they  could  not  obtain 
other  ministers  qualified  by  the  same 
kind  of  transmission  of  sacramental  vir- 
tue) totally  and  finally  shut  out  from  the 
pale  of  Christ's  universal  Church,  and 
from  his  "  covenanted  mercies  ;"  while 
the  Ministers,  on  the  contrary,  though 
they  might  be  prohibited  by  civil  author- 
ity, or  prevented  by  physical  force,  from 
exercising  their  functions  within  a  parti- 
cular district,  would  still,  even  though 
anti-christian  in  doctrine  and  in  life,  retain 
their  office  and  dignity  unimpaired, — the 
sacramental  virtue  conferred  on  them  by 
Ordination,  and  the  consequent  efficacy 
of  their  acts,  undiminished. 

§  39.  And  this  is  not  merely  an  infer- 
ence fairly  deducible  from  the  principles 
of  the  system.  I  have  even  met  with 
persons  who  acknowledged  that,  if  a 
Bishop,  of  our  own  Church  for  instance, 
who  had  been,  for  some  crime,  removed 
and  degraded  by  regular  process,  should 
think  proper  afterwards  to  ordain  men 
Priests  or  Deacons,  though  he  and  they 
would  be  legally  punishable,  still  his 
Ordinations  would  be  valid,  and  these 
men  consequently  (however  morally 
unfit)  real  Clergymen,  capable  of  exer- 
cising the  spiritual  functions.  This  is  to 
recognize  a  fearful  power,  and  that, 
placed  in  the  very  worst  hands,  of  pro- 
ducing and  keeping  up  schism  with  some- 
thing of  an  apparent  divine  sanction  to 
give  it  strength.*  For,  on  this  principle, 
a  Bishop  of  some  other  Church — the 
Roman  Catholic  for  instance,  or  the 
Greek — who  should  have  been  ejected 
from  his  Diocess,  might  take  upon  him 
to  ordain  men  according  to  the  rites  of 
our  Church,  and  we  should  be  bound  to 
recognize  his  ordinations  as  valid. 

I  need  hardly  remark,  that,  according 
to  the  principles  I  have  been  endeavour- 
ing to  maintain,  a  Bishop  when  removed 
from  his  Diocess,  (whether  for  any 
crime,  or  otherwise)  and  not  appointed  to 
any  other,  though  he  may  continue  a 
member  of  the  Episcopal  Order,  (unless 
regularly  removed  from  it  by  competent 
autliority,|)  ceases  altogether,  ipso  facto, 

reader  is  liable  to  confound  together  what  our 
Lord  said  to  them  as  Ministers,  and  what  as 
Members  ; — as  Rulers  of  a  Church,  and  as  the 
Church  itself. 

*  See  above,  §  32. 

\  For  it  is  evident  that  as,  in  respect  of  Church 


to  be  a  Bishop,  in  respect  of  Episcopal 
functions;  and  has  no  more  right  to 
ordain,  or  to  perform  any  other  act,  in 
the  capacity  of  a  Bishop,  than  a  Layman 
would  have  :  that  is,  till  the  same,  or 
some  other  Christian  Church  shall  think, 
proper  to  receive  him  in  that  capacity.* 

If  indeed  any  Church  should  be  so 
very  unwise  as  to  recognize  as  Clergy- 
men persons  ordained  by  a  deprived 
Bishop,  these  would  undoubtedly  be 
Ministers  of  that  Church  ;  because  that 
recognition  would  constitute  them  such  ; 
and  a  Christian  Community  has  power 
(though  in  that  case  there  would  be  a 
gross  abuse  of  its  power)  to  determine 
who  shall  be  its  Officers.  But  what  I 
am  contending  against  is,  the  notion  of 
an  inherent  indefeasible  sacramental  vir- 
tue conveyed  by  the  imposition  of  hands, 
and  giving  validity  to  the  official  acts, 
regular  or  irregular,  of  the  persons  pos- 
sessing it.  And  this  does  seem  to  me  a 
most  pernicious  as  well  as  groundless 
tenet,  tending  to  destroy  the  rightful 
authority  of  a  Church,  by  unduly  exalt- 
ing the  pretended  privileges  of  its  Func- 
tionaries. 

On  the  same  principle  which  has  been 
now  set  forth  in  respect  of  Bishops,  the 
acts  of  a  Presbyter  or  Deacon,  or  other 
Minister  of  any  Church,  cease  to  be  valid, 
as  soon  as  ever  the  Christian  Community 
in  which  he  was  appointed,  withdraws  its 
sanction  from  his  acts.  If  another  Church 
think  fit  to  receive  him  as  a  Minister,  they 
have  an  undoubted  right  to  do  so;  and  he 
then  becomes  a  Minister  of  that  Church. 
So  he  does  also,  when  not  expelled  from 
the  Society  to  which  he  originally  belong- 
ed, supposing  the  Church  to  which  he 
transfers  himself  thinks  Jit  to  recognize  the 
Ordinations  of  the  other;  which  they  may 
do,  or  refuse  to  do,  entirely  at  their  own 
discretion.  This  is  a  point  which  every 


regulations,  the  powers  of  "  binding"  and  of 
«  loosing''  have,  equally,  the  divine  sanction,  so, 
the  power  of  any  Christian  Church  to  admit 
any  one,  either  simply  into  the  number  of  its 
Members,  or  into  any  particular  Order  or  Office, 
implies  a  power  to  remove  him  from  either,  when 
the  case  shall  be  such  as  to  call  for  his  removal. 

*  For  a  Bishop,  it  should  be  observed,  does  not, 
in  becoming  such,  enter  on  a  new  Profession,  (as 
he  did  on  taking  orders)  but  only  on  a  new  de- 
scription of  Office  in  his  profession.  A  person 
may  indeed,  as  I  have  said,  continue  to  belong  to 
a  certain  Order  of  Clergy,  though  with  suspended 
functions  ;  but  the  important  point  to  be  insisted 
on  is,  that  no  official  acts  have  any  validity  but 
what  is  derived  from  the  Community  to  which, 
in  each  case,  the  Officer  belongs. 


TRADITION   NOT  CLEAR. 


71 


Church  has  a  full  right  to  determine  ac- 
cording to  its  own  judgment. 

And  as  for  the  individual  himself  who 
is  regularly  deprived  by  his  Church,  if,  on 
becoming  a  Clergyman,  he  engaged  (as 
is  required  by,  ]  believe,  most  existing 
Churches)  that  he  would  follow  no  other 
profession,*  of  course  he  cannot  absolve 
himself  from  that  engagement ;  but  must 
continue  so  far  a  Clergyman,  though  with 
suspended  functions.  Moreover  a  Church 
has  a  right, — though  I  think  such  a  regu- 
lation a  very  unwise  one, — to  recognize 
as  valid  the  acts  of  a  degraded  Minister; 
(while  subjecting  him  nevertheless  to 
penalties  for  performing  such  acts)  or  of 
a  Layman. 

Concerning  several  points  of  this  class, 
— such  as  the  validity  of  lay-baptism,  or 
of  baptism  by  heretics  or  schismatics,  &c., 
questions  have  been  often  raised,  which 
have  been  involved  in  much  unnecessaiy 
perplexity,  from  its  being  common  to  mix 
up  together  what  are  in  fact  several  dis- 
tinct questions,  though  relating  to  the  same 
subject.  For  instance,  in  respect  of  the 
validity  of  Lay-baptism,  three  important 
and  perfectly  distinct  questions  may  be 
raised;  no  one  of  which  is  answered  by 
the  answering,  either  way,  of  the  others  : 
viz.,  1st.  What  has  a  Church  the  right  to 
determine  as  to  this  point?  2dly.  What 
is  the  wisest  and  best  determination  it  can 
make  ?  and,  3dly.  What  has  this  or  that 
particular  Church  actually  determined  ? 
Now  persons  who  are  agreed  concerning 
the  answer  to  one  of  these  questions,  may 
yet  differ  concerning  the  others;  and  vice 
versd.'f 

r  §  40.  But  to  return  to  the  consideration, 
generally,  of  the  whole  system  of  what  is 
called  "  Catholic  tradition,"  &c.,  which  I 
have  been  censuring;  it  is  calculated,  as 
has  been  said,  to  produce  at  the  first  glance 
a  striking  and  imposing  effect,  and  to  re- 
commend itself  strongly  to  the  imagination 
and  the  feelings  of  some  persons :  but  will 
not  stand  the  test  of  a  close  examination. 
The  advocates  of  these  doctrines,  accord- 
ingly, either  from  a  consciousness  of  this, 
or  else  from  indistinctness  in  their  own 
conception,  often  set  them  forth  with 


*  It  would  be,  I  am  convinced,  very  advantage- 
ous that  this  rule  should  be  modified  as  regards 
Deacons.  We  might  avail  ourselves  of  the  ser- 
vices of  some  very  useful  assistants,  if  we  would 
admit  to  this  subordinate  office  some  who  could 
not  maintain  themselves  wholly,  without  resorting 
(as  the  Apostle  Paul  did)  to  some  secular  em- 
ployment. 

-f  See  Appendix,  Note  (0.) 


something  of  oracular  obscurity  and  am- 
biguity, half  concealed  behind  a  veil,  as  it 
were,  of  mystery;  as  something  of  which 
the  full  import  and  complete  proof  were 
to  be  reserved  for  a  chosen  few.     And 
when  clear  evidence  is  demanded  of  a  suf- 
ficient foundation  for  the  high  pretensions 
put  forth,  and  the  implicit  submission  that 
is  demanded,  we  are  sometimes  met  by  a 
rebuke  of  the  "  pride  of  human  intellect,'' 
and  of  the  presumptuous  expectation  of 
j  having  every  thing  that  we  are  to  believe 
j  made  perfectly  level  to  our  understanding, 
|  and  satisfactorily  explained. 

No  one,  it  may  be  said,  would  believe 
in  God,  if  he  were  to  insist  on  first  ob- 
taining a  clear  and  full  comprehension  of 
the  nature  and  attributes  of  such  a  Being; 
an  explanation, — such  as  no  man  of  sense 
would  think  of  giving,  or  of  seeking, — of 
the  divine  attributes,  brought  down  to  the 
capacity  of  such  a  Being  as  Man.  Nor 
would  any  one  believe  in  the  Christian 
Revelation,  if  he  were  to  require,  pre- 
viously, to  have  a  clear  and  full  compre- 
hension of  the  mysteries  of  the  Incarna- 
tion, of  the  Redemption,  of  the  Trinity, 
and  of  every  thing  else  appertaining  to  the 
Gospel  scheme.  We  must  content  our- 
selves, therefore,  we  are  told,  with  faint, 
indistinct,  and  imperfect  notions  on  reli- 
gious subjects,  unless  we  would  incur  de- 
served censure  for  want  of  faith. 

How  often  and  how  successfully  the 
fallacy  here  sketched  out  has  been  em- 
ployed, is  really  wonderful,  considering 
how  totally  different  and  entirely  uncon- 
nected are  the  two  things  which  are  thus 
confounded  together;  the  clear  or  indis- 
tinct notion  of  the  subject  matter  itself, — 
of  the  fact  or  proposition — that  is  before 
us ;  and,  the  clear  or  indistinct  notion  of 
the  evidence  of  it, — of  the  reasons  for  be- 
lieving it.  A  moment's  reflection  is  suf- 
ficient for  any  one  to  perceive  the  differ- 
ence between  the  two;  and  yet,  in  the 
loose  language  of  careless  or  sophistical 
argument,  they  are  continually  confused 
together,  and  spoken  of  indiscriminately, 
as  if  they  were  the  same  thing. 

Every  one,  whether  possessing  Chris- 
tian faith  or  not,  believes  firmly, — and 
must  believe, — and  that,  on  the  clearest 
evidence, — in  the  existence  of  many  things 
concerning  which  he  has  but  a  very  im- 
perfect knowledge,  and  can  form  but  in- 
distinct and  confused  ideas  of  their  nature  ; 
while  to  believe  in  whatever  is  proposed 
to  us  without  any  clear  proof  that  it  is 
true, — with  an  imperfect  and  indistinct  ap- 
prehension of  any  reason  for  believing  it, — 


72 


FALLACIES  ON  RELIGIOUS  SUBJECTS. 


is  usually  regarded  as  a  mark  of  credulous    sense  ever  confounds  together  two  things 
weakness.     And  on  the  other  hand,  some    so  dissimilar  and    unconnected  as  those 


description,  narrative,  or  statement,  may 
be,  in  itself,  perfectly  clear  and  intelligible, 
and  yet  may  be  very  doubtful  as  to  its 
truth,  or  may  be  wholly  undeserving  of 
credit. 

For  instance,  there  is,  I  suppose,  no 
one  who  seriously  doubts  the  existence  of 
something  which  we  call  Soul — or  Mind — 


I  have  been  speaking  cf.  But  in  what 
pertains  to  religion,  the  fallacy  is,  as  I  have 
said,  often  introduced.  Yet  Religion  does 
not,  in  this  respect,  really  differ  from  other 
subjects. 

Our  Saviour's  character  and  his  teaching 
were  matter  of  wondering  perplexity  to  all 
around  Him ;  even  in  a  far  greater  degree 


be  it  Substance  or  Attribute,  material  or  j  than  after  the  establishment  of  his  King- 
immaterial — and  of  the  mutual  connexion  j  dom,  on  his  personal  ministry  being  corn- 
between  it  and  the  Body.  Yet  how  very  j  pleted;  both  because  the  Jews  were  full 


faint  and  imperfect  a  notion  it  is  that  we 
can  form  of  it,  and  of  many  of  its  pheno- 
mena that  are  of  daily  occurrence !  The 


of  the  expectation  of  a  totally  different 
kind  of  Deliverer,  and  because  great  part 
of  his  discourses  were  not  even  designed 


partial  suspension  of  mental  and  bodily  to  be  fully  intelligible,  at  the  time,  to  his 
functions  during  Sleep, — the  effects  of  i  own  disciples  ;  but  to  be  explained  after- 
opium  and  other  drugs,  on  both  body  and  i  wards  by  the  occurrence  of  the  events 
mind;  the  influence  again  exercised  by  He  alluded  to.  Some  of  his  followers, 
volition,  and  by  various  mental  emotions,!  accordingly,  "went  back  and  walked  no 
on  the  muscles,  and  on  other  parts  of  the  j  more  with  him,"  on  the  occasion  of  one 
bodily  frame,  and  many  other  of  these  of  those  discourses.  But  the  Apostles, 
phenomena,  have  exercised  for  ages  the  j  who  adhered  to  Him,  did  so,  neither  from 
ingenuity  of  the  ablest  men  to  find  even  |  having  any  clearer  notions  concerning  his 
any  approximation  towards  but  an  imper-  !  revelations  (for  we  often  find  it  recorded 
feet  explanation  of  them.  Yet  the  evidence  that  "  they  understood  not  this  saying," 
on  which  we  believe  in  the  reality  of  these  &.c. ;)  nor  again,  from  being  satisfied  to  be- 


and  of  many  other  things  no  less  dimly 
and  partially  understood,  is  perfect. 

On    the    other   hand,    the    characters, 
transactions,  &c.,  represented  by  dramatic 


lieve  without  any  clear  proof  of  his  high 
pretensions ;  but  because  they  "  believed, 
and  were  sure  that  He  was  the  Christ,  the 
Son  of  the  living  God,"  on  such  evidence 


writers,  or  described  by  historians,  are ,  as  He  had  Himself  appealed  to :  "  the 
often  as  clearly  intelligible  as  it  is  pos-  works  that  I  do  in  my  father's  name,  they 
sible  for  any  thing  to  be  ;  yet  from  the  j  bear  witness  of  me."  Dim,  and  indistinct, 
total  want  of  evidence,  or  from  the  want  and  imperfect  as  were  still  their  notions 
of  clear  and  decisive  evidence,  as  to  their  j  (as,  to  a  great  degree,  ours  must  be  also) 
reality,  we  regard  them  as  either  entire '  concerning  "  the  Son  of  God,"  it  was  no 
fictions,  or  mixtures  of  fable  and  truth,  or  indistinct  or  imperfect  evidence  on  which 
as  more  or  less  likely  to  have  actually  ex-  they  believed  that  He  was  so. 
isted.*  The  character  and  conduct  of!  A  converse  case  is  that  of  the  several 
Lear,  for  instance,  or  Othello,  of  Hamlet,  false  Christs  who  afterwards  arose.  "  I 
and  Macbeth,  are  perfectly  intelligible  ; !  am  come,"  says  our  Lord,  "  in  my  Fa- 
though  it  is  very  doubtful  how  far  the !  ther's  name,"  (with  such  manifestations 
tales  which  suggested  to  Shakspeare  the  |  of  divine  power  as  testified  his  coming 
idea  of  most  of  his  dramas  had  any  founda-  j  from  God)  "and  ye  receive  me  not;  if 


tion  in  fact,  or  were  originally  fictitious. 
Many,  again,  of  the  Orations  recorded  by 
the  ancient  Greek  and  Roman  historians 
are  as  easily  and  plainly  to  be  understood 
as  any  that  are  reported  in  our  own  times ; 
but  in  what  degree  each  of  these  is  a  faith- 
ful record  of  what  was  actually  spoken,  is 
a  point  on  which  we  have,  in  some  cases, 


another  shall  come  in  his  own  name, 
(viz.  requiring  acceptance  on  his  own  bare 
word,  without  any  miraculous  credentials) 
"  him  ye  will  receive."*  "  Their  teaching, 
their  pretensions,  and  promises,  were  as 
clearly  intelligible  to  the  greater  part  of 
the  Jews — because  falling  in  with  the  pre- 
vailing belief  and  expectations, — as  those 


a  slight  and  imperfect  evidence;  and  in  j  of  Jesus  had  been  (even  to  his  own  dis- 
others,  none  that  deserves  the  name.  j  ciples)  obscure,  perplexing,  or  unintel- 
§  41.  In  all  subjects  where  religion  is  ligible.  Accordingly,  vast  multitudes  fol- 
n< 


lot  concerned,  no  one  of  ordinary  good 


~*  See  Khetoric,  parti,  c.  2,  §  2.      "On  the 

plausible  and  the  historically  probable." 


*  See  Sermon,  on  the  "  Name  Emmanuel ;" 
and  also  Cruden's  Concordance  on  the  word 
"Name." 


FALSE  VIEWS  OF  WHAT  IS  FAITH. 


73 


lowed  these  pretenders,  without  requiring  !  ing,  "Thus  saith  the  Lord;  when  the 
any  clear  and  sufficient  evidence  of  the  j  Lord  hath  not  spoken,"  are  no  more 
trnth^  their  pretensions:  and  they  follow-  j  exempt  from  the  guilt  of  enticing  to 
ed  them  to  their  own  and  their  Country's  idolatry,  than  the  worshippers  of  Baal. 

*  The  more  disposed  any  one  is  to  sub- 
missive veneration,  the  greater  the  import- 
ance of  guarding  him  against  misdirected 
veneration  ; — against  false  piety ;  against 
reverencing  as  divine,  what  in  reality  is 


rum. 


The  very  history  of  our  own  religion, 
therefore,  supplies  us  here  with  an  illus- 
tration of  the  distinction  I  have  been 
speaking  of.  On  the  one  side  we  have  a 


revelation,  itself  dimly  and  partially  un-  human.  And  the  more  awfully  import- 
derstood,  and  doubtful,  in  great  part,  as  ant  any  question  is,  the  greater  is  the  call 
to  its  meaning,  but  with  clear  evidence  for  a  rigid  investigation  of  what  may  be 


that  it  really  came  from  God :    on  the 


urged  on  both  sides;    that  the  decision 


other,  a  pretended  revelation,  containing,   may  be  made    on    sound,  rational,  and 
to  those  it  was  proposed  to,  no  doubts  or  I  scriptural  grounds,  and  not  according  to 
difficulties  as  to  its  sense  and  its  design,   the  dictates  of  excited  feelings  and  ima- 
but  supported  by  no  evidence  that  could  agination, 
satisfy  an  unprejudiced  mind,  bent  on  the  r    And  in  these  times  especially,  and  in 


attainment  of  truth. 


respect  of  this  subject,  men  need  to  be 


§  42.  However  plausible  then  the  sys-  |  warned  against  a  mistake  which  at  all 
tern  I  have  been  objecting  to  may  appear  j  times  is  not  uncommon ; — that  of  allow- 
to  any  one, — however  imposing  and  mys-  ing  themselves  to  be  misled  by  names 
teriously  sublime, — however  gratifying  |  and  professions,  which  are  often — appa- 
and  consolatory  to  the  feelings — let  him  |  rently  by  designed  choice, — the  most 
not  therefore  neglect  to  inquire  for  the  I  opposite  to  the  things  really  intended, 
proofs  by  which  its  high  pretensions  are  j  Thus,  for  instance,  the  term  "  Apostoli- 
to  be  sustained ;  but  rather  examine  with  j  cal"  is  perpetually  in  the  mouths  of  some 
the  more  care  the  foundation  on  which  so  who  the  most  completely  set  at  nought 


vast  a  superstructure  is  made  to  rest.  Let 
no  one  be  deterred  from  this  by  fierce  de- 
nunciations against  the  presumptuousness 
of  all  inquiry,  and  all  use  of  private  judg- 
ment in  religious  matters ;  and  by  eulo- 
gies on  the  virtue  of  faith ;  remembering 
that  the  "faith"  thus  recommended  is 
precisely  that  want  of  faith  for  which 
those  Jews  just  mentioned  were  so  se- 
verely condemned.  They  refused  to 
listen  to  good  evidence,  and  assented  to 
that  which  was  worthless. 

And  let  no  one  allow  himself  to  be 


the  principles  which  the  Apostles  have 
laid  down  for  our  guidance  in  the  inspired 
writings  ;  and  who  virtually  nullify  these 
by  blending  with  them  the  traditions  of 
uninspired  men.  None  more  loudly  cen- 
sure the  u  pride  of  human  intellect,"  and 
inculcate  "  pious  humility,"  than  those 
who  are  guilty  of  the  profane  presump- 
tion of  exalting  fallible  Man  to  a  level 
with  God's  inspired  messengers,  and  of 
deciding  how  far  they  shall  impart,  or 
the  truths  which  God  has 
The  evils  of  "  schism"  again, 


"  reserve,' 
revealed.* 


persuaded  that  he  is  evincing  an  humble   are  especially  dwelt  on  by  some  who 


piety,  acceptable  to  the  "jealous  God," 
in  hastily  giving  credence  to  the  preten- 
sions to  divine  authority  put  forth  in  be- 
half of  uninspired  men,  (not  producing 
the  miraculous  "  Signs  of  an  Apostle")  by 
those  who  are  for  blending  "Tradition 


maintain  principles  the  tendency  of  which 
has  been  shown  to  be  to  generate  and 
perpetuate  schism.  To  satisfy  and  u  set- 
tle men's  minds,"  is  the  profession  of 
some  whose  principles  lead  (as  has  been 
above  remarked)  in  proportion  as  each 


with  Scripture,"  and  "  following  the  die-  j  man  has  the  most  tender  conscience,  and 


tates  of  inspiration  wherever  found, 
whether  in  Scripture  or  Antiquity ;"  and 
who  pronounce  according  to  their  own 
arbitrary  choice,  what  are,  and  what  are 


the  greatest  anxiety  about  religious  truth, 
to  perplex  and  torment  him  with  in- 
curable doubts  and  scruples.  "Church- 
principles"  is  a  favourite  phrase  with 


not,  the  general  Councils  whose  "  deli- !  some  who  are,  in  fact,  lowering  the  just 
berations  were  overruled  by  the  Holy  dignity  and  impairing  the  divinely-con- 
Spirit,  and  their  decrees  consequently  j  ferred  rights  of  a  Church.  And  none 
authoritative."  \  more  loudly  profess  devoted  and  submis- 

u  If  any  of  these  entice  thee  secretly,  j  sive  admiration  for  the  Anglican  Church, 
saying,  Let  us  go  after  other  Gods,  thou  j  than  many  of  those  who  are  emphatically 
shall  not  hearken  unto  him."  And  those 


who  speak  in  the  name  of  Jehovah,  say- 


*  See  Appendix,  Note  (P.) 
7 


74 


PRINCIPLES  OF  THE  ANGLICAN  CHURCH. 


opposed,  in  some  of  the  most  important 
points,  to  the  principles  on  which  our 
Reformers  proceeded,  and  the  spirit  which 
actuated  them  throughout. 

If  any  one  is  deliberately  convinced 
that  those  their  fundamental  principles 
are  erroneous,  and  that  they  rested  the 
doctrines  and  institutions  of  our  Church 
on  a  wrong  basis,  he  deserves  credit  at 
least  for  honest  consistency  in  leaving  its 
communion. 

§  43.  But  to  me  it  does  appear,  that — 
without  attributing  to  them  an  infallibility 
which  they  expressly  disclaim — we  may 
justly  give  our  Reformers  credit  for  such 
sound  views,  and  such  resolute  adherence 
to  evangelical  truth,  combined  with  such 
moderation  and  discretion,  as  were — con- 
sidering the  difficult  circumstances  they 
were  placed  in, — truly  wonderful;  and 
such  as  are,  in  all  times,  and  not  least  in 
the  present,  well  worthy  of  imitation.  It 
was  their  u  wisdom  to  keep  the  mean"  (as 
is  expressed  in  the  preface  to  the  Book  of 
Common  Prayer)  "  between  the  two  ex- 
tremes, of  too  much  stiffness  in  refusing, 
and  too  much  easiness  in  admitting,  any 
variation."  It  was  their  wisdom  also  to 
"  keep  the  mean"  between  the  claims — 
never  conflicting,  except  when  misunder- 
stood— of  Scripture  and  of  a  Church.  It 
was  their  wisdom  to  keep  the  mean  be- 
tween a  slavish  bondage  to  ancient  prece- 
dents on  the  one  hand,  and  a  wanton  and 
arrogant  disregard  of  them,  on  the  other. 
It  was  their  wisdom — their  pious  and 
Christian  wisdom— to  keep  the  mean 
between  rash  and  uncharitable  judgment 
of  other  Churches,  and  equally  rash 
carelessness,  or  fondness  for  innovation,  j 
in  the  regulations  of  their  own.  They  ] 
conformed  as  closely  as,  in  their  judgment, ! 
circumstances  would  warrant,  to  the  ex-  j 
amples  of  the  earliest  Churches,  without 
for  an  instant  abandoning  the  rightful 
claims  of  their  own,  and  without  arro- 
gantly pronouncing  censure  on  those 
whose  circumstances  had  led  them  to  de- 
part farther  from  those  ancient  precedents. 
Their  "  Faith"  they  drew  from  the  Scrip- 
tures ;  their  "  Hope"  they  based  on  the 
Scriptures ;  their  u  Charity"  they  learned 
from  the  Scriptures. 

A  member  of  the  Anglican  Church, — I 
mean,  a  sincere  and  thoroughly  consistent 
member  of  it — ought  to  feel  a  full  convic- 
tion— and  surely  there  are  good  grounds 
for  that  conviction, — both  that  the  reforms 
they  introduced  were  no  more  than  were 
loudly  called  for  by  a  regard  for  Gospel 


truth,  and  that  the  Church  as  constituted 
by  them  does  possess,  in  its  regulations 
and  its  officers,  u  Apostolical  succession," 
in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  essential  that  a 
Christian  Community  should  possess  it; 
viz.: — it  being  a  regularly  constituted 
Christian  Society,  framed  in  accordance 
with  the  fundamental  principles  taught  us 
by  the  Apostles  and  their  great  Master. 

Successors,  in  the  Apostolic  office,  the 
Apostles  have  none.  As  witnesses  of  the 
Resurrection, — as  Dispensers  of  miracu- 
lous gifts, — as  inspired  Oracles  of  divine 
Revelation, — they  have  no  successors. 
But  as  J\Ie?nbers, — as  Ministers, — as  Go- 
vernors— of  Christian  Communities,  their 
successors  are  the  regularly  admitted 
Members, — the  lawfully  ordained  Minis- 
ters,— the  regular  and  recognized  Govern- 
ors,— of  a  regularly  subsisting  Christian 
Church;  especially  of  a  Church  which, 
conforming  in  fundamentals, — as  I  am 
persuaded  ours  does, — to  Gospel  princi- 
ples, claims  and  exercises  no  rights  be- 
yond those  which  have  the  clear  sanction 
of  our  great  Master,  as  being  essentially 
implied  in  the  very  character  of  a  Com- 
munity. 

May  the  members  of  a  Church  which 
our  Reformers  cleansed  of  so  much  cor- 
ruption, and  placed  on  its  true  basis,  have 
the  grace  to  profit  by  their  example,  and 
follow  out  their  fundamental  principles; 
labouring  to  be  apostolical  "not  in  mere 
words  and  names  but  in  deed  and  truth;" 
actuated  by  the  same  spirit  which  was 
found  in  those  great  and  good  men,  so  far 
as  they  decreed  what  is  agreeable  to  God's 
word,  and  to  the  "pure  and  peaceable 
wisdom  that  is  from  above."  And  espe- 
cially may  all  who  profess  Church  prin- 
ciples be  careful  to  guard  themselves  and 
others  against  the  two  most  prevailing 
errors  of  these  days; — the  two  kinds  of 
encroachments  on  the  legitimate  rights  of 
a  Church;  on  the  one  side  by  presump- 
tuous and  self-sufficient  irregularities,  and 
defiance  of  lawful  authority;  and  by  the 
pretensions  of  supposed  "Antiquity"  and 
"  Tradition,"  on  the  other ;  that  they  may 
be  enabled,  under  the  divine  blessing,  to 
carry  into  effect  more  and  more  fully,  and 
to  bring  to  completion  uall  the  holy  de- 
sires, all  the  good  counsels,  and  all  the 
just  works"  of  our  Reformers,  and  of  all 
other  our  predecessors,  as  many  as  have 
endeavoured,  in  simplicity  and  truth,  to 
conform  to  the  instructions  of  our  divine 
Master  and  his  Apostles. 


APPENDIX. 


NOTE  (A.)    Pp.  71,  18,  63. 
I  HAVE  said, "  secular  empire"  and  a ft  mo- 


of  citizens,,  and  reduce,  moie  or  less,  to  the 
condition  of  vassals  or  Helots,  those  who 
do  not  profess  the  religion  which  the  State, 


nopoly  of  civil  privileges  and  powers,"  be-  j  as  such,  enjoins, — these  are  widely  different 
cause  the  rule  does  not  apply  to  such  as  are  I  indeed,  in  respect  of  the  actual  amount  of 
purely  ecclesiastical.  The  government  of  the  evil  inflicted,  or  of  good  denied  to  indivi- 
Church  (except  as  far  as  relates  to  tempora-  duals ;  but  the  principle  is  in  all  these  cases 
lities,  which  are  clearly  the  property  of  the  the  same ;  viz. :  the  assumed  right  of  the 

Secular  Government,  as  such,  to  interfere 
with  men's  conscience,  and   consequently 


Nation)  ought  to  be  monopolized  by  mem 
bersof  that  Church.    It  is  an  unseemly,  and 


in  many  respects  mischievous,  anomaly, 
that,  in  purely  religious  matters  any  au- 
thority should  be  possessed  (as  is  the  case 
in  this  country)  by  those  who  are  not  mem- 
bers of  the  religious  community.  [See  "Ap- 
peal on  behalf  of  Church-government,"  a 
valuable  and  well- written  pamphlet.  Houls- 
ton  and  Co.] 

It  is  true  that  the  greatest  evils  that  might 
arise  from  such  an  anomaly, — vexatious  and 
oppressive  interference  in  matters  that  affect 
the  conscience — do  not  arise  in  this  country. 
No  greater  evril  does  result  in  practice  than 
that  (no  small  one  however)  of  leaving  the 
Church  virtually  without  any  legislative  Go- 
vernment. But  even  if  this  were  a  less  evil 
than  it  is,  it  would  not  be  the  less  true  as  a 
principle,  that  none  ought  to  have  any  share 
in  the  government  (except — as  I  have  said 
— in  respect  of  secular  matters)  of  a  Church, 
who  are  not  members  of  it. 

There  are  some  however  who,  from  want 
of  the  habit  of  attentive  reflection,  are  with 
difficulty  brought  to  perceive  the  unsound- 
ness  of  any  false  principle,  except  when  it  is 
fully  developed  in  practice,  and  produces,  ac- 
tually, all  the  ill  effects  that  it  can  consistently 
lead  to.  They  cannot  perceive  which  way  a 
wind  is  blowing  unless  it  blows  a  perfect  gale. 
They  not  merely  know  a  tree  only  by  its 
fruits,  but,  except  when  it  is  actually  bear- 
ing its  fruits  and  when  it  has  brought  them 
to  the  full  perfection  of  poisonous  maturity, 
they  do  not  recognize  the  tree. 

This    defect   may  often    be   observed 


(when  the  Government  calls  itself  Chris- 
tian) to  make  Christ's  kingdom,  so  far,  "a 
kingdom  of  this  world."  One  of  the  causes 
that  have  contributed  to  the  prevalence  of 
this  error,  is,  a  mistaken  view  of  the  nature 
of  that  supremacy  which  is  possesed  by  a  po- 
litical Community. 

The  office  of  a  Political  Society  or  State, 
— to  afford  protection  (as  all  admit  it  is 
bound  to  do)  to  the  citizens,  necessarily  im- 
plies a  coercive  power  over  all  of  them ;  and 
thence  over  other  Societies  of  which  any  of 
them  may  be  members.  Hence  the  political 
Society  must  be  (in  respect  of  power)  the 
"  highest ;"  and  the  Secular  Government — 
the  person  or  persons  in  whom  that  power 
is  vested,  being  as  it  were  the  centre  of  gra- 
vity in  which  the  whole  physical  force  of 
the  Community  is  collected,  and  acts, — must 
be,  in  this  sense,  "Supieme"  or  "Sove- 
reign;" (*t/£/o?,  according  to  the  ancient 
Greek  Philosophers)  as  not  being  responsible 
or  subject  to  any  other. 

Much  confusion  of  thought,  and  practical 
error  has  thence  arisen  in  some  minds;  es- 
pecially since,  in  any  question  that  may 
arise  whether  the  State  (the  Political  So- 
ciety) have  gone  beyond  its  proper  province, 
it  mustitself  be,  in  practice,  the  judge ;  there 
being  no  higher  authority,  on  earth,  to  ap- 
peal to.  It  can  do  nothing  (humanly  speak- 
ing) unlawfid,  since  it  has  the  power  to  make 
and  absolutely  enforce  laws. 

It  has  been  supposed,  for  instance,  that 
since  the  Political  Society  is  the  highest 


men's  judgments  on  another  point  also, —  !  (which  in  a  certain  sense  it  is)  it  must  have 
the  employment  of  secular  coercion  in  reli- !  for  its  ends  the  highest  objects; — that  it 
gious  matters,  with  a  view  either  to  compel  j  ought  to  propose  to  itself,  not,  like  any 
men  to  conform  to  the  faith  and  mode  of  other  kind  of  Society,  some  particular  good, 
worship  prescribed  by  the  Civil  government,  ;  but,  human  good,  generally; — the  welfare, 
or  to  give  more  or  less  of  political  ascend-  in  all  respects,  of  the  citizens ; — and  that 
ency,  and  monopoly  of  civil  rights  and  since  every  human  good  is  therefore  equally 
power,  to  those  of  a  particular  persuasion,  within  the  province  of  the  Secular  Govern- 
To  burn  dissenters  under  the  title  of  heretics,  i  ment,  the  greatest  good, — the  moral  welfare 
— or  to  put  them  to  a  less  cruel  death; — or  of  the  citizens,  and  the  salvation  of  their 
to  ban  i.sh,  or  fine  and  imprison  them, — or  to  souls, — must  be  especially  its  care:  and 
exclude  from  all,  or  from  some,  of  the  rights  i  hence  follows  the  right,  and  the  duty,  of 

75 


T6 


APPENDIX. 


putting  down  heresy  by  the  civil  sword  ; 
since  if  it  would  he  unjustifiable  for  the  Ma- 
gistrate to  tolerate  the  circulation  of  coun- 
terfeit money.,  much  more,  that  of  false 
doctrine.  And  the  moral  as  well  as  religious 
welfare  of  the  citizens  being  entrusted  to 
his  care,  he  must  take  upon  himself  to  de- 
termine both  what  is  true  Religion,  and  also 
what  is  morally  right ;  according  to  the  doc- 
trine of  Hobbes  in  his  "Leviathan.'7 

I  have  no  doubt  that  many  advocates  of 
the  principle  in  question  do  not  meanio  ad- 
vocate either  religious  persecution  or  Hob- 
bism  :  but  I  am  speaking  of  the  logical  con- 
nexion of  these  consequences  with  that 
principle. 

All  this  perplexity  and  error  might  be 
escaped  by  merely  recollecting  that  the 
Political  Society  has,  like  any  other,  its  own 
appropriate  objects  ;  and  that  any  other  de- 
sirable objects  which  it  may  be  enabled, 
incidentally,  to  promote,  more  effectually 
than  could  otherwise  be  done,  and  without 
interfering  with  its  main  objects,  are  yet 
(however  intrinsically  important)  only  se- 
condary and  subordinate;  and  that  it  is 
"  Sovereign"  only  in  this  sense,  that  its 
proper  and  main  object  is  one  which  neces- 
sarily implies  the  exercise  of  coercive  power. 
In  fa'ct,  the  very  circumstance  which  gives 
to  the  Political  Community  that  kind  of 
sovereignty  which  it  does  possess,  is  ex- 
actly what  places  beyond  its  own  proper 
province  the  very  noblest  and  highest  objects 
of  all.  Pure  Morality  as  existing  in  the 
motives  and  not  in  mere  outward  acts,  and 
sincere  belief  in  a  true  Religion,  are  pre- 
cisely what  cannot  be  produced,  directly 
and  immediately,  by  the  coercive  power  of 
the  Civil  Magistrate. 


NOTE  (B.)    P.  24. 

"  THAT  no  society  can  exist  without  some 
rules,  and  without  some  means  of  enforcing 
obedience  to  those  rules,  is  obvious.  When 
therefore  it  is  asked,  whether  Christ  or  the 
Holy  Spirit  left  any  ecclesiastical  laws,  or 
vested  any  where  power  to  enforce  those 
laws  ?  if  the  question  is  put  with  a  view  to 
ascertain  whether  Church  government  be  of 
divine  origin,  it  is  idle;  inasmuch  as  the 
very  institution  of  the  ecclesiastical  society, 
the  Church,  implies  the  design  that  rules 
should  be  established,  and  means  provided 
to  enforce  them. 

"  But  another  object  may  be  intended  by 
the  question.  It  may  be  put  with  the  view 
of  ascertaining  what  those  rules  are  where- 
by this  society  is  designed  to  be  governed. 
For,  it  may  be  said,  and  plausibly  enough, 
that  granting  the  intention  of  the  Church's 
Founder  to  have  laws  established  to  be  ever 
so  apparent,  how  are  we  to  know  what  kind 
of  government  he  intended  ? 

"  On  one  point  the  inquirer  must  satisfy  ' 
himself.     If,  from  the  nature  of  the  Church, ' 


and  from  existing  circumstances,  the  mem- 
bers were  already  possessed  of  the  means  of 
acquiring  this  knowledge,  in  that  case  nei- 
ther Christ  nor  the  Holy  Spirit  would  be 
likely  to  leave  any  code  of  ecclesiastical 
laws,  on  precisely  the  same  principle,  as  no 
code  of  ethics  was  left. 

"  Now,  is  there  any  thing  in  the  nature  of 
the  Church  to  guide  us,  as  to  what  are  ec- 
clesiastical offences  ?  Undoubtedly  there  is. 
In  every  society  there  must  be  such  a  princi- 
ple; and  by  reference  to  it  in  each,  are 
formed  laws  for  the  government  of  each. 
Every  society  recognizes  peculiar  offences, 
arising  out  of,  and  depending  solely  on,  the 
peculiar  nature  of  the  society ;  so  that,  in 
proportion  as  this  latter  is  understood,  the 
former  are  defined.  Much  mischievous  con- 
fusion in  some  instances  arises  from  a  want  of 
attention  to  this  connexion ;  and  the  attention 
is  frequently  diverted  from  it  by  the  accidental 
circumstance,  that  the  same  act  often  be- 
comes an  offence  against  many  societies. 
Thus,  theft  is  at  once  an  offence  against  the 
supreme  Ruler  of  the  universe, — against  the 
political  body  to  which  the  thief  is  attached, 
— against  some  certain  class  of  society,  per- 
haps, in  which  he  moves,  and  so  on.  The 
act  being  one,  it  is  only  by  reflection  that 
we  are  enabled  to  separate  the  different 
views  which  render  it  in  each  case  an  of- 
fence, and  in  each  of  a  different  magnitude. 
Again,  what  becomes  a  crime  because  vio- 
lating the  principle  of  one  society,  may  be 
none  in  another ;  if,  namely,  it  does  not  in- 
terfere with  the  object  proposed  in  the  for- 
mation and  preservation  of  that  other  so- 
ciety. Thus,  the  violation  of  the  academical 
rules  of  our  Universities  does  not  render  the 
offending  member  amenable  to  the  laws  of 
the  land.  Thus,  too,  the  very  conduct  which 
recommends  a  smuggler  or  a  robber  to  his 
confederacy,  becomes  an  offence  against  the 
political  body  with  which  he  is  associated. 

"  In  order,  therefore,  to  ascertain  what  are 
inherent  offences  or  crimes  in  any  society, 
it  is  necessary  that  we  should  know  with 
what  object  or  objects  such  society  is  formed. 
If  information  of  this  kind  then  be  found  in 
the  sacred  record,  respecting  the  Christian 
society,  ecclesiastical  law  by  revelation  was 
no  more  to  be  expected,  than  a  code  of  ethics 
to  tell  men  what  their  own  consciences  were 
already  constituted  by  God  to  declare. 

"  It  is  certain,  however,  that  if  the  ques- 
tion need  not  be  answered  in  the  affirmative, 
in  order  either  to  establish  the  divine  origin 
of  ecclesiastical  government,  or  to  determine 
what  offences  come  under  its  cognizance, 
there  is  yet  a  third  object  which  may  be 
proposed  in  urging  it.  What  punishments 
are  authorized,  in  order  to  check  those  of- 
fences ?  Ought  not  these  to  have  been  spe- 
cified ?  and,  not  having  been  specified,  does 
the  nature  of  the  case  here  also  supersede 
the  necessity  of  a  revelation,  and  enable  us 
to  know  what  coercion  is,  and  what  is  not, 
agreeable  to  the  Divine  will  ?  The  inquiry, 
too,  seems  to  be  the  more  reasonable,  because 


in  looking  to  the  methods  by  which  various 
societies  are  upheld,  we  find  the  punishment 
even  in  similar  societies  by  no  means  the 
same.  Military  discipline,  for  instance,  in 
different  countries,  and  at  different  periods, 
has  been  enforced  by  penalties  unlike  in  de- 
gree and  in  kind.  In  different  countries  and 
ages,  the  social  tie  between  the  master  and 
the  slave  has  been  differently  maintained. 
All  this  is  true,  but  still,  in  looking  at  the 
question  so,  we  take  only  a  partial  view, 
and  lose  one  important  feature  in  the  estab- 
lishment of  coercion, — the  right. 

"  Now,  this  right  is  either  inherent  in  the 
society,  or  conventional,  or  both,  as  is  the 
case  in  most  confederate  bodies.  When  the 
right  is  limited  to  what  the  society  exercises 
as  inherent  and  indispensable, — inherent  in 
its  nature,  and  indispensable  to  its  existence, 
— the  extreme  punishment  is,  exclusion;  and 
the  various  degrees  and  modifications  of 
punishment  are  only  degrees  and  modifica- 
tions of  exclusion.  When  the  right  is  con- 
ventional also,  (as  far  as  it  is  so,)  the  pu- 
nishment is  determined  by  arbitrary  enact- 
ment, proceeding  from  some  authority 
acknowledged  by  all  parties,  (whether  that 
authority  be  lodged  in  the  parties  themselves, 
or  in  competent  representatives,  or  in  other 
delegated  persons,)  and  therefore  styled  con- 
ventional. Few  societies  have  ever  existed 
without  a  large  portion  of  these  latter. 
Hence  the  anomaly  above  alluded  to,  and 
hence  too  the  vulgar  impression,  that  all 
punishments  are  arbitrary,  and  depend  solely 
on  the  caprice  and  judgment  of  the  govern- 
ment. What  is  popularly  and  emphatically 
termed  society,  affords  a  good  instance  of  the 
first ;  that  is,  of  a  social  union  regulated  and 
maintained  only  by  a  right  inherent.  In 
this,  excessive  ill-manners  and  the  gross 
display  of  ungentlemanly  feelings  are  pu- 
nished by  absolute  exclusion.  According  as 
the  offence  is  less,  the  party  offending  is  for 
a  time  excluded  from  some  select  portion  of 
good  society,  or  from  certain  meetings  and 
the  like,  in  which  more  particularly  the 
spirit  and  genuine  character  of  gentility  are 
to  be  cherished.  All  its  lawful  and  appro- 
priate punishments  are  a  system  of  exclu- 
sion, in  various  shapes  and  degrees." — 
Encyclopedia  Metropolitans,  (Historical  Di- 
vision,) vol.  ii.  pp.  744,  745. 


NOTE  (C.)  P.  25,  29. 

"  HEREUPON  doth  the  Apostle  lay  a  divine 
directory  before  him,  concerning  their  man- 
ner of  praying,  choosing  and  ordaining  of 
ministers, approving  deacons, admitting  wi- 
dows, and  regulating  the  people  that  nothing 
could  be  wanting  to  the  healthy  temper  of 
that  church,  if  they  receive  and  embrace 
these  applications;  in  the  most  of  which 
prescriptions,  he  useth  exceeding  much  of 
their  synagogue-language,  that  he  may  be 
the  better  understood ;  and  reflecteth  upon 


APPENDIX.  77 

divers  of  their  own  laws  and  customs,  that 
what  he  prescribeth,  may  imprint  upon 
them  with  the  more  conviction.  He  calleth 
the  minister  '  Episcopus,'  from  the  common 
and  known  title  '  the  chazan'  or  *  overseer' 
in  the  synagogue  :  he  prescribeth  rules  and 
qualifications  for  his  choice,  in  most  things 
suitable  to  their  own  cautions  in  choosing 
of  an  elder :  he  speaketh  of  '  elders  ruling 
only,  and  elders  ruling  and  labouring  in  the 
word  and  doctrine ;'  meaning,  in  this  dis- 
tinction, that  same  that  he  had  spoken  of  in 
chap.  iii.  *  bishops  and  deacons.'  Both 
those,  in  the  common  language,  then  best 
known,  were  called,  « elders,'  and  both 
owned  as  '  rulers.'  Yea,  the  very  title,  that 
they  usually  termed  '  deacons,'  (Parnasin), 
was  the  common  word  that  was  used  to 
signify,  a  ' ruler.'  The  Jerusalem  Talmud, 
speaking  of  the  three  ' Parnasin,'  or  'dea- 
cons,' that  were  in  every  synagogue,  hath 
these  two  passages,  which  may  be  some  il- 
lustration to  two  passages  in  this  epistle  :— 
( They  appoint  not  less  than  three  Parnasin 
in  the  congregation  :  for  if  matters  of  money 
were  judged  by  three,  matters  of  life  much 
more  require  three  to  manage  them.'  Ob- 
serve that  the  deacon's  office  was  accounted 
as  an  office  that  concerned  life  ;  namely,  in 
taking  care  for  the  existence  of  the  poor. 
According  to  this,  may  that  in  chap.  iii.  12, 
be  understood  :  '  For  they  that  have  used 
the  office  of  a  deacon  well,  purchase  to 
themselves  a  good  degree ;'  a  good  degree 
towards  being  entrusted  with  souls,  when 
they  have  been  faithful  in  the  discharge  of 
their  trust  concerning  the  life  of  the  body." 
— Lightfoot's  Harmony  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment.  Edited  by  the  Rev.  John  Pitman. 
Vol.  iii.  p.  257.  " 

"  The  Apostles  at  Jerusalem,  hearing  the 
glad  tidings  of  the  conversion  of  Samaria, 
send  down  Peter  and  John  ;  and  why  these 
two  rather  than  any  other  of  the  twelve,  is 
not  so  easy  to  resolve,  as  it  is  ready  to  ob- 
serve, that  if,  in  this  employment,  there  was 
any  sign  of  primacy,  John  was  sharer  of  it 
as  well  as  Peter.  Being  come,  they  pray, 
and  lay  their  hands  upon  them,  and  they 
receive  the  Holy  Ghost.  Here  episcopacy 
thinketh  it  hath  an  undeniable  argument  for 
proof  of  its  hierarchy,  and  of  the  strange 
right  of  confirmation.  For  thus  pleadeth 
Baronius  for  the  former :  *  From  hence 
(saith  he)  it  may  be  seen,  that  the  hierar- 
chial  order  was  instituted  in  the  church  of 
God,  even  in  this  time;  for  Philip  doth  so 
baptize  those  that  believe,  that  yet  he  usurp- 
eth  not  the  apostolical  privilege, — namely, 
the  imposition  of  hands  granted  to  the  Apos- 
tles.' And  thus  the  Rhemists  both  for  it, 
and  for  the  latter,  in  their  notes  on  Acts  viii. 
17  :— '  If  this  Philip  had  been  an  Apostle, 
(saith  St.  Bede,)  he  might  have  imposed 
his  hands,  that  they  might  have  received  the 
Holy  Ghost ;  but  this  none  can  do,  saving 
bishops.  For  though  priests  may  baptize 
and  anoint  the  baptized  also  with  chrism 
consecrated  by  a  bishop, — yet  can  he  not 


78 


APPENDIX. 


sign  his  forehead  with  the  same  holy  oil ;  j 
because    that   belongeth    only   to   bishops, ! 
when  they  give  the  Holy  Ghost  to  be  bap- 
tized. '     And  after  this  testimony  of  Bede, 
they  subjoin  their  inference  :  '  This  imposi- 
tion therefore  of  hands,  together  with  the 
prayers  here  specified  (which  no  doubt  was 
the  very  same  that  the  church  useth  to  that 
purpose)  was  the  ministration  of  the  sacra- 
ment of  confirmation.' 

"  Now  let  the  reader,  with  indifferency 
and  seriousness,  but  ruminate  upon  these 
two  queries,  and  then  judge  of  these  two 
inferences  : — 

"  First,  whether  apostleship  were  not  an 
order  for  ever,  inimitable  in  the  church  :  for 
besides  the  reason  given  to  prove  that  it  was, 
upon  the  choosing  of  Matthias,  others  may 
be  added  to  make  it  more  clear  : — as,  1 . 
The  end  of  their  election  was  peculiar,  the 
like  to  which  was  not  to  be  in  the  church 
again ;  for  they  were  chosen  to  be  with 
Christ,  Mark  iii.  14  ;  to  be  eye-witnesses  of 
his  resurrection,  Acts  i.  22,  ii.  32,  and  x.  41; 
as  they  had  been  of  his  actions  and  passion, 
Luke  i.  2.  And,  therefore,  Paul  pleading 
for  his  apostleship,  that,  «  he  had  seen  the 
Lord,'  1  Cor.  ix.  1  ;  and  in  the  relation  or 
story  of  his  calling,  this  particular  is  singu- 
larly added,  that '  he  saw  that  Just  One,  and 
heard  the  voice  of  his  mouth,'  Acts  xxii.  14. 

fe  Secondly,  the  name  of  *  Apostles'  keep- 
eth  itself  unmixed  or  confounded  with  any 
other  order.  It  is  true  indeed,  that  the 
significancy  of  the  word  would  agree  to 
other  ministers  that  are  to  preach  ;  but  there 
is  a  peculiar  propriety  in  the  sense,  that 
hath  confined  the  title  to  the  twelve  and 
Paul :  as  any  indifferent  eye  will  judge  and 
censure  upon  the  weighing  of  it  in  the  New 
Testament. 

"Thirdly,  When  Paul  reckoneth  the 
several  kinds  of  ministry,  that  Christ  Jesus 
left  in  the  Church  at  his  ascension,  Eph.iv. 
1 1 .  and  1  Cor.  xii.  28, — there  is  none  that 
can  think  them  all  to  be  perpetuated,  or  that 
they  should  continue  successively  in  the 
like  order  from  time  to  time.  For  within  a 
hundred  years  after  our  Saviour's  birth, 
where  were  either  prophets  or  evangelists, 
miracles  or  healings  ?  And  if  these  extraor- 
dinary kinds  of  ministration  were  ordained 
but  for  a  time,  and  for  special  occasion,  and 
were  not  to  be  imitated  in  the  church  unto 
succeeding  times ;  much  more,  or  at  the 
least  as  much,  were  the  Apostles,  and  order 
much  more,  at  least,  as  much  extraordinary, 
as  they. 

"  Fourthly,  The  constant  and  undeniable 
parallel,  which  is  made  betwixt  the  twelve 
Patriarchs,  the  fathers  of  the  twelve  tribes, 
and  the  twelve  Apostles,  not  only  by  the 
number  itself,  but  also  by  the  New  Testa- 
ment, in  the  four-and-twenty  Elders,  Rev. 
iv.  4, — and  in  the  gates  and  foundations  of 
the  New  Jerusalem,  Rev.  xxi.  12,  14, — 
doth  argue  and  prove  the  latter  order  as  ini- 
mitable as  the  first.  These  things  well  con- 
sidered, if  there  were  no  more,  it  will  show, 


how  improbable  and  unconsonant  the  first 
inference  is,  that  is  alleged,  that  because 
there  was  a  subordination  betwixt  the  Apos  • 
ties  and  Philip,  therefore,  the  like  is  to  be 
reputed  betwixt  bishops  and  other  ministers, 
and  that  bishops  in  the  church  are  in  the 
place  of  the  Apostles." — Lightfoot's  Com- 
mentary on  the  Jicts,  vol.  viii.  p.  125. 

"  1.  Here  beginneth''*  the  kingdom  of 
heaven ;'  when  the  Gentiles  are  received  to 
favour  and  to  the  Gospel,  who  had  been  so 
long  cast  off,  and  lain  in  ignorance  and 
idolatry  ;  and  when  no  difference  is  made 
betwixt  them  and  the  Jews  any  longer, — 
but,  of  every  nation,  they  that  fear  God  and 
work  righteousness  are  accepted  of  him  as 
well  as  Israel.  This  is  the  very  first  begin- 
ning or  dawning  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ; 
and  so  it  grew  on  more  and  more,  till  Jeru- 
salem was  destroyed ;  and  then  was  the 
perfect  day,  when  the  Gentiles  only  were 
become  the  church  of  Christ :  and  no  church 
or  commonwealth  of  Israel  to  be  had  at  all, 
but  they  destroyed  and  ruined. 

"  2.  Here  '  Peter  hath  the  keys  of  the  king- 
dom,' and  unlocked  the  door  for  the  Gen- 
tiles to  come  in  to  the  faith  and  gospel, 
which,  till  now,  had  been  shut,  and  they 
kept  out.  And  Peter  only  had  the  keys,  and 
none  of  the  apostles  or  disciples  but  he,  for 
though  they  from  henceforward  brought  in 
Gentiles  daily  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
by  converting  them  to  the  Gospel, — yet  it 
was  he  that  first  and  only  opened  the  door ; 
and  the  door,  being  once  opened,  was  never 
shut,  nor  never  shall  be  to  the  end  of  the 
world.  And  this  was  all  the  priority  that 
Peter  had  before  the  other  apostles,  if  it  were 
any  priority ;  and  how  little  this  concerneth 
Rome,  or  the  Papacy,  as  to  be  any  founda- 
tion of  it,  a  child  may  observe. 

"  3.  Peter  here  looseth  the  greatest  strict- 
ness, and  what  was  the  straitest  bound-up 
of  any  thing  that  was  in  all  the  policy  of 
Moses  and  customs  of  the  Jews, — and  that 
was,  the  difference  of  clean  and  unclean,  in 
the  legal  sense.  And  this  he  looseth  on 
earth,  and  it  is  loosed  in  heaven  ;  for  from 
heaven  had  he  an  immediate  warrant  to 
dissolve  it.  And  this  he  doth,  first  declara- 
tively,  showing  that  nothing  henceforward 
is  to  be  called  common  or  unclean,  and 
showing  his  authority  for  this  doctrine;  and 
then  practically  conforming  himself  to  this 
doctrine  that  he  taught,  by  going  in  unto 
the  uncircumcised,  and  eating  with  them. 
'Binding  and  loosing,'  in  our  Saviour's 
sense,  and  in  the  Jews'  sense,  from  whose 
use  he  taketh  the  phrase,  is  '  of  things  and 
not  of  persons ;'  for  Christ  saith  to  Peter, 
o  ta.v  cf«V»?,  and  o  tav  \vw,  o  and  not  cv ;  '  what- 
soever' thou  bindest,  and  not  '  whomso- 
ever ;'  and  to  the  other  apostles,  o*-*  w  Mrtm, 
Matt,  xviii.  18,  or*  and  not  co-wc,  'whatso 
ever  things,'  and  not,  'whatsoever  persons;' 
so  that,  though  it  be  true  and  indeed,  that 
Jews  and  Gentiles  are  loosed  henceforward 
one  to  the  communion  of  another, — yet  the 
proper  object  of  this  loosing,  that  is  loosed 


APPENDIX. 


79 


by  Peter,  was  that  law  or  doctrine  that  tied 
them  up.  And  so  concerning  the  eating  of 
those  things  that  had  been  prohibited,, — it  is 
true,  indeed,  that  the  Jews  were  let  loose 
henceforward  to  the  use  of  them  in  diet,  and 
to  eat  what  they  thought  good;  but  this 
loosing  was  not  so  properly  of  the  men,  as 
the  loosing  of  that  prohibition  that  had  bound 
them  before.  And  this  could  be  no  way 
but  doctrinally,  by  teaching  that  Christian 
liberty  that  was  given  by  the  Gospel. 

"  Now,  though  Peter  only,  and  none  but 
he,  had  '  the  keys  of  the  kingdom'  of  heaven, 
yet  had  all  the  apostles  the  f  power  of  bind- 
ing and  loosing,'  as  well  as  he  ;  and  so  have 
all  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  as  well  as 
they  ;  and  all  in  the  same  sense,  namely, 
doctrinally  to  teach  what  is  bound  and  loose, 
or  lawful  and  unlawful ;  but  not  in  the  same 
kind  :  for  the  apostles,  having  the  constant 
and  unerring  assistance  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
did  nullify,  by  their  doctrine,  some  part  of 
Moses'  law,  as  to  the  use  of  it,  as  circum- 
cision, sacrifices,  purifyings,  and  other  legal 
rites, — which  could  not  have  been  clone  by 
men,  that  had  not  had  such  a  Spirit;  for 
there  must  be  the  same  Spirit  of  prophecy 
to  abrogate  a  law  which  had  set  it  in  force." 
—P.  219. 

"  Besides  these  there  was  e  the  public 
minister  of  the  synagogue,'  who  prayed 
publicly,  and  took  care  about  the  reading  of 
the  law,  and  sometimes  preached,  if  there 
were  not  some  other  to  discharge  this  office. 
This  person  was  called,  "  The  Angel  of  the 
Church,'  and  '  the  Chazan  or  Bishop  of  the 
Congregation.'  The  public  minister  of  the 
synagogue  himself  read  not  the  law  publicly ; 
but,  every  sabbath,  he  called  out  seven  of 
the  synagogue  (on  other  days,  fewer)  whom 
he  judged  fit  to  read.  He  stood  by  him  that 
read,  with  great  care  observing,  that  he  read 
nothing  either  falsely,  or  improperly, — and 
calling  him  back,  and  correcting  him,  if  he 
had  failed  in  any  thing.  And  hence  he  was 
called,  ( 'ETrirxorroc,'  or  '  Overseer.'  Certainly, 
the  signification  of  the  word  '  Bishop,'  and 
'  Angel  of  the  Church,'  had  been  determined 
with  less  noise,  if  recourse  had  been  made 
to  the  proper  fountains, — and  men  had  not 
vainly  disputed  about  the  signification  of 
words,  taken  I  know  not  whence.  The 
service  and  worship  of  the  temple  being 
abolished,  as  being  ceremonial,  God  trans- 
planted the  worship  and  public  adoration  of 
God  used  in  the  synagogues,  which  was 
moral,  into  the  Christian  church;  to  wit, 
the  public  ministry,  public  prayers,  reading 
God's  word,  and  preaching,  &.c.  Hence 
the  names  of  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel 
were  the  very  same,  f  The  Angel  of  the 
Church,'  and  'The  Bishop,'— which  be- 
longed to  the  ministers  in  the  synagogues." 
— Hebrew  and  Talmndical  Exercitations  upon 
the  Gospels  rf  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark, 
vol.  xi.  p.  88. 

"  Ver.  19 :  Kat  Suau  a-ot  ra,<;  X?UK  Tris 
p«0r»X<ta$  TVV  ovgctvuv.  'And  I  will  give  thee 
the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.'  That  is, 


|  f  Thou  shalt  first  open  the  door  of  faith  to  the 
I  Gentiles.'  He  had  said,  that  he  would  build 
|  his  church  to  endure  for  ever,  against  which 
!  the  'gates  of  hell  should  not  prevail,'  which 
i  had  prevailed  against  the  Jewish  Church  : 
|  and  '  To  thee,  O  Peter,  (saith  he,)  I  will  give 
I  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  that 
thou  mayest  open  a  door  for  the  bringing  in 
I  of  the  Gospel  to  that  church.'  Which  was 
performed  by  Peter  in  that  remarkable  story 
concerning  Cornelius,  Acts  x.  And  I  make 
I  no  doubt,  that  those  words  of  Peter  respect 
|  these  words  of  Christ,  Acts  xv.  7;  'Atp 


roe,  euj  TOV 


rov  hoyov  rov 
'  A  good  while  ago  God  made  choice  among 
us,  that  the  Gentiles  should  hear  the  word  of 
the  Gospel  by  mouth,  and  believe.' 

"  K«*  o  lav  $ya-Y)<;  wl  ry<;  713?,  &,c.  '  .And 
whatsoever  thou  slialt  bind  on  earth,''  &c. 
Ka*  b  iu.v  hi/ays  tirl  ryq  y»j$,  &c.  '  Jlild 
whatsoever  thou  shalt  loose  on  earth,'  &,c. 

"  I.  We  believe  the  keys  were  committed 
to  Peter  alone,  but  the  power  of  binding  and 
loosing  to  the  other  apostles  also,  chapter 
jxxviii.  18. 

"II.  It  is  necessary  to  suppose,  that 
:  Christ  here  spake  according  to  the  common 
I  people,  —  or  he  could  not  be  understood 
without  a  particular  commentary,  which  is 
nowhere  to  be  found. 

"  III.  But  now  *  to  bind  and  loose,'  a  very 
usual  phrase  in  the  Jewish  schools,  was 
spoken  of  things,  not  of  persons  ;  which  is 
here  also  to  be  observed  in  the  articles,  d  and 
oa-a.,  (  what,'  and  e  whatsoever,'  chap,  xviii." 
—Lightfoot,  p.  226. 


NOTE  (D.)  29. 

"  IT  was  indeed  not  at  all  to  be  expected 
that  the  Gospels,  the  Acts,  and  those  Epis- 
tles which  have  come  down  to  us,  should 
have  been,  considering  the  circumstances  in 
which  they  were  written,  any  thing  different 
from  what  they  are :  but  the  question  still 
recurs,  why  should  not  the  Apostles  or  their 
followers  have  also  committed  to  paper, 
what  we  are  sure  must  have  been  perpetu- 
ally in  their  mouths,  regular  instruction  to 
Catechumens,  Articles  of  Faith,  Prayers, 
and  directions  as  to  Public  Worship,  and 
administration  of  the  Sacraments  ? 

"  Supposing  that  the  other  avocations  of 
the  Apostles  would  not  allow  any  of  them 
leisure  for  such  compositions, — (hough  we 
know  that  some  of  them  did  find  time  for 
writing,  two  of  them,  not  a  little, — even  this 
supposition  does  not  at  all  explain  the  diffi- 
culty ;  for  the  Acts,  and  two  of  the  Gospels, 
were  written  by  men  who  were  only  atten- 
dants on  the  Apostles.  Nor  would  such 
writings  as  I  am  speaking  of  have  required 
an  inspired  penman  ;  only,  one  who  had 
access  to  persons  thus  gifted.  We  know 
with  what  care  the  Apostolic  Epistles  were 


80 


APPENDIX. 


preserved,  first  by  the  Churches  to  which 
they  were  respectively  sent,  and  afterwards, 
by  the  others  also,  as  soon  as  they  received 
copies.  How  comes  it  then  that  no  one  of 
the  Elders  (Presbyters)  of  any  of  these 
Churches  should  have  written  down,  and 
afterwards  submitted  to  the  revision  of  an 
Apostle,  that  outline  of  catechetical  instruc- 
tion— that  elementary  introduction  to  the 
Christian  faith — which  they  must  have  re- 
ceived at  first  from  that  Apostle's  mouth, 
and  have  afterwards  employed  in  the  instruc- 
tion of  their  own  converts?  Why  did  none 
of  them  record  any  of  the  Prayers,  of  which 
they  must  have  heard  so  many  from  an 
Apostle's  mouth,  both  in  the  ordinary  de- 
votional assemblies,  in  the  administration  of 
the  Sacraments,  and  in  the  'laying  on  of 
hands,'  by  which  they  themselves  had  been 
ordained  ? 

"Paul,  after  having  given  the  most  gene- 
ral exhortations  to  the  Corinthians  for  the 
preservation  of  decent  regularity  in  their  re- 
ligious meetings,  adds/the  rest  will  I  set  in 
order  when  I  come,'  And  so  doubtless  he 
did;  and  so  he  must  have  done,  by  verbal 
directions,  in  all  the  other  churches  also  ;  is 
it  not  strange  then  that  these  verbal  direc- 
tions should  nowhere  have  been  committed 
to  writing?  This  would  have  seemed  a  most 
obvious  and  effectual  mode  of  precluding  all 
future  disorders  and  disputes :  as  also  the 
drawing  up  of  a  compendious  statement  of 
Christian  doctrines,  would  have  seemed  a 
safeguard  against  the  still  more  important 
evil  of  heretical  error.  Yet  if  any  such 
statements  and  formularies  Juid  been  drawn 
up,  with  the  sanction,  and  under  the  revi- 
sion of  an  Apostle,  we  may  be  sure  they 
would  have  been  preserved  and  transmitted 
to  posterity,  with  the  most  scrupulous  and 
reverential  care.  The  conclusion  therefore 
seems  inevitable,  that  either  no  one  of  the 
numerous  Elders  and  Catechists  ever 
thought  of  doing  this,  or  else,  that  they 
were  forbidden  by  the  Apostles  to  execute 
any  such  design ;  and  each  of  these  alterna- 
tives seems  to  me  alike  inexplicable  by  na- 
tural causes. 

"  For  it  should  be  remembered  that  when 
other  points  are  equal,  it  is  much  more  dif- 
ficult to  explain  a  negative  than  a  positive 
circumstance  in  our  Scriptures.  There  is 
something,  suppose,  in  the  New  Testament, 
which  the  first  promulgators  of  Christianity, 
— considered  as  mere  unassisted  men, — 
were  not  likely  to  write ;  and  there  is  some- 
thing else,  which  they  were,  we  will  sup- 
pose, equally  unlikely  to  omit  writing ;  now 
these  two  difficulties  are  by  no  means  equal. 
For,  with  respect  to  the  former,  if  we  can 
make  out  that  any  one  of  these  men  might 
have  been,  by  nature  or  by  circumstances, 
qualified  and  induced  to  write  it,  the  pheno- 
menon is  solved.  To  point  out  even  a  sin- 
gle individual  able  and  likely  to  write  it, 
would  account  for  its  being  written.  But  it 
is  not  so  with  respect  to  the  other  case,  that 


of  omission.     Here,  we  have  to  prove  a  ne- 
gative;— to  show,  not  merely  that  this  or  that 
|  man  was  likely  not  to  write  what  we  find 
omitted,  but,  that  no  one  was  likely  to  write  it. 

***** 

"Although  however  we  cannot  pretend, 
in  every  case,  to  perceive  the  reasons  for 
what  God  has  appointed,  it  is  not  in  the 
present  case  difficult  to  discern  the  superhu- 
man wisdom  of  the  course  adopted.  If  the 
hymns  and  forms  of  Prayer, — the  Catechism, 
— the  Confessions  of  Faith, — and  the  Eccle- 
siastical regulations,  which  the  Apostles  em- 
ployed, had  been  recorded,  these  would  all 
have  been  regarded  as  parts  of  Scripture : 
and  even  had  they  been  accompanied  by  the 
most  express  declarations  of  the  lawfulness 
of  alteringor  laying  aside  any  of  them,  we 
I  cannot  doubt  that  they  would  have  been 
I  in  practice  most  scrupulously  retained,  even 
I  when  changes  of  manners,  tastes,  and  local 
and  temporary  circumstances  of  every  kind 
I  rendered  them  no  longer  the  most  suitable. 
The  Jewish  ritual,  designed  for  one  Nation 
and  Country,  and  intended  to  be  of  tempo- 
rary duration,  was  fixed  and  accurately  pre- 
scribed :  the  same  Divine  Wisdom  from 
which  both  dispensations  proceeded,  having 
designed  Christianity  for  all  Nations  and 
Ages,  left  Christians  at  large  in  respect  of 
those  points  in  which  variation  might  be  de- 
sirable. But  I  think  no  human  wisdom 
would  have  foreseen  and  provided  for  this. 
That  a  number  of  Jews,  accustomed  from 
their  infancy  to  so  strict  a  ritual,  should,  in 
introducing  Christianity  as  the  second  part 
of  the  same  dispensation,  have  abstained 
not  only  from  accurately  prescribing  for  the 
use  of  all  Christian  Churches  for  ever,  the 
mode  of  divine  worship,  but  even  from  re- 
cording what  was  actually  in  use  under  their 
own  directions,  does  seem  to  me  utterly 
incredible,  unless  we  suppose  them  to  have 
been  restrained  from  doing  this  by  a  special 
admonition  of  the  Divine  Spirit. 

"  And  we  may  be  sure,  as  I  have  said, 
that  if  they  had  recorded  the  particulars  of 
their  own  worship,  the  very  words  they 
wrote  would  have  been  invested,  in  our 
minds,  with  so  much  sanctity,  that  it  would 
have  been  thought  presumptuous  to  vary  or 
to  omit  them,  however  inappropriate  they 
might  become.  The  Lord's  Prayer,  the 
only  one  of  general  application  that  is  re- 
corded in  the  Scriptures,  though  so  framed 
as  to  be  suitable  in  all  Ages  and  Countries, 
has  yet  been  subjected  to  much  superstitious 
abuse."  * 

Each  Church,  therefore,  was  left, 
through  the  wise  foresight  of  Him  who 
alone  ''knew  what  is  in  man,'  to  provide 
for  its  own  wants  as  they  should  arise ! — to 
steer  its  own  course  by  the  Chart  and  Com- 
pass which  his  holy  Word  supplies,  regulat- 
ing for  itself  the  Sails  and  Rudder,  accord- 
ing to  the  winds  and  currents  it  may  meet 
with. 

Apostoles  had  begun  and  estab- 


lished  precedents,  which,  of  course,  woul 
be   naturally    adopted    by  their   uninspire 
successors.     But    still,  as  these  were  onl; 
the  formal  means  of  grace,  and  not  the  bless 
ing  itself,  it  was  equally  to  be  expected  tha 
the  Church  should  assume  a  discretionar 
power  whenever  the  means  established  be 
came  impracticable   or   clearly   unsuitable 
and  either  substitute  others,  or  even  alto 
gether   abolish  such   as   existed.   ...     I 
might  seem  at  first  that  the  apostolical  pre 
oedents  were  literally  binding  on  all  ages 
but  this  cannot  have  been  intended ;  and  fo 
this  reason,  that  the  greater  portion  of  the 
apostolical  practices  have  been  transmittec 
to  us,  not  on  apostolical  authority,  but  on  th 
authority  of  the  uninspired  church  :  which 
has  handed  them  down  with  an  uncertain 
mixture   of  its  own  appointments.     How 
are  we  to  know  the  enactments  of  the  in- 
spired rulers  from  those  of  the  uninspired' 
and  if  there  be  no  certain  clue,  we  mus 
either  bring  down  the  authority  of  apos- 
tolical usage  to  that  of  the  uninspired  church, 
or  raise  that  of  the  uninspired   church  to 
that  of  the  apostolical.     Now  the  former  is, 
doubtless,  what  was,  to  a  certain   extent, 
intended  by  the  Apostles  themselves,  as  wilJ 
appear  from  a  line  of  distinction  by  which 
they  have  carefully  partitioned  off  such  of 
their  appointments  as   are  designed   to  be 
perpetual  from  such  as  are  left  to  share  the 
possibility  of  change,  with  the  institutions 
of  uninspired  wisdom. 

"  *  If  then  we  look  to  the  account  of  the 
Christian  usages  contained  in  Scripture, 
nothing  can  be  more  unquestionable,  than 
that  while  some  are  specified,  others  are 
passed  over  in  silence.  It  is  not  even  left 
so  as  to  make  us  imagine  that  those  men- 
tioned may  be  all :  but  while  some  are  noted 
specifically,  the  establishment  of  others  is 
implied,  without  the  particular  mode  of  ob- 
servance being  given.  Thus,  we  are  equally 
sure  from  Scripture,  that  Christian  minis- 
ters were  ordained  by  a  certain  form,  and 
that  Christians  assembled  in  prayer ;  but 
while  the  precise  process  of  laying  on  of 
hands  is  mentioned  in  the  former  institu- 
tion, no  account  is  given  of  the  precise 
method  of  church  service,  or  even  of  any 
regular  forms  of  prayer,  beyond  the  Lord's 
Prayer.  Even  the  record  of  the  Ordination 
Service  itself  admits  of  the  same  distinction. 
It  is  quite  as  certain  that,  in  it,  some  prayer 
was  used,  as  that  some  outward  form  ac- 
companied the  prayer  ;  but  the  form  is  spe- 
cified, the  prayer  left  unrecorded. 

" '  What  now  is  the  obvious  interpreta- 
tion of  the  holy  Dispenser's  meaning  in  this 
mode  of  record?  Clearly  it  is,  that  the 
Apostles  regulated,  under  His  guidance, 
the  forms  and  practices  of  the  'church,  so  as 
was  best  calculated  to  convey  grace  to  the 
church  at  that  time.  Nevertheless,  part  of 
its  institutions  were  of  a  nature,  which,  al- 
though formal,  would  never  require  a 
change;  and  these  therefore  were  left  re- 
corded in  the  Scriptures,  to  mark  this  dis- 


APPENDIX.  81 

tinction  of  character.  The  others  were  not, 
indeed,  to  be  capriciously  abandoned,  nor 
except  where  there  should  be  manifest  cause 
for  so  doing;  but  as  such  a  case  was  sup- 
posable,  these  were  left  to  mingle  with  the 
uninspired  precedents ;  the  claims  of  which, 
as  precedents,  would  be  increased  by  this 
uncertain  admixture,  and  the  authority  of 
the  whole  rendered  so  far  binding,  so  far 
subject  to  the  discretion  of  the  Church. 
They  might  not  be  altered  unless  sufficient 
grounds  should  appear ;  but  the  settling  of 
this  point  was  left  to  the  discretion  of  the 
church.'* 

"  The  Apostles  themselves,  however,  and 
their  numerous  fellow-laborers,  would  not, 
I  think,  have  been,  if  left  to  themselves,  so 
far-sighted  as  to  perceive  (all,  and  each  of 
them,  without  a  single  exception)  the  expe- 
diency of  this  procedure.  Most  likely,  many 
of  them,  but  according  to  all  human  proba- 
bility, some  of  them,  would  have  left  us,  as 
parts  of  Scripture  compositions  such  as  I 
have  been  speaking  of;  and  these,  there  can 
be  no  doubt,  would  have  been  scrupulously 
retained  for  ever.  They  would  have  left  us 
Catechisms,  which  would  have  been  like 
precise 'directions  for  the  cultivation  of  some 
plant,  admirably  adapted  to  a  particular  soil 
and  climate,  but  inapplicable  in  those  of  a 
contrary  description:  their  Symbols  would 
tiave  stood  like  ancient  sea-walls,  built  to 
repel  the  encroachment  of  the  waves,  and 
still  scrupulously  kept  in  repair,  when  per- 
laps  the  sea  had  retired  from  them  many 
miles,  and  was  encroaching  on  some  differ- 
ent part  of  the  coast. 

There  are  multitudes,  even  as  it  is,  who 
do  not,  even  now,  perceive  the  expediency 
of  the  omission ;  there  are  not  a  few  who 
iven  complain  of  it  as  a  defect,  or  even  make 
t  a  ground  of  objection.  That  in  that  day 
he  reasons  for  the  procedure  actually  adopt- 
ed should  have  occurred,  and  occurred  to 
all  the  first  Christians,  supposing  them  mere 
unassisted  men,  and  men  too  brought  up  in 
Judaism,  is  utterly  incredible." — Essay  on 
Omissions,  pp.  15—19;  24—27;  30—34. 


NOTE  (EO    P.  33. 

"It  is  not,  I  think,  unlikely  that  some 
asty  and  superficial  reasoners  may  have 
bund  an  objection  to  Christianity  in  the 
•mission  of  which  I  have  been  speaking. 
t  is  certain  that  there  are  not  a  lew  who 
,re  accustomed  to  pronounce  this  or  that 
upposition  improbable,  as  soon  as  they  per- 
eive  that  it  involves  great  difficulties ;  with- 
ut  staying  to  examine  whether  there  are 
more  or  fewer  on  the  other  side  of  the  alter- 
ative :  as  if  a  traveller,  when  he  had  the 
hoice  of  two  roads,  should,  immediately  on 
>erceiving  that  there  were  impediments  in 
one,  decide  on  taking  the  other,  before 


*  Hinds'  History,  vol.  ii.  pp.  1 13—1 15. 


APPENDIX. 


he  had  ascertained  whether  it  were  even 
possible.  I  can  conceive  some  such  reason- 
ers  exclaiming,  in  the  present  case,  *  Surely, 
if  the  Apostles  had  really  been  inspired  by 
an  all-wise  God,  they  would  never  have 
omitted  so  essential  a  provision  as  that  of  a 
clear  systematic  statement  of  the  doctrines 
to  be  believed,  and  the  worship  to  be  offered, 
so  as  to  cut  off,  as  far  as  can  be  done,  all 
occasions  of  heresy  and  schism.  If  the 
Deity  had  really  bestowed  a  revelation  on 
his  creatures,  He  would  have  provided  rules 
of  faith  and  of  practice  so  precise  and  so  ob- 
vious, as  not  to  be  overlooked  or  mistaken  ; 
instead  of  leaving  men,  whether  pretending 
to  infallibility  as  the  Romanists,  or  interpret- 
ing Scripture  by  the  light  of  reason  as  the 
Protestants,  to  elicit  by  a  laborious  search, 
and  comparison  of  passages,  what  doctrines 
and  duties  are,  in  their  judgment,  agreeable 
to  the  Divine  Will.' 

"You  think  it  was  to  be  expected  (one 
might  reply)  that  God  would  have  pro- 
ceeded in  this  manner;  and  is  it  not  at  least 
as  much  to  be  expected  that  Man  would? 
It  is  very  unlikely,  you  say,  that  the  Apos- 
tles would  have  omitted  these  systematic 
instructions,  if  they  had  really  been  in- 
spired ;  but  if  they  were  not ,  they  must  have 
been  impostors  or  enthusiasts ;  does  then 
that  hypothesis  remove  the  difficulty?  Is  it 
not  at  least  as  unlikely,  on  that  supposition, 
that  no  one  of  them,  or  of  their  numerous 
followers,  should  have  taken  a  step  so  natu- 
ral and  obvious?  All  reasonable  conjecture, 
and  all  experience  show,  that  any  men,  but 
especially  Jews,  when  engaged  in  the  propa- 
gation and  establishment  of  a  religion,  and 
acting,  whether  sincerely  or  insincerely,  on 
their  own  judgment  as  to  what  was  most 
expedient,  would  have  done  what  no  Chris- 
tian writer  during  the  age  of  (supposed) 
inspiration  has  done.  One  would  even  have 
expected  indeed,  that,  as  we  have  four  dis- 
tinct Gospels,  so,  several  different  writers 
would  have  left  us  copies  of  the  Cate- 
chisms, &,c.,  which  they  were  in  the  habit 
of  using  orally.  This  or  that  individual 
might  have  been  prevented  from  doing  so  by 
accidental  circumstances;  but  that  every 
one  of  some  hundreds  should  have  been  so 
prevented,  amounts  to  a  complete  moral 
impossibility. 

"  We  have  here,  then,  it  may  be  said,  a 
choice  of  difficulties :  if  the  Christian  reli- 
gion came  from  God,  it  is  (we  will  suppose) 
very  strange,  and  contrary  to  all  we  should 
have  expected  from  the  Deity,  that  He 
should  have  permitted  in  the  Scriptures  the 
omission  I  am  speaking  of:  if,  again,  it  is 
the  contrivance  of  men,  it  is  strange,  and 
contrary  to  all  we  could  have  expected  from 
men,  that  they  should  have  made  the  omis- 
sion. And  now,  which  do  we  know  the 
more  of,  God  or  Man?  Of  whose  character 
and  designs  are  we  the  more  competent 
judges,  and  the  better  able  to  decide  what 
may  reasonably  be  expected  of  each,  the 
Creator,  or  our  fellow-creatures?  And  as 


there  can  be  no  doubt  about  the  answer  to 
this  question,  so,  the  conclusion  which  fol- 
lows from  that  answer  is  obvious.  If  the 
alternative  were  presented  to  me,  that  either 
something  has  been  done  by  persons  with 
whose  characters  I  am  intimately  acquainted, 
utterly  at  variance  with  their  nature,  and 
unaccountable,  or  else  that  some  man  to 
whom  I  am  personally  a  stranger,  (thousrh 
after  all,  the  nature  of  every  human  Being 
must  be  better  known  to  us,  than,  by  the 
light  of  reason,  that  of  the  Deity  can  be,) 
had  done  something  which  to  me  is  entirely 
inexplicable,  I  should  be  thought  void  of 
sense  if  I  did  not  embrace,  as  the  less  im- 
probable, this  latter  side  of  the  alternative. 

"  And  such  is  the  state  of  the  present 
case,  to  one  who  finds  this  peculiarity  in  the 
Christian  Scriptures  quite  unaccountable  on 
either  supposition.  The  argument  is  com- 
plete, whether  we  are  able,  or  not,  to  per- 
ceive any  wise  reasons  for  the  procedure 
adopted.  Since  no  one  of  the  first  promul- 
gators  of  Christianity  did  that  which  they 
must,  some  of  them  at  least,  have  been  na- 
turally led  to  do,  it  follows  that  they  must 
have  been  supernaturally  withheld  from  it ; 
how  little  soever  we  may  be  able  even  to 
conjecture  the  object  of  the  prohibition. 
For  in  respect  of  this,  and  several  other 
(humanly  speaking,  unaccountable)  cir- 
cumstances in  our  religion,  especially  that 
treated  of  in  the  Fourth  of  the  Essays  above 
referred  to,  it  is  important  to  observe,  that 
the  argument  does  not  turn  on  the  supposed 
wisdom  of  this  or  that  appointment,  which 
we  conceive  to  be  worthy  of  the  Deity,  and 
thence  infer  that  the  religion  must  have 
proceeded  from  him  ;  but,  on  the  utter  im- 
probability of  its  having  proceeded  from  Man ; 
which  leaves  its  divine  origin  the  only  al- 
ternative. The  Christian  Scriptures  con- 
sidered in  this  point  of  view,  present  to  us  a 
standing  Miracle  ;  at  least,  a  Monument  of  a 
Miracle;  since  they  are  in  several  points 
such  as  we  may  be  sure,  according  to  all 
natural  causes,  they  would  not  have  been. 
Even  though  the  character  which  these 
writings  do  in  fact  exhibit,  be  such  as  we 
cannot  clearly  account  for  on  any  hypothe- 
sis, still,  if  they  are  such  as  we  can  clearly 
perceive  no  false  pretenders  would  have 
composed,  the  evidence  is  complete,  though 
the  difficulty  may  remain  unexplained." — 
Essay  on  Omissions,  pp.  19 — 24. 


NOTE  (F.)  P.  34. 

"THE  three  great  principles,  then,  on 
which  every  Church,  or  Christian  society, 
was  formed  by  the  apostles,  were  SPIRITU- 
ALITY, UNIVERSALITY  and  UNITY.  Out  of 
these  arose  one  important  limit  to  the  discre- 
tionery  powers  of  the  uninspired  Church, 
when  deprived  of  extraordinary  authority. 
It  is  of  the  last  importance  that  this  fact 
should  be  borne  in  mind,  in  every  appeal  to 


APPENDIX. 


83   ' 


the  practice  and  authority  of  the  primitive 
Church.  There  is  (even  among  protestant 
divines)  a  vague  method  of  citing  the  au- 
thority of  the  early  Churches  in  matters  of 
discipline  and  practice,  without  any  distinct 
view  of  the  exact  weight  of  that  authority. 
In  quoting  doctrinal  statements  we  are  gene- 
rally more  accurate  in  our  estimate !  but  it  is 
undeniable,  that  the  practices  and  discipline 
of  the  primitive  Churches,  are  subject  to  the 
same  kind  of  check  from  Scripture  as  are 
their  opinions  and  faith ;  and  are  in  no  in- 
stance to  be  received  as  if  they  were  matters 
left  altogether  to  their  discretion.  The  prin- 
ciples, although  not  the  specific  rules,  are 
given  in  the  New  Testament :  and  this  is, 
perhaps,  nearly  all  that  is  done  in  the  case 
of  the  doctrines  themselves.  Only  the  ele- 
ments, out  of  which  these  are  to  be  com- 
posed, are  furnished  by  Scripture.  So  far 
from  being  stated  in  a  formal  way,  some  of 
the  abstract  terms  for  these  doctrines  are  not 
found  in  the  Scriptures ;  such  a  statement 
and  enunciation  of  them  being  left  to  the 
discretion  of  the  Church.  So,  too,  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  Church  establishment  were 
given,  and  were  put  in  practice  for  illustra 
don  ;  and  the  application  of  these  principles 
was  all  that  was  left  to  the  discretion  of  its 
uninspired  rulers.  In  short,  every  Church, 
in  all  ages,  holds  Scripture  in  its  hand  as  its 
warrant  for  its  usages  as  well  as  for  its  doc- 
trines; and  had  the  immediate  successors 
and  companions  of  the  apostles,  from,  the 
very  first,  corrupted  the  government  and 
constitution  of  the  Church,  we  should  be 
enabled  to  condem  them,  from  the  New 
Testament ;  and  to  this  test  it  is  the  duty  of 
all  ages  to  bring-  them.  Their  management 
of  those  matters  which  are  said  to  be  left  in- 
determinate has  only  the  authority  of  an 
experiment ;  it  is  a  practical  illustration  of 
Scripture  principles.  Whenever  they  have 
been  successful  in  this  experiment,  it  would, 
indeed,  generally  be  unwise  and  presump- 
tuous in  us  to  hazard  a  different  mode  of  at- 
taining the  same  result ;  but  even  here,  any 
deviation  is  authorized  by  difference  of  cir- 
cumstances ;  the  same  principle  which 
guided  them  being  kept  in  view  by  us.  But, 
in  whatever  stage  of  ecclesiastical  history  the 
principle  itself  has  been  forgotten, — it  mat- 
ters not  how  far  back  the  practice  may  be 
traced, — it  has  no  authority  as  a  precedent. 
The  Bible  is  our  only  attested  rule ;  and  we 
must  appeal  to  it  with  the  boldness  recom- 
mended by  the  apostle  to  his  converts  ;  and 
though  an  angel  from  heaven  preach  unto 
us  any  other  rule  than  that  we  have  re- 
ceived, let  him  be  accursed. 

"This  boundary  line  to  the  discretionary 
powers  of  the  Church  would  be  quite  clear, 
supposing  the  ecclesiastical  principles  to 
have  been  left  only  as  above  considered,  in 
the  form  of  abstract  instruction,  whether  for- 
mally enunciated,  or  certainly  deducible  from 
the  Scriptures.  But  far  more  than  this  was 
done.  On  these  very  principles  the  apostles 
actually  formed  and  regulated  societies  of 


Christians  ;  so  as  to  leave  them  not  merely 
abstractly  propounded  but  practically  proved. 
This  proceeding,  while  it  lightened  the 
difficulty  of  the  uninspired  Church,  (espe- 
cially of  those  who  first  received  the  guid- 
ance of  it  from  the  apostles,  and  who  most 
needed  it,)  proportionably  contracted  the  dis- 
cretionary powers  with  which  they  were  in- 
vested. If  only  abstract  principles  had  been 
left,  uninspired  authorities  would  have  been 
justified  in  regarding  solely  these,  and  re- 
gulating the  means  of  conformity  to  them 
by  their  own  unbiassed  judgment.  But  the 
apostolical  precedents  created  a  new  restric- 
tion. Rulers  of  infalliblejudgment  had  not 
only  taught  the  principle,  but  the  precise 
method  by  which  that  principle  was  best 
preserved  had  been  practised  by  them,  and 
set  forth,  apparently  for  the  guidance  of 
their  less  enlightened  successors. 

"  Was  the  Church  of  all  ages  bound  to 
follow  their  track  without  any  deviation? 
If  so,  where  was  any  room  for  discretionary 
power?  If  not,  on  what  authority  was  the 
deviation  to  be  made,  and  how  far  was  k 
authorized  ?  Here  the  most  accurate  view 
of  the,  character  and  object  of  the  Christian's 
sacred  record  is  necessary,  in  order  to  remove 
all  obscurity  from  the  question.  That  re- 
cord, as  far  as  the  agency  of  human  minis- 
ters is  its  object,  is  partly  historical,  partly 
legislative.  The  two  terms  are  not,  per- 
haps, quite  expressive  of  the  distinction  in- 
tended ;  but  by  Scripture  being  partly  legis- 
lative, is  meant,  that  it  is  partly  concerned 
in  conveying  the  rules  and  principles  of  re- 
ligion— the  revealed  will,  in  short,  of  God. 
It  is  also  partly  historical ;  and  of  the  histo- 
rical portion  no  inconsiderable  share  is  solely 
or  principally  a  practical  illustration  of  these 
rules.  History  and  legislation  are  indeed 
both  blended;  and  it  is  because  they  are  thus 
connected  :  but  the  respective  uses  of  them, 
as  distinct  portions  of  Scripture,  are  here,  as 
in  other  questions  of  a  similar  nature,  very 
important.  When  the  historical  incidents, 
the  facts  recorded,  are  recorded  as  specimens 
of  the  fulfiment  of  God's  will,  their  only  au- 
thority, as  precedents  and  examples,  arises 
from  their  conformity  to  the  principle  which 
they  illustrate.  Now  it  is  conceivable  and 
likely,  that  a  change  of  circumstances  may 
render  a  practice  inconsistent  with  such  a 
principle,which  originally  was  most  accord- 
ant with  it,  and  vice  versa.  The  principle, is 
the  fixed  point,  and  the  course  which  has  first 
attained  it  may  become  as  unsuitable  to  an- 
other who  pursues  it,  as  the  same  line  of  direc- 
tion would  be  for  two  voyagers  who  should 
be  steering  for  the  same  landmark  at  different 
seasons,  and  with  different  winds.  Still,  as 
in  this  latter  case,  the  first  successful  attempt 
would  be,  to  a  certain  extent,  a  guide  to  those 
which  follow ;  and  this,  exactly  in  propor- 
tion to  the  skill  of  the  forerunner.  The 
apostles  were  known  to  be  infallible  guides; 
and  those  who  immediately  succeeded  them, 
and  all  subsequent  ages,  are  quite  sure  that 
they  must  have  pursued  that  which  was, 


84 


APPENDIX. 


under  the  existing  circumstances,  the  most  generated,  would  have  ended  in  a  careless 
direct  line  to  their  object, — that,  situated  as  and  contented  apathy.  There  would  have 
Christianity  was  in  their  hands,  all  their  re-  ,  been  no  room  for  doubt, — no  call  for  vigilant 
gulations  were  the  best  possible  for  preserv-  ,  attention  in  the  investigation  of  truth,— none 
ing  the  principles  of  the  Church  establish-  i  of  that  effort  of  mind  which  is  now  requisite, 
ment  and  government.  The  uninspired  in  comparing  one  passage  with  another,  and 
Church  was  therefore  bound  to  follow  them,  !  collecting  instruction  from  the  scattered,  ob- 
until  any  apostolical  practice  should  be  |  lique,  and  incidental  references  to  various 
found  inadequate  to  accomplish  its  original  doctrines  in  the  existing  Scriptures  ;  and,  in 
purpose.  Here  commence  the  discretion  !  consequence,  none  of  that  excitement  of  the 
and  responsibility  ;'  the  first  obligation  being  best  feelings,  and  that  improvement  of  the 


to  maimain  the  principle  according  to  the 
best  of  their  judgment,  as  the  prudent  steers- 
man alters  his  track  and  deviates  from  the 
course  marked  out  in  his  chart,  when  wind 
or  tide  compel  him  to  the  deviation. 

"  And  thus  we  shall  be  at  no  loss  for  the 
precise  difference  of  authority  between  the 
precedents  of  the  apostolical  and  of  the  pri- 
mitive uninspired  Church.  In  matters  which 
admit  of  appeal  to  the  usage  of  the  aposto- 
lical Church,  we  are  sure,  not  only  that  the 
measure  was  wise,  but  the  very  wisest ;  and, 
accordingly,  the  only  question  is,  whether  its 
suitableness  has  been  affected  by-any  change 


heart,  which  are  the  natural,  and  doubtless 
the  designed  result  of  an  humble,  diligent, 
and  sincere  study  of  the  Christian  Scrip- 
tures. 

"  In  fact,  all  study,  properly  so  called,  of 
the  rest  of  Scripture, — all  lively  interest  in 
its  perusal, — would  have  been  nearly  su- 
perseded by  such  an  inspired  compendium 
of  doctrine  j  to  which  alone,  as  far  the  most 
convenient  for  that  purpose,  habitual  refer- 
ence would  have  been  made,  in  any  ques- 
tions that  might  arise.  Both  would  have 
been  regarded,  indeed,  as  of  divine  authority ; 
but  the  Compendium,  as  the  fused  and  puri- 


of  circumstances.     On  the  other  hand,  in  a  '  fied  metal ;  the  other,  as  the  mine  containing 
similar  reference  to  the  uninspired  Church    the  crude  ore.     And  the  Compendium  it- 


of  any  age,  the  measure  is  first  of  all  pro- 
nounced wise  or  unwise — lawful  or  unlaw- 
ful, as  it  conduces  or  not  to  the  maintenance 
of  the  revealed  principles  of  ecclesiastical 
society.  And,  supposing  the  measure  un- 
der consideration  be  proved  to  have  been  so 
conducive,  still  it  is  not  at  once  certain  as  in 
the  former  case,  that  it  was  the  wisest  and 
most  judicious  measure  which  the  existing 
circumstances  required  or  admitted.  It  ema- 
nated from  fallible  wisdom.  Accordingly,  in 
canvassing  the  authority  of  such  a  prece- 
dent, we  are  authorized  and  bound  to  insti- 
tute two  inquiries  : — Was  the  measure  the 
most  accordant  with  ecclesiastical  principles 
then?  Is  it  so  now?  Whereas,  in  the  for- 
mer appeal  to  apostolic  usage,  the  only 
question  is,  whether  it  is  convenient  now? 
— Encyclopedia  Metropolitana,  (Historical 
Division,)  vol.  ii.  pp.  7/5,  776. 


NOTE  (G.)  P.  38. 

"  SUPPOSING  such  a  summary  of  Gospel- 
truths  had  been  drawn  up,  and  could  have 
been  contrived  with  such  exquisite  skill  as 
to  be  sufficient  and  well-adapted  for  all,  of 
every  age  and  country,  what  would  have 
been  the  probable  result?  It  would  have 
commanded  the  unhesitating  assent  of  all 
Christians,  who  would,  with  deep  venera- 
tion, have  stored  up  the  very  words  of  it  in 
their  memory,  without  any  need  of  labori- 
ously searching  the  rest  of  the  Scriptures,  to 
ascertain  its  agreement  with  them ;  which  is 
what  we  do  (at  least  are  evidently  called  on 
to  do  with  a  human  exposition  of  the  faith  ; 
and  the  absence  of  this  labour,  together  with 
the  tranquil  security  as  to  the  correctness  of 
'heir  belief  which  would  have  been  thus 


self,  being  not,  like  the  existing  Scriptures, 
that  from  which  the  faith  is  to  be  learned,  but 
the  very  thing  to  be  learned,  would  have 
come  to  be  regarded  by  most  with  an  indo- 
lent, unthinking  veneration,  which  would 
have  exercised  little  or  no  influence  on  the 
character.  Their  orthodoxy  would  have 
been,  as  it  were,  petrified,  like  the  bodies  of 
those  animals  we  read  of  incrusted  in  the 
ice  of  the  polar  regions  ;  firm-fixed,  indeed, 
and  preserved  unchangeable,  but  cold,  mo- 
tionless, lifeless.  It  is  only  when  our  ener- 
gies are  roused,  and  our  faculties  exercised, 
and  our  attention  kept  awake,  by  an  ardent 
pursuit  of  truth,  and  anxious  watchfulness 
against  error, — when,  in  short,  we  feel  our- 
selves to  be  doing  something  towards  ac- 
quiring, or  retaining,  or  improving  our 
knowledge, — it  is  then  only,  that  that 
knowledge  makes  the  requisite  practical  im- 
pression on  the  heart  and  on  the  conduct." 
— Essay  on  Omissions,  pp.  34 — 37. 


NoTE(H.)  P.  41. 

MANY  persons  are  so  accustomed  to  hear 
"the  tradition  of  the  primitive  Church" 
spoken  of  as  "  designed  to  be  the  interpreter 
of  Scripture,"  that  they  insensibly  lose  sight 
of  the  well-known  facts  of  early  Christian 
History.  Conformably  with  those  facts  it 
would  be  much  more  correct  to  speak  of 
Scripture  as  having  been  designed  to  be  the 
interpreter  of  Tradition.  For,  the  first 
Churches  did  not,  it  should  be  remembered, 
receive  their  religion  from  the  Christian 
Scriptures,  (as  the  Israelites  did  theirs  from 
the  books  of  Moses)  but  from  oral  teaching. 

To  guard  against  the  errors,  and  doubts, 
and  defects,  and  corruptions,  to  which  oral 


APPENDIX.  85 

Tradition  must  ever  be  liable,  the  sacred  j  of  what  is  written  in  it ;  and,  therefore,  he 
books, — all  of  them  addressed  to  persons  who  'may  as  well  at  once  take  their  word  for 
were  already  Christians — were  provided  as  a  every  thing,  and  believe  in  his  religion  on 
lasting,  pure,  and  authoritative  record;  their  assurance. 

"  that  they  might  know  the  certainty  of  those  "And  this  is  what  many  persons  do.  But 
things  wherein  they  had  been  instructed."  others  will  be  apt  to  say,  *  How  can  we  tell 

We  find  accordingly,  as  might  have  been  that  the  learned  have  not  deceived  us?  The 
expected,  the  references  to  Scripture  in  the  Mohammedans  take  the  word  of  the  learned 
works  of  the  early  Fathers,  less  and  less  men  among  them  ;  and  the  Pagans  do  the 
frequent  and  exact,  the  higher  we  go  back  same;  and  if  the  people  have  been  imposed 
towards  the  days  of  the  Apostles ;  i.  e.  to-  upon  by  their  teachers  in  Mohammedan 
wards  the  time  when  the  Churches  had  re-  and  Pagan  countries,  how  can  we  tell  that 
ceived  Christian  history  and  doctrines  by  j  it  is  not  the  same  in  Christian  countries "? 
oral  instruction  only.  L  What  ground  have  we  for  trusting  with  such 

The  scattered  notices  however  in  the  {perfect  confidence  in  our  Christian  teachers, 
works  of  the  early  Fathers,  of  facts  and  that  they  are  men  who  would  not  deceive  us?' 
doctrines  substantially  the  same  as  we  find  "  The  truth  is,  however,  that  an  unlearned 
in  the  Sacred  Books,  and  also  of  those  books  Christian  may  have  very  good  grounds  for 
themselves,  is  a  most  valuable  evidence,  !  being  a  believer,  without  placing  this  entire 
that  (as  Paley  remarks)  the  Gospel  which  j  confidence  in  any  man.  He  may  have  reason 
Christians  have  now  is  the  same  as  Chris-  j  to  believe  that  there  are  ancient  Greek  ma- 
tians  had  then.  This  evidence  has  been  nuscripts  of  the  New  Testament,  though  he 
well  compared  to  that  afforded  by  the  fossil  I  never  saw  one,  nor  could  read  it  if  he  did. 
remains  of  antediluvian  animals  which  And  he  may  be  convinced  that  an  English 


Geologists  have  examined,  and  which  prove 
that  elephants,  for  instance,  and  such  other 
animals,  inhabited  the  earth  at  a  certain  re- 
mote period. 

And  it  may  be  added,  that  Naturalists  are 
accustomed,  in  examining  fossil  remains, — 
often  mere  fragments  of  skeletons, — to  com- 
pare them  with  such  existing  animals  as  ap- 
pear to  be  of  kindred  nature ;  interpreting, 
if  we  may  so  speak,  the  less  known  by  the 
better  kno'wn,  and  thus  forming  reasonable 
conjectures  as  to  the  general  appearance 


Bible  gives  the  meaning  of  the  original, 
though  he  may  not  trust  completely  to  any 
one's  word.  In  fact,  he  may  have  the  same 
sort  of  evidence  in  this  case,  which  every 
one  trusts  to  in  many  other  cases,  where 
none  but  a  madman  would  have  any  doubt 
at  all. 

"  For  instance,  there  is  no  one  tolerably 
educated  who  does  not  know  that  there  is 
such  a  country  as  France,  though  he  may 
never  have  been  there  himself.  Who  is 
there  that  doubts  whether  there  are  such 


and  character  of  the  fossil  animal  as  it  for-  I  cities  as  London,  and  Paris,  and  Rome, 
merly  existed.  But  no  one  would  think  of  though  he  may  have  never  visited  them'? 
reversing  this  process,  and  taking  the  fossil  t  Most  people  are  fully  convinced  that  the 
elephant,  for  instance,  as  a  standard  by  :  world  is  round,  though  there  are  but  few 
which  to  correct  and  modify  the  descrip-  j  who  have  sailed  round  it.  There  are  many 

persons  living  in  the  inland  parts  of  these 
islands  who  never  saw  the  sea;  and  yet  none 


tiori  and  delineation  of  the  animal  now  exist- 
ing among  us. 

Even  so,  when  we  meet  with  any  thing 
in  the  Ancient  Fathers  which  was  likely  to 
have  been  derived  by  tradition  from  "the 
Apostles,  the  obviously  rational  procedure 
is,  to  expound  and  interpret  this  by  the  writ- 


ings of  the  Apostles  that  have  come  down 
to  us. 


of  them,  even  the  most  ignorant  clowns, 
have  any  doubt  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
the  sea.  We  believe  all  these,  and  many 
other  such  things,  because  we  have  been 
told  them. 


"  Now  suppose  any  one  should  say, e  How 
do  you  know  that  travellers  have  not  imposed 
upon  you  in  all  these  matters ;  as  it  is  well 
known  travellers  are  apt  to  do  ?  Is  there 
any  traveller  you  can  so  fully  trust  in,  as  to 
NOTE  (I.)  P.  45.  be  quite  sure  he  would  not  deceive  you  ?' 

What  would  you  answer  ?     I  suppose  you 

"SoME  one  may  perhaps  ask  you,  how  would  say,  one  traveller  might,  perhaps, 
you  can  know,  except  by  taking  the  word  i  deceive  us  ;  or  even  two  or  three  might  pos- 
of  the  learned  for  it,  that  there  are  these  sibly  combine  to  propagate  a  false  story,  in 


Greek  and  Hebrew  originals  which  have 
been  handed  down  from  ancient  times  ?  or 
how  you  can  be  sure  that  our  translations 
Jof  them  are  faithful,  except  by  trusting  to 
the  translators  ? 


some  case  where  hardly  any  one  would  have 
the  opportunity  to  detect  them  :  but  in  these 
matters  there  are  hundreds  and  thousands 
who  would  be  sure  to  contradict  the  accounts 


So  that  an  unlearned  (  if  they  were  not  true  ;  and  travellers  are 
Christian  must,  after  all,  (some  people  will  :  often  glad  of  an  opportunity  of  detecting 
tell  you.)  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  learned,  in  |  each  other's  mistakes.  Many  of  them  dis- 
what  relates  to  the  very  foundations  of  his  '  agree  with  each  other  in  several  particu- 
faith.  He  must  take  their  word  (it  will  be  lars  respecting  the  cities  of  Paris  and  Rome; 
said)  for  the  very  existence  of  the  Bible  in  f  and  if  it  had  been  false  that  there  are  any 
the  original  languages,  and  for  the  meaning  '  such  cities  at  all,  it  is  impossible  but  that 


86 


APPENDIX. 


I  the  falsehood  'should  have  been  speedily 
contradicted.  And  it  is  the  same  with  the 
existence  of  the  sea, — the  roundness  of  the 
world, — and  the  other  things  that  were  men- 
tioned. 

It  is  in  the  same  manner  that  we  believe, 
on  the  word  of  the  astronomers,  that  the 
earth  turns  round  every  twenty-four  hours, 
though  we  are  insensible  of  the  motion ;  ajid 
that  the  sun,  which  seems  as  if  you  could 
cover  it  with  your  hat,  is  immensely  larger 
than  the  earth  we  inhabit ;  though  there  is 
not  one  person  in  ten  thousand  that  has 
ever  gone  through  the  mathematical  proof 
of  this.  And  yet  we  have  very  good  rea- 
son for  believing  it;  not  from  any  strong 
confidence  in  the  honesty  of  any  particular 
astronomer,  but  because  the  same  things 
are  attested  by  many  different  astronomers, 
who  are  so  far  from  combining  together  in 
a  false  account,  that  many  of  them  rejoice 
in  any  opportunity  of  detecting  each  other's 
mistakes. 

"Now  an  unlearned  man  has  just  the 

|  same  sort  of  reason  for  believing  that  there 
are  ancient  copies,  in  Hebrew  and  Greek, 
of  the  Christian  sacred  books,  and  of  the 
works  of  other  ancient  authors,  who  men- 
tion some  things  connected  with  the  origin  of 
Christianity.  There  is  no  need  for  him  to 
place  full  confidence  in  any  particular  man's 
honesty.  For  if  any  book  were  forged  by 
some  learned  men  in  these  days,  and  put 
forth  as  a  translation  from  an  ancient  book, 
there  are  many  other  learned  men,  of  this, 
and  of  various  other  countries,  and  of  dif- 
ferent religions,  who  would  be  eager  to 
make  an  inquiry,  and  examine  the  question, 
and  would  be  sure  to  detect  any  forgery, 
especially  on  an  important  subject. 

"And  it  is  the  same  with  translators. 
Many  of  these  are  at  variance  with  each 
other  as  to  the  precise  sense  of  some  particu- 
lar passage ;  and  many  of  them  are  very 
much  opposed  to  each  other,  as  to  the  doc- 
!  trines  which  they  believe  to  be  taught  in 
Scripture.  But  all  the  different  versions  of 
the  Bible  agree  as  to  the  main  outline  of  the 
history,  and  of  the  discourses  recorded  :  and 
therefore  an  unlearned  Christian  may  be  as 
sure  of  the  general  sense  of  the  original  as 
if  he  understood  the  language  of  it,  and 
could  examine  it  for  himself;  because  he  is 
sure  that  unbelievers,  who  are  opposed  to 
all  Christians,  or  different  sects  of  Chris- 
tians, who  are  opposed  to  each  other,  would 
not  fail  to  point  out  any  errors  in  the  trans- 
lations made  by  their  opponents.  Scholars 
have  an  opportunity  to  examine  and  inquire 
into  the  meaning  of  the  original  works ; 
and  therefore  the  very  bitterness  with  which, 
they  dispute  against  each  other,  proves  that 
where  they  all  agree  they  must  be  right. 

"  All  these  ancient  books,  in  short,  and 
all  the  translations  of  them,  are  in  the  con- 
dition of  witnesses  placed  in  a  witness-box, 
in  a  court  of  justice;  examined  and  cross-ex- 

j  amined  by  friends  and  enemies,  and  brought 
face  to  face  with  each  other,  so  as  to  make 


it  certain  that  any  falsehood  or  mistake  will 
be  brought  to  light." — Easy  Lessons  on  Chris- 
tian  Evidences,  pp.  23 — 27. 


NOTE  (K.)     Pp.  48, 53. 

I  WILL  take  the  liberty  of  here  inserting 
extracts  from  the  articles  "Authority"  and 
"Church,"  in  the  Appendix  (on  Ambi- 
guous Terms)  to  the  Elements  of  Logic. 

"Authority. — This  word  is  sometimes  em- 
ployed in  its  primary  sense,  when  we  refer 
to  any  one's  example,  testimony  or  judg- 
ment :  as  when,  e.  $.,  we  speak  of  correct- 
ing a  reading  in  some  book,  on  the  Author- 
ity of  an  ancient  MS. — giving  a  statement 
of  some  fact,  on  the  authority  of  such  and 
such  historians,  &c. 

"  In  this  sense  the  word  answers  pretty 
nearly  to  the  Latin  'Auctoritas.' 

"  Sometimes  again  it  is  employed  as  equi- 
valent to  '  Potestas,'  Power  :  as  when  we 
speak  of  the  Authority  of  a  Magistrate,  &c. 

"  Many  instances  maybe  found  in  which 
writers  have  unconsciously  slid  from  one 
sense  of  the  word  to  another,  so  as  to  blend 
confusedly  in  their  minds  the  two  ideas.  In 
no  case  perhaps  has  this  more  frequently 
happened  than  when  we  are  speaking  of 
the  Authority  of  the  Church  :  in  which  the 
ambiguity  of  the  latter  word  (see  the  Ar- 
ticle Church)  comes  in  aid  of  that  of 
the  former.  The  Authority  (in  the  primary 
sense)  of  the  Catholic,*.  e.Universal  Church, 
at  any  particular  period,  is  often  appealed 
to,  in  support  of  this  or  that  doctrine  or  prac- 
tice :  and  it  is,  justly,  supposed  that  the 
opinion  of  the  great  body  of  the  Christian 
World  affords  a  presumption  (though  only 
a  presumption)  in  favour  of  the  correctness 
of  any  interpretation  of  Scripture,  or  the  ex- 
pediency, at  the  time,  of  any  ceremony, 
regulation,  Sic. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  each  particular 
Church  has  Authority  in  the  other  sense, 
viz.,  Power,  over  its  own  members,  (as  long 
as  they  choose  to  remain  members,)  to  en- 
force any  thing  not  contrary  to  God's  Word. 
But  the  Catholic  or  Universal  Church,  not 
being  one  religious  community  on  earth,  can 
have  no  authority  in  the  sense  of  power; 
since  it  is  notorious  that  there  never  was  a 
time  when  the  power  of  the  Pope,  of  a 
Council,  or  of  any  other  human  Governors, 
over  all  Christians,  was  in  fact  admitted,  or 
could  be  proved  to  have  any  just  claim  to 
be  admitted."— Pp.  349,  350. 
•  "  Church  is  sometimes  employed  to  sig- 
nify the  Church,  i.  e.  the  Universal  or  Ca- 
tholic Church, — comprehending  in  it  all 
Christians;  who  are  ' Members  one  of  an- 
other," and  who  compose  the  body,  of  which 
Christ  is  the  Head;  which,  collectively  taken, 
has  no  visible  supreme  Head  or  earthly  go- 
vernor, either  individual  or  council;  and 
which  is  one,  only  in  reference  to  its  One 
invisible  Governor  and  Paraclete,  the  Spirit 


APPENDIX.  87 


of  Christ,  dwelling  in  it, — to  the  one  com- 
mon faith,  and  character,  which  ought  to 
be  found  in  all  Christians, — and  the  com- 
mon principles  on  which  all  Christian  so- 
cieties should  be  constituted.  See  Hind's 
History  of  the  Rise  of  Christianity. 

"  Sometimes  again  it  is  employed  to  sig- 
nify a  Church ;  i.  e.  any  one  Society,  con- 
stituted on  these  general  pri nciples  ;  having 
governors  on  earth,  and  existing  as  a  com- 
munity possessing  a  certain  power  over  its 
own  members  ;  in  which  sense  we  read  of 
the  '  Seven  Churches  in  Asia;' — of  Paul's 
having  '  the  care  of  all  the  Churches/  &c." 
—P.  353. 

The  two  senses  of  the  word  "  Authority" 
are  in  most  cases  so  easily  and  completely 
distinguished,  even  by  persons  of  no  more 
than  ordinary  accuracy  in  the  use  of  lan- 
guage, that  many  would  be  disposed,  at  the 
first  glance,  to  wonder  how  any  confusion 
ever  could  arise  from  the  ambiguity.  Men 
receive,  for  instance,  on  the  "  authority"  of 
certain  experienced  Physicians  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  symptoms  of  the  Plague  or  some 
other  disease,  and  their  method  of  treating 
it;  and  on  the  "  authority"  of  Astronomers, 
statements  and  theories  relative  to  the  hea- 
venly bodies.  So  also,  it  is  on  the  authority 
of  the  ancient  Romans, — not  of  the  Roman 
State,  but  the  Roman  Public, — that  we 
acknowledge  the  works  ,of  Cicero  and  Ho- 
race and  other  classical  authors.  In  all 
these  and  innumerable  similar  cases,  no 
such  idea  as  coercive  power  or  claim  of  sub- 
mission as  a  matter  of  obligation,  is  ever 
suggested  to  the  mind  by  the  word  "  autho- 
rity." But  it  often  happens  that  the  judg- 
ment is  even  much  more  influenced  by 
authority  in  this  sense,  than  it  would  have 
been  by  a  formal  decree  of  some  regularly 
constituted  Body.  For  instance,  if  any  one 
happened  to  have  conversed  on  some  sub- 
ject with  all,  or  nearly  all,  the  individual 
members  of  the  House  of  Commons  sepa- 
rately and  independently,  and  had  found 
them  all  to  concur  in  respect  of  some  fact 
or  opinion,  this  concurrence,  though  desti- 
tute of  all  legal  force,  would  doubtless  have 
more  weight  with  his  judgment  than  a 
regular  vote  of  the  House,  if  carried  by  a 
bare  majority,  in  a  House  consisting,  per- 
haps, of  not  one-fifth  of  the  whole  number 
of  members,  and  perhaps  opposed  by  the 
most  judicious  and  best  informed  of  them. 
And  even  so,  if  the  Roman  senate,  or  some 
regularly  constituted  academy  at  Rome,  had 
formally  pronounced  on  the  genuineness  of 
the  ^Eneid,  our  conviction  would  not  cer- 
tainly have  been  stronger,  and  would  most 
likely  have  been  much  weaker,  than  now 
that  it  is  based  on  the  independent,  sponta- 
neous, and  undisputed  belief  of  all  who 
took  an  interest  in  the  subject. 

The  authority  on  which  we  rest  our  con- 
viction of  the  genuineness  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament Scriptures,  is  of  the  same  kind, 
though  incomparably  stronger  in  degree. 
For  it  is  not  to  the  Roman  world  in  its 


widest  acceptation,  but  to  the  literary  por- 
tion of  it,  that  we  appeal,  in  respect  of  any 
volume  of  the  Classics.  On  the  contrary, 
the  Christian  Scriptures  were  addressed  to 
all  classes ;.  (the  doctrine  of  what  is  called 
"  Reserve" — of  putting  the  light  of  the  Gos- 
pel under  a  bushel — being  no  part  of  the 
Apostolic  system)  so  that  probably  for  one 
reader  of  Cicero  or  Livy  there  were  more 
than  fifty  persons, — even  in  a  very  early 
period  of  the  Church, — anxious  to  possess 
copies  of  the  New  Testament  Scriptures, 
and  careful,  in  proportion  to  the  high  im- 
portance of  the  subject,  as  to  the  genuine- 
ness and  accuracy  of  what  they  read.  On 
this  point  I  will  take  the  liberty  of  citing  the 
words  of  an  eminent  writer  from  an  un- 
published discourse,  delivered  a  good  many 
years  ago  at  Oxford,  in  a  course  of  lectures. 
.  .  .  .  "  Nothing  is  more  remarkable  in 
Christianity  than  the  care  and  anxiety  with 
which  the  early  Christians  examined  the 
pretensions  of  any  writing  to  be  received  as 
the  work  of  an  Apostle.  This  will  also 
account  for  the  interval  of  time  which 
elapsed  before  all  the  books  of  the  Canon 
became  generally  received.  It  does  not  in- 
deed appear  that  the  genuineness  of  any 
of  the  four  Gospels  was  ever  doubted ;  but 
the  Epistles  being  addressed  to  particular 
Churches,  and  at  various  times,  it  must 
have  required  for  one  of  these  some  interval 
before  its  communication  could  take  place 
throughout  every  country  in  which  the 
Gospel  was  preached,  accompanied  by  such 
evidence  as  should  be  satisfactory  to  every 

other  Church As  soon  as  can  be 

supposed  possible  the  Christians  of  all  coun- 
tries remarkably  agreed  in  receiving  them 
as  canonical ;  while  the  hesitation  of  a  few 
proves  only  that  this  agreement  wa3  not  a 
hasty  or  careless  assent,  but  a  deliberate 

and  unbiassed  judgment It  cannot 

be  too  strongly  pressed  upon  your  attention 
that  the  credit  of  a  canon  thus  composed  is 
infinitely  greater  than  if  it  had  rested  on  the 
authority  of  some  general  Council.  For  the 
decision  of  a  Council  is  the  decision  of  a 
majority  only ;  whereas  this  is  ratified  by 
the  voice  of  every  separate  church.  It  is 
moreover  the  decision  not  of  one  meeting, 
or  of  one  age,  but  the  uncontradicted  belief 
of  all  the  first  churches,  spreading  gradually 
and  naturally  as  the  Gospel  spread  : — a  be- 
lief which  was  not  imposed  by  authority, 
but  was  the  result  of  their  own  cautious 
and  independent  examination." 

I  have  dwelt  thus  fully  on  this  subject 
because  I  believe  there  are  not  a  few  who 
being  accustomed  to  hear  the  authority  of 
the  primitive  church  spoken  of  as  that  on 
which  we  receive  the  New  Testament  Scrip- 
tures, are  led  to  fancy  it  the  authority  of 
some  one  society  acting  collectively,  and  in  its 
corporate  capacity  :  and  thus  they  lose  sight 
of  the  very  circumstance  on  which  the  chief 
force  of  this  testimony  depends ;  namely, 
that  there  was  no  decree  or  decision  of  any 
one  Society,  but — what  has  far  more  weight 


88 


APPENDIX. 


— the  concurring,  independent  convictions 
of  a  great  number  of  distinct  Churches  in 
various  regions  of  the  world. 

NOTE  (L.)  P.  53. 

"  WE  are  often  too  much  disposed,  per- 
haps, not  indeed  to  lay  it  down,  hut  tacitly 
to  assume,  that  those  who  sat  at  the  feet  of 
Apostles  must  be  secure  from  error.  It  is 
more  probable  that  they  would  hold  sub- 
stantial truth  not  unmixed  with  subordinate 
deviations  from  it.  It  was  so  even  during 
the  life-time  of  the  Apostles,  and  why  not 
after  their  decease  ?  If  indeed  the  good  pro- 
vidence of  God  had  not  directed  the  Apos- 
tles themselves  to  bequeath  to  the  Church 
their  own  instructions  in  writing,  and  we 
had  to  gather  them  only  from  the  writings 
of  their  successors,  then  it  might  have  been 
hoped  that  such  very  important  witnesses, 
as  the  Apostolical  Fathers  would  have  thus 
become,  would  have  been  secured  from 
every  mistake,  from  every  error  at  least 
which  could  seriously  mislead  us.  But  as 
it  is,  there  was  no  more  need  of  a  perpetual 
miracle  to  give  such  an  immunity  from 
error  to  the  immediate  successors  of  the 
Apostles  than  to  us.  Moreover,  we  have 
an  unhappy  advantage  over  them,  in  that 
we  know  by  sad  experience  the  fatal  conse- 
quences which  by  degrees  resulted  from 
even  slight  deviations  from  the  language 
and  sentiments  of  Inspiration ;  such  as  a 
sacrificial  character  gradually  ascribed  to 
the  Eucharist,  or  an  improper  exaltation  of 
the  Christian  ministry,  or  praise  allotted 
upon  unscriptural  grounds  to  celibacy  or 
asceticism.  If  Antiquity,  quo  propius  abe- 
rat  ab  ortu  et  divina  progenie,  hoc  melius 
ea  fortasse,  qua3  eranl  vera,  cernebat,  she 
may  have  been  for  that  very  reason,  know- 
ing what  was  true,  and  meaning  what  was 
right,  the  less  suspicious  of  the  effect  of 
slight  deviations  from  the  exact  truth  of 
Holy  Scripture.  We  may  lament,  indeed, 
but  we  cannot  be  surprised,  that  uninspired 
men,  holding  the  truth  substantially  both  as 
to  doctrine  and  discipline,  should  slide  into 
error  here  and  there  in  tone,  or  sentiment, 
or  subordinate  opinion.  Doubtless  their 
errors  should  be  our  warning.  Only  let  us 
be  careful  to  detect  the  seeds  of  error  even 
in  the  writings  of  good  and  holy  men  in 
primitive  times,  not  in  order  to  censure 
them,  but  to  secure  ourselves  ;  to  counter- 
act our  natural  tendency  to  confound  the 
uninspired  with  the  inspired,  and  to  make 
us  doubly  grateful  that  God  has  blessed  His 
Church  with  the  unerring  records,  written 
by  inspired  Apostles,  of  Gospel  truth." — 
Hawkins'  Sermon  on  the  Ministry  of  Men, 
pp.  41,  42. 


NOTE  (M.)  p.  55. 

"  <  But  are  we  then/  (all  Romanists  and 
some  Protestants  would  ask)    'to  be  per- 


petually wavering  and  hesitating  in  our 
faith? — never  satisfied  of  our  own  ortho- 
doxy ? — always  supposing  or  suspecting  that 
there  is  something  unscriptural  in  our  Creed 
or  in  our  worship?  We  could  but  be  in  this 
condition,  if  Christ  had  not  promised  to  be 
with  his  Church,  ''  always,  even  to  the  end 
of  the  world;" — had  not  declared  by  his 
Apostle,  that  his  "Spirit  helpeth  our  infirmi- 
ties ;"  had  not  taught  us  to  expect  that  where 
we  are  "gathered  together  in  his  Name, 
there  is  He  in  the  midst  of  us."  Are  we  to 
explain  away  all  that  Scripture  says  of  spi- 
ritual help  and  guidance?  Or  are  we  to  look 
for  a  certain  partial  and  limited  help  ; — that 
the  Holy  Spirit  will  secure  us  from  some 
errors,  but  lead  us,  or  leave  us,  to  fall  into 
others  V 

"  Such  is  the  statement,  the  most  plausible 
I  can  give  in  a  small  compass,  of  the  Romish 
(but  not  exclusively  Romish)  argument, 
which  goes  to  leave  no  medium  between  a 
claim  to  infallibiliy,  on  the  one  hand,  and 
universal  hesitation, — absolute  Scepticism, 
on  the  other.  An  appeal  to  the  common 
sense  which  every  one,  Romanist  or  Pro- 
testant, exercises  on  all  but  religious  sub- 
jects, might  be  sufficient  to  prove,  from  the 
practice  of  those  very  men  who  use  such 
reasoning,  not  only  its  absurdity,  but  their 
own  conviction  of  its  absurdity.  In  all 
matters  which  do  n«t  admit  of  absolute  de- 
monstration, all  men  except  a  few  of  extra- 
vagant self-conceit,  are  accustomed  to  regard 
themselves  or  those  under  whose  guidance 
they  act,  as  fallible;  and  yet  act,  on  many 
occasions, — after  they  have  taken  due  pains 
to  understand  the  subject,  to  ascertain  their 
own  competency,  and  to  investigate  the 
particular  case  before  them, — without  any 
distressing  hesitation.  There  are  questions 
in  Medicine,  in  Agriculture,  in  Navigation, 
&c.,  which  sensible  men,  well  versed  in  their 
respective  arts,  would  decide  with  sufficient 
confidence  for  all  practical  purposes:  yet 
without  holding  themselves  to  be  infallible, 
but  on  the  contrary  always  keeping  them- 
selves open  to  conviction, — always  on  the 
watch  againsterror, — attentive  to  the  lessons 
which  observation  furnishes, — ready  to  stand 
corrected  if  any  argument  shall  be  adduced 
(however  little'  they  may  anticipate  this) 
which  will  convict  them  of  mistake. 

"  '  Yes,'  (it  may  be  replied)  '  all  this  holds 
good  in  worldly  matters ;  but  in  the  far  more 
important  case  of  religious  concerns,  God 
has  graciously  promised  us  spiritual  assis- 
tance, to  "  lead  us  into  all  truth.  " 

"  It  is  most  true  that  He  has.  Christ  has 
declared,  "'If  any  man  keep  my  saying,  my 
Father  will  love  him,  and  we  will  come  unto 
him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him:'  'with- 
out Me  ye  can  do  nothing  ;'  for  'if  any  man 
have  not  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of 
his ;  and  '  as  many  as  are  led  by  the  Spirit 
of  God,  they  are  the  Sons  of  God.' 

"But  some  distinction  there  must  be  be- 
tween the  spiritual  guidance  granted  to  the 
Apostles,  which  was  accompanied  by  sen- 


APPENDIX.  89 

sible  miracles,  and  all  that  has  ever  been  be-  j  cautious  navigator  keeps  his  reckoning  with 
stowed,,  since  the  cessation  of  miracles.  I  •  care,  but  yet  never  so  far  trusts  to  that  as  not 
do  not  mean  a  difference  as  to  the  evidence  to  '  keep  a  look-out/  as  it  is  termed.,  and  to 

take  an  'observation/  when  opportunity 
offers.  There  is  no  risk  incurred,  from  his 
strongly  hoping  that  his  computations  will 


for  tlie  existence  of  each;  for  both  are  equally 
to  be  believed,  if  we  have  faith  in  the  divine 
promises  :  but  there  must  be  a  difference  in 
the  character  of  the  divine  assistance  in  the 
two  cases,  arising  out  of  the  presence,  in  the 
one,  and  the  absence,  in  the  other,  of  sen- 
sibly miraculous  attestation.  And  this  dif- 
ference evidently  is,  that,  in  the  one  case, 
the  divine  agency  is,  in  each  individual  in- 
stance known;  in  the  other  unknown.  If  an 
Apostle  adopted  any  measure,  or  formed  a 
decision  on  any  doctrine,  in  consequence  of 
a  perceptible  admonition  from  Heaven,  he 
kneiv  that  he  was,  in  this  point,  infallibly 
right.  A  sincere  Christian,  in  the  present 
day,  may  be  no  less  truly  guided  by  the  same 
Spirit  to  adopt  a  right  measure,  or  form  a 
correct  decision ;  but  he  never  can  know  this 
with  certainty,  before  the  day  of  judgment. 
It  is  not  that  spiritual  aid  is  now  withdrawn, 
but  that  it  is  imperceptible  ;  as  indeed  its  or- 
dinary sanctifying  influence  always  was.  It 
is  to  be  known  only  by  its  fruits ;  of  which 
we  may  judge  by  a  diligent  and  candid  exa- 
mination of  Scripture,  and  a  careful,  humble, 
self-distrusting  exercise  of  our  own  fallible 
judgment. 

"  It  is  conceivable,  therefore,  that  an  in- 
dividual or  a  Church  may  be,  in  fact,  free 
from  error ;  but  none  can  ever  be  (either  at 
the  present  moment,  or  in  future)  secure  from 
error.  We  are  not  bound  to  believe,  or  to 
suspect,  that  any  of  the  doctrines  we  hold 
are  erroneous ;  but  we  are  bound  never  to 
?1  such  a  confidence  in  their  correctness, 
to  shut  the  door  against  objection,  and  to 
'dispense  with  a  perpetual  and  vigilant  ex- 
iminalion.  Even  the  fullest  conviction  that 
complete  perfection  in  soundness  of  doc- 
rine  is  attainable  has  in  it  nothing  of  arro- 
gance,— nothing  of  a  presumptuous  claim  to 
infallibility,  as  long  as  we  steadily  keep  in 
view,  that  even  one  who  should  have  at- 
tained this,  never  can,  in  this  life,  be  certain 
>f  it.  We  are  taught,  I  think  in  Scripture, 
>  expect  that  the  pious  and  diligent  student 
'"  be  assisted  by  the  divine  guidance ;  and 
:hat  in  proportion  as  he  is  humble,  patient, 
sincere,  and  watchfully  on  his  guard  against 
that  unseen  current  of  passions  and  pre- 
'udices  which  is  ever  tending  to  drive  him 
nit  of  the  right  course, — in  the  same  degree 
rill  he  succeed  in  attaining  all  necessary 
religious  truths.  But  how  far  he  has  exer- 
cised these  virtues,  or  how  far  he  may  have 
been  deceiving  himself,  he  never  can  be 
certain,  till  the  great  day  of  account.  In  the 
mean  time,  he  must  act  on  his  convictions,  as 
if  he  were  certain  of  their  being  correct;  he 
must  examine  and  re-examine  the  grounds  of 
them  as  jf  he  suspected  them  of  being  erro- 
neous. 

"  In  this  it  is  that  great  part  of  our  trial  in 

the  present  life  consists  :  and  it  is  precisely 

analogous  to  what  takes  place  in  the  greater 

part  of  temporal  concerns.     The  skilful  and 

M 


prove  correct;  provided  he  never  resigns 
himself  to  such  an  indolent  reliance  on  them 
as  to  neglect  any  opportunity  of  verifying 
them.  The  belief,  again,  whether  true  or 
false,  that  it  is  possible  for  a  time-keeper  to 
go  with  perfect  exactness,  can  never  mislead 
any  one  who  is  careful  to  make  allowance 
for  the  possibility  of  error  in  his  own,  and 
to  compare  it,  whenever  he  has  opportunity, 
with  the  Dial  which  receives  the  light  froin 
heaven." — Essay  on  Omissions,  pp.  43 — 49. 


NOTE  (N.)  P.  62. 

"  IT  has  been  said  that  the  Pope,  the 
Bishops,  the  Priests,  and  those  who  dwell  in 
convents,  form  the  spiritual,  or  ecclesiastical 
State ;  and  that  the  princes,  nobles,  citizens, 
and  peasants,  form  the  secular  state  or  laity. 
This1  is  a  fine  story,  truly.  Let  no  one,  how- 
ever, be  alarmed  at  it.  Jill  Christians  belong 
to  the  spiritual  State ;  and  there  is  no  other 
difference  between  them  than  that  of  the 
functions  they  discharge.  * 
*  *  If  any  pious  laymen  were  banished 
to  a  desert,  and  having  no  regularly  con- 
secrated priest  among  them,  were  to  agree 
to  choose  for  that  office  one  of  their  number, 
married  or  unmarried,  this  man  would  be  as 
truly  a  priest  as  if  he  had  been  consecrated 
by  all  the  bishops  in  the  world.  Augustine, 
Ambrose,  and  Cyprian  were  chosen  in  this 
manner.  Hence  it  follows  that  laity  and 
priests,  princes  and  bishops,  or  as  they  say, 
the  Clergy  and  the  Laity,  have,  in  reality, 
nothing  to  distinguish  them,  but  their  func- 
tions. They  all  belong  to  the  same  Estate ; 
but  all  have  not  the  same  work  to  perform," 
&c. — Luth.  Op.  1.  xvii.  f.  457,  et  seq. 

It  may  be  needful  to  add,  that  if  in  a 
Church  thus  constituted,  or  in  any  other, 
the  Laity  are  admitted  to  a  share  in  the  go- 
vernment of  it,  and  to  ecclesiastical  offices, 
this  would  be,  not  only  allowable,  but  wise 
and  right.  That  laymen, — that  is,  those 
who  hold  no  spiritual  office — should  take 
part  in  legislating  for  the  Church,  and  should 
hold  ecclesiastical  offices,  as  in  the  Scotch 
Kirk,  and  in  the  American  Episcopalian 
Church,  (always  supposing,  however,  that 
they  are  MEMBERS  of  the  Church ;  not,  as 
in  this  country,  belonging  to  other  Commu- 
nions) is  far  better  than  that  the  whole  go- 
vernment should  be  in  the  hands  of  men  of 
one  Profession,  the  clerical. 

That  this  has  nothing  of  an  Erastian  cha- 
racter, it  would  be  unnecessary  to  mention, 
but  that  I  have  seen  the  observation — in  it- 
self perfectly  true — made  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  imply  what  is  not  true ;  i.  e.  so  as  to 
imply  that  some  persons  do,  or  may,  main- 
8 


90 


APPENDIX. 


tain  that  there  is  something  of  Erastianism 
in  such  an  arrangement.  But  who  ever 
heard  of  any  such  charge  being  brought? 
Who,  for  instance,  ever  taxed  thevScotch 
Kirk,  or  the  American  Episcopalian,  with 
being  Erastian,  on  account  of  their  having 
Lay-Elders?  Erastianism  has  always  been 
considered  as  consisting  in  making  the  State 
as  such, — the  Civil  Magistrate  by  virtue  of 
his  office, — prescribe  to  the  People  what  they 
shall  believe,  and  how  worship  God. 


NOTE(0.)      P.  71. 

WITH  respect  to  the  first  question  (in  re- 
ference to  lay-baptism)  it  is  plain  that,  ac- 
cording to  the  above  principles,  a  Church 
has  a  right  to  admit,  or  refuse  to  admit, 
Members.  This  right  it  possesses  as  a  So- 
ciety :  as  a  Christian  Society,  sanctioned  by 
our  Heavenly  Master,  it  has  a  right  to  ad- 
minister his  Sacraments  ;  and  it  has  a  right 
to  decide  who  shall  or  shall  not  exercise 
certain  functions,  and  under  what  circum- 
stances. If  it  permit  Laymen  (that  is,  those 
who  are  excluded  from  other  spiritual  func- 
tions) to  baptize,  it  does,  by  that  permission, 
constitute  them  its  functionaries,  in  respect 
of  that  particular  point.  And  this  it  has  a 
right  to  do,  or  to  refuse  to  do.  If  a  Church 
refuse  to  recognize  as  valid  any  baptism  not 
administered  by  such  and  such  officers,  then 
the  pretended  administration  of  it  by  any  one 
else,  is  of  course  null  and  void,  as  wanting 
that  sanction  of  a  Christian  Church  which 
alone  can  confer  validity. 

With  respect  to  the  second  question,  it 
does  appear  to  me  extremely  unadvisable, 
— derogatory  to  the  dignity  of  the  ordinance, 
— and  tending  both  to  superstition  and  to 
profaneness,  that  the  admission,  through  a 
divinely-instituted  Rite,  of  members  into  the 
Society,  should  be  in  any  case  entrusted  to 
persons  not  expressly  chosen  and  solemnly 
appointed  to  any  office  in  that  Society. 

Nearly  similar  reasoning  will  apply,  I 
think,  to  the  case  of  Ordinations.  What 
appears  to  me  the  wisest  course,  would  be 
that  each  Church  should  require  a  distinct 
appointment  by  that  Church  itself,  to  any 
ministerial  office  to  be  exercised  therein; 
whether  the  person  so  appointed  had  been 
formerly  ordained  or  not,  to  any  such  office 
in  another  Church.  But  the  form  of  this 
appointment  need  not  be  such  as  to  cast  any 
stigma  on  a  former  Ordination,  by  implying 
that  the  person  in  question  had  not  been  a 
real  and  regular  minister  of  another  distinct 
Society.  For  any  Church  has  a  fair  right 
to  demand  that  (unless  reason  be  shown  to 
the  contrary)  its  acts  should  be  regarded  as 
valid  within  the  pale  of  that  Church  itself : 
but  no  Church  can  reasonably  claim  a  right 
to  ordain  ministers  for  another  Church. 

As  for  the  remaining  question, — What  is 
the  actual  determination  as  to  this  point, — 
this  i?  of  course  a  distinct  question  in  refer- 
ence tc  each  Churcn. 


On  this  point  it  is  only  necessary  to  re- 
mark how  important  it  is,  with  a  view  to 
good  order  and  peace,  that  some  determina- 
tion should  be  made,  and  should  be  clearly 
set  forth,  by  any  Church,  as  to  this  and  other 
like  practical  questions ;  and  that  they  should 
not  be  left  in  such  a  state  of  uncertainty  as  to 
furnish  occasion  for  disputes  and  scruples.* 
Many  points  of  doctrine,  indeed,  that  may 
fairly  be  regarded  as  non-essential,  it  may  be 
both  allowable  and  wise  for  a  Church  to  leave 
at  large,  and  pronounce  no  decision  on  them ; 
allowing  each  Minister,  if  he  thinks  fit,  to 
put  forth  his  own  exposition,  as  the  result  of 
his  own  judgment,  and  not  as  a  decision  of 
the  Church.  But  it  is  not  so,  in  matters 
even  intrinsically  indifferent,  where  Church 
discipline  is  concerned.  A  Minister  ought  to 
be  as  seldom  as  possible  left  in  the  predica- 
ment of  not  knowing  what  he  ought  to  do  in  a 
case  that  comes  before  him.  And  though  it 
is  too  much  to  expect  from  a  Church  com- 
posed of  fallible  men  that  its  decisions  on 
every  point  should  be  such  as  to  obtain  uni- 
versal approbation  as  the  very  best,  it  is  but 
fair  to  require  that  it  should  at  least  give  de- 
cisions, according  to  the  best  judgment  of  its 
Legislators,  on  points  which,  in  each  parti- 
cular case  that  arises,  must  be  decided  on  one 
way  or  another. 

That  so  many  points  of  this  character 
should  in  pur  own  Church  be  left  in  a  doubt- 
ful state,  is  one  out  of  the  many  evils  result- 
ing from  the  want  of  a  Legislative  Govern- 
ment for  the  Church  :  which  for  more  than 
a  century  has  had  none,f  except  the  Civil 
Legislature ;  a  Body  as  unwilling,  as  it  is 
unfitted,  to  exercise  any  such  functions. 
Such  certainly  was  not  the  state  of  things 
designed  or  contemplated  by  our  Reformers ;  • 
and  I  cannot  well  understand  the  consistency 
of  those  who  are  perpetually  eulogizing  the 
Reformers,  their  principles  and  proceedings, 
and  yet  so  completely  run  counter  to  them 
in  a  most  fundamental  point,  as  to  endeavour 
to  prevent,  or  not  endeavour  to  promote,  the 
establishment  of  a  Church  government; 
which  no  one  can  doubt  they  at  least  regarded 
as  a  thing  essential  to  the  well-being,  if  not 
to  the  permanent  existence,  of  a  Church.^ 

I  have  never  heard  any  thing  worth  notice 
urged  on  the  opposite  side,  except  the  ap- 
prehension that  such  a  Church  government 
as  would  be  probably  appointed  would  be 
likely  to  be  objectionable; — would  probably 
be  a  bad  one.  I  have  no  doubt  of  this ;  if  by 
"  bad"  be  meant,  faulty.  In  this  sense,  I  am 
convinced  that  no  government,  civil  or  ec- 
clesiastical, ever  existed,  or  will  exist,  that 
is  not  "  bad."  All  governments  being  form- 


*  See  "  Appeal  on  behalf  of  Church  govern- 
ment." 

•j-  See  "  Case  of  Occasional  Days  and  Prayers," 
by  John  Johnson,  A.  M.,  Vicar  of  Cranbrook,  in 
the  Diocess  of  Canterbury. 

t  See  "  Speech  on  presenting  a  Petition  from 
the  Diocess  of  Kildare,  with  Appendix,"  reprinted 
in  a  volume  of  Charges  and  other  Tracts. 


APPENDIX. 


91 


ed  and  administered  by  fallible  men,  it  would 
be  absurd  to  look  for  any  that  shall  be  ex- 
empt from  errors,  both  in  design  and  execu- 
tion.* But  the  important  question,  and  that 
which  alone  is  really  to  the  present  purpose, 
is,  whether  it  is  likely  a  Government  should 
be  established  that  is  worse  than  the  absence 
of  government. 

As  for  the  specific  objections  entertained 


world, — that  whatever  Party  might  in  any 
Meeting  or  in  any  Community,  obtain  a  ma- 
jority, or  in  whatever  other  way,  a  superiori- 
ty, would  be  certain  to  carry  out  their  own 
principles  to  the  utmost,  with  a  total  disre- 
gard of  all  the  rest ;  so  that  in  a  Senate  for 
instance,  consisting,  suppose,  of  100  mem- 
bers, a  majority,  whether  of  51  or  49,  or  of 
70  to  40,  or  of  95  to  5,  would  proceed  in  all 


respects  as  if  the  others  had  no  existence : 
and  that  no  mutual  concessions  or  compro- 


against  a  Church  government,  I  believe  the 
particular  evils  most  .commonly  apprehend- 
ed from  the  establishment  of  one,  are  these  j  mises  could  take  place  except  between  parties 
two:  the  conferring  of  an  excessive  power  exactly  balanced.  In  like  manner  a  person 
on  the  Clergy,  who,  it  is  hastily  assumed,  wholly  ignorant  of  Mechanics  might  sup- 
are  to  be  sole  Governors  of  the  Church ;  and  pose  that  a  body  acted  on  by  several  un- 
the  predominance,  in  any  Assembly  to  which 
the  supreme  power  might  be  entrusted,  of 
some  one  of  the  exclusive  and  violent  par- 
ties existing  in  the  Church;  who  would 
accordingly,  it  is  concluded,  establish  and 
enforce  such  regulations  as  would  drive  out 
of  its  Communion  a  large  portion  of  its 
members. 

The  former  of  the  above  objections  will 
disappear,  I  think,  on  a  very  moderate  degree 


equal  forces  in  different  directions  would 
obey  altogether  the  strongest,  and  would 
move  in  the  direction  of  that;  instead  of 
moving,  as  we  know  it  does,  in  the  diagonal; 
— in  a  direction  approaching  nearer  to  that 
if  the  strongest  force;  but  not  coinciding 


of  reflection.  The  idea  that  all  ecclesiastical 
government  must  of  course  be  vested  in 
the  Clergy,  arises,  partly  perhaps,  from  the 
commom  error  of  using  the  terms  "  Church" 
and  "  Clergy"  as  synonymous^partly,  from 
men's  recollecting  that  the  Convocation  (of 
which  the  shadow  still  remains)  consisted 
of  Clergy,  and  forgetting  that  it  had  not  the 
government  of  the  Church  solely,  but  con- 
jointly with  the  King  and  the  Parliament ; — 
that  Parliament  consisted  of  members  in- 
deed, but  not  of  ministers  of  the  Church  ; 
and  that  the  Prayer-book  does  not  rest  on 
the  sole  authority  of  Convocation,  but  is 
part  and  parcel  of  an  Act  of  Parliament. 
And  whether  we  look  to  the  actual  condition 
of  our  own  Church,  in  which  the  appoint- 
ment to  all  the  Bishoprics,  and  to  most  of 
the  Parishes,  is  in  lay-hands,  or  to  the  off- 
shoot of  our  Church  in  the  United  States, 
which  is  governed  partly  by  lay-members, 
we  cannot  consider  it  as  any  thing  unprece- 
dented that  the  Laity  should  have  a  share 
in  Ecclesiastical  government. 

In  truth,  nothing  can  be  more  unlikely 
than  that  either  the  Clergy  should  think  of 
excluding  the  Laity,  or  the  Laity,  them- 
selves, from  all  voice  in  ecclesiastical  regu- 
lations. 

The  other  apprehension, — that  of  a  com- 
plete preponderance  of  some  extreme  party, 
— arises,  I  conceive,  from  not  taking  into 
account  the  influence  which,  in  every  As- 
sembly and  every  Society ,is  always  exer- 
cised,— except  in  some  few  cases  of  very  ex- 
traordinary excitement,  and  almost  of  tem- 
porary disorganization, — by  those  who  are  in 
a  minority.  It  might  appear  at  first  sight — 
and  such  is  usually  the  expectation  of  a  child 
of  ordinary  intelligence,  and  of  all  those  who 
are  deficient  in  an  intelligent  study  of  history 
or  observation  of  what  is  passing  in  the 


Erun  vitia,  donee  homines.' 


with  it. 

And  experience  shows  that  in  human  af- 
"airs  as  well  as  in  Mechanics,  such  expec- 

ations  are  not  well  founded.  If  no  tolera- 
ble wise  and  good  measures  were  ever  car- 
ried except  in  an  Assembly  where  there  was 
a  complete  predominance  of  men  sufficiently 

nlightened   and  public  spirited  to  have  a 
decided  preference  for  those  measures  above 
all  others,  the  world  would,  I  conceive,  be 
much  worse  governed  than  it  really  is. 
No  doubt,  the   larger  the  proportion   of 


,  the  better 
to  be  the 


judicious  and  patriotic  individuals 
for  the  community  ;  but  it  seems 
appointment  of  Providence  that  the  preju- 
dices and  passions,  and  interests  of  different 
men  should  be  so  various  as  not  only  to  keep 
one  another  somewhat  in  check,  but  often 
to  bring  about,  or  greatly  help  to  bring 
about,  mixed  results,  often  far  preferable  to 
any  thing  devised  or  aimed  at  by  any  of  the 
parties. 

The  British  Constitution,  for  instance,  no 
intelligent  reader  of  history  would  regard  as 
wholly  or  chiefly  the  work  of  men  fully 
sensible  of  the  advantages  of  a  government 
so  mixed  and  balanced.  It  was  in  a  great 
measure  the  result  of  the  efforts,  partially 
neutralizing  each  other,  of  men  who  leaned, 
some  of  them  towards  pure  Monarchy,  and 
others  towards  Republicanism.  And  again, 
though  no  one  can  doubt  how  great  an  ad- 
vance (it  is  as  yet  only  an  advance)  in  the 
principles  of  reb'gious  toleration,  and  of 
making  a  final  appeal  to  Scripture  alone,  is 
due  to  the  Reformation,  yet  the  Reformers 
were  slow  in  embracing  these  principles. 
They  were  at  first  nearly  as  much  disposed 
as  their  opponents  to  force  their  own  inter- 
pretations of  Scripture  on  every  one,  and  to 
call  in  the  Magistrate  to  suppress  heresy  by 
force.  But  not  being  able  to  agree  among 
themselves  whose  interpretation  of  Scripture 
should  be  received  as  authoritative,  and  who 
should  be  entrusted  with  the  Sword  that  was 
to  extirpate  heresy,  compromises  and  mutual 
concessions  gradually  led  more  and  more  to 
the  practical  adoption  of  principles  whose 


APPENDIX. 


theoretical  truth  and  justice  is.,  even  yet,  not 
universally  perceived. 

And  similar  instances  may  be  found  in 
every  part  of  history.  Without  entering  in  to 
a  detailed  examination  of  the  particular 
mode  in  which,  on  each  occasion,  a  superior 
party  is  influenced  by  those  opposed  to  them, 
— either  from  reluctance  to  drive  them  to 
desperation,  or  otherwise, — certain  it  is,  that 
looking  only  to  the  results, — the  practical 
working  of  any  Government, — in  the  long 
run  and  in  the  general  course  of  its  mea- 
sures,— we  do  find  something  corresponding 
to  the  composition  of  forces  in  Mechanics ; 
and  we  find  oftener  than  not,  that  the  course 
actually  pursued  is  better  (however  faulty) 
than  could  have  been  calculated  from  the 
character  of  the  greater  part  of  those  who 
administered  the  Government.  The  wisest 
and  most  moderate,  even  when  they  form 
but  a  small  minority,  are  often  enabled  amidst 
the  conflict  of  those  in  opposite  extremes,  to 
bring  about  decisions,  less  wise  and  Justin- 
deed  than  they  themselves  would  have  de- 
sired, but  far  better  than  those  of  either  of 
the  extreme  parties. 

The  above  views  are  the  more  important, 
because  any  one  who  does  not  embrace  them, 
will  be  likely,  on  contemplating  any  wise  in- 
stitution or  enactment  of  former  times,  to  be 
thrown  into  indolent  despondency,  if  he  find, 
as  he  often  will,  that  the  majority  of  those 
around  us  do  not  seem  to  come  up  to  the 
Standard  which  those  institutions  and  enact- 
ments appear  to  him  to  imply.  He  takes  for 
granted  that  the  whole  or  the  chief  part  of 
the  members  of  those  Assemblies,  &,c.,  in 
which  such  and  such  measures  were  car- 
ried, must  have  been  men  of  a  corresponding 
degree  of  good  sense,  and  moderation,  and 
public  spirit :  and  perceiving  as  he  thinks 
that  an  Assembly  of  such  men  could  not 
now  be  found,  he  concludes  that  wisdom 
and  goodness  (in  Governments  at  least) 
must  have  died  with  our  ancestors ;  or  at 
least  that  no  good  is  at  present  to  be  hoped 
from  any  Government.  And  yet  perhaps 
the  truth  will  be  that  the  greater  part  of  the 
very  Assemblies  whose  measures  he  is  ad- 
miring may  have  consisted  of  men  of  seve- 
ral parties,  each  of  which  would,  if  left  en- 
tirely to  itself,  have  made  a  much  worse  de- 
cision than  the  one  actually  adopted  ;  and 
that  one  may  have  been  such,  as,  though  not 
actually  to  coincide  with,  yet  most  nearly  to 
approach  to  the  opinions  of  the  wisest  and 
best  members  of  the  Assembly,  though 
those  may  have  been  but  a  small  minority.  ! 
And  it  may  be  therefore,  that  he  may  have 
around  him  the  materials  of  an  Assembly 
not  at  all  inferior  in  probity  or  intelligence  to 
that  which  he  is  contemplating  with  despair- 
ing admiration. 

To  apply  what  has  been  said  to  the  case 
now  before  us ;  it  does  seem  to  me  that  in  a 
Church  Government  established  on  any  tole- 
rably fair  and  natural  principles,  though  we 
must  calculate  on  such  imperfections  ns 
must  attend  every  thing  wherein  imperfect 


man  is  concerned,  there  would  be  no  reason 
to  apprehend  more  imperfections  than  the 
best  civil  Government  is  liable  to,  (which 
every  one  admits  to  be  on  the  whole  a  most 
important  benefit)  or  than  are  to  be  found  in 
the  Ecclesiastical  Government  of  the  Ame- 
rican Episcopalians  ;  which  though  admi- 
nistered by  fallible  mortals  like  ourselves,  is 
found,  on  the  whole,  to  work  very  satisfac- 
torily. 

To  expect  that  any  extreme  party  would 
exercise  such  uncontrolled  sway  as  materi- 
ally to  corrupt  or  subvert  the  Church,  would 
be  against  all  experience. 

Suppose  for  instance  that  the  principal 
legislative  power  of  some  Church  were 
lodged  in  some  Body  of  men  the  majority 
of  whom  were  attached,  more  or  less,  to 
two  or  more  Parties,  entertaining  extreme 
views :  one,  suppose,  leaning  a  good  deal 
towards  the  system  of  the  Greek  and  Romish 
Churches,  another  towards  that  of  the  Puri- 
tans, &c.  It  would  argue,  I  think,  great 
ignorance  of  the  lessons  of  History  to  con- 
clude that  one  or  other  of  these  Parties  must 
carry  out  their  own  views  in  the  most  un- 
mitigated excess,  and  that  the  only  question 
would  be,  which  of  the  Parties  would  suc- 
ceed in  completely  crushing  the  other,  and 
would  thenceforward  domineer  over,  and 
rigidly  coerce,  or  expel,  all  other  Members 
of  the  Church.  The  conclusion  warranted 
by  analogy  would,  I  think,  be,  that  the  op- 
posite extremes  would  temper  and  partially 
neutralize  each  other ; — that  the  moderate 
and  judicious  portion  of  the  Assembly,  and 
who  were  themselves  the  most  exempt  from 
party  bias,  would  persuade  the  least  im- 
moderate of  each  party  to  make  some 
concessions  for  the  sake  of  peace,  and  to 
forego  some  of  the  most  unreasonable  of  their 
requisitions  ; — that  these  mediators,  by  sup- 
porting what  was  wrong,  in  each  party  (for 
almost  every  party  has  something  of  each) 
would  go  a  good  way  towards  ultimately 
rejecting  the  worst  part,  and  retaining  the 
best  part,  of  each  proposal ; — and  that  the 
final  result  would  be,  that  many  points 
would  be  left  at  large,  which  would  have 
most  probably  been  determined  in  an  objec- 
tionable way  by  either  party  if  left  wholly 
unchecked  ;  and  that  other  points,  (such  as 
require  to  be  determined  one  way  or  another 
in  order  to  avoid  future  dissension)  would 
be  determined  on  wiser  and  better  principles 
than  the  greater  part  of  the  Assembly  would, 
in  the  first  instance,  have  adopted  ;  while 
an  opening  would  remain  for  continual  pro- 
gress in  the  removal  of  such  defects,  and 
the  adoption  of  such  improvements,  as  ex- 
perience and  reflection  might  point  out. 

Another  consideration  which  ought  not 
to  be  lost  sight  of  is  that  for  any  evils 
which  might  be  produced  through  the  fault 
of  Legislators,  those  Legislators  would  be  re- 
sponsible: while  for  the  evils  (not,  which 
may  arise,  but  which  are  actually  existing, 
notorious  and  grievous,)  caused  by  the  want 
of  a  Legislature,  every  Prelate,  every  Minis- 


APPENDIX.  93 

ter,  and  every  Member  of  the  Church  is  re-  Jthe  other  terms  alluded  to  are  understood  by 

sponsible  who  has  it  in  his  power  to  do  any  Hhem  in  a   sense   no  less   wide   from    the 

thing — much  or  little — towards  the  remedy  I  popular  acceptation. 

of  that  want,  and  neglects  to  do  his  utmost.        Both  parties  again  agree  in   deprecating 

all  employment  of  reasoning  in  matters  per- 
taining to"  religion  :  both  decry  the  historical 
evidence  of  Christianity,  and  discourage  as 
profane  all  appeal  to  evidence;  and  both 
disparage  Miracles  considered  as  a  proof  of 
the  divine  origin  of  Christianity,  alleging 
that  every  event  that  occurs  is  equally  a  mi- 
racle; meaning  therefore  exactly  what  in 
ordinary  language  would  be  expressed  by 
saying  that  nothing  is  miraculous. 

Other  coincidences  maybe  observed ;  such 
as  the  strong  desire  manifested  by  both  par- 
ties to  explain  away,  or  soften  down  the  line 
of  demarcation  between  what  ordinary 
Christians  call  the  Scriptures,  and  every 
thing  subsequent ;  between  what  we  call  the 
Christian  Revelation,  considered  as  an  his- 
torical transaction  recorded  in  the  new  Tes- 
tament; and  any  pretended  after  revelation, 
or  improvement,  or  completion,  or  perfect 
developement,  of  "  the  system  of  true  Reli- 
gion. To  Christianity  as  a  Revelation  com- 

of  coincidence  in  the  doctrine  divulged,  that  Dieted  in  our  sacred  books,  both  parties,  more 

or  less  openly,  according  to  circumstances, 


NOTE  (P.)     P.  73. 

IT  might  be  added  that,  among  those  who 
express  the  greatest  dread  and  detestation  of 
"German  Neology," — "German  Philoso- 
phy,"— the  "  daring  speculations  of  the 
Germans,"  &c.,  are  to  be  found  some  of 
that  class  of  Anglican  Divines,  whose  doc- 
trines apparently  correspond  the  most 
closely  (as  far  as  we  can  judge  respecting 
two  confessedly  mystic  schools)  with  those 
of  that  very  Neology.  The  very  circum- 
stance itself  that  both  are  schools  of  Mysti- 
cism,— that  both  parties  have  one  system 
for  the  mass  of  mankind,  and  another — 
whether  expressed  in  different  language  or 
in  the  same  words  understood  in  a  totally 
different  sense — for  the  initiated,  affords  a 
presumption,  when  there  are  some  points 


a  still  further  agreement  may  be  expected  in 


the  reserved  doctrines. 

As   the  advocates  of  reserve 


among  us 


speak  of  not  intending  to  inculcate  generally 
such  conclusions  as  a  logical  reasoner  will 
correctly  deduce  by  following  out  their 
principles,  and  again  speak  of  an  ordinary 
reader  being  likely  to  "  miss  their  real  mean- 
ing, by  not  being  aware  of  the  peculiar  sense 
in  which  they  employ  terms,"  so  those  Ger- 
man Transcendentalists  whom  I  allude  to, 
— whose  system  of  Theology — or  rather  of 
A  theology — is  little  else  than  a  new  edition  of 
the  Pantheism  of  the  ancient  Heathen  Philo- 
sophers, of  the  Brahmins,  and  the  Buddhists, 
— use  a  similar  double-meaning  language. 
They  profess  Christianity,  and  employ  pro- 
fusely such  terms  as  a  "  God,"  "  Faith," 
"  Incarnation,"  "Miracle,"  "Immortality," 
&c.,  attaching  to  these  words,  a  meaning 
quite  remote  from  what  is  commonly  under- 
stood by  them.  Their  "  God"  is  the  God 
of  Pantheism ;  not  a  personal  agent,  but  a 
certain  vital  principle  diffused  through  the 
Material  Universe,  and  of  which  every 
human  soul  is  a  portion ;  which  is  at  death 
to  be  reabsorbed  into  the  infinite  Spirit,  and 
become  just  what  it  was  before  birth,*  ex- 
actly according  to  the  ancient  system  of  phi- 


confess  their  objection. 

And  it  is  remarkable  that  even  the  vehe- 
ment censures  pronounced  by  one  of  these 
schools,  on  the  speculations  of  the  other,  is 
far  from  being  inconsistent  with  their  funda- 
mental agreement  in  principles.  For  of  the 
German  Neologists  themselves,  some  of  the 
leading  writers  strongly  condemn  the  rash- 
ness, with  which  some  conclusions  have 
been  openly  stated  by  others  of  the  same 
school,  and  confessedly  proceeding  on  prin- 
ciples fundamentally  the  same. 

If  any  one  therefore  who  belongs  to  a 
school  of  mystical  reserve,  should  be  sus- 
pected, in  consequence  of  a  remarkable 
agreement  between  some  of  his  acknow- 
ledged tenets  and  the  German  Neology,  of  a 
further  degree  of  secret  concurrence,  beyond, 
perhaps,  what  he  is  really  conscious  of,  he 
must  not  wonder  at,  or  complain  of  such 
suspicion  ;  nor  expect  at  once  to  repel  it  by 
the  strongest  censure  of  those  writers,  and 
professed  renunciation  of  their  doctrines; 
unless  he  can  also  make  up  his  mind  to  re- 
nounce likewise  the  system  of  a  "  Double 
doctrine"  altogether,  resolving,  and  pro- 
claiming his  resolution  to  speak  henceforth 
the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but 

losophy  described  by  Virgil :  "  Mens  agitat  j  the  truth,"  respecting  his  religious  tenets, 
molem  et  toto  se  corpore  miscet ;  Inde  |  and  foreswearing  totally  the  practice  of  em- 
hominum  pecudumque  genus,"  &,c.  And  ;  ploying  language  "in  a  peculiar  sense"  dif- 

. ' — !  ferent  from  what  is  ordinarily  understood 

*  See  Essay  1st,  First  Series.  l;by  it. 


THE   END. 


r.  tynsttfs  0ermon. 

"THE  HOIY  EUCHARIST  A  COMFORT  TO  THE  PENITENT." 


A  SERMOI 


PREACHED 


BEFORE    THE    UNIVERSITY, 


IN  THE  CATHEDRAL  CHURCH  OF  CHRIST,  IN  OXFORD,  ON  THE 
FOURTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER, 


BY  THB 


REV.  E-.  B.  PUSEY,  D.D., 

BEGIUS   PROFESSOR  OF   HEBREW,    CANON   OF   CHRIST   CHURCH,   AND   LATE   FELLOW    OP 
ORIEL   COLLEGE. 

FNE  W-YORK: 
ISHED  BY   HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  82  CLIFF-STREET. 
1843. 


"  THE  true  understanding  of  this  fruition  and  union  which  is  betwixt  the  body  and 
the  head,  betwixt  the  true  believers  and  Christ,  the  ancient  Catholic  Fathers  both  per- 
ceiving themselves,  and  commending  to  their  people,  were  not  afraid  to  call  this  Sup- 
per, some  of  them,  the  salve  of  immortality  and  sovereign  preservative  against  death ; 
other,  a  deifical  communion ;  other,  the  sweet  dainties  of  our  Saviour,  the  pledge  of 
eternal  health,  the  defence  of  faith,  the  hope  of  the  resurrection ;  other,  the  food  of 
immortality,  the  healthful  grace,  and  the  conservatory  to  everlasting  life.  All  which 
sayings  both  of  the  Holy  Scripture  and  godly  men,  truly  attributed  to  this  celestial 
banquet  and  feast,  if  we  would  often  call  to  mind,  O  how  would  they  inflame  our  hearts 
to  desire  the  participation  of  these  mysteries,  and  oftentimes  to  covet  after  this  bread, 
continually  to  thirst  for  this  food!" — Homilies,  1st  Part  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Sacrament, 


PREFACE. 


IT  is  with  pain  that  the  following  sermon  is 
published,  for  it  is  impossible  for  any  one  not 
to  foresee  one  portion  of  its  effects  ;  what  floods, 
namely,  of  blasphemy  against  holy  truth  will  be 
poured  forth  by  the  infidel,  or  heretical,  or  secu- 
lar and  anti-religious  papers,  with  which  our 
church  and  country  is  at  this  time  afflicted.  It 
is  like  casting,  with  one's  own  hands,  that  which 
is  most  sacred  to  be  outraged  and  profaned.  Still 
there  seem  to  be  higher  duties  which  require 
even  this.  The  Gospel  must  be  a  savour  unto 
life  or  savour  unto  death;  from  the  first,  it  has 
been  blasphemed  wherever  it  has  been  preached. 
It  has  been  blasphemed  by  Jews,  Pagans,  and 
each  class  of  heretics  as  they  arose  ;  the  Arians 
used  blasphemous  jests,  taught  the  people  blas- 
phemous ballads,  and  profaned  the  Holy  Eu- 
charist ;  increase  of  scoffers  and  blasphemers  are 
among  the  tokens  of  the  last  days ;  and  yet  the 
two  witnesses  are  to  bear  testimony,  though  in 
sackcloth.  The  more  the  truth  prevails,  the 
madder  must  the  world  become ;  the  blasphemies 
with  which  holy  truth  is  now  assailed,  are  but  a 
token  of  its  victories. 

The  first  duty  of  a  minister  of  Christ  is  to  His 
little  ones  ;  for  their  sakes,  lest  any  be  perplexed 
in  consequence  of  all  which  has  been  lately  said, 
this  sermon  is  published,  and  for  them  the  fol- 
lowing explanation  is  intended. 

Nothing,  throughout  the  whole  sermon,  was 
farther  from  my  thoughts  than  controversy.  I 
had,  on  such  occasions  as  my  office  afforded, 
commenced  a  course  of  sermons  on  the  comforts 
provided  by  the  Gospel  for  the  penitent  amid  the 
consciousness  of  sin,  with  the  view  to  meet  the 
charge  of  sternness,  involved  by  the  exhibition 
of  one  side  of  Catholic  truth;  in  this  course,  the 
sacred  subject  of  the  Holy  Eucharist;  of  necessi- 
ty, came  in  its  order;  and  it  was  my  wish  ^how- 
ever I  may  have  been  hindered  by  sudden  indis- 
position from  developing  my  meaning  as  I  wish- 
ed) to  point  out  its  comforting  character  to  the 
penitent  in  two  ways ;  1st,  indirectly,  because 
it  is  the  Body  and  Blood  of  his  Lord,  and  is  the 
channel  of  His  Blessed  Presence  to  the  soul; 
2dly,  because  in  Holy  Scripture  the  mention  of 
remission  of  sins  is  connected  with  it. 

In  essaying  to  teach  this,  I  could  not  but  forget 
controversy ;  having,  in  the  commencement, 
warned  against  irreverent  disputings,  I  lived  for 
the  time  in  Holy  Scripture  and  its  deepest  expos- 
itors, the  Fathers,  and  was  careful  to  use  rather 
their  language  than  my  own,  lest,  on  so  high  a 
subject.  1  should  seem  to  speak  over-boldly.  Con- 
scious of  my  own  entire  adherence  to  the  formu- 
laries of  my  Church,  and  having  repeatedly  ex- 
pressed myself  on  this  subject,  and  in  the  very 
outset  of  this  Sermon  conveyed  at  once,  that  I 
believed  the  elements  to  "  remain  in  their  nat- 
ural substances,"  and  that  I  did  not  attempt  to 
define  the  mo.'le  of  the  Mystery  that  they  were 
also  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,  I  had  no  fear 
of  being  misunderstood. 


Once  more  to  repeat  my  meaning,  in  order  to 
relieve  any  difficulties  which  migtit  (if  so  be) 
be  entertained  by  pious  minds,  trained  in  an  op- 
posed and  defective  system  of  teaching,  before 
whom  the  Sermon  may  now  be  brought.  My 
own  views  were  cast  (so  to  speak)  in  the  mould 
of  the  minds  of  Bp.  Andrews  and  Abp.  Bram- 
hall,  which  I  regarded  as  the  type  of  the  teach- 
ing of  our  Church.  From  them  originally,  and 
with  them,  I  learned  to  receive  in  their  literal 
sense,  our  Blessed  Lord's  solemn  words,  "  This 
is  my  Body,"  and  from  them,  while  I  believe  the 
consecrated  elements  to  become,  by  virtue  of  His 
consecrating  Words,  truly  and  really,  yet  spirit- 
ually and  in  an  ineffable  way,  His  Body  and 
Blood,  I  learned  also  to  withhold  my  thoughts 
as  to  the  mode  of  this  great  Mystery,  but  "  as 
a  Mystery,"  to  "  adore  it."  With  the  Fathers, 
then,  and  our  own  great  Divines  (explaining,  as 
1  believe,  the  true  meaning  of  our  Church,*)  I 
could  not  but  speak  of  the  consecrated  elements 
as  being,  what,  since  He  has  so  called  them,  I 
believe  them  to  become,  His  Body  and  Blood; 
and  I  feared  not,  that,  using  their  language,  I 
should,  when  speaking  of  Divine  and  "spirit- 
ual" things,  be  thought  to  mean  otherwise  than 
"spiritually,"  or  having  disclaimed  all  thoughts 
as  to  the  mode  of  their  being,  that  any  should 
suppose  I  meant  a  'mode  which  our  Church  dis- 
allows. 

It  remains  only  to  say,  that  the  notes  (with  a 
few  exceptions)  are  such  as,  amid  hurry  and  se- 
vere indisposition,  I  could,  when  my  sermon 
was  demanded,  put  together,  with  the  view  at 
once  of  showing  those  who  were  to  pronounce 
upon  it,  that  I  had  not  used  high  language,  of 
my  own  mind,  and  that  they  might  not  uncon- 
sciously blame  the  Fathers,  while  they  thought 
they  were  blaming  myself  only.  They  spread 
over  the  wider  space,  because,  wholly  uncon- 
scious what  could  be  objected  to,  I  was  reduced 
to  conjecture  what  it  might  be. 

The  Appendix  is  now  drawn  up  by  a  friend 
(the  writer  being  disabled),  with  the  same  view, 
that  some  might  be  saved  from  objecting  to  what, 
though  often  taught,  may  be  new  to  them,  when 
they  see  that  the  same,  or  things  much  stronger, 
have  been  taught  by  a  series  of  Divines  in  our 
Church.  It  is  not  meant  that  some  of  these  wri- 


*  As  shown  by  the  use  of  the  ancient  words,  "The  Body 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ"  (rejected  in  Edw.  VI.,  2d  Book), 
the  Rubric  for  "  the  reverent  eating  and  drinking"  of  the 
consecrated  elements  which  remain,  and  the  Article,  which, 
while  declaring-  that  "  the  Body  of  Christ  is  given,  taken, 
and  eaten  in  the  Supper,  only  after  a  spiritual  and  heaven- 
ly manner,"  by  the  use  of  the  words  "  given"  and  "  taken," 
shows  that  it  calls  That  ''  the  Body  of  Christ"  which  is 
"given"  by  the  minister,  "taken" "by  the  people.  (See 
Knox's  Remains,  ii..  p.  170.)  In  like  way,  the  Catechism 
teaches  that  "  The  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  are  verily  and 
indeed  taken  and  received  of  the  faithful,  in  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per." Tne  very  strength  of  the  words  of  the  Rubric  deny- 
ing "  the  Corporeal  presence  of  Christ's  natural  Flesh  and 
Blood"  in  itself  implies  (as  we  know  by  those  who  inserted 
that  Rubric)  that  they  believed  everything  short  of  this. 


iv 


PREFACE. 


ters  (e.  g.  Mede)  are  always  consistent  with 
themselves;  it  is  meant  only  to  show  what  has 
been  taught,  partly  without  rebuke,  partly  with 
authority,  in  our  later  English  Church.  Nor  has 
it  been  the  object  to  select  the  strongest  passages 
of  our  writers ;  on  the  Contrary,  some  stronger 
than  any  here  quoted  have  been  purposely  passed 
by,  out  of  a  writer  so  universally  received  as  G. 
Herbert.*  The  general  tone  of  doctrine  has 
been  the  object  chiefly  had  in  view  in  the  selec- 
tion. Some  of  the  materials  of  the  Catena  have 
been  already  used  in  previous  explanations  on 
the  doctrine.t 

Passages  or  phrases,  here  and  there,  in  the 
Sermon,  were,  on  account  of  the  length  of  the 
whole,  omitted  in  the  delivery;  they  were  insert- 
ed in  the  copy  called  for,  in  brackets,  as  making 
the  whole  more  authentic;  these  distinctions  are 
now  omitted,  as  needlessly  distracting  such  as 
may  read  for  edification,  since  in  one  instance 
only  did  the  passages  so  omitted  contain  doc- 
trine, viz.,  the  words  from  the  fathers  from  "  and 
by  commingling"  to  "  Divine  Nature." 

And  now,  may  God  have  mercy  on  this  His 
Church  !  It  is  impossible  not  to  see  that  a  contro- 
versy has  been  awakened,  which  from  the  very 
sacredness  of  the  subject  and  the  vagueness  of 


*  Both  in  his  Poems  and  in  his  Country  Parson,which  forms 
part  of  the  Clergyman's  Instructor,  a  work  printed  by  the 
University,  and  recommended  by  Bishops  to  candidates  for 
ordination. 

t  Tracts,  No.  81  ;  Mr.  Newman's  "  Letter  to  Dr.  Faus- 
set ';"  Bishop  of  Exeter's  Charge  ;  my  "  Letter  to  Dr.  Jelf ;" 
"  the  Doctrine  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  England  on  the 
Holy  Eucharist." 


the  views  of  many,  and  the  irreverence  of  the 
age,  one  should,  of  all  others,  most  have  depre- 
cated. Yet  things  are  in  His  hands,  not  in 
man's;  and  He,  Who  has  so  mercifully  over- 
ruled every  trial  and  every  strife  hitherto,  to  the 
greater  good  of  this  His  Church,  will,  we  doubt 
not,  if  we  obtain  from  Him  patient  hearts,  so  over- 
rule this  also.  And,  if,  since  I  can  now  speak 
in  no  other  manner,  I  may,  in  this  way,  utter 
one  word  to  the  young,  to  whom  I  have  hereto- 
fore spoken  from  a  more  solemn  place,  1  would 
remind  them,  how,  almost  prophetically,  sixteen 
years  ago,  in  the  volume,  which  was  the  un- 
known dawn  and  harbinger  of  the  re-awakening 
of  deeper  truth,  this  was  given  as  the  watchword 
to  those  who  should  love  the  truth,  "  In  *  quiet- 
ness and  confidence  shall  be  your  strength." 
There  have  been  manifold  tokens,  that  patience 
is  one  great  grace  which  God  is  now  calling  forth 
in  our  Church.  "The  wrath  of  man  worketh 
not  the  righteousness  of  God."  Sore,  then,  though 
it  be  to  see,  as  we  must  see,  the  truth  of  God  cast 
out,  and  spoken  against,  and  trodden  under  foot 
of  many,  they  who  love  it.  may  well  be  patient, 
when  He,  Whose  truth  it  is,  bears  so  patiently  with 
us  all;  sure,  that  even  when  it  seems  to  be  tram- 
pled upon,  it  will  thereby  but  sink  the  deeper  into 
the  "good  ground"  of  the  "honest  and  good 
heart,"  thence  to  spring  up  multiplied,  in  His 
good  time,  "  thirty,  sixty,  and  hundred  fold." 

Christ  Church, 
Ember  Week,  after  Feast  of  Pentecost,  1843. 

*  Is.,  xxx.,  27.    Motto  to  "  The  Christian  Year,"  1827. 


THE    SERMON. 


MATT.,  xxvi.,  28.— This  is  my  blood  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, which  is  shed  for  many,  for  the  remission  of  sins. 

IT  is  part  of  the  manifold  wisdom  of  God, 
that  his  gifts,  in  nature  and  in  grace,  min- 
ister to  distinct,  and,  as  it  often  seems,  to 
unconnected  ends  ;  manifesting  thereby  the 
more  his  own  unity,  as  the  secret  power 
of  ail  things,  putting  itself  forward  in  vari- 
ed forms  and  divers  manners,  yet  itself  the 
one  cause  of  all  that  is.  The  element 
which  is  the  image  of  our  baptism  cleanses 
alike  and  refreshes,  enlightening  the  faint- 
ing eye,  wakens  to  life,  as  it  falls,  a  world 
in  seeming  exhaustion  and  death,  changes 
the  barren  land  into  a  garden  of  the  Lord, 
gives  health,  and  nourishment,  and  growth. 
And  if  in  nature,  much  more  in  the  gifts  of 
grace.  For  therein  God,  not  by  Will,  or  by 
Power  only,  but  by  Himself  and  the  efflu- 
ence of  his  Spirit,  is  the  life  of  all  which 
lives  through  Him.  Our  one  Lord  is  to  us, 
in  varied  forms,  all,  yea,  more  than  all  His 
disciples  dare  ask  or  think.  All  are  His 
Life,  flowing  through  all  His  members,  and 
in  all,  as  it  is  admitted,  effacing  death,  en- 
larging life.  As  blind,  he  is  our  Wisdom; 
as  sinful,  our  Righteousness;  as  hallowed, 
our  Sanctification ;  as  recovered  from  Sa- 
tan, our  Redemption;  as  sick,  our  Physi- 
cian ;  as  weak,  our  Strength  ;  as  unclean, 
our  Fountain  ;  as  darkness,  our  Light ;  as 
daily  fainting,  our  daily  Bread ;  as  dying, 
Life  Eternal ;  as  asleep  in  Him,  our  Resur- 
rection. 

It  is,  then,  according  to  the  analogy  of 
His  other  gifts,  that  His  two  great  Sacra- 
nients  have  in  themselves  manifold  gifts. 
Baptism  containeth  not  only  remission  of 
sin  actual  or  original,  but  maketh  members 
of  Christ,  children  of  God,  heirs  of  heaven, 
hath  the  seal  and  earnest  of  the  Spirit,  the 
germ  of  spiritual  life;  the  Holy  Eucharist 
imparteth  not  life  only,  spiritual  strength, 
and  oneness  with  Christ,  and  His  Indwell- 
ing, and  participation  of  him,  but,  in  its  de- 
gree, remission  of  sins  also.  As  the  man- 
na is  said  to  have  "  contented  every  man's 
delight,  and  agreed  to  every  taste,"  (1)  so 
He,  the  Heavenly  Manna,  becometh  to  ev- 
ery man  what  he  needeth,  and  what  he  can 
receive  ;  to  the  penitent,  perhaps,  chiefly 
remission  of  sins  and  continued  life,  to 
those  who  have  "  loved  Him  and  kept  His 
word,"  His  own  transporting,  irradiating 
Presence,  full  of  His  own  grace,  and  life, 
and  love ;  yet  to  each  full  contentment,  be- 
cause to  each  His  own  overflowing,  unde- 
served goodness. 


Having  then,  on  former  occasions,  spo- 
ten  of  the  Fountain  of  all  comfort,  our  Re- 
deeming Lord,  His  Life,  for  us,  and  Inter- 
cession with  the  Father,  as  the  penitent's 
stay  amid  the  overwhelming  consciousness 
of  his  sins,  it  may  well  suit,  in  this  our 
season  of  deepest  joy,  to  speak  of  that, 
which,  flowing  from  the  throne  of  the  Lamb 
which  was  slain,  is  to  the  penitent  the  deep- 
est river  of  his  joy,  the  Holy  Mysteries ; 
from  which,  as  from  Paradise,  he  feels  that 
he  deserves  to  be  shut  out — from  which 
perhaps,  in  the  holier  discipline  of  the  An- 
cient Church,  he  would  have  been  for  a 
time  removed,  but  which  to  his  soul  must 
be  the  more  exceedingly  precious,  because 
they  are  the  Body  and  Blood  of  his  Re- 
deemer. While  others  joy  with  a  more 
Angelic  joy,  as  feeding  on  Him,  who  is  the 
Angels'  food,  and  **  sits,"  as  St.  Chrysos- 
tom  (2)  says,  "  with  Angels  and  Archan- 
gels and  heavenly  powers,  clad  with  the 
kingly  robe  of  Christ  itself,  yea,  clad  with 
the  King  Himself,  and  having  spiritual  ar- 
mory," he  may  be  the  object  of  the  joy 
of  Angels  ;  and  while  as  a  penitent  he  ap- 
proaches as  to  the  Redeemer's  side,  he  may 
hope  that  having  so  been  brought,  he,  with 
the  penitent,  shall  not  be  parted  from  It, 
but  be  with  Him  and  near  Him  in  Paradise. 
"  To  the  holier,"  says  another  (3),  "  He  is 
more  precious  as  God ;  to  the  sinner  more 
precious  is  the  Redeemer.  Of  higher  val- 
ue and  avail  is  He  to  him,  who  hath  more 
grace  ;  yet  to  him  also  to  whom  much  is 
forgiven,  doth  He  the  more  avail,  because 
"  to  whom  much  is  forgiven,  he  loveth 
much." 

Would  that  in  the  deep  joy  of  this  our 
Easter  festival,  the  pledge  of  our  sealed 
forgiveness,  and  the  earnest  of  endless  life 
in  God,  we  could,  for  His  sake  by  Whom 
we  have  been  redeemed,  lay  aside  our  wea- 
risome strifes,  and  that  to  speak  of  the 
rnysteries  of  Divine  love  might  not  become 
the  occasion  of  unloving  and  irreverent  dis- 
putings.  Would  that,  at  least  in  this  sa- 
cred place,  we  could  dwell  in  thought  to- 
gether, on  His  endless  condescension  and 
loving-kindness,  without  weighing  in  our 
own  measures  words  which  must  feebly 
convey  Divine  mysteries  ;  rather  intent  (as 
so  many  in  this  day  seem)  on  detecting 
that  others  have  spoken  too  strongly  on. 
that  which  is  unfathomable,  than  on  our- 
selves adoring  that  Love,  which  is  past 
finding  out.  "  When  we  speak  of  spiritual 
things,"  is  St.  Chrysostom's  (4)  warning, 


DR.   PUSEY'S   SERMON 


on  approaching  this  same  subject,  "  be 
there  nothing  of  this  life,  nothing  earthly 
in  our  thoughts;  let  all  such  things  depart 
and  be  cast  out,  and  be  wholly  given  to  the 
hearing  of  the  Divine  Word.  When  the 
Spirit  discourseth  to  us,  we  should  listen 
with  much  stillness,  yea,  with  much  awe. 
For  the  things  this  day  read  are  worthy  of 
awe.  '  Except  ye  eat  the  Flesh  of  the  Son 
of  Man  and  drink  His  Blood,  ye  have  no 
life  in  you.' " 

The  penitent's  joy,  then,  in  the  Holy  Eu- 
charist is  not  the  less  deep,  because  the 
pardon  of  sins  is  not,  as  in  Baptism,  its  di- 
rect provision.  The  two  great  Sacraments, 
as  their  very  signs  show,  have  not  the  same 
end.  Baptism  gives  ;  the  Holy  Eucharist 
preserves  and  enlarges  life.  Baptism  en- 
graffs  into  the  true  Vine  ;  the  Holy  Eu- 
charist derives  the  richness  and  fullness  of 
His  life  into  the  branches  thus  engraffed. 
Baptism  buries  in  Christ's  tomb,  and 
through  it  He  quickens  with  His  life  ;  the 
Holy  Eucharist  is  given  not  to  the  dead, 
but  to  the  living.  It  augments  life,  or — 
death  ;  gives  immortality  to  the  living  ;  to 
the  dead  it  gives  not  life,  but  death ;  it  is  a 
saviour  of  life  or  death,  is  received  to  sal- 
vation or  damnation.  Whence  the  ancient 
Church  so  anxiously  withheld  from  it  such 
as  sinned  grievously,  not  as  an  example 
only  to  others,  but  in  tenderness  to  them- 
selves, lest  they  break  through  and  perish  ; 
"  profane,"  says  St.  Cyprian  (5),  "  the  Holy 
Body  of  the  Lord,"  not  themselves  be  sanc- 
tified; fall  deeper,  not  be  restored;  be 
wounded  more  grievously,  not  be  healed  ; 
since  it  is  said,  he  adds,  "  Whoso  eateth 
the  Bread  anddrinketh  the  Cup  of  the  Lord 
unworthily,  is  guilty  of  the  Body  and  Blood 
of  the  Lord." 

The  chief  object,  then,  of  the  Holy  Eu- 
charist, so  conveyed  by  type  or  prophecy, 
by  the  very  elements  chosen,  or  by  the 
words  of  our  Lord,  is  the  support  and  en- 
largement of  life,  and  that  in  Him.  In 
type  (6),  the  tree  of  life  was  within  the 
Paradise  of  God,  given  as  a  nourishment 
of  immortality,  withheld  from  Adam  when 
he  sinned :  the  bread  and  wine,  wherewith 
Melchizedeck  met  Abraham,  were  to  re- 
fresh the  father  of  the  faithful,  the  weary 
warrior  of  God ;  the  Paschal  Lamb  was  a 
commemorative  sacrifice;  the  saving  blood 
had  been  shed  ;  it  was  to  be  eaten  with  the 
unleavened  bread  of  sincerity  and  truth, 
and  with  bitter  herbs  the  type  of  mortifica- 
tion, and  by  those  only  who  are  undefiled. 
The  Manna  was  given  to  them  after  they 
had  passed  the  Red  Sea,  the  image  of 
cleansing  Baptism,  and,  as  he  himself  in- 
terprets it,  represented  Him  as  coining 
down  from  heaven  to  give  life  unto  the 
world,  the  food  of  Angels  and  the  holy 
hosts  of  heaven;  The  Shew-bread  was 
eaten  only  by  those  hallowed  to  the  Priest- 
hood, (as  the  whole  Christian  people  has 


in  this  sense  been  made  kings  and  priest*), 
and  when  once  given  to  David  and  those 
that  were  with  him,  still  on  the  ground 
that  the  "vessels  of  the  young  men  were 
holy  (7)."  The  Angel  brought  the  cake  to 
Elijah,  that  in  the  strength  of  that  food  he 
might  go  forty  days  and  forty  nights  unto 
the  Mount  of  God.  In  verbal  prophecy,  it 
is  foretold  under  the  images  of  the  very 
elements,  and  so  of  strengthening  and  over- 
flowing joy,  "  Wisdom,"  that  is,  He  Who 
is  the  Wisdom  of  God,  in  a  parable  corre- 
sponding to  that  of  the  marriage-feast, 
crieth,  "  Come,  eat  of  My  bread  and  drink 
of  the  wine  I  have  mingled."  Or,  in  the 
very  Psalm  of  his  Passion  and  atoning  Sac- 
rifice, it  is  foretold,  that  "  the  poor  shall 
eat  and  be  satisfied  :"  or  that  He,  the  good 
Shepherd,  shall  prepare  a  Table  for  those 
whom  He  leadeth  by  the  still  waters  of  the 
Church,  and  giveth  them  the  Cup  of  over- 
flowing joy  ;"  or  as  the  source  of  gladness, 
"  Thou  hast  put  gladness  into  my  heart, 
since  the  time  that  their  corn,  and  wine, 
and  oil  (the  emblem  of  the  Spirit  of  which 
the  faithful  drink)  increased,"  and  "  the 
wine  which  gladdeneth  man's  heart,  and 
the  oil  which  rnaketh  his  face  to  shine,  and 
bread  which  strengthened!  man's  heart ;" 
or  of  spiritual  growth,  "corn  and  wine 
shall  make  the  young  men  and  maidens  of 
Zion  to  grow ;  or  as  that  which  alone  is 
satisfying,  buy  wine  without  money  and 
without  price,"  for  that  "  which  is  not 
bread  ;"  or  as  the  special  Gift  to  the  faith- 
ful, "  He  hath  given  meat  unto  them  that 
fear  him  ;"  or  that  which,  after  his  Passion', 
He  drinketh  anew  with  His  disciples  in  His 
Father's  kingdom,  '•  I  have  gathered  my 
myrrh,  I  have  drunk  my  wine  with  my 
milk ;  eat,  O  friends ;  drink,  yea,  drink 
abundantly,  O  beloved." 

In  all  these  varied  symbols,  strength,  re- 
newed life,  growth,  refreshment,  gladness, 
likeness  to  the  Angels,  immortality  are  the 
gifts  set  forth ;  they  are  gifts  as  to  the  Re- 
deemed of  the  Lord  placed  anew  in  the 
Paradise  of  his  Church,  admitted  to  His 
Sanctuary,  joying  in  His  Presence,  grow- 
ing before  Him,  filled  with  the  river  of  His 
joy,  feasting  with  Him,  yea,  Himself  feast- 
ing in  them,  as  in  them  He  hungereth  (8). 
Hitherto,  there  is  in  allusion  to  sin ;  it  is 
what  the  Church  should  be,  walking  in  the 
brightness  of  His  light,  and  itself  reflecting 
that  brightness. 

And  when  our  Lord  most  largely  and  di- 
rectly is  setting  forth  the  fruits  of  eating 
His  Flesh  and  drinking  His  Blood,  He 
speaks  throughout  of  one  Gift,  life  ;  free- 
dom from  death,  life  through  Him,  through 
His  indwelling,  and  therefore  resurrection 
from  the  dead,  and  life  eternal.  "  This  is 
the  Bread,  which  corneth  down  from  heav- 
en, that  a  man  may  eat  thereof  and  not  die. 
If  any  man  eat  of  this  Bread,  he  shall  live 
for  ever ;  and  the  Bread  that  I  will  give  ia 


ON  THE   EUCHARIST. 


My  Flesh,  which  I  will  give  for  the  life  of 
the  world."  "  Except  ye  eat  the  Flesh  of 
the  Son  of  man,  and  drink  His  Blood,  ye 
have  no  life  in  you."  "  Whoso  eateth  my 
Flesh  and  drinketh  my  Blood  hath  eternal 
life,  and  I  will  raise  him  up  at  the  last 
Day."  He  that  eateth  My  Flesh  and  drink- 
eth My  Blood  dwelleth  in  Me  and  I  in 
him."  "As  the  Living  Father  hath  sent 
Me,  and  I  live  by  the  Father,  so  he  that 
eateth  Me,  he  also  shall  live  by  Me."  "  He 
that  eateth  of  this  Bread  shall  live  for 
ever."  No  one  can  observe  how  this  whole 
discourse  circleth  round  this  gift  of  life,  and 
how  our  Lord,  with  unwearied  patience, 
bringeth  this  one  truth  before  us  in  so 
many  different  forms,  without  feeling  that 
He  means  to  inculcate,  that  life  in  Him  is 
His  chief  gift  in  his  Sacrament,  and  to 
make  a  reverent  longing  for  it  an  incen- 
tive to  our  faith.  Yet,  although  life  in 
Him  is  the  substance  of  His  whole  teach- 
ing, the  teaching  itself  is  manifold.  Our 
Lord  inculcates  not  one  truth  only  in  va- 
ried forms,  but  in  its  different  bearings. 
He  answers  not  the  strivings  of  the  Jews, 
"how  can  this  man  give  us  his  flesh  to 
eat?"  Such  an  "How  can  these  things 
be  1"  he  never  ansvvereth  ;  and  we,  if  we 
are  wise,  shall  never  ask  how  (9)  they  can 
be  elements  of  this  world  and  yet  His  very 
Body  and  Blood.  But  how  they  give  life 
to  us  he  does  answer ;  and  amid  this  ap- 
parent uniformity  of  His  teaching,  each 
separate  sentence  gives  us  a  portion  of  that 
answer.  And  the  teaching  of  the  whole, 
as  far  as  such  as  we  may  grasp  it,  is  this. 
That  He  (10)  is  the  Living  Bread,  because 
He  came  down  from  Heaven,  and  as  being 
one  God  with  the  Father,  hath  life  in  Him- 
self, even  as  the  Father  hath  life  in  Him- 
self; the  life  then  which  He  is  He  impart- 
ed to  that  Flesh  which  He  took  into  Him- 
self, yea,  which  He  took  so  wholly,  that 
Holy  Scripture  says,  He  became  it,  "  the 
Word  became  Flesh,"  and  since  it  is  thus 
a  part  of  Himself,  "  Whoso  eateth  My 
Flesh  and  drinketh  My  Blood,1'  (He  Him- 
self says  the  amazing  words,)  "  eateth  Me," 
and  so  receiveth  into  Himself  in  an  effable 
manner  his  Lord  Himself,  "  dwelleth,"  (oru 
Lord  says)  "  in  Me  and  I  in  him,"  and  hav- 
ing Christ  within  him  (11),  not  only  shall 
he  have,  but  he  "  hath"  already  "eternal 
Life,"  because  he  hath  Him  who  is  "the 
Only  True  God  and  Eternal  Life  (12)  ;" 
and  so  Christ  "  will  raise  him  up  at  the  last 
Day,"  because  he  hath  His  life  in  him. 
Receiving  Him  into  this  very  body  (13), 
they  who  are  His  receive  life,  which  shall 
pass  over  to  our  very  decaying  flesh  ;  they 
have  within  them  Him  who  is  Life  and  Im- 
mortality and  Incorruption,  to  cast  out  or 
absorb  into  itself  our  natural  mortality, 
and  death,  and  corruption,  and  shall  "  live 
for  ever,"  because  made  one  with  Him 
Who  Alone  "  liveth  for  evermore."  It  is 


not  then  life  only  as  an  outward  gift  to  be 
possessed  by  us,  as  His  gift ;  it  is  no  mere 
strengthening  and  refreshing  of  our  souls, 
by  the  renewal  (14)  and  confirming  our 
wills  and  invigorating  of  our  moral  nature, 
giving  us  more  fixedness  of  purpose,  or  im- 
planting in  us  Christian  graces ;  it  is  no 
gift,  such  as  we  might  imagine  gives  to  the 
most  perfect  of  God's  created  beings  in 
himself.  Picture  we  the  most  perfect  wis- 
dom, knowledge,  strength,  harmony,  pro- 
portion, brightness,  beauty,  fitness,  com- 
pleteness of  created  being;  fair  as  was 
that  angel  "  in  the  garden  of  God"  before 
he  fell;  "the  seal  of  comeliness,  full  of 
wisdom,  and  complete  in  beauty — perfect 
in  his  ways  from  the  day  he  was  created 
(15)."  Yet  let  this  be  a  perfection,  upheld, 
indeed,  of  God,  yet  external  to  Him,  as  a 
mere  creation,  and  it  would  fall  unuttera- 
ably  short  of  the  depth  of  the  mystery  of 
the  Sacraments  of  Christ,  and  the  gift,  the 
germ  whereof  is  therein  contained  for  us  ; 
although  such  as  we  actuaily  are,  we  know 
that,  for  strength  we  have  weakness,  for 
knowledge  ignorance,  our  nature  jarring 
still,  disharmonized,  obscured,  deformed, 
both  by  the  remains  of  original  corruption 
and  our  own  superadded  sins.  For  the  life 
therein  bestowed  is  greater  than  any  gift, 
since  it  is  life  in  Christ,  life  through  His 
indwelling,  Himself  Who  is  Life.  And 
Holy  Scripture  hints  that  the  blessed  An- 
gels, who  never  fell,  shall,  in  some  way 
to  us  unknown,  gain  by  the  mystery  of 
the  Incarnation,  being  with  us  gathered 
together  under  One  Head,  our  Incarnate 
Lord  into  His  One  Body  (16)  ;  the  ful- 
ness of  Him  who  filleth  all  in  all.  Cer- 
tainly, Scripture  seems  to  imply,  that,  al- 
though he  "  took  not  the  nature  of  angels," 
but  "of  man,"  yet  all  created  beings, 
"  thrones,  and  dominions,  and  principalities, 
and  powers,"  shall,  if  one  may  reverently 
say  it,  be  more  filled  with  God,  when,  this 
His  body  being  perfected,  there  shall  be  no 
check  or  hinderance  to  the  full  effluence  of 
His  Divine  Nature,  circulating  through  the 
whole  Body,  into  which  He  shall  have 
"  knit  things  in  heaven  and  things  in  earth," 
"  the  innumerable  company  of  the  Angels," 
and  "  the  just  made  perfect ;"  and  the  whole 
glorified  Church  shall  be  clothed  and  ra- 
diant with  Him,  the  Sun  of  Righteousness. 
And  of  this  we  have  the  germs  and  first 
beginnings  now.  This  is  (if  we  may  rev- 
erently so  speak)  the  order  of  the  mystery 
of  the  Incarnation,  (17)  that  the  Eternal 
Word  so  took  our  flesh  into  Himself,  as  to 
impart  to  it  His  own  inherent  life  ;  so  the  i 
we,  partaking  of  It,  that  life  is  transmitted 
on  to  us  also,  and  not  to  our  souls  only, 
but  our  bodies  (18)  also,  since  we  become 
flesh  of  His  flesh,  and  bone  of  His  bone, 
(19)  and  He  Who  is  wholly  life  is  imparted 
tons  wholly. (20)  The  Life  which  He  is, 
spreads  around,  first  giving  Its  own  vitality 


8 


DR.   PUSEY'S    SERMON 


to  that  sinless  Flesh  which  He  united  in- 
dissolubly  with  Himself,  and  in  it  encircling 
and  vivifying  our  whole  nature,  and  then, 
through  trial  bread  which  is  His  Flesh,  find- 
ing an  entrance  to  us  individually,  pene- 
trating us,  soul  and  body,  and  spirit,  and 
irradiating  and  transforming  into  His  own 
light  and  life.  In  the  words  of  a  father 
(21)  who  in  warfare  with  the  Nestorian 
heresy  lived  in  the  mystery  of  the  Incar- 
nation, "  He  is  life  by  nature,  inasmuch 
as  He  was  begotten  of  the  Living  Father; 
but  no  less  vivifying  also  is  His  Holy  Body, 
being  in  a  matter  brought  together  (awrjve-y- 
HEVOV)  and  ineffably  united  with  the  all- vivi- 
fying Word;  wherefore  It  is  accounted 
His,  and  is  conceived  as  one  with  Him. 
For,  since  the  Incarnation,  it  is  inseparable ; 
save  that  we  know  that  the  Word  which 
came  from  God  the  Father,  and  the  Tem- 
ple from  the  Virgin,  are  not  indeed  the 
same  in  nature ;  for  the  Body  is  not  con- 
substantial  with  the  Word  from  God,  yet 
is  one  by  that  ineffable  coming-together 
and  concurrence ;  and  since  the  Flesh  of 
the  Saviour  became  life-giving,  as  being 
united  to  That  which  is  by  nature  Life, 
The  Word  from  God,  then,  when  we  taste 
It,  we  have  life  in  ourselves,  we  too  being 
united  with  It,  as  It  to  the  indwelling 
Word."  "  I  then,  (22)  He  saith,  being  in 
him  will  by  Mine  own  Flesh  raise  up  him 
who  eateth  thereof,  in  the  last  day.  For 
since  Christ  is  in  us  by  His  own  Flesh,  we 
must  altogether  rise,  for  it  were  incredible, 
yea,  rather,  impossible,  that  Life  should 
not  make  alive  those  in  whom  It  is."  To 
add  the  words  of  one  father  only  of  the 
Western  Church,  ever  had  in  honour,  as 
well  for  his  sufferings  for  the  faith,  as  for 
his  well-weighed  and  reverent  language, 
S.  Hilary  (23)  adduced  the  very  actualness 
of  this  union  in  proof  against  the  Arians, 
that  the  Unity  of  the  Father  and  the  Son, 
was  not  of  will,  but  of  nature,  because  our 
union  with  the  Son  is  by  unity  of  nature, 
not  of  harmony  of  will  only.  "  For  if  the 
Word  was  truly  made  Flesh,  and  we,  in 
the  Supper  of  the  Lord,  truly  receive  the 
Word,  being  Flesh,  how  must  He  not  be 
thought  to  abide  in  us,  by  the  way  of  na- 
ture, Who,  being  born  man,  took  to  Him- 
self the  nature  of  our  flesh,  now  insepara- 
ble from  Him,  and  under  the  Sacrament  of 
the  Flesh  which  is  to  be  communicated  to 
us,  hath  mingled  the  nature  of  His  own 
Flesh  with  His  eternal  nature.  So  then, 
\ve  are  all  one,  because  both  the  Father  is  in 
Christ,  and  Christ  in  us.  Whosoever  then 
shall  deny  that  the  Father  is  in  Christ  by 
way  of  nature,  let  him  first  deny  that  him- 
self is  by  way  of  nature  in  Christ  or  Christ 
in  Him;  because  the  Father  in  Christ  and 
Christ  in  us,  make  us  to  be  one  in  them. 
If  then  Christ  truly  took  the  Nature  of  our 
Body,  and  that  Man,  Who  was  born  of 
Mary,  is  truly  Christ,  and  we  truly,  under 


a  Mystery,  receive  the  Flesh  of  His  Body, 
(and  thereby  shall  become  one,  because 
the  Father  is  in  Him  and  He  in  us),  how 
is  it  asserted  that  the  Unity  is  of  will  only, 
whereas  the  natural  property  (conveyed) 
through  the  Sacrament  is  the  Sacrament 
of  a  perfect  unity  V  And  a  little  after,  (24) 
alleging  our  Blessed  Lord's  words,  "My 
Fiesh  is  truly  meat,  My  Blood  is  truly 
drink."  "  Of  the  truth  of  the  Flesh  and 
Blood,  there  is  no  room  left  for  doubt.  For 
now,  according  both  to  the  declaration  of 
the  Lord  and  our  faith,  It  is  truly  Flesh  and 
truly  Blood.  And  these,  received  into  us, 
cause,  that  we  are  in  Christ  and  Christ  in 
us.  Is  not  this  truth?  Be  it  not  truth  to 
those  who  deny  that  Christ  Jesus  is  true 
God.  He  then  is  in  us  through  the  flesh, 
and  we  are  in  Him,  since  this,  which  we 
are,  is  with  Him  in  God." 

Would  that,  instead  of  vain  and  profane 
disputings,  we  could  but  catch  the  echoes  of 
these  hallowed  sounds,  and,  forgetting  the 
jarrings  of  our  earthly  discords,  live  in  this 
harmony  and  unity  of  Heaven,  where, 
through  and  in  our  Lord,  we  are  all  one  in 
God.  Would  that,  borne  above  ourselves, 
we  could  be  caught  up  within  the  influence 
of  the  mystery  of  that  ineffable  love  where- 
by the  Father  would  draw  us  to  that  one- 
ness with  Him  in  His  Son,  which  is  the  per- 
fection of  eternal  bliss,  where  will,  thought, 
affections  shall  be  one,  because  we  shall 
be,  by  communication  of  His  Divine  Na- 
ture, one.  Yet  such  is  undoubted  Catholic 
teaching,  and  the  most  literal  import  of 
Holy  Scripture,  and  the  mystery  of  the 
Sacrament,  that  the  Eternal  Word,  Who  is 
God,  having  taken  to  Him  our  flesh  and 
joined  it  indissolubly  with  Himself,  and  so, 
where  His  Flesh  is,  there  He  is  (25),  and 
we  receiving  it,  receive  Him,  and  receiving 
Him,  are  joined  on  to  him  through  His  Flesh 
to  the  Father,  and  He  dwelling  in  us,  dwell 
in  Him,  and  with  Him  in  God.  "I,"  he 
saith,  "  in  the  Father,  and  ye  in  Me,  and  I 
in  you."  This  is  the  perfection  after  which 
all  the  rational  creation  groans,  this  for 
which  the  Church,  which  .hath  the  first 
fruits  of  the  Spirit,  groaneth  within  herself, 
yea,  this  for  which  our  Lord  Himself  tarri- 
eth,  that  his  yet  imperfect  members  advan- 
cing onward  in  him  (26),  and  the  whole 
multitude  of  the  Redeemed  being  gathered 
into  the  One  Body,  His  whole  Body  should, 
in  Him,  be  perfected  in  the  Unity  of  the 
Father.  And  so  is  He  also,  as  Man,  truly 
the  Mediator  between  God  and  Man,  in  that 
being  as  God,  One  with  the  Father,  as  man, 
one  with  us,  we  truly  are  in  Him  who  is 
truly  in  the  Father.  lie,  by  the  truth  of 
the  Sacrament,  dwelleth  in  us,  in  Whom, 
by  Nature,  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead 
dwelleth;  and  lowest  is  joined  on  with 
highest,  earth  with  heaven,  corruption  with, 
incorruption,  man  with  God. 

But  where,  one  may  feel,  is  there  here 


ON  THE   EUCHARIST. 


any  place  for  the  sinner?  Here  all  breathes 
of  holy  life,  life  in  God,  the  life  of  God  im- 
parted to  man,  the  indwelling  of  the  All 
Holy  and  incarnate  Word,  the  Presence  of 
God  in  the  soul  and  body,  incorruption  and 
eternal  life,  through  His  Holy  Presence 
and  union  with  him,  Who,  being  God,  is 
Life.  Where  seems  there  room  for  one, 
the  mansion  of  whose  soul  has  been  broken 
down,  and  he  to  have  no  place  where  Christ 
may  lay  His  head  (27) ;  the  vessel  has  been 
broken,  if  not  defiled,  and  now  seems  unfit 
to  contain  God's  Holy  Presence ;  the  ten- 
ement has  been  narrowed  by  self-love,  and 
seems  incapable  of  expanding  to  receive 
the  love  of  God,  or  God  Who  1s  love  ;  or 
choked  and  thronged  with  evil  or  foul  ima- 
ginations ;  or  luxury  and  self-indulgence 
have  dissolved  it,  or  evil  thoughts  and  de- 
sires have  made  room  for  evil  spirits  in 
that  which  was  the  dwelling-place  of  the 
Trinity! 

Doubtless,  God's  highest  and  "  holy"  gift 
is,  as  the  Ancient  Church  proclaimed, 
chiefly  "for  the  holy."  "Ye  cannot  be 
partakers  of  the  Table  of  the  Lord,  and  the 
table  of  devils."  And  as  Holy  Scripture, 
so  also  the  Ancient  Church,  when  alluding 
to  the  fruits  of  this  ineffable  gift,  speak  of 
them  mostly  as  they  would  be  to  those, 
•who,  on  earth,  already  live  in  Heaven,  and 
on  Him  Who  is  its  life  and  bliss.  They 
speak  of  those  "  clothed  in  flesh  and  blood, 
drawing  nigh  to  the  blessed  and  immor- 
tal nature  (28)  ;"  of  "  spiritual  fire  (29) ;" 
"  grace  (30)  exceeding  human  thought  and 
a  gift  unutterable;"  "spiritual  food  (31), 
surpassing  all  creation  visible  and  invis- 
ible," "  kindling  (32)  the  souls  of  all,  and 
making  them  brighter  than  silver  purified 
by  the  fire  ;"  "  removing  (33)  us  from  earth, 
transferring  us  to  heaven,"  "  making  angels 
for  men,  so  that  it  were  a  wonder  that  man 
should  think  he  were  yet  on  earth,"  (34) 
yea,  more  than  angels,  "  becoming  that 
which  we  receive,  (35)  the  Body  of  Christ." 
For  that  so  we  are  "  members  (36)  of  Him, 
not  by  love  only,  but  in  very  deed,  mingled 
with  that  Flesh,  mingled  with  Him,  that  we 
might  become  in  a  manner  one  substance 
with  Him,"  "the  one  Body  and  one  Flesh 
of  Christ  (37) ;"  and  He  the  Eternal  Son 
and  God  the  Word  in  us, "commingled  (38) 
and  co-united  with  us,"  with  our  bodies  as 
with  our  souls,  preserving  both  for  incor- 
ruption; "re-creating  the  spirit  in  us,  to 
newness  of  life,  and  making  us  '  parta- 
kers of  His  Divine  Nature;'"  "the  bond 
of  our  unity  with  the  Father,  binding  us  to 
Himself  as  Man,"  Who  is  "by  nature,  as 
God,  in  God  His  own  Father;"  "  descend- 
ing to  our  nature  subject  to  corruption  and 
to  change,  and  raising  it  to  Its  own  excel- 
lences, and  "  by  commingling  it  with  Itself, 
all  but  removing  it  from  the  conditions  of 
created  Nature,"  and  "  re-forming  it  accord- 
ing to  Itself."  "  We  are,"  adds  St.  Cyril, 
B 


"  perfected  into  unity  with  God  the  Father, 
through  Christ  the  Mediator.  For  having 
received  into  ourselves,  bodily  and  spiritual- 
ly, Him  who  is  by  Nature  and  truly  the 
Son,  Who  hath  an  essential  Oneness  with 
Him,  we,  becoming  partakers  of  the  Na- 
ture which  is  above  all,  are  glorified.'* 
"  We,"  says  another  (39),  "  come  to  bear 
Christ  in  us,  His  Body  and  Blood  being  dif- 
fused through  our  members  ;  whence,  saith 
St.  Peter,  we  become  '  partakers  of  the 
Divine  Nature.' " 

Yet,  although  most  wjiich  is  spoken  be- 
longs to  Christians  as  belonging  already 
to  the  household  of  saints  and  the  family 
of  Heaven  and  the  Communion  of  Angels 
and  unity  with  God,  stilFhere,  as  elsewhere 
in  the  New  Testament,  there  is  a  subordi- 
nate and  subdued  notion  of  sin ;  and  what 
wraps  the  Saint  already  in  the  third  Heav- 
en, may  yet  uphold  us  sinners,  that  the  pit 
shut  not  her  mouth  upon  us.  The  same 
reality  of  the  Divine  Gift  makes  it  Angel's 
food  to  the  Saint,  the  ransom  to  the  sinner. 
And  both  because  It  is  the  Body  and  Blood 
of  Christ.  Were  it  only  a  thankful  com- 
memoration of  his  redeeming  love,  or  only 
a  showing  forth  of  His  Death,  or  a  strength- 
ening only  and  refreshing  of  the  soul,  it 
were  indeed  a  reasonable  service,  but  it 
would  have  no  direct  healing  for  the  sinner. 
To  him  its  special  joy  is  that  it  is  his  Re- 
deemer's very  (40)  broken  (41)  Body,  It  i» 
His  Blood,  which  was  shed  for  the  remis- 
sion of  his  sins.  In  the  words  of  the  an- 
cient Church,  he  "  drinks  his  ransom,"  (42} 
he  eateth  that,  "  the  very  Body  and  Blood 
of  the  Lord,  the  only  sacrifice  for  sin,"  (43) 
God  "  poureth  out"  for  him,  yet  "  the  most 
precious  blood  of  his  Only-Begotten  ;"  (44) 
they  "are  fed  from  the  Cross  of  the  Lord, 
because  they  eat  His  Body  and  Blood;'* 
(45)  and  as  of  the  Jews  of  old,  even  those 
who  had  been  the  bterayers  and  murderers 
of  their  Lord,  it  was  said,  "the  Blood  (46) 
which  in  their  phrensy  they  shed,  believ- 
ing they  drank,"  so  of  the  true  penitent  it 
may  be  said,  whatever  may  have  been  his 
sins,  so  he  could  repent,  awful  as  it  is  to- 
say,  the  Blood  he  in  deed  despised  and  pro- 
faned, and  trampled  under  foot,  may  he, 
when  himself  humbled  in  the  dust,  drink, 
and  therein  drink  his  salvation.  '  "  He  (47) 
who  refused  not  to  shed  His  blood  for  usr 
and  again  gave  us  of  His  Flesh  and  His 
very  blood,  what  will  He  refuse  for  our 
salvation  1"  "  He,"  says  St.  Ambrose,  (48) 
"  is  the  Bread  of  life.  Whoso  then  eateth 
life  cannot  die.  How  should  he  die,  whose 
food  is  life  ?  How  perish,  who  hath  a  liv- 
ing substance  ?  Approach  to  Him,  and  be 
filled,  because  He  is  Bread  ;  approach  to 
Him  and  drink,  because  He  is  a  fountain; 
approach  to  Him,  and  be  enlightened,  be- 
cause He  is  Light ;  approach  to  Him  and 
be  freed,  because  where  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  is,  there  is  liberty  approach  to  him. 


10 


DR.  PUSEY'S   SERMON 


and  be  absolved,  because  He  is  Remission 
of  sins." 

hi  each  place  in  Holy  Scripture  where 
the  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Eucharist  is 
taught,  there  is,  at  least,  some  indication 
of  the  remission  of  sins.  Our  blessed 
Lord,  while  chiefly  speaking  of  Himself, 
as  the  Bread  of  life,  the  true  meat,  the 
true  drink,  His  Indwelling  Resurrection 
from  the  dead,  and  Life  everlasting,  still 
says  also,  'the  Bread  that  I  will  give  is 
My  Flesh,  which  1  will  give  for  the  life  of 
the  world."  As  amid  the  apparent  identi- 
ty of  this  teaching,  each  separate  oracle 
enounces  some  fresh  portion  of  the  whole 
truth,  so  also  does  this ;  that  His  Flesh 
and  Blood  in  the*  Sacrament  shall  give  life, 
not  only  because  they  are  the  Flesh  and 
Blood  of  the  Incarnate  Word,  who  is  Life, 
but  also  because  they  are  the  very  Flesh 
and  Blood  which  were  given  and  shed  for 
the  life  of  the  world,  and  are  given  to 
those,  for  whom  (49)  they  had  been  given. 
This  is  said  yet  more  distinctly  in  the  aw- 
ful words  whereby  He  consecrated  forever 
(50)  elements  of  this  world  to  be  His  Body 
and  Blood.  It  has  been  remarked  (51),  as 
that  which  cannot  be  incidental,  (as  how 
should  any  words  of  the  Eternal  Word  be  in- 
cidental !)  how  amid  lesser  variations  in  the 
order  or  fulness  of  those  solemn  words  they 
still,  wherever  recorded,  speak  of  the  act  as 
a  present  act.  "  This  is  My  Body  which  is 
given  for  you  ;"  "This  is  My  Body  which 
is  broken  for  you ;"  "  This  is  My  Blood  of 
the  New  Testament  which  is  shed  for 
many  for  the  remission  of  sins;"  "This 
Cup  is  the  New  Testament  in  My  Blood 
which  is  shed  for  you."  He  sa'ith  not, 
•"  which  shall  be  given,"  "shall  be  broken," 
**  shall  be  shed,"  but "  is  being  given,"  "  be- 
ing broken,"  "  being  shed"  (6i66ftevov,  /cAw^e- 
vovs  Kxwopevov),  and  this,  in  remarkable  con- 
trast with  His  own  words,  when  speaking 
,of  that  same  Gift,  as  yet  future,  "  The 
Bread  .which  I  will  give  is  My  Flesh,  which 
I  will  give  (dv  t-yw  duGu)  for  the  life  of  the 
•world."  And  of  one  of  the  words  used, 
S.  Chrysostom  (52)  remarks  how  it  could 
not  be  said  of  the  Cross,  but  is  true  of  the 
Holy  Eucharist.  "  For  '  a  bone  of  Him,' 
it  saith,  'shall  not  be  broken.'  But  that 
which  he  suffered  not  on  the  Cross,  this  He 
suffers  in  the  oblation  for  thy  sake,  and  sub- 
mits to  be  broken  that  he  may  fill  all  men." 
Hereby  He  seems  as  well  to  teach  us  that 
the  great  Act  of  his  Passion  then  began  ; 
then,  as  a  Priest,  did  He  through  the  Eter- 
nal Spirit  offer  Himself  without  spot  to  God ; 
then  did  He  "  consecrate"  Himself  (53)  be- 
fore He  was  by  wicked  hands  crucified  and 
slain  (54) ;  and  all  which  followed,  until  He 
commended  His  Blessed  Spirit  to  the  hands 
of  His  Heavenly  Father,  was  one  protract- 
ed, willing.  Suffering.  Then  did  He  begin 
His  lonely  journey,  where  there  was  none 
to  help  or  uphold,  but  He  "  travelled  in  the 


greatness  of  His  strength ;"  then  did  He 
begin  to  "  tread  the  wine  press  alone,"  and 
to  •'  stain  all  His  raiment ;"  then  to  "  wash 
the  garments"  of  His  Humanity  "  with"  the 
"  Wine"  of  His  Blood  (55)  ;  and  therefore 
does  the  Blood  bedew  us  too ;  it  cleanses 
us,  because  it  is  the  Blood  shed  for  the  re- 
mission of  our  sins  (56).  And  this  may 
have  been  another  truth,  which  our  Lord 
intended  to  convey  to  us,  when  he  pronoun- 
ced the  words  as  the  form  which  conse- 
crates the  sacramental  elements  into  His 
Body  and  Blood,  that  that  Precious  Blood 
is  still,  in  continuance  (57)  and  application 
of  His  One  Oblation  once  made  upon  the 
Cross,  poured  out  for  us  now,  conveying  to 
our  souls,  as  being  His  Blood,  with  the  oth- 
er benefits  of  His  Passion,  the  remission  of 
our  sins  also.  And  so,  when  St.  Paul  says, 
"  The  cup  of  blessing  which  we  bless,  is  it 
not  the  participation  of  the  Blood  of  Christ  1" 
remission  of  sins  is  implied  by  the  very 
words.  For,  if  we  be  indeed  partakers  of 
His  atoning  Blood,  how  should  we  not  be 
partakers  of  its  fruits?  "That  which  is 
in  the  Cup,"  S.  Chrysostom  paraphrases, 
(58)  "  is  that  which  flowed  from  His  side, 
and  of  that  do  we  partake."  How  should 
we  approach  His  Sacred  Side,  and  remain 
leprous  still  ?  Touching  with  our  very  lips 
that  cleansing  Blood,  (59)  how  may  we  not, 
with  the  Ancient  Church,  (60)  confess, "  Lo, 
this  hath  touched  my  lips,  and  shall  take 
away  mine  iniquities  and  cleanse  my  sins  1" 
(61) 

There  is,  accordingly,  an  entire  agree- 
ment in  the  Eucharistic  Liturgies  of  the 
universal  Church,  in  prayer,  in  benediction, 
in  declaration,  confessing  that  in  the  Holy 
Eucharist,  there  is  forgiveness  of  sins  also. 
Those  of  S.  James  (62)  and  S.  Mark  (63) 
so  paraphrase  the  words  of  Consecration 
as  to  develop  the  sense  that  they  relate 
not  only  to  the  past  act  of  His  Precious 
Bloodshedding  on  the  Cross,  but  to  the  com- 
munication of  that  Blood  to  us  now.  "  This 
is  My  Body  which  for  you  is  broken  and 
given  for  the  remission  of  sins."  "  This  is 
My  Blood  of  the  New  Testament,  which 
for  you  and  for  many  is  poured  out  and  giv- 
en for  the  remission  of  sins."  Again,  the 
Liturgies  join  together,  manifoldly,  remis- 
sion of  sins  and  life  eternal,  as  the  two 
great  fruits  of  this  Sacrament.  Thus  in  the 
prayer  for  the  descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
on  the  sacred  elements,  (64)  "  that  they 
may  be  to  all  who  partake  of  them  to  the 
remission  of  sins,  and  to  life  eternal ;"  or 
in  intercession.  (65)  "  that  we  may  become 
meet  to  be  partakers  of  Thy  holy  myste- 
ries to  the  remission  of  sins  and  life  eter- 
nal," or  in  the  words  of  communicating, 
(66)  "  I  give  thee  the  precious  and  holy  and 
undented  Body  of  our  Lord  and  God  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ  for  the  remission  of 
sins  and  life  eternal."  And  the  prayer  in 
our  own  liturgy  is  almost  in  the  very  words 


ON  THE  EUCHARIST. 


11 


>of  an  Eastern  (67)  and  in  the  character  of 
a  Western  Liturgy  (68),  "  that  our  sinful 
bodies  may  be  made  clean  by  His  Body 
and  our  souls  washed  by  His  most  precious 
Blood."  Even  the  Roman  Liturgy,  though 
less  full  on  this  point,  has  prayers,  •'  that 
(69)  the  Communion  may  cleanse  us  from 
sin,"  "  may  be  the  washing  away  of  guilt, 
the  remission  of  all  offences  (70).'* 

It  will  then  seem  probably  too  refined 
and  narrowing  a  distinction,  when  some  di- 
vines of  that  communion,  countenanced  by 
the  language  of  the  Council  of  Trent  (71), 
maintain,  in  opposition  to  other  errors  (72), 
that  venial  sins  only  are  remitted  by  the 
Holy  Eucharist,  since  to  approach  it  in 
mortal  sjfi  were  itself  mortal  sin.  For  al- 
though own  our  Church  also  requires  at 
least  confession  to  God,  and  pronounces  His 
absolution  over  us,  before  we  dare  approach 
those  Holy  Mysteries,  yet  because  we  are 
so  far  freed  from  our  sins  that  we  may  ap- 
proach, to  our  salvation  not  to  condemna- 
tion, yet  can  we  say  that  we  are  so  freed, 
that  nothing  remains  to  be  washed  away  ] 
that  the  absolution,  which  admits  to  that 
cleansing  Blood,  is  everything,  that  cleans- 
ing Blood  itself,  in  this  respect  also,  addeth 
nothing  1  Rather,  the  penitent's  comfort 
is,  that,  as,  in  S.  Basil's  (73)  words  on  fre- 
quent communion, "  continual  participation 
of  life  is  nothing  else  than  manifold  life," 
so,  often  communion  of  that  Body  which 
was  broken  and  that  Blood  which  was  shed 
for  the  remission  of  sins,  is  manifold  re- 
mission of  those  sins  over  which  he  mourns, 
that  as  the  loving-kindness  of  God  admits 
him  again  and  again  to  that  Body  and  that 
Blood,  the  stains  which  his  soul  had  con- 
tracted are  more  and  more  effaced,  the  guilt 
more  and  more  purged,  the  wounds  more 
and  more  healed,  that  atoning  Blood  more 
and  more  interposed  between  him  and  his 
sins,  himself  more  united  with  his  Lord, 
Who  Alone  is  Righteousness  and  Sanctifi- 
cation  and  Redemption. 

Since,  then,  this  Divine  Sacrament  has, 
as  its  immediate  and  proper  end,  union 
with  Him  who  hath  taken  our  manhood 
into  God,  and  the  infusion  into  us  of  his 
Spirit  and  life  and  immortality,  making  us 
one  with  his  glorified  Humanity,  as  He  is 
One  in  the  Godhead  with  the  Father ;  and, 
besides  this,  it  is  ulteriorly  the  cleansing 
of  our  sins,  the  refining  our  corruptions, 
the  repairing  of  our  decays,  what  must  be 
the  loss  of  the  Church  of  the  latter  days, 
in  which  communions  are  so  infrequent! 
How  can  we  wonder  that  love  should  have 
waxed  cold,  corruptions  so  abound,  griev- 
ous falls  have  been,  among  our  youth,  al- 
most the  rule,  to  stand  upright  the  excep- 
tion, Heathen  strictness  reproach  Chris- 
tian laxity,  the  Divine  life  become  so  rare, 
all  higher  instances  of  it  so  few  and  faint, 
when  "  the  stay  and  the  staff,"  the  strength 
of  that  life  is  willingly  forfeited?  How 


should  there  be  the  fulness  of  the  Divine 
life  amid  all  but  a  month-long  fust  from  our 
"  daily  Bread  1"  While  in  the  largest  por- 
tion of  the  Church,  the  people  mostly  gaze 
at  the  threshold  of  the  Heaven  where  ihe.y 
do  not  enter  (74),  what  do  we  ?  We  seem, 
alas !  even  to  have  forgotten,  in  our  very 
thoughts,  that  daily  Communion,  which 
once  was  the  common  privilege  of  the 
whole  Church,  which,  when  the  Eastern 
Church  relaxed  in  her  first  love,  the  West- 
ern continued,  and  which  they  from  whom 
we  have  our  Communion  Service  in  its 
present  form,  at  first  hoped  to  restore  (75). 
It  implies  a  life,  so  different  from  this  our 
commonplace,  ordinary  tenour,  a  life  so 
above  this  world  as  knit  with  Him  Who 
hath  overcome  the  world  ;  so  Angelic  as 
living  on  Him  Who  is  Angels'  Food  (76) ; 
a  union  with  God  so  close,  that  we  can- 
not mostly,  I  suppose,  imagine  to  ourselves 
how  we  could  daily  thus  be  in  Heaven  and 
in  our  daily  business  here  below,  how  sanc- 
tify our  daily  duties,  thoughts,  refresh- 
ment, so  that  they  should  be  tinged  with 
the  hues  reflected  by  our  daily  Heaven,  not 
that  heavenly  gift  be  dimmed  with  our 
earthliness;  how  our  souls  should  through 
the  day  shine  with  the  glory  of  that  ineffa- 
ble Presence  to  which  we  had  approached, 
not  we  approach  to  it  with  earth-dimmed 
souls.  It  must  ever  be  so;  we  cannot 
know  the  Gift  of  God,  if  we  forfeit  it ;  we 
must  cease  mostly  even  to  long  for  what 
we  forego.  We  lose  the  very  sense  to  un- 
derstand it. 

It  is  riot  in  blame  of  others,  my  brethv  \ 
God  forbid!  it  is  as  the  confession  t  i 
common  fault,  to  which  others  have  con- 
tributed least  who  have  been  least  unwor- 
thy, and  which,  if  we  confess,  God  may 
the  rather  teach  us  how  to  amend,  that  I 
dare  not  but  notice,  how  even  in  this  priv- 
ileged and  protected  place,  we  still  mostly 
forego  even  what  remains,  and  what  our 
Liturgy  still  enjoins.  We  have  learned 
even,  as  people  needs  must,  to  justify  the 
omission.  As  those,  who  know  not  our 
privileges  of  daily  service,  think  set  daily 
prayers  must  become  a  lifeless  form,  so 
right-minded  persons  speak,  (and  perhaps 
until  they  know  it,  must  needs  speak,)  as 
though  not  we  needed  more  reverence  to 
partake  worthily  of  the  Communion  week- 
ly, but  as  though  weekly  Communions 
must  needs  decrease,  not  increase,  rever- 
ence. And  thus  in  this  abode,  which  God 
has  encompassed  and  blessed  with  privi- 
leges above  all  others,  where  so  many 
have  been  brought  into  an  especial  near- 
ness to  Him,  and  a  sacredness  of  office,  so 
many  look  to  be  so  brought,  and  yet  on 
that  account  need  the  more  watchfulness 
and  Divine  strength  that  they  fall  not — 
where,  if  we  will,  we  may  retire  into  our- 
selves, as  much  as  we  will,  and  have  daily 
prayers  to  prepare  our  souls — we  have  in 


12 


DR.   PUSEY'S  SERMON  ON  THE   EUCHARIST. 


very  many  cases,  not  even  the  privileges 
which  are  becoming  common  in  village 
Churches;  we  all,  to  whom  it  is  expressly, 
as  by  name,  enjoined,  to  •'  receive  the  (77) 
Holy  Communion  with  the  Priest  every 
Sunday  at  the  least"  have  it  perhaps  scarce- 
ly monthly  (78),  and  the  thanksgiving  for 
the  Ascension  of  our  Lord  stands  in  our 
Prayer  Book  year  by  year  unuttered,  be- 
cause when  he  ascended  up  on  high  to  re- 
ceive gifts  for  men,  there  are  none  here 
below  to  receive  the  Gift  He  won  for  us, 
or  Himself,  Who  is  the  Giver  and  the  Gift. 
Nor  has  this  been  ever  thus;  even  a  cen- 
tury and  a  half  ago,  this  Cathedral  was  re- 
marked as  one  of  those,  where,  after  the 
desolation  of  the  Great  Rebellion,  weekly 
Communions  were  still  celebrated.  (79) 

But.  however  we  may  see  that  our  pres- 
ent decay  and  negligence  should  not  con- 
tinue, restoration  must  not  be  rashly  com- 
passed. It  is  not  a  matter  of  obeying  ru- 
brics, but  of  life  or  death— of  health  or 
decay — of  corning  together  for  the  better 
or  for  the  worst,  to  salvation  or  to  con- 
demnation. Healthful  restoration  is  a  work 
of  humility,  not  to  be  essayed  as  though 
we  had  the  disposal  of  things,  and  could  at 
our  will  replace  what  by  our  forefathers' 
negligence  was  lost,  and  by  our  sins  bound 
up  with  theirs  is  yet  forfeited.  Sound  res- 
toration must  be  the  gift  of  God,  to  be 
sought  of  him  in  humiliation,  in  prayer,  in 
mutual  forbearance  and  charity,  with  in- 
creased strictness  of  life,  and  more  diligent 
use  of  what  we  have.  We  must  consult 
one  for  the  other.  There  is,  in  our  fallen 
state,  a  reverent  abstaining  from  more  fre- 
quent Communion,  founded  on  real  though 
undue  fears  ;  there  is  and  ought  to  be  a  real 
consciousness  that  more  frequent  Com- 
munion should  involve  a  change  of  life, 
more  collectedness  in  God,  more  retire- 
ment, at  times,  from  society,  deeper  con- 
sciousness of  His  presence,  more  sacred- 
ness  in  our  ordinary  actions  whom  He  so 
vouchsafeth  to  hallow,  greater  love  for  His 
Passion  which  we  celebrate,  and  carrying 
it  about,  in  strictness  of  self-rule  and  self- 
discipline,  and  self-denying  love.  And  these 
graces,  we  know  too  well,  come  slowly. 
Better,  then,  for  a  time  forego  what  any 
would  long  for,  or  obtain  it,  whereby  God's 
bounty  and  Providence  that  Gift  may  be 
had,  than  by  premature  urgency  "  walk  not 
charitably,"  or  risk  injury  to  a  brother's 
soul.  He  Who  alone  can  make  more  fre- 
quent Communion  a  blessing,  and  who 
gave  such  strength  to  that  one  heavenly 
meal,  whereby  through  forty  days  and 
forty  nights  of  pilgrimage  he  carried  Eli- 
jah to  His  Presence  at  the  Mount  of  God, 


can,  if  we  be  faithful  and  keep  His  Gift 
which  we  receive,  give  such  abundant, 
strength  to  our  rarer  Communions,  that 
they  shall  carry  us  through  our  forty  years 
of  trial  unto  his  own  Holy  Hill,  and  the 
Vision  of  himself  in  bliss.  Rather  should 
those  who  long  for  it,  fear  that  if  it  were 
given  them,  they  might  not  be  fitted  for  it, 
or,  if  we  have  it,  that  we  come  short  of  the 
fulness  of  its  blessing,  than  use  inconsid- 
erate eagerness  in  its  restoration.  Ask  we 
it  of  God,  so  will  He  teach  us  how  to  ob- 
tain it  of  those  whom  He  has  made  its  dis- 
pensers to  us.  They  too  have  their  re- 
sponsibilities, not  to  bestow  it  prematurely, 
though  they  be  involved  in  the  common 
loss.  Let  us  each  suspect  ourselves,  not 
others;  the  backward  their  own  oackward- 
ness,  the  forward  their  own  eagerness ; 
each  habitually  interpret  well  the  other's 
actions  and  motives ;  they  who  seek  to  par- 
take more  often  of  the  heavenly  Food,  hon- 
our the  reverence  and  humility  which  ab- 
stains, and  they  who  think  it  reverent  ta 
abstain,  censure  not  as  innovation,  the  re- 
turn to  ancient  devotion  and  love  ;  restore 
it,  if  we  may,  at  such  an  hour  of  the  day, 
when  to  be  absent  need  not  cause  pain  or 
perplexity,  and  may  make  least  distinction  ; 
so,  while  we  each  think  all  good  of  the 
other,  may  we  altogether,  strengthened  by 
the  Same  Bread,  washed  by  the  Same 
Blood,  be  led,  in  the  unity  of  the  Spirit  and 
the  bond  of  peace  and  holiness  of  life,  to 
that  ineffable  Feast,  where  not,  as  now,  in 
Mysteries,  but  face  to  face,  we  shall  ever 
see  God,  and  be  ever  rilled  with  His  Good- 
ness and  His  Love. 

Meantime  such  of  us  as  long  to  be  peni- 
tents, may  well  feel  that  we  are  less  than 
the  least  of  God's  mercies ;  that  we  have 
already  far  more  than  we  deserve;  (for 
whereas  we  deserved  Hell,  we  have  the 
aritepast  of  Heaven) ;  that  the  children's 
bread  is  indeed  taken  and  given  unto  dogs; 
that  He,  who  is  undefiled,  spotless,  separate 
from  sinners,  cometh  to  be  a  guest  with  us 
sinners ;  and  therein  may  we  indeed  find 
our  comfort  and  our  stay.  For  where  He 
is,  how  should  there  not  be  forgiveness,  and 
life,  and  peace,  and  joy  ?  What  other  hope 
need  we,  if  we  may  indeed  hope  that  we 
thereby  dwell  in  Him  and  He  in  us,  He  in 
us,  if  not  by  the  fulness  of  His  graces,  yet 
with  such  at  least  as  are  fitted  to  our  state, 
cleansing  our  iniquities  and  healing  our  in- 
firmities, Himself  the  forgiveness  we  long- 
for;  we  in  Him,  in  Whom  if  we  be  found 
in  that  Day,  our  pardon  is  forever  sealed, 
ourselves  forever  cleansed,  our  iniquity  for- 
given, and  our  sin  covered. 


NOTES. 


(1)  Wisd.,  xvi.,  20. 

(2)  Horn.  46,  in  S.  Joh.  fin. 

(3    S.  Ambrose  de  Jos.,  c.  3,  §  11. 

(4    Horn.  47,  in  S.  Joh.  init. 

(5    Ep.  15,  ad  Mart.,  and  Ep.  16,  ad  Presb. 

(6  All  the  following  types,  as  also  that  of  the 
"burning  coal, "referred  to  hereafter, are  receiv- 
ed (with  some  others)  even  by  the  learned  Lu- 
theran, J.  Gerhard  (de  S.  Coen.,  c.  2),  as  are 
some  of  the  verbal  prophesies ;  all  are  currently 
Ibund  among  the  Fathers. 

(7)  Sam.,  xxi.,  5. 

(8)  S.  Ambr.  de  Myst.  fin.,  S.  Jerome,  Ep. 
1-20,  ad  Hedib.,  q.  2,  on  St.  Matt.,  xxvi.,  29. 
"  Moses  gave  us  not  the  true  bread,  but  the  Lord 
Jesus;  Himself  feasting,  and  the  feast;  Himself 
eating,  and  Who  is  eaten  (Ipse  conviva  et  con- 
vivium,  ipse  comedens  et  qui  comeditur).    We 
drink  His  Blood,  and  without  Himself  we  can- 
not drink  it.    Let  us  do  His  will,  and  Christ  will 
drink  with  us  His  own  Blood  in  the  kingdom  of 
the  Church." 

(9)  "  Marvel  not  hereat,nor  inquire  in  Jewish 
manner  how,"  &c.— S.  Cyr.,  in.  S.  Joh.,  1.  iv.,  p. 
362,  Add.,  p.  358,  5. 

(10)  "  When  the  Son  saith  that  He  was  sent, 
He  signifieth  His  Incarnation,  and  nothin^else; 
but  by  Incarnation  we  mean  that  He  became 
wholly  man.    As,  then,  the  Father,  He  saith, 
made  Me  man,  and  since  I  was  begotten  of  That 
Which  is,  by  nature,  Life,  I,  being  God  the 
Word,  'live,'  and,  having  become  man,  filled 
My  Temple,  that  is,  My  Body,  with  Mine  own 
nature.;  so  then,  in  like  manner,  shall  he  also 
who  eateth  my  Flesh  live  by  Me.    For  I  took 
mortal  flesh;  but,  having  dwelt  in  it,  being  by 
nature  Life,  because  I  am  of  The  living  Father, 
I  have  transmuted  it  wholly  into  My  own  life. 
The  corruption  of  the  flesh  conquered  not  me, 
but  I  conquered  it,  as  God.    As  then  (for  I  again 
say  it,  unwearied,  since  it  is  to  profit),  although 
I  was  made  flesh  (for  the  'being  sent'  meaneth 
this),  again  I  live  through  the  living  Father,  that 
is,,  retaining  in  Myself  the  natural  excellence 
(ev(j)vlav)  of  Him  Who  begat  Me.  so  also  he,  who, 
by  the  participation  of  My  Flesh,  receiveth  Me, 
shall  have  life  in  himself,  being  wholly  and  alto- 
gether transferred  into  Me,  who  am  able  to  give 
life,  because  I  am,  as  it  were,  of  the  lifegiving 
Root,  that  is,  God  the  Father."— S.  Cyril  in  S. 
Joh.,  1.  iv.,  c.  3,  inil.,  p.  366,  ed.  Aub. 

(11)  "So  receive  the  Holy  Communion,  be- 
Jieving  that  it  hath  power  of  expelling,  not  death 
only,  but  the  diseases  in  us  [i.  <?.,  in  the  soul]. 
For  Christ  thus  coming  to  be  in  us  (h  rjiuv  yeyo- 
rwf),  lulleth  in  us  the  law  which  rageth  in  the 
members  of  the  flesh,  and  kindleth  carefulness 
to  Godward,  and  deadeneth  passions,"  &c. — S. 
Cyr.  in  S.  Joh.,  vi.,  56,  p.  365.     '  He  saith,  he 
that  eateth  My  Flesh  dwelleth  in  Me,  showing 
that  He  is  mingled  with  him  (kv  CLVT&  avaKtpvd- 
Tai)."— S.  Chrys.,  Horn.,  47,  in  S.,  §  i.    "  Thou 
hast  not  the  Cherubim,  but  the  Lord  Himself  of 


the  Cherubim  in  dwelling,  not  the  pot,  nor  the 
manna,  the  tables  of  stone  and  Aaron's  rod,  but 
the  Body  and  Blood  of  the  Lord."  —  S.  Chrys.  in, 
Ps.  133.  "  Thou  art  about  to  receive  the  King 
within  thee  (vTrodexeaQai)  by  communion.  When 
the  King  entereth  the  soul,  there  ought  to  be  a 
great  calm."  —  S.  Chrys.,  de  B.  Philog..  fin. 


(12)  See  S.  Cyr.,  ib.,  p.  363. 

(13)  " 


Why  do  we  receive  it  [the  Holy  Eu- 
charist] within  us  1  Is  it  not  that  it  may  make 
Christ  to  dwell  in  us  corporeally  also  (up  ov^l 
Kal  CT6>/z<m/cejf  Tip.lv  ivoiKi^ovaa  TOV  X/KOTOV),  by 
participation  and  communion  of  His  holy  flesh  1 
For  St.  Paul  says  that  the  Gentiles  are  imbodied 
(avaaufia)  with,  and  coheirs,  and  copartakers  of 
Christ  7  How  are  they  shown  to  be  '  embodied  V 
Because,  being  admitted  to  share  the  Holy  Eu- 
charist,' they  become  one  body  with  Him,  just 
as  each  one  of  the  holy  Apostles.  For  why  did 
he  [St.  Paul]  call  his  own,  yea  the  members  of 
all,  as  well  as  his  own,  the  members  of  Christ! 
(1  Cor.,  vi.,  15.)  And  the  Saviour  Himself 
saith,  'Whoso  eateth  My  Flesh,  and  drinketh, 
My  Blood,  dwelleth  in  Me  and  I  in  Him.'  For 
here  it  is  especially  to  be  observed,  that  Christ 
saith  that  He  shall  be  in  us,  not  by  a  certain  re- 
lation only  as  entertained  through  the  affections, 
but  also  by  a  natural  participation.  For,  as  if 
one  entwineth  wax  with  other  wax,  and  melteth 
them  by  the  fire,  there  resulteth  of  both  one  (Iv 
TI),  so  through  the  participation  of  the  Body  of 
Christ  and  of  His  precious  Blood,  He  in  us,  and 
we  again  in  Him,  are  co-united  ;  for  in  no  other 
way  could  that  which  is  by  nature  corruptible 
be  made  alive,  unless  it  were  bodily  entwined 
with  the  Body  of  That  Which  is  by  nature  Life, 
tne  Only-Begotten  (ei  fj,rj  avve-KhaKr)  aufiariKutg 
TW  aufiaTi  T7/f  Kara.  <l>vqtv  farjc  TOVT'  e<m,  row  Mo- 
voyevovf).  And  if  any  be  not  persuaded  by  my 
words,  give  credence  to  Christ  himself,  crying 
aloud,  'Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  Except 
ye  eat,'  &c.  (St.  John,  vi.,  53,  54.)  Thou  hear- 
est  how  Himself,  plainly  declaring  that,  unless 
we  '  eat  His  Flesh  and  drink  His  Blood,'  we 
'have  not  in  ourselves,'  that  is,  in  our  flesh, 
'  Eternal  Life  ;  but  Eternal  Life  may  be  conceiv- 
ed to  be,  and  most  justly,  the  Flesh  of  Th<U 
Which  is  Life,  that  is,  the  Only-Begotten.'  " 
S.  Cyr.  in  S.  Joh.,  xv.,  1,  1.  x.,  c.  2,  p.  862,  3. 
"  How  say  they  that  the  flesh  goeth  to  corrup- 
tion, and  parlaketh  not  of  life,  which  is  nourish- 
ed by  the  Body  of  the  Lord  and  by  His  Blood. 
Our  doctrine  agreeth  with  the  Eucharist,  and  the 
Eucharist  confirmeth  our  doctrine.  For  as  bread 
out  of  the  earth  receiveth  the  invocation  of  God, 
is  no  longer  common  bre.ad,  but  Eucharist,  con- 
sisting of  two  things,  an  earthly  and  a  heavenly, 
so  also  our  bodies,  receiving  the  Eucharist,  are 
no  longer  corruptible,  having  the  hope  of  the 
Resurrection  forever."—  S.  Iren..,  4,  18,  5;  comp. 
S.  Greg.  Nyss.  (very  fully),  Catech.  Oral.,  c.  37, 
t.  iii.,  p.  102. 
(14)  But,  in  the  words  of  our  Catechism,  "  by 


14 


DR.   PUSEY'S   SERMON 


the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,"  i.  e.t  by  receiving 
them. 

(15)  Ezek.,  xxviii.,  12,  15. 

(16)  "  I  say  more,  even  angels,  and  virtues, 
ana  tne  higher  powers  are  confederated  in  this 
one  Church,    as   the  Apostle   teaches   that  in 
Christ  all  things  are  reconciled,  not  only  things 
in  earth,   but  things  in  heaven."  —  S.  Nicetae 
Expl.  Symb,  p.  44,  (quoted  Manning,  Unity  of 
the  Church,  p.  37.) 

(17)  "Doth  any  man  doubt  that  even  from 
the  flesh  of  Christ  our  very  bodies  do  receive 
that  life  which  shall  make  them  glorious  at  the 
latter  day,  and  for  which  they  are  already  ac- 
counted parts  of  His  Blessed  Body  1     Our  cor- 
ruptible bodies  could  never  live  the  life  they  live, 
were  it  not  that  here  they  are  joined  with  His 
Body,  which  is  incorruptible,  and  that  His  is  in 
ours  as  a  cause  of  immortality  —  a  cause  by  re- 
moving through  the  death  and  merit  of  His  own 
flesh  that  which  hindered  the  life  of  ours.    Christ 
is,  therefore,  both  as  God  and  as  man,  that  true 
vine  whereof  we  both  spiritually  and  corporeally 
are  branches.     The  mixture  of  His  bodily  sub- 
stance with  ours  is  a  thing  which  the  ancient 
fathers  disclaim.     Yet  the  mixture  of  His  flesh 
with  ours  they  speak  of,  to  signify  what  our  very 
bodies  through  mystical  conjunction  receive  from 
that  vital  efficacy  which  we  know  to  be  in  His  ; 
and  from  bodily  mixtures  they  borrow  diverse 
similitudes  rather  to  declare  the  truth,  than  the 
manner  of  coherence  between  his  sacred  and  the 
sanctified  bodies  of  saints."—  Hooker,  H.  E.,  v., 
56,  9.     The  thoughtful  study  of  these  chapters 
of  Hooker  on  the  connexion  of  the  Sacraments 
xvith  the  Incarnation  of  our  Blessed  Lord  would 
do  much,  in  pious  minds,  to  remove  existing 
difficulties  in  the  reception  of  the  truth. 

(18)  "The  Holy  Body  then  of  Christ  giveth 
life  to  those  in  whom  It  is,  and  keepeth  them 
from  incorruption,  mingled  (uva/apr«//£vov)  with 
our  bodies.     For  we  know  it  to  be  the  Body  of 
no  other  than  of  Him  Who  is,  by  Nature,  Life, 
having  in  Itself  the  whole  Virtue,  of  the  united 


Word,  and  in-qualitied  as  it  were, 
yea,  rather,  rilled  with  His  mighty  working, 
whereby  all  things  are  made  alive  and  kept  in 
being.—  S.  Cyr.  in  S.  Joh.  6,  35,  1,  iii.,  c.  6,  p.  324. 

(19)  S.  Chrys.  Horn.  46,  in  S.  Joh.  §  2,  fin. 
11  Wherefore  we  needs  ought  to  learn  what  is  the 
miracle  (davpa)  of  the  Mysteries,  why  they  were 
given,  and  what  their  benefit.     We  become  one 
body,  members,  he  saith,  of  His  Flock  and  of 
His  Bones."—  Add.,  §  3.     See  also  Mede,  App. 

(20)  "  If  they  who  touched  the  hem  of  His 
garment  drew  such  great  virtue,  how  much  more 
they  who  possess  him  wholly  (ol  6/lov  avrbv^ar- 
£^ovr£f)."—  S.  Chrys.  Horn.  50,  in  S.  Matt.,  §  2. 

(21)  S.  Cyril  Alex,  in  S.  Joh.  1,  iv.,  c.  2,  in  v. 
44,  p.  361.     The  words  just  preceding  are,  on  v. 
24.     "  For  wholly  destitute  of  all  share  and  taste 
of  that  life  which  is  sanctification  and  bliss,  are 
they  who  do  not  through  the  mystical  Commu- 
nion (evhayia)  receive  the  Son." 


there  Christ  is. 
When  the  adversary  shall  see  thy  dwelling-place 
(hospitium)  filled  with  the  brightness  of  the  heav- 
enly Presence,"  &c.—  S.  Ambr.,  in  Ps.  118,  §  8, 
48. 

(26)  S.  Aug.  in  Ps.  138,  §  21.  Serm.  135,  de 
verb.;  Ev.  Joh.,  9,  c.  5,  comp.  S.  Hil.  de  Trin., 
xi,  49,  (quoted  Tract  on  Holy  Baptism,  p.  180, 
ed.  3.) 


(27)  Bp.  Andrewes'  Devotions  for  Holy  Com- 
munion, (from  Ancient  Liturgies,)  "  O  Lord,  I 
am  not  worthy,  I  am  not  fit,  that  Thou  shouldest 
come  under  the  roof  of  my  soul ;  for  it  is  all 
desolate  and  ruined  ;  nor  hast  Thou  in  me  fitting 
place  to  lay  thy  head." 

(28)  S.  Chrys.  de  Sacerdot.,  iii.,  5,  add.  in  die 
Nat.  J.  C.,  t.  2,  p.  305,  "  consider  that,  being  earth 
and  ashes,  thou  receivest  the  Body  and  Blood  of 
Christ— now  when   God  inviteth  thee   to  His 
own  Table,  and  setteth  before  thee  his  own  Son. 
— let  us  draw  near  as  approaching  to  the  King 
of  Heaven." 

(29)  De  Beat.  Philog.  Horn.,  vi.,  t.  i.,  p.  500, 
ed.  Ben.  de  Pcenit.  Horn.  9,  init.,  S.  Ephr.  Opp. 
Syr.,  t.  iii,  p.  23. 

(30)  S.  Chrys.  in  Ps.  133. 

(31)  S.  Chrys.  de  Bapt.  Christi,  fin. 

(32)  "  This  Blood  is  the   salvation  of  our 
souls ;  by  this  the  soul  is  washed ;  by  this  beau- 
tified; by  this  kindled;   this  maketh  our  mind 
gleam  more   than   fire;    this  maketh  the  soul 
brighter  than  gold." — S.  Chrys.  in  S.  Joh.  Horn. 
46,  §  3,  add.  de  Sac,  iii,  4. 

(33)  S.  Christ,  in  S.  Matt.  Horn.  25,  §  3. 

S.  Chrys.  de  Bapt.  Christi  fin.,  t.  ii.,  p. 


(34 
374. 
(35 
36 


S.  Aug.  Serm.,  227,  ad  Inf.  de  Sacr. 
.  S.  Chrys.  Horn,  46,  in  S.  Joh,  §  3.  "  But 
that  we  may  be  thus  [one  body,  members  of  His 
Flesh  and  of  His  Bones,]  not  through  love  only, 
but  in  very  truth,  be  we  mingled  with  that  Flesh* 
For  this  taketh  place  through  the  Food  He  gave 
us,  wishing  to  show  the  longing  He  hath  towards 
us,  wherefore  He  hath  mingled  Himself  with  us, 
and  blended  (uue^vp?)  His  body  with  us  that  we 
might  be  in  a  manner  one  substance  (iv  TL)  as 
the  body  joined  to  the  head;"  and  in  S.  Matt. 
Horn.  82,  §  5.  "  It  sufficed  not  to  Him  to  be- 
come m*an,  nor  to  be  buffeted  and  slain,  but  He 
mingleth  Himself  also  with  us,  and  not  by  faith, 
only,  but  in  very  deed  maketh  us  His  Body." 
"  For  as  if  one  joineth  wax  with  wax,  he  will 
see  the  one  in  the  o,lher,  in  like  manner,  I  deem, 
he  who  receiveth  the  Flesh  of  pur  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ,  and  drinketh  His  precious  Blood,  as  He 
saith,  is  found  as  one  substance  with  Him  (2v 
«$•  ?rpoc  avrbv)  commingled  as  it  were  and  im- 
mingled  with  him  (dwavaKipvupcvoc  &GTTEQ  KOL 
ava/ut"yvv[ievo£  avru),  through  the  participation, 
so  that  he  is  found  in  Christ,  and  Christ  again  in 
him.  As  then  Paul  saith  that  a  little  leaven 
leaveneth  the  whole  lump,  so  the  least  portion 
of  the  consecrated  elements  blendeth  (uvafvpet) 
our  whole  body  with  itself,  and  filleth  it  with  its 
own  mighty  working,  and  thus  Christ  cometh  to 
be  in  us  and  we  in  Him."— S.  Cyr.  in  S.  John,  6 
57,  p.  364,  5.  S.  Cyril  again  use's  the  word  ava- 
KEKpan£vov£  ib,  p.  351. 

(37)  S.  Cnrys.  in   S.  Mat,  Hem,  82,  §  5. 
"  That  whereas  the  Angels  gaze  with  awe,  there- 
by are  we  nourished,  therewith  are  we  mingled, 
and  we  become  the  one  body  and  the  one  flesh 
of  Christ."    Add,  S.  Cyr,  Jer,  Lect.  22,  §  3. 

(38)  The  whole  passage  stands  thus  in  S.  Cyr- 
il, (in  S.  Joh,  17,  23,  1.  xi,  c.  12,  p.  1001,)  «  We 
are  united  [not  only  with  each  other,  but]  with 
God  also.     And  how,  the  Lord  Himself  hath  ex- 
plained.    { I  in  them,  and  Thou  in  Me,  that  they 
may  be  perfected  in  one  (si?  £f).'    For  the  Son 
is  in  us  corporeally  as  Man,   commingled  and 
co-united  with  us  (rrwavaKipvfj.'  //cvof  re  nai  cv- 
vevoufievofi  by  the  Holy  Eucharist.     And  again 
spiritually  as  God,  by  the  power  arid  grace  of 
His  own  Spirit,  re-creating  the  spirit  in  us  to 


ON  THE  EUCHARIST. 


15 


newness  of  life,  and  making  us  partakers  of  the 
Divine  Nature.  Christ  then  appeareth  to  be  the 
bond  of  our  unity  with  God  the  Father,  binding 
us  lo  Himself,  as  Man,  but  being,  as  God,  in  God 
His  own  Father.  For  in  no  other  way  could 
the  nature,  subject  to  corruption,  rise  aloft  to  in- 
corruption,  unless  the  nature,  superior  to  all  cor- 
ruption and  change,  had  descended  to  it,  lighten- 
ing in  a  manner  that  which  ever  sunk  down- 
ward, and  raising  it  to  its  own  excellences,  and 
by  communion  and  commingling  with  Itself  all 
'but  upliiiing  it  from  the  conditions  conformable 
to  created  nature,  and  reforming  according  to  It- 
self, that  which  is  not  so  of  Itself.  We  are,  &c. 
[as  in  the  text.]  For  Christ  willeth  that  we  be 
received  into  the  oneness  with  God  the  Father." 

(39)  S.  Cyr.,  Jer.,  1.  c. 

(40)  S.  Chrys.,  in  S.  .Toh.,  Horn.,  46,  §  4.     "I 
willed  to  become  your  Brother;  I  became  part- 
ner ofFlesh  and  Blood  foryoursake;  again,  that 
same  Flesh  and  Blood,  whereby  I  became  akin 
to  you,  I  give  forth  to  you."    S.  Ignat.,  Ep.  ad 
Smyrn.,  §  7.     "  They  [the  Docetae]  abstain  from 
the  Eucharist  and  p'rayer,  because  they  confess 
not  that  the  Eucharist  is  that  Flesh  of  our  Sav- 
iour Jesus  Christ  which  suffered  for  our  sins, 
which  by  His  loving-kindness  the  Father  raised." 
— Comp.  Bp.  Taylor,  (App.) 

(41)  See  S.  Chrys.  below,  p.  21.    Liturgies,  p. 
24.     Rp.  Taylor,  (App.) 

(42)  S.  Aug.  Conf,  1,  10,  fin.,  "  pretii  nostri 
Sacramentum,"  ib.,  1.  9,  §  36. 

(43)  S.  Aug.,  c.  Cresc.,  Don.  i.,  25. 

(44)  S.  Aug.,  Serm.  216,  §  3,  "  whom  He  ac- 
counteth  so  dear,  that  for  you  He  poureth  out 
daily,"  &c. 

(45)  S.  Aug.  in  Ps.  100,  9. 

(46)  S.  Aug.,  Serm.  77,  4  add.,  Serm.  80,  5, 
fin.,  S.  87,  14,  S.  89.  1,  S.  352,  2,  in  Ps.  45,  §  4, 
and  in  Ps.  65,  $  £,  add.,  S.  Chrys.  de  Prod.  Jud. 
Horn.,  2,  $  3.     "  This  is  my  Blood,  which.is  shed 
for  you  for  the  remission  of  sins.     And  Judas 
was  present  when  the  Lord  said  fhis.     This  is 
the  Blood  which  thou  didst  sell  for  'hirty  pieces 
of  silver.     Oh  how  great  the  loving-kindness  of 
Christ!  oh,  what  the  ingratitude  of  Judas!    The 
Lord  nourished,  the  servant  sold.     For  he  sold 
Him,  receiving  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver;  Christ 
shed  His  own  Blood  as  a  ransom  for  us,  and  gave 
It  to  him,  who  sold  Him,  had  he  willed.     For  Ju- 
das also  was  present  before  the  betrayal,  and 
partook  of  the  Holy  Table,  and  received  the 
mystical  Feast/' 

(47)  S.  Chrys.  ad  Pop.  Ant.  ii.,  fin. 

(48)  In  Ps.  118,  lit.  18.  §28. 

(49)  St.  Chrys.  in  St.  Matt.  Horn.  25,  §  3.   "  If 
of  His  Birth  it  is  said  'all  this,'  what  shall  we 
say  of  His  being  crucified,  and  shedding  His 
Blood   for  us,  and  giving  Himself  to  us  for  a 
spiritual  feast  and  banquet'?"— S.  Cyr.,  in  S.Joh., 
vi.,  51,  lib.  iv.,  c.  2,  p.  354.     "Christ  then  gave 
His  own  Body  for  the  life  of  all,  but  again 
through  It  He  maketh  life  to  dwell  in  us  (ivoi- 
Kj'C«;)  and  how,  I  will  say  as  I  am  able.    For 
when  the  life-giving  Word  of  God  dwelt  in  the 
flesh,  He  transformed  it  into  His  own  proper 
good,  i.  e.  life,  and  by  the  unspeakable  character 
of  this  union,  coming  wholly  together  with  it, 
made  It  life-giving,  as  Himself  is  by  Nature. 
Where  the  Body  of  Christ  giveth  life  to  all  who 
partake  of  It,  for  -It  expels~death  when  it  enter- 
eth  those  subject  to  death,  and  rernoveth  corrup- 
tion, producing  by  Itself  perfecty,  (reAe/uf  utiii>ov 
h  iavrC)}  that  Word  which  abolibheth  corrup- 


tion."—St.  Cypr.  Ep.  ad  Caecil.  init.  "  His  Blood 
whereby  we  were  redeemed  and  brought  to  life 
cannot  seem  to  be  in  the  Cup,  when  wine  is 
wanting  to  the  Cup,  whereby  the  blood  of  Christ 
is  set  forth."— S.  Clem.  al.  Psed.,  ii.,  2,  v.,  tin. 
"He  blessed  wine  when  He  said,  Take,  drink,, 
this  is  My  Blood,  the  blood  of  the  vine;  for  the 
Word,  Which  is  poured  forth  for  many  for  the 
remission  of  sins,  he  calls,  in  image,  the  holy 
fountain  of  joy." 

(50)  S.  Chrys.  de  Prodit.  Jud.,  Horn.,  i.,  6. 
"As  that  voice,  'increase  and  be  multiplied,' 
was  uttered  once,  but  throughout  all  time  doth 
in  act  enable  our  race  to  produce  children,  so 
also  that  voice  [This  is  My  Body],  once  spoken, 
doth,  on  every  Table  in  the  Churches,  from  that 
time  until  this  day,  and  until  His  Coming,  make 
the  Sacrifice  perfect." 

(51)  Johnson's  Unbloody  Sacrifice,  c.  2,  s.  1, 
p.  85,  sqq.     Of  Roman  Catholic  Divines,  it  is 
maintained  by  Jansenius  ad  Concordiam  Evang.r 
c.  13,  and  others  quoted  by  Vazquez  (qu.  78,  art. 
3,  Disp.  99,  c.  1.),  rejected  by  Vazquez  (ib.) 

(52)  Horn.  24  in  1  Cor.,  §  4.    The  comment  is 
immediately  on  c.  10,  16,  "the  Bread  which  we 
break,"  TOV  uprov  bv  /c/lw/zfv,  where  he  chiefly 
dwells  on  the  doctrines  of  the  Holy  Eucharist. 
It,  of  coqrse,  more  strongly  applies  to  the  words 
themselves,  TO  VTTEP  vft&v  n/iufievov. 

(53^  S.  John,  xvii.,  19.  "  What  meaneth,  '  I 
sanctify  Myself  V  I  offer  Thee  a  sacrifice  ;  but 
all  the  sacrifices  are  called  'holy;'  and,  proper- 
ly, 'holy'  are  what  are  dedicated  to  God."  S. 
Chrys.,  ad  loc.  Horn.,  82,  §  1.  "  That,  according- 
to  the  usage  of  the  law,  is  said  lo  be  sanctified 
which  is  by  any  one  brought  unto  God,  as  a  gift 
or  offering,  such  as  every  first-born  \vhich  open- 
eth  the  womb  among  the  children  of  Israel.  For 
He  saith  unto  Moses,  '  sanclify  unto  Me,'  &c. ;, 
i.  e.,  dedicate,  set  apart,  write  down  as  holy. 
Taking,  then,  according  to  usage,  'sanctify'  as 
meaning  '  to  dedicate  and  set  apart,'  we  say  that 
the  Son  'sanctified  Himself  for  us.  For  He  of- 
fered Himself,  as  a  Sacrifice  and  holy  Offering 
lo  God  the  Father,  reconciling  the  word  unto 
Him,'  &c—  S.  Cyr.,  ad  loc.,  1,  xi.,  c.  10,  p.  989. 

(54.)  "  He  Whodisposeth  all  things  according 
to  His  supreme  Will,  awaiteth  not  the  compul- 
sion from  the  Betrayal,  nor  the  violent  assault  of 
the  Jews,  and  the  lawless  judgment  of  Pilate,  so 
that  their  malice  should  be  the  beginning  and 
cause  of  the  common  salvation  of  man  ;  but  by 
this  dispensation  He  amicipateth  their  assault 
according  to  the  mode  of  His  Priestly  Act,  inef- 
fable and  invisible  to  man,  and  offered  Himself 
as  an  Offering  and  Sacrifice  for  us,  Priest  at 
once  and  the  Lamb  of  God,  Who  taketh  away 
the  sins  of  the  world." — S.  Greg.  Nyss.  Oral.,  i., 
in  Christi.  Res.  t.  iii.,  p.  389,  add.  S.  Cypr.,  Ep.  63, 
ad  Caccil.  Theodoret  in  Ps.  109,  S.  Aug.  de 
Doctr.  Christ,  iv.,  21. 

(55)  Gen.  xlix.,  11,  is  explained  of  the  Passion 
of  Christ  by  Jutsin  M.  Apol.,  1,  p.  74,  ed.  Par., 
Dial.  c.  Tryph.,  p.  273,  Ten  ,  adv.  Marc.,  v.  40,  S. 
Ambr.  de'Jos.,  §  13,  de  bened.  Pat.,  §  24,  S. 
James  of  Edess.  ap.  S.  Ephr.  ad  loc.  (as  v.  12,  is 
by  S.  Jerome  in  Is.,  1,  15,  c.  55),  of  His  Blood, 
Clem.  Al.  Paedag.  1,  i.,  p.  126,  Orig.  Horn.  17  in 
Jud.,  and  by  Orig ,  also  o/  the  Holy  Eucharist,  as 
also  by  S.  Cypr.,Ep.  63,  S.  Aug.  de  Civ.D.,xvi., 
41. 

(56)  That  you  may  eat  the  body  of  the  Lord 
Jesus,  wherein  is  remission  of  sins,  the  implor- 
ing of  Divine  reconciliation  and  everlasting  pro- 


DR.    PUSEY'S  SERMON 


tection."—  S.  Ambr.  in  Ps.  118.  Litt.  8.  §  48 
"He  receiveth  whoexamineth  himself,  but  who 
so  receiveth  shall  not  die  the  sinner's  death,  fo. 
this  Bread  is  the  remission  of  sins."  —  Id.  de  Be 
Bed.  Pair.,  c.  9. 

(57.)  "  This  word  ['  sufficient  Sacrifice']  refers 
to  the  sacrifice  mentioned  before,  for  we  stil 
continue  and  commemorate  that  Sacrifice,  which 
Christ  once  made  upon  the  Cross."  (Notes  from 
the  Collections  of  Bp.  Overall,  ap.  Nicholl's 
Comm.  additional  notes;  see  more  at  length 
Tract  No.  63.)  "  What  then  7  Do  not  we 
[Christians]  daily  offer  '?  We  do  offer,  but  ma- 
king a  Memorial  of  His  Death.  And  this  is  one 
and  not  many.  How  one  and  not  many  1  Be- 
cause it  was  once  offered,  as  was  that  which 
was  brought  into  the  Holy  of  Holies.  This  is 
.a  type  of  that,  and  this  itself  of  that,  For  we  al- 
ways offer  the  Same  (rbv  awrdf);  not  now  one 
animal,  lo-morrow  another,  but  always  the  same 
-thing.  So  then  the  sacrifice  is  one.  Else  since 
at  is  offered  in  many  places,  there  were  many 
Christs.  But  no.  There  is  but  one  Christ  every- 
where, here  fully  and  there  fully,  One  Body. 
As  then  He,  being  offered  in  many  places,  is  One 
Body,  and  not  many  bodies,  so  also  there  is  One 
Sacrifice.  Our  High  Priest  is  He,  Who  offered 
the  Sacrifice  which  cleanseth  us.  That  same 
Sacrifice  which  was  then  also  offered,  we  offer 
now  too,  That,  the  inexhaustible.  For  this  is 
for  a  Memorial  of  That  Which  took  place  then 
For,  He  saith,  'This  do,  as  a  Memorial  of  Me.' 
"We  do  not  make  a  different,  but  always  the  same 
Sacrifice  ;  or  rather,  we  make  a  memorial  of  that 
Sacrifice."—  (S.  Chrys.  Horn.  17  on  Heb.  9,  28. 
•*'  Christ  was  once  offered.") 


(58)  Ad  loc. 

(59)  " 


His  Blood  is  there  received,  His  Flesh 
distributed  to  the  salvation  of  the  people;  His 
Blood  poured  out,  not  now  on  the  hands  of  the 
unbelievers,  but  into  the  mouths  of  the  faithful." 
S.  Greg.,  Dial,  iv.,  58.  "  While  the  blood  in  the 
cup  is  being  poured  out  (KEVOV(J.EVOV')  out  of  the 
undented  Side."—  S.  Chrys.,  de  Prenit.  init.  S. 
Chrys.  also  speaks  of  tongue  redeemed  (0om<r- 
-aofiivr)v)  "  with  the  most  awful  Blood,"  in  S. 
Matth.,  Horn.  82,  §  5,  and  de  Sac.  iii.,  4,  p.  382. 
41  Thou  seest  all  reddened  with  that  precious 
Blood  ;"  and  in  Ps.  140,  §  4,  t.  5,  p.  433.  "  Think 
that  this  [the  tongue]  is  the  member,  whereby 
we  hold  converse  with  God  —  this  the  member 
whereby  we  receive  the  awful  Sacrifice."  Comp. 
Hooker,  (App.)  "  We  are  dyed  red  within  and 
without;"  and  in  Bp.  Wilson,  (App.)  "Seeing 
the  Blood  of  the  true  Paschal  Lamb  upon  your 
lips." 

(60)  The  coal  from  the  altar  is  regarded  as  a 
type  of  the  Holy  Eucharist  by  S.  Chrys.,  in  illud 
Vide  Dom.  Horn.,  5,  §  3,  t.  vi.,  p.  141.  "  And 
what  marvel,  if  ihoustandestwith  the  Seraphim, 
since  those  things  which  the  Seraphim  dared  not 
touch,  these  God  hath  given  thee  with  all  confi- 
dence. For  he  saith,  '  there  was  sent  to  me  one 
of  the  Seraphim,  having  a  coal  of  fire,  which  he 
took  with  the  tongs  from  the  altar.'  That  altar 
is  an  image  and  likeness  of  the  Altar  ;  that  fire, 
of  this  spiritual  fire  ;  but  the  Seraphim  dared  not 
touch  it  with  the  hand,  but  with  the  tongs,  but 
thou  receives!  it  in  the  hsmd.  Were  you  indeed 
to  regard  the  dignity  of  what  is  there  placed  (ruv 
•xpoicet/iEvuv)  it  is  far  too  great  for  the  touch  of 
the  Seraphim—  and  ad  loc.,  §  4,  ib.,  p.  69,  as  the 
exposition  of  others,  when  himself  giving  the  pri- 
mary meaning,  "  Some  say  that  these  things  are 
the  symbols  of  the  Mysteries  which  were  to 


come,  the  Altar,  the  fire  lying  thereon,  the  min- 
istering power,  its  being  placed  in  the  mouth,  the 
cleansing  of  sins."  See  also  de  Poen.  Horn.,  9, 
t.  ii.,  p.  350,  ed.  Ben.  "  Wherefore,  also,  when 
ye  approach,  think  not  that  ye  receive  the  Divine 
Body,  as  from  man,  but  as  from  the  Seraphim 
themselves  with  the  tongs  of  fire  which  Isaias 
saw,  think  that  ye  receive  the  Divine  Body  :  and 
as  touching  with  the  lips  the  Divine  and  Unpol- 
luted Side,  so  let  us  receive  the  Saving  Blood." 
Theodoret,  ad  loc.,  "placing  the  coal  on  the 
mouth  of  the  prophet,  he  declared  to  him  the  re- 
mission of  sin.  But  by  these  things  is  more- 
over described  and  pre-typified  the  participation 
of  our  blessings,  the  remission  of  sins  through 
the  Body  and  Blood  of  the  Lord."  Add.  S. 
Ephr.,  Serm.,  10,  adv.  Scrutat.,  Opp.  Syr.,  t. 
iii.,  p.  23.  S.  James  Doct.,  ap.  S.  Ephr.  Opp., 
ad  loc.,  t.  ii.,  p.  30,  et  al.,  ib.  See  also  lit.  of  S. 
Cyril  (Renaudot.  Liturg.,  torn,  ii.,  49).  Coptic 
(io.,  p.  54).  Renaudot  (p.  195),  mentions  a  sa- 
cred vessel,  in  use  among  the  Greeks  and  Coptf, 
called  hence  the  (ayiaXufJi^)  and  suggests  (ib.,  p. 
323),  that  the  title  spiritual  '  fire,'  frequent  in 
Greek  hymns  on  the  Holy  Eucharist,  refers  to 
this  type  (see  S.  Chrys.,  ab.  p.  16,  and  in  this 
note). 

t'61)  Lit.  of  S.  Chrys.,  p.  83,  ed.  Goav.,  comp. 
Lit.  of  S.  James  Ass.  Cod.  Lit.,  v.  56.  "  The 
Lord  bless  us  and  make  us  worthy  to  take  with 
the  pure  '  tongs'  of  our  hands  the  fiery  coal,  and 
to  place  it  on  the  mouths  of  me  faithful,  for  the 
cleansing  and  purifying  of  their  souls  and  bod- 
ies, now  and  ever." 

(62)  Greek  (Ass.  Cod.  Lit.,  v.  36).     Syriac 
(ib.,  p.  236).    Arminian  (Renaud.,  Lit.  Orr.,  ii., 
127). 

(63)  Greek  (Ass.,  vii.,  32,  33,  58,  104).    Cop- 
tic (141,  2,  ib.). 

(64)  Lit.  of  S.  James  (Ass.,  v.  40).     S.  Mark 
(ib.,  vii.,  60,  Add.  p.  35),  Lit.  of  S.  Gregory  (ib., 
106,  7).     Syriac  (ib.,  190,  1).     Coptic  (ib.,  143, 
4).     Const.  App.,  viii.,  12,  Lit.  of  S.  Chrys., 
Goar.,  p.  77). 

(65)  Lit.  of  S.  James  (Ass.,  v.,  52),  Post 
otnm.  Const.,  Ap.,  viii.,  14,  S.  Basil  from  S. 

James,  Ass.,  vii.,  46,  "  for  the  remission  of  sins, 
!br  the  communication  of  the  Holy  Spirit."  S. 
Mark,  ib.,  vii.,  73.  It  is  retained  in  the  Nesto- 

rian  lit.,  Ren.,  ii.,  634,  "May  Thy  Living  Body, 
3  Lord,  which  we  have  eaten,  and  Thy  pure 
Blood  which  we  have  drunk,  not  be  to  us,  Lord, 
;o  hurt  or  weakness,  but  to  the  expiation  of  of- 
ences  and  blotting  out  of  sins,  Lord  of  all ;"  and 

}.  35  (benediction),  "  To  Him,  Who  expiates  our 

offences  by  His  body,  and  doeth  away  our  sins 
)y  His  Blood,  be  praise  in  His  Church;"  and, 

Gallic-Goth.  Liturg.,  Post  Comm.  (Mabillon  de 
Lit.,  Gall.,  p.  300),  "  Thy  Body  crucified  for  us 
,ve  have  eaten,  and  Thy  Holy  Blood  shed  for 

us  we  have  drunk ;  may  Thy  Holy  Body  be  to 

us  salvation,  and  Thy  Holy  Blood  for  remission 
f  sins  here  and  for  eternal  ages."  Armenian, 

ap.  Ren.,  ii.,  12.     "  Let  not  this  Mystery,  which 

was  instituted  for  our  salvation,  become  to  us  to 
udgment,  but  to  the  abolition  of  our  sins."  &c. 

Miss.  Mixt.  Mozarab.,  p.  233,  ed.  Lesl.  "  Tast- 
ng,  Lord,  the  fulness  of  [Thy]  sweetness,  we 
)ray  that  this  be  to  us  for  the  remission  of  sins 
nd  the  health  of  our  minds;"  and  the  priest  for 
limself,  :<  O  Lord,  my  God,  grant  me  so  to  re- 
eive  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Thy  Son  our  Lord 
esus  Christ,  that  by  It.  I  may  obtain  remission 
f  all  my  sins,  and  be  filled  with  Thy  Holy 

Spirit."    (Ib.,  p.  232.) 


ON   THE  EUCHARIST. 


17 


J50)  Lit.  of  S.  Chrys.  Geor.,  p.  82,  83.  I     (71)  "An  antidote,  whereby  we  may  be  set 

!>7)  Vouchsafe  to  us,  O  Lord  God,  that  our   free  from  sins  of  daily  incursion,  and  preserved 
ies  may  be  sanctified  by  thy  Holy  Body,  and    f™™  ™ — *«'  ~;—  '      c-^<-    ~*"    ~  Q 
our  souls  cleansed  by  thy  propitiating  Blood,  and 


that  it  may  be  to  us  forgiveness  of  our  debts  and 
pardon  of  our  sins."  Supplement  to  Lyriac  Lit- 
urgies, Ass.  v.,  208,  9;  comp.  S.  Empr.  Paroen., 
xi.,  and  Poanit.  Opp.,  t.  iii.,  p.  429.  "Leave  me 
not  in  hell,  most  merciful  Lord,  Who  hast  given 
me  Thy  Body  to  eat,  and  made  me  to  drink  Thy 
Blood,  which  is  life;  through  Thy  Body  may  I 
be  cleansed,  and  through  Thy  Blood  my  tres- 
passes be  forgiven. 

(68)  "  —by  Whose  Flesh,  sanctified  by  Thy- 
self, while  fed,  we  are  strengthened,  and  by  His 
B.'ood,  while  given  us  to  drink,  we  are  washed." 
Gallic.  Sacram.  ap.  Muratori  Lit.  Rom.  Vet.,  p. 
816,  add.  Missale  Gall-Goth,  ap.  Mabillon,  p.  229. 

(69)  Post-Comm.  for  the  Circumcision,  &c.  In 
Uie  Sarum,  York,  and  Hereford  Missals,  daily. 

(70)  3d  Post-Comm.  for  Ash- Wed n.,&c.  Also 
in  the  Preep.  ad.  Miss,  in  the  Breviary,  "Grant 
that  this  holy  foretaste  of  Thy  Body  and  Blood, 
which  I,  unworthy,  look  to  receive,  may  be  the 
perfect  cleansing  of  sins,"  &c.    [A  friend  adds 
the  following:—"  Deliver  me  by  this  Thy  All- 
holy  Body  and  Blood  from  all  mine  iniquities 
and  all  evils;"  prayer  before  communicating, 
(so  also  Sar.,  "all  my  evils;"  York.  Heref,) 
"  Grant  that  I  may  so  worthily  receive  this  All- 
holy  Body  and  Blood  of  Thy  Son  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  that  I  may  be  meet  to  receive  thereby  re- 
mission of  all  my  sins  and  be  filled  with  thy  Ho- 
ly Spirit."     Sar.  Prayer  before  kiss  of  peace. 
"  Grant  us  so  to  receive  this  Body  and  Blood  of 
Thy  Son  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  we  may 
be  meet  to  receive  thereby  remission  of  our 
sins,"  &c.    York  and  Heref.,  ib.     "  By  the  op- 
eration, O  Lord,  of  this  mystery  may  both  our 
offences  (vitia)  be  purged  away,  and  our  good 
desires  brought  to  good  effect."     Post-Comm., 
Vigil  of  Epiph.,  Lent  Ember-Fr.,  Palm-Sunday. 
" Cleansed  from  guilt  [expiati]  by  Thy  Holy 
Mysteries,  O  Lord,  may  we  obtain,  we  beseech 
Thee,  both  pardon  and  grace."   1st  Post-Comm. 
3d  S.  in  Lent.     "May  the  receiving,  O  Lord, 
of  this  Sacrament  cleanse  us  from  our  guilt" 
[ criminej.  Fr.  after  3d,  and  Tu.  after  4th  S.  in 
Lent,  "  a  vitiis  expiates,"  3d  S.  in  Adv.] 

C 


from  mortal  sins.'      Sess.,  xiii.,  c.  3. 
(72)  "  That  forgiveness  of  sins  was  the  chief 


object  of  the  Holy  Eucharist."    Ib.,  can.  3. 

(73)  Ep.  93,  ad  Caesar.,  t.  iii.,  p.  186,  ed.  Ben. 

(74)  "  Hearing  Mass"  in  the  Roman   Com- 
munion.   This  is,  of  course,  said  of  the  general 
declension  of  Communions ;  at  early  Mass,  even 
on  week  days,  the  writer  is  informed  that  there 
are  Communicants,  but  not  to  what  extent. 

(75)  Edw.  VI.,  1st  book.    See  Pref.  to  Tract 
81,  p.  18. 


Jer. 


(76)  i 
r.  En. 


S.  Cyr.  Al.  in  S.  Joh.,  1,  iv.,  p.  351,  S. 
p.  ad.  Hedib,  q.  2,  S.  Aug.  in  Ps.  33,  En.,  i., 
"That  Eternal  Lord,  wherewith  the  An- 
gels are  fed,  Which  is  equal  with  the  Father, 
men  ate,  because  'being  in  the  form  of  God,' 
&c.  The  Angels  are  satisfied  with  Him ;  but  He 
'  so  emptied  himself  that  men  might  eat  Angels' 
food."  On.  Ps.  78,  26. 

(77)  Rubric  after  Communion  Service. 

(78)  One  College,  it  should  be  said,  has,  for 
some  time  past,  restored  weekly  Communion. 

(79)  Archdeacon  Grenville  to  Sir  Wm.  Dug- 
dale,  in  Life  and  Correspondence  of  Sir  William 
Dugdale,  p.  429,  30,  Letter  174,  A.D.  1683.     "  I 
am  informed  that:  his  Grace  my  Lord  of  Canter- 
bury hath  determined  on  the  setting  up  a  weekly 
celebration  of  the  Holy  Communion,  according 
to  the  Rubric,  in  the  Church  of  Canterbury,  and 
that  my  Lord  Archbishop  of  York  is  likewise 
doing  the  same  in  his  Cathedral,  and  that  they 
are  both  writing  letters  to  the  Bishops  within 
their  Provinces,  to  follow  their  example  ;  a  noble 
work  of  piety,  which  will  prove  to  their  ever- 
lasting honour,  and  very  much  facilitate  con- 
formity in  the  land,  which  hath  been  very  much 
wounded  by  the  bad  example  of  Cathedrals, 
which  have  (for  the  most  part)  authorized  the 
breach  of  law,  in  omitting  the  weekly  celebra- 
tion of  the  Eucharist,  which  hath  not  been  con- 
stantly celebrated  on  Sundays  in  any  Cathedral 
but  Christ  Church,  Ely,  and  Worcester."    Arch- 
deacon Grenville  was  a  son-in-law  of  Bishop 
Cosins,  and  "  maintained"  for  many  years  the 

order  which  Bishop  Cosins  had  restored,"  until 
1688,  when  he  resigned  his  preferment,  and  went 
into  exile,"  ib.,  p.  431  and  229,  note.] 


EXTRACTS 


FROM    SOME    WRITERS    IN    OUR    LATER    ENGLISH    CHURCH    ON    THE    DOCTRINE 
OF    THE    HOLY    EUCHARIST. 


HOMILY  ON  THE  SACRAMENT. 

"  Thus  much  we  must  be  sure  to  hold,  that  in 
the  Supper  of  the  Lord  there  is  no  vain  cere- 
mony, no  bare  sign,  no  untrue  figure  of  a  thing 
absent :  Bid,  as  the  Scripture  saith,  the  table  of 
the  Lord,  the  Bread  and  Cup  of  the  Lord,  the  mem- 
ory of  Christ,  the  annunciation  of  his  death,  yea,  tlie 
communion  of  the  Body  and  Blood  of  the  Lord,  in 
a  marvsllvus  incorporation,  which  by  the  operation 
of  the  Holy  G.'iost  (the  vzry  bond  of  our  conjunction 
with  Christ)  is  through  faith  wrought  in  the  souls 
of  Ike  faithful,  whereby  not  only  their  souls  live  to 
eternal  life,  but  they  surely  trust  to  win  their  bodies 
a  resurrection  to  immortality.  The  true  under- 
standing of  the  fruition  and  union,  which  is  be- 
twixt the  Body  and  the  Head,  betwixt  the  true 
believers  and  Christ,  the  ancient  Catholic  Fathers 
both  perceiving  themselves,  and  commending 
to  their  people,  were  not  afraid  to  call  this  Sup- 
per, some  of  them,  the  salve  of  immortality  and 
sovereign  preservative  against  death ;  other,  a 
deificar  communion;  other,  the  sweet  dainties 
of  our  Saviour,  the  pledge  of  eternal  health,  the 
defence  of  our  faith,  the  hope  of  the  resurrection ; 
other,  the  food  of  immortality,  the  healthful  grace, 
and  the  conservatory  to  everlasting  life." 

"  It  is  well  known  that  the  meat  we  seek  for 
in  this  Supper,  is  spiritual  food,  the  nourishment 
of  our  soul,  a  heavenly  refection,  and  not  earth- 
ly; an  invisible  meat,  and  not  bodily;  a  ghostly 
substance,  and  not  carnal;  so  that  to  think  that 
•without  faith  we  may  enjoy  the  eating  and  drink- 
ing thereof,  or  that  that  is  the  fruition  of  it,  is  but 
to  dream  a  gross  carnal  feeding,  basely  objecting 
and  binding  ourselves  to  the  elements  and  crea- 
tures. Whereas,  by  the  advice  of  the  Council 
of  Nicene,  we  ought  to  lift  up  our  minds  by  faith, 
and,  leaving  these  inferior  and  earthly  things, 
there  seek  it,  where  the  Sun  of  righteousness  ever 
shineth.  Take  then  this  lesson,  O  thou  that  art 
desirous  of  this  Table,  of  Emissenus,  a  goodly 
father,  that  when  thou  goest  up  to  the  reverend 
Communion,  to  be  satisfied  with  spiritual  meats, 
thou  look  up  with  faith  upon  the  holy  Body  and 
Blood  of  thy  God,  thou  marvel  with  reverence, 
thou  touch  it  with  the  mind,  thou  receive  it  with 
the  hand  of  thy  heart,  and  thou  take  it  fully  with 
thy  inward  man." 

BISHOP  RIDLEY. 

"  Both  you  and  I  agree  herein,  that  in  the  Sac- 
rament is  the  very,  true,  and  natural  Body  and 
Blood  of  Christ;  even  that  Which  was  born  of 
the  Virgin  Mary;  Which  ascended  into  heaven  ; 
Which  sits  on  the  right  hand  of  God  the  Father; 
Which  shall  come  from  thence  to  judge  the  quick 
and  the  dead  ;  only  we  differ  in  modo,  in  the  way 
and  manner  of  being.  We  confess  all  one  thing 
to  be  the  Sacrament,  and  dissent  in  the  manner 
of  being  there.  I,  being  by  God's  word  fully 
thereunto  persuaded,  confess  Christ's  natural 


Body  to  be  in  the  Sacrament  indeed  by  spirit 
and  grace,  because  that  whosoever  receiveth 
worthily  that  Bread  and  Wine,  receiveth  effectu- 
ally Christ's  Body  and  drinketh  His  Blood  (that 
is,  he  is  made  effectually  partaker  of  His  pas- 
sion) ;  and  you  make  a  grosser  kind  of  being  en- 
closing a  natural,  a  lively,  and  a  moving  body, 
under  the  shape  or  form  of  Bread  and  Wine. 
Now  this  difference  considered,  to  the  question, 
thus  I  answer,  that  in  the  Sacrament  of  the  Altar 
is  the  natural  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  vere  e& 
realiter,  indeed  and  really,  for  spiritually  by  grace 
and  efficacy ;  for  so  every  worthy  receiver  re- 
ceiveth the  very  true  Body  of  Christ.  But  if  you, 
mean  really  and  indeed,  so  that  thereby  you 
would  include  a  lively  and  a  movable  body  un- 
der the  forms  of  bread  and  wine,  then,  in  that 
sense,  is  not  Christ's  Body  in  the  Sacrament 
really  and  indeed! 

"Always  my  protestation  reserved.  I  answer 
thus :  that  in  the  Sacrament  is  a  certain  change  in 
that  that  Bread  which  was  before  common  bread,is 
now  made  a  lively  presentation  of  Christ's  Body, 
and  not  only  a  figure,  buteffectuously  represent- 
eth  His  Body  ;  that  even  as  the  mortal  body  was 
nourished  by  that  visible  bread,  so  is  the  internal 
soul  fed  with  the  heavenly  food  of  Christ's  Body, 
which  the  eyes  of  faith  see,  as  the  bodily  eyes 
see  only  bread.  Such  a  Sacramental  mutation 
I  grant  to  be  in  the  Bread  and  Wine,  which  truly 
is  no  small  change,  but  such  a  change  as  no 
mortal  man  can  make,  but  only  that  omnipoten- 
cy  of  Christ's  word.—  Works,  edit.  1813,  p.  274. 

"  Think  not  because  I  disallow  that  presence 
which  the  first  proposition  rnaintaineth  (as  a  pres- 
ence which  I  take  to  be  forged,  phantastical,  and 
beside  the  authority  of  God's  word,  perniciously 
brought  into  the  Church  by  the  Romanists),  that 
I  therefore  go  about  to  take  away  the  true  pres- 
ence of  Christ's  Body  in  His  Supper  rightly  and 
duly  ministered,  which  is  grounded  on  the  word 
of  God,  and  made  more  plain  by  the  commenta- 
ries of  the  faithful  Fathers.  They  that  think  so 
of  me,  the  Lord  knoweth  how  far  they  are  de- 
ceived. And  to  make  the  same  evident  unto  you, 
I  will  in  a  few  words  declare  what  True  Presence 
of  Christ's  Body  in  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
Supper  I  hold  and  affirm,  with  the  word  of  God, 
and  the  ancient  Fathers. 

"  I  say  and  confess  with  the  Evangelist  Luke,, 
and  with  the  Apostle  Paul  that  the  Bread  on  the 
which  thanks  are  given  is  the  Body  of  Christ  in 
the  remembrance  of  Him  and  His  death,  to  be 
set  forth  perpetually  of  the  faithful  until  his  com- 
ing. 

"  I  say  and  confess  the  Bread  which  we  break 
to  be  the  communion  and  partaking  of  Christ's 
Body  with  the  ancient  ami  the  faithful  Fathers. 

"  I  say  and  believe,  that  there  is  not  only  a 
signification  of  Christ's  Body  set  forth  by  the 
Sacrament,  but  also  that  therewith  is  given  to  the 
godly  and  faithful  the  grace  of  Christ's  Body,  that 


ON  THE  EUCHARIST. 


19 


Is,  the  food  of  life  and  immortality,  and  this  I 
hold  with  Cyprian. 

"  I  say  also  with  St.  Augustine,  that  we  eat  life 
and  we  drink  life;  with  Emissene,  that  we  feel 
the  Lord  to  be  present  in  grace ;  with  Athanasius, 
that  we  receive  celestial  food  which  cometh  from 
above;  the  property  of  natural  communion,  with 
Hilary;*  the  nature  of  flesh  and  benediction 
which  giveth  life,  in  Bread  and  Wine,  with  Cyril ; 
and  with  the  same  Cyrilt,  the  virtue  of  the  very 
Flesh  of  Christ,  life  and  grace  of  His  Body,  the 
property  of  the  Only  Begotten,  that  is  to  say,  life 
as  He  Himself  in  plain  words  expounded  it. 

"  J  confess  also  with  Basil,  that  we  receive  the 
mystical  advent  and  coming  of  Christ,  grace,  and 
and  the  virtue  of  his  very  nature  ;  the  Sacrament 
of  His  very  Flesh,  with  Ambrose:  the  Body  by 
grace  with  Epiphanius;  spiritual  Flesh,  but  not 
that  which  was  crucified,  with  Jerome;  grace 
growing  into  a  sacrifice,  and  the  grace  of  the 
Spirit,  with  Chrysostom ;  grace  and  invisible 
verity,  grace  and  society  of  the  members  of 
Christ's  Body,  with  Augustine. 

"Finally  with  Bertram,  (who  was  the  last  of 
all  these),  I  confess  that  Christ's  Body  is  in  the 
Sacrament  in  this  respect,  namely,  as  he  writeth, 
because  there  is  in  it  the  spirit  of  Christ,  that  is, 
the  power  of  the  Word  of  God,  which  not  only 
feedeth  the  soul,  but  also  cleanseth  it.  Out  of 
these  I  suppose  it  may  clearly  appear  unto  all 
men,  how  far  we  are  from  that  opinion,  whereof 
some  go  about  falsely  to  slander  us  to  the  world, 
saying,  we  teach  that  the  godly  and  faithful 
should  receive  nothing  else  at  the  Lord's  table, 
but  a  figure  of  the  Body  of  Christ."  P.  201,  202. 

BISHOP  BILSON  (GlUOTED  BY  BISHOP 
MONTAGU.) 

"The  disagreement  is  only  in  de  modo  proesen- 
tise,  the  thing  is  yielded  to  on  either  side,  and 
there  is  in  the  Holy  Eucharist  a  real  Presence. 
*God  forbid,'  saith  Bishop  Bilson,  '  we  should 
deny  that  the  Flesh  and  Blood  of  Christ  are  truly 
present  and  truly  received  of  the  faithful  at  the 
Lord's  table.  It  is  the  doctrine  that  we  teach 
others,  and  comfort  ourselves  withal."  (P.  1779 
of  the  subject.}  Appeal,  30  init.,  p.  289.  See  also 
Bp.  White  below,  p.  57. 

HOOKER. 

"Being  assembled  for  no  other  cause  which 
they  could  imagine  but  to  have  eaten  the  Pass- 
over only  that  Moses  appointeth,  when  they 
saw  their  Lord  and  Master  with  hands  and 
eyes  lifted  up  to  heaven  first  bless  and  conse- 
crate for  the  endless  good  of  all  generations  till 
the  world's  end  the  chosen  elements  of  Bread 
and  Wine,  which  elements  made  forever  the  in- 
struments of  life  by  virtue  of  His  Divine  bene- 
diction, they  being  the  first  that  were  command- 
ed to  receive  from  Him,  the  first  which  were 
warranted  by  His  promise  that  not  only  unto 
them  at  the  present  time,  but  to  whomsoever 
they  and  their  successors  after  them  did  duly  ad- 
minister the  same,  those  mysteries  should  serve 
as  conducts  of  life  and  conveyances  of  His  Body 
and  Blood  unto  them,  was  it  possible  they  should 
hear  that  voice,  'Take,  eat,  this  is  My  Body; 
drink  ye  all  of  this,  this  is  my  blood;'  possible 
that  doing  what  was  required,  and  believing 
what  was  promised,  the  same  should  have  pres- 
ent effect  in  them,  and  not  fill  thenj  with  a  kind 
of  fearful  admiration  at  the  heaven  which  they 
saw  in  themselves  1  They  had  at  that  time  a 


*  The  passage  quoted  at  more  length  in  the  Sermon,  p.  13. 
t  See  Sermon,  p.  7,  n.  i.,  &c. 


sea  of  comfrrt  and  joy  to  wade  in,  and  we,  by 
that  which  they  did,  are  taught  that  this  heaven- 
ly food  is  given  for  the  satisfying  of  our  empty 
souls,  and  not  for  the  exercising  of  our  curious 
and  subtle  wits." 

"  If  we  doubt  what  those  admirable  words  may 
import,  let  him  be  our  teacher  for  the  meaning 
of  Christ  to  whom  Christ  was  Himself  a  school- 
master, let  our  Lord's  Apostle  be  his  interpreter, 
content  we  ourselves  with  His  explication,  My 
Body  the  Communion  of  My  Body,  My  Blood  the 
Communion  of  Mi/  Blood.  1  s  t  he  re  a  n  y  t  h  i  n  g  m  o  re 
expedite,  clear,  and  easy,  than  that  as  Christ  is 
termed  our  Life,  because  through  him  we  obtain 
life,  so  the  parts  of  this  Sacrament  are  His  Body 
and  Blood,  for  that  they  are  so  to  us  who  receiv- 
ing them  receive  that  by  them  which  they  are 
termed  1  The  Bread  and  Cup  are  His  Body 
and  Blood,  because  they  are  causes  instrumental, 
upon  the  receipt  whereof  the  participation  of  His 
Body  and  Blood  ensueih.  For  that  which  pro- 
duceth  any  certain  effect  is  not  vainly  nor  improp 
erly  said  to  be  that  effect  whereunto  it  tendeth. 
Every  cause  is  in  the  effect  which  groweth  from 
it.  Our  souls  and  bodies  quickened  to  eternal 
life  are  effects,  the  cause  whereof  is  the  Person, 
of  Christ,  His  Body  and  Blood  are  the  true  well- 
spring  out  of  which  this  life  floweth.  So  that 
His  Body  and  Blood  are  in  that  very  subject 
whereunto  they  minister  life  not  only  by  effector 
operation,  even  as  the  influence  of  the  heavens 
is  in  plants,  beasts,  men,  and  in  everything  which, 
they  quicken,  but  also  by  a  far  more  divine  and 
mystical  bond  of  union,  which  maketh  us  one 
with  Him  even  as  he  and  the  Father  are  one." 
— Book  v.,  chap.  Ixvii.,  §  4,  5. 

"It  is  on  all  sides  plainly  confessed,  first,  that 
this  Sacrament  is  a  true  and  a  real  participation 
of  Christ,  who  thereby  imparteth  Himself,  even 
His  whole  entire  Person,  as  amystical  Head  into 
every  soul  that  receiveth  Him,  and  that  every 
such  receiver  doth  thereby  incorporate  or  unite 
himself  unto  Christ  as  a  mystical  member  of  Him, 
yea,  of  them  also  whom  He  acknowledgeth  to  be 
His  own ;  secondly,  that  to  whom  the  Person  of 
Christ  is  thus  communicated,  to  them  He  giveth, 
by  the  same  Sacrament  His  Holy  Spirit  to  sanc- 
tify them  as  it  sanctifieth  Him  which  is  their 
Head;  thirdly,  that  what  merit. force,  or  virtue  so- 
ever  there  is  in  His  sacrificed  Body  and  Blood,  we 
freely,  fully,  and  wholly  have  it  by  this  Sacra- 
ment; fourthly,  that  the  effect  thereof  in  vs  is  a 
real  transmutation  of  our  souls  and  bodies  from  sin 
to  righteousness,  from  death  and  corruption  to 
immortality  and  life;  fifthly,  that  because  the 
Sacrament  being  of  itself  but  a  corruptible  and 
earthly  creature,  must  needs  be  thought  an  un- 
likely instrument  to  work  so  admiral  le  effects  in 
man,  we  are  therefore  to  rest  ourselves  altogeth- 
er upon  the  strength  of  His  glorious  power,  Who  is 
able  and  will  bring  to  pass,  that  the  Bread  and 
Cup  which  he  giveth  us  shall  be  truly  the  thing 
He  promiseth. 

"  It  seemeth,  therefore,  much  amiss  that, 
against  them  whom  they  term  Saeramentaries, 
so  many  invective  discourses  are  made  all  run- 
ning upon  two  points,  that  the  Eucharist  is  not 
a  bare  sign  or  figure  only,  and  that  the  efficacy 
of  his  Body  and  Blood  is  not  all  we  receive  in 
this  Sacrament.  For  no  man,  having  read  their 
hooks  and  writings  which  are  thus  traduced, 
can  he  ignorant  that  both  these  assertions  they 
plainly  confess  to  be  most  true.  They  do  not 
so  interpret  the  words  of  Christ,  as  if  the  name 
of  his  Body  did  import  but  the  figure  of  his 


20 


DR.   PUSEY'S   SERMON 


Body,  and  to  be  were  only  to  signify  his  Blood. 
They  grant  that  these  holy  mysteries,  received 
in  due  manner,  do  instrumentally  both  make  us 
partakers  of  the  grace  of  that  Body  and  Blood 
which  were  given  for  the  life  of  the  world,  and 
besides,  also,  impart  unto  us  even  in  true  and 
real,  though  mystical  manner,  the  very  person 
of  our  Lord  himself,  whole,  perfect,  and  entire, 
as  hath  been  showed  " — Book  v.,  c.  Ixvii.,  p.  7,  8. 
"  He  which  hath  said  of  the  one  Sacrament, 
'  Wash,  and  be  clean,'  hath  said  concerning  the 
other  likewise,  'Eat  and  live.'  If,  therefore^ 
without  any  such  particular  and  solemn  warrant 
as  this  is,  that  poor,  distressed  woman  coming 
unto  Christ  for  health  could  so  constantly  re- 
solve herself,  '  May  I  but  touch  the  skirt  of  His 
garment  I  shall  be  whole,'  what  moveth  us  to 
argue  of  the  manner  how  life  should  come  by 
bread,  our  duty  being  here  but  to  take  what  is 
offered,  and  most  assuredly  to  rest  persuaded  of 
this,  that  can  we  but  eat  we  are  safe  ?  When 
I  behold  with  mine  eyes  some  small  and  scarce 
discernible  grain  or  seed  whereof  nature  maketh 
promise  that  a  tree  shall  come,  and  when  after- 
ward, of  that  tree,  any  skilful  artificer  underta- 
keth  to  frame  some  exquisite  and  curious  work, 
I  look  for  the  event,  I  move  no  question  about 
performance,  either  of  the  one  or  of  the  other. 
Shall  I  simply  credit  nature  in  things  natural, 
shall  I  in  things  artificial  rely  myself  on  art, 
never  offering  to  make  doubt,  and  in  that  which 
is  above  both  art  and  nature  refuse  to  believe 
the  Author  of  both,  except  He  acquaint  me  with 
His  skill  before  me  1  Where  God  himself  doth 
speak  those  things  which,  either  for  height 
and  sut/iimity  of  matter,  or  else  for  secresy 
of  performance  we  are  not  able  to  reach 
unto,  as  we  may  be  ignorant  without  danger, 
so  it  can  be  no  disgrace  to  confess  we  are  igno- 
rant. Such  as  love  piety  will  as  much  as  in 
them  lieth  know  all  things  that  God  command- 
eth,  but  especially  the  duties  of  service  which 
they  owe  to  God.  As  for  His  dark  and  hidden 
works,  they  prefer  as  becometh  them  in  such 
cases,  simplicity  of  faith  before  that  knowledge, 
which  curiously  sifting  what  it  should  adore,  and 
disputing  too  boldly  of  that  which  the  wit  of 
man  cannot  search,  ehilleth  for  the  most  part  all 
warmth  of  zeal,  and  bringeth  soundness  of  belief 
many  times  into  great  hazard.  Let  it  there- 
fore be  sufficient  for  me,  presenting  myself  at 
the  Lord's  Table,  to  know  what  there  I  receive 
from  Him,  without  searching  or  inquiring  of  the 
manner  how  Christ  performeth  His  promise ; 
let  disputes  and  questions,  enemies  to  piety, 
abatements  of  true  devotion,  and  hitherto  in 
this  cause  but  over  patiently  heard,  let  them 
take  their  rest :  let  curious  and  sharpwitted 
men  beat  their  heads  about  what  questions 
themselves  will,  the  very  letter  of  the  word  of 
Christ  giveth  plain  security  that  these  mys- 
teries do  as  nails  fasten  us  to  His  very  Cross, 
that  by  them  we  draw  out,  as  touching  effica- 
cy, force,  and  virtue,  even  the  blood  of  His 
gored  side,  in  the  wounds  of  our  Redeemer,  we 
there  dip  our  tongues,  we  are  dyed  red  both 
within  and  without,  our  hunger  is  satisfied  and 
our  thirst  for  ever  quenched ;  they  are  things 
wonderful  which  he  feeleth,  great  which  he 
seeth,  and  unheard  of  which  he  uttereth,  whose 
soul  is  possessed  of  the  Paschal  Lamb  and 
made  joyful  in  the  strength  of  this  new  Wine, 


this  Bread  hath  in  it  more  than  the  substance 
which  our  eyes  behold,  this  Cup  hallowed  with 
solemn  benediction  availeth  to  the  endless  life 
and  welfare  both  of  soul  and  body,  in  that  it 
serveth  as  well  for  a  medicine  to  heal  our  in- 
firmities and  purge  our  sins  as  for  a  sacrifice  of 
thanksgiving,  with  touching  it  sanctifieth,  it  en- 
lighteneth  with  belief,  it  truly  conformeth  us 
unto  the  image  of  Jesus  Christ ;  what  these  el- 
ements are  in  themselves  it  skilleth  not,  it  is 
enough  that  to  me  which  take  them  they  are  the 
Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,  His  promise  in  wit- 
ness hereof  surficeth,  His  word  He  knoweth 
which  way  to  accomplish ;  why  should  any  cogi- 
tation possess  the  mind  of  a  faithful  communi- 
cant but  this,  Oh,  my  God,  Thou  art  true,  oh,  my 
soul,  thouart  happy !" — Book  v.,  chap.  Ixvii.,  §  12. 
"The  power  of  the  ministry  of  GOD  transla- 
teth  out  of  darkness  into  glory  ;  it  raiseth  man 
from  the  earth,  and  bringeth  GOD  Himself  down 
from  heaven  :  by  blessing  visible  elements  it 
maketh  them  invisible  grace ;  it  giveth  daily  the 
Holy  Ghost ;  it  hath  to  dispose  of  that  Flesh 
which  was  given  for  the  life  of  the  world,  and 
that  Blood  which  was  poured  out  to  redeem 
souls  ;  when  it  poureth  malediction  upon  the 
heads  of  the  wicked,  they  perish;  when  it  re- 
voketh  the  same,  they  revive.  Oh  wretched 
blindness,  if  we  admire  not  so  great  power; 
more  wretched  if  we  consider  it  aright,  and, 
notwithstanding,  imagine  that  any  but  God  can 
bestow  it !  To  whom  Christ  hath  imparted 
power,  both  over  that  mystical  body  which  is 
the  society  of  souls,  and  over  that  natural  which 
is  Himself,  for  the  knitting  of  both  in  one  (a 
work  which  antiquity  doth  call  the  making  of 
Christ's  Body),  the  same  power  is  in  such  not 
amiss  both  termed  a  kind  of  mark  or  character, 
and  acknowledged  to  be  indelible." — Book  v., 
chap.  Ixxvi.,  §  8). 

BISHOP  OVERALL. 

"  So  to  eat  the  Flesh  of  Thy  dear  Son  Jesus 
Christ,  and  to  drink  his  Blood].  By  this  it  may 
be  known  what  our  Church  believeth,  and  teach- 
eth  of  the  Presence  of  Christ's  Body  and  Blood 
in  the  Sacrament.  And  though  our  new  mas- 
ters would  make  the  world  believe  she  had  an- 
other mind,  yet  we  are  not  to  follow  their  pri- 
vate fancies,  when  we  have  so  plain  and  so 
public  a  doctrine  as  this." 

"  That  we  receiving  these  Thy  creatures  Bread 
and  Wine,  4-c.,  may  be  partakers  of  His  blessed 
Body  and  Blood].  Together  with  the  hallowed 
elements  of  the  Bread  and  Wine,  we  may  re- 
ceive the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,  which 
are  truly  exhibited  in  this  Sacrament,  the  one  as 
well  as  the  other. 

14  These  words,  as  I  once  conferred  with  a 
Papist,  were  mightily  excepted  against,  because, 
forsooth,  they  must  acknowledge  no  Bread  and 
Wine,  but  a  desition  of  the  nature  and  being  of 
both.  My  answer  was,  that  here  we  term  them 
so  before  consecration  ;  after  that  we  call  them 
so  no  more,  but  abstain  from  that  name,  because 
our  thoughts  might  be  wholly  taken  up  with  the 
spiritual  food  of  Christ's  Body  and  Blood.  So 
in  the  Thanksgiving  following  we  say  That  thou 
•vouchsafed  l»  feed  us  with  these  Holy  Mysteries, 
and  the  Spiritual  food  of  the  Body  and  ttlood  of 
thy  Son,  <$>c.  In  the  mean  while,  we  deny  not 
the  Bread  and  Wme  remain  there  still  as  God's 


ON  THE   EUCHARIST. 


21 


creatures.  And  I  wonder  the  Papists  shoujc 
so  contend  for  this  same  desitio  panis  el  mni 
whenas  in  their  own  service  or  mass  they  ab- 
stain not  from  these  words,  THY  CREATURES,  after 
consecration,  as  we  do.  See  the  book,  PER  QUEM 
OMNIA  DOMING  BONE  CREAS  !  A  certain  argu- 
ment that  the  Church  of  Rome  never  meant  to 
teach  that  doctrine,  which  private  men,  the  late 
doctors  and  schoolmen,  have  brought  up  and 
propagated. 

"  These  holy  Mysteries  were  the  spiritual  food 
of  the  most  precious  Body  and  Blood,  &c.]  Be- 
fore consecration,  we  called  them  God's  crea 
tures  of  Bread  and  Wine,  now  we  do  so  no 
more  after  consecration  ;  wherein  we  have  the 
advantage  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  who  call 
them  still  creatures  in  their  very  mass  after 
consecration  ;  and  yet  they  will  be  upbraiding 
us  for  denying  the  Real  Presence,  when  as  we 
believe  better  than  they  ;  for  after  consecration 
we  think  no  more  of  Bread  and  Wine,  but  have 
our  thoughts  taken  up  wholly  with  the  Body  of 
Christ;  and  therefore  we  keep  ourselves  to 
these  words  only,  abstaining  from  the  other 
(though  the  Bread  remain  there  still,  to  the  eye), 
which  they  do  not.  And  herein  we  follow  the 
Fathers,  who  after  consecration  would  not  suf- 
fer it  to  be  called  Bread  and  Wine  any  longer, 
but  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ. 

"  Very  Members  Incorporate  ]  So  Cyril,  in 
Catech.  Myst.,  4.  Sumpto  Corpore  ct  Sanguine 
Christi  ait  nos  fieri  avaau^iovg,  i.  e.,  ejusdem  Car- 
peris  turn  Chnsto,  et  inter  nos  ovvaifj.ovf,  i.  e., 
ejusdem  Sanguinis. 

"And  be  also  heirs  through  hope.'"]  So  the 
ancient  Fathers  were  wont  to  prove  the  article 
of  our  resurrection  by  the  nature  of  this  very 
Sacrament.  They  use  this  reason  to  exhort 
the  people  unto  the  frequent  receiving  of  the 
Holy  Communion  ;  because  they  say  it  is  Oaf- 
fj.aK.ov  uOavaciac,  Medicamentum  Immortalitatis  ct 
Antidotum,  TO  nrfKavelv,  An  Antidote  not  to  die ; 
which  if  the  men  of  this  age  would  but  set  their 
hearts  on,  as  they  did,  we  should  not  have  them 
set  so  slightly  by  the  Sacrament  as  they  do." 

"  Bread  and  Wine.]  It  is  confessed  by  all 
Divines,  that  upon  the  words  of  the  Consecra- 
tion, the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  is  really  and 
substantially  present,  and  so  exhibited  and  giv- 
en to  all  who  receive  it,  and  all  this  not  after  a 
physical  and  sensual,  but  after  a  heavenly  and 
incomprehensible  manner.  But  their  yet  re- 
mains this  controversy  among  some  of  them, 
whether  the  Body  of  Christ  be  present  only  in 
the  use  of  the  Sacrament,  and  in  the  act  of  eat- 
ing, and  not  otherwise.  They  that  hold  the  af- 
firmative, as  the  Lutherans  (in  Confess.  Sax.), 
and  all  Calvinists,  do  seem  to  me  to  depart  from 
all  antiquity,  which  place  the  presence  of  Christ 
in  the  virtne  and  benediction  used  by  the  Priest, 
and  not  in  the  use  of  eating  the  Sacrament. 
And  this  did  most  Protestants  grant  and  pro- 
fess at  first,  though  now  the  Calvinists  make 
Popish  magic  of  it  in  their  licentions  blasphe- 
my."— Additional  Notes  to  the  Book  of  Common 
Prayer. 

"  What  is  the  imvard  part  or  thing  signified  ?] 
I  cannot  see  where  any  real  difference  is  be- 
twixt us  about  this  Real  Presence,  if  we  could 
give  over  the  study  of  contradiction,  and  un- 
derstand one  another  aright." — Catechism. 

"  In  the  Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist,  or  the 


Lord's  Supper,  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ, 
and  therefore  the  whole  of  Christ  is  verily  and 
indeed  present,  and  is  verily  partaken  by  us, 
and  verily  combined  with  the  Sacramental 
signs,  as  being  not  only  significative,  but  exhib- 
itory ;  so  that  in  the  Bread  duly  given  and  re- 
ceived, the  Body  of  Christ  is  given  and  receiv- 
ed ;  in  the  Wine  given  and  received,  the  Blood 
of  Christ  is  given  and  received  ;  and  thus  there 
is  a  communion  of  the  whole  of  Christ  in  the 
Communion  of  the  Sacrament." 

Probably,  had  Overall  lived  before  the  tenth 
century,  he  would  have  thought  he  had  suffi- 
ciently stated  his  belief  in  the  above  expres- 
sions ;  but  placed  as  he  was  in  other  circum- 
stances, it  was  expedient  for  him,  not  only  to 
maintain  ancient  truth,  but  to  protest  against 
erroneous  innovation  :  he  therefore  added  these 
words  : 

"  Yet  not  in  any  bodily,  gross,  earthly  man- 
ner, as  by  transubstantiation,  or  consubstantia- 
tion,  or  any  like  devices  of  human  reason,  but 
in  a  mystical,  heavenly,  and  spiritual  manner, 
as  is  rightly  laid  down  in  our  Articles."— (As 
quoted  and  translated  in  Knox's  Remains,  vol.  ii., 
p.  163. 

BISHOP  MORTON. 

"  The  question  is  not  absolutely  concerning 
a  Real  Presence,  which  Protestants  (as  their 
own  Jesuits  witness)  do  also  profess.  .  .  Which 
acknowledgment  of  our  adversaries  may  serve 
to  stay  the  contrary  clamours  and  calumnious 
accusations,  wherein  they  used  to  range  Prot- 
estants with  those  heretics  who  denied  that  the 
true  Body  of  Christ  was  in  the  Eucharist,  and 
naintained  only  a  figure  and  image  of  Christ's 
Body,  seeing  that  our  difference  is  not  about 
the  truth  or  reality  of  presence,  but  about  the 
true  manner  of  the  being  and  receiving  there- 
of."— Catholic  Appeal,  p.  93,  ed.  1610. 

BISHOP  ANDREWS. 

'  The  Cardinal  is  not,  unless,  '  willingly,  ig- 
norant,' that   Christ   hath  said,  '  This  is   My 
3ody,'  not  '  This  is  not  My  Body,  in  this  mode* 
\Tow  about  the  object  we  are  both  agreed  ;  all 
he  controversy  is  about  the  mode.     The  '  This 
s,'  we  firmly  believe  ;  that  'it  is  in  this  mode' 
the  Bread,  namely,  being  transubstantiated  into 
he  Body),  or  of  the  mode  whereby  it  is  wrought 
hat  '  it  is,'  whether,  in  or  with,  or  under,  or 
ransubstantiated,  there  is  not  a  word   in  the 
rospel.     And  because  not  a  word  is  there,  we 
ghtly  detach  it  from  being  a  matter  of  faith ;  we 
may  place  it  among  the  decrees  of  the  schools, 
not  among  the  articles  of  faith.     What  Duran- 
us  is  reported  to  have  said  of  old  (Neand.  Sy- 
lop.  Chron.,  p.  203,)  we  approve  of.     'We  hear 
he  word,  feel  the  effect,  know  not  the  manner, 
>elieve  the  presence.'    The  presence,  I  say,  we 
elieve,  and  that  no  less  true  than  yourselves. 
Of  the  mode  of  the  Presence,  we  define  nothing 
ashly,  nor,  I  add,  do  we  curiously  inquire ;  no 
more  than  how  the  Blood  of  Christ  cleanseth  us 
n  our  Baptism ;  no  more  than  how  in  the  In- 
•arnation  of  Christ  the  human  nature  is  united 
rito  the  same  Person  with  the  Divine.     We 
ank  it  among  Mysteries,  (and  indeed  the  Eucha- 
ist  itself  is  a  mystery,)  '  that  which  remaineth 
)ught  to  be  burned  with  fire'  (Ex.,  xii.,  13),  that 
s,  as  the  Fathers  elegantly  express  it,  to  be 


DR.   PUSEY'S   SERMON 


adored  by  faith,  not  examined  by  reason." — 
Answer  to  Bellarminc,  c.  i.,  p.  11. 

"  To  conclude  ;  not  only  thus  to  frame  medi- 
tations and  resolutions,  but  even  some  practice 
too,  out  of  this  act  of  'apprehension.'  It  is 
very  agreeable  to  reason,  saith  the  Apostle,  that 
we  endeavour  and  make  a  proffer,  if  we  may  by 
any  means  to  'apprehend'  Him  in  His,  by 
Whom  we  are  thus  in  our  nature  '  apprehend- 
ed,' or,  as  he  termeth  it,  '  comprehended,'  even 
Christ  Jesus  ;  and  be  united  to  Him  this  day,  as 
He  was  to  us  this  day,  by  a  mutual  and  recip- 
rocal '  apprehension.'  We  may  so,  and  we  are 
bound  so  ;  vere  dignum  et  jus  turn  est.  And  we 
do  so,  so  oft  as  we  do  with  St.  James  lay  hold 
of,  '  apprehend,'  or  receive  insitum  Verbum,  the 

*  Word  which  is  daily  grafted  into  us.'      For 

*  the  Word'  He  is,  and  in  the  Word  He  is  re- 
ceived by  us.     But  that  is  not  the  proper  of 
this  day,  unless  there  be  another  joined  unto  it. 
This  day  Verbum  caro  factum  esl,  and  so  must 
be  '  apprehended'  in  both.     But  specially  in  His 
flesh  as  this  day  giveth  it,  as  this  day  would 
have  us.  Now, '  the  bread  which  we  break,  is  not 
the  partaking  of  the  Body,  of  the  Flesh,  of  Jesus 
Christ  V     It  is  purely  ;  and  by  it,  and  by  no- 
thing more,  are  we  made  partakers  of  this  bless- 
ed union.    A  little  before  He  said, '  Because  the 
children  were  partakers  of  flesh  and  blood,  He 
also  would  take  part  with  them.'    May  not  we 
say  the  same  1  Because  he  hath  so  done,  taken 
ours  of  us,  we  also  ensuing  His  steps  will  par- 
ticipate with  him,  and  with  His  Flesh  which  He 
hath  taken  of  us.    It  is  most  kindly  to  take  part 
with  Him  in  that  which  He  took  part  in  with 
us,  and  that,  to  no  other  end,  but  that  he  might 
make  the  receiving  of  it  by  us  a  means  where- 
by He  might  '  dwell  in  us,  and  .we  in  him ;'  He 
taking  our  flesh,  and  we  receiving  His  Spirit ; 
by  His  flesh  which  He  took  of  us  receiving  His 
Spirit  which  He  imparted  to  us  ;  that,  as  He  by 
ours  became  consors  humana  naturcB,so  we  by  His 
might  become  consortes  Divines  hitmance,  '  par- 
takers of  the  Divine  nature."    Verily  it  is  the 
most  straight  and  perfect  '  taking  hold'  that  is. 
No  union  so  knitteth  as  it.     Not  consanguini- 
ty ;  brethren  fall  out.     Not  marriage  ;  man  and 
wife  are  severed.    But  that  which  is  nourished, 
and  the   nourishment  wherewith — they  never 
are,  never  can  be  severed,  but  remain  one  for 
ever.     With  this  act  then  of  mutual  '  taking,' 
taking  of  His  flesh  as  He  hath  taken  ours,  let 
us  seal  our  duty  to  Him  this  day,  for  taking  not 

*  Angels,'  but  '  the  seed  of  Abraham.'  " — Serm. 
1.  on  Nativity,  Works,  vol.  i.,  p   16. 

"He  is  given  us,  as  Himself  saith,  as 'the 
living  Bread  from  Heaven,'  which  Bread  is  His 

*  flesh'  born  this  day,  and  after  '  given  for  the 
life  of  the  world.'    For  look  how  we  do  give 
back  that  He  gave  us,  even  so  doth  He  give 
back  to  us  that  which  we  gave  Him,  that  which 
he  had  of  us.     This  He  gave  for  us  in  Sacrifice, 
and  this  He  giveth  us  in  the  Sacrament,  that 
the  Sacrifice  may  by  the  Sacrament  be  truly  ap- 
plied to  us.     And  let  me  commend  this  to  you : 
He  never  bade,  accipite,  plainly  '  take,'  but  in 
this  only ;  and  that,  because  the  effect  of  this 
day's  union  is  no  way  more  lively  represented, 
no  way  more  effectually  wrought,  than  by  this 
use." — Serm.  II.,  on  Nativity,  vol  i.,  p.  30. 

"  And  I  may  safely  say  it  with  good  warrant, 
from  those  words  especially  and  chiefly,  which, 


as  He  Himself  saith  of  thorn,  are  c  spirit  and 
life,'  even  those  words  which,  joined  to  the  ele« 
ment,  make  the  blessed  Sacrament. 

"There  was  good  proof  made  of  it  this  day. 
All  the  way  did  He  preach  to  them,  even  till 
they  came  to  Emmaus,  and  their  hearts  were 
hot  within  them,  which  was  a  good  sign  ;  but 
their  eyes  were  not  opened  but  '  at  the  breaking 
of  bread,'  and  then  they  were.  That  is  the 
best  and  surest  sense,  we  know,  and  therefore 
most  to  be  accounted  of.  There  we  taste,  and 
there  we  see  ;  '  taste  and  see  how  gracious  the 
Lord  is.'  There  we  are  made  to  '  drink  of  the 
Spirit,'  there  our  '  hearts  are  strengthened  and 
stablished  with  grace.'  There  is  the  Blood 
which  shall  '  purge  our  consciences  from  dead 
works,'  whereby  we  may  die  to  sin.'  There 
the  Bread  of  God,  which  shall  endue  our  souls 
with  much  strength  ;  yea,  multiply  strength  in 
them  to  live  unto  God  ;  yea,  to  live  to  Him  con- 
tinually ;  for  he  that '  eateth  His  flesh  and  drink- 
eth  His  blood,  dwelleth  in  Christ,  and  Christ  in 
him  ;"  not  inneth,  or  sojourneth  for  a  time,  but 
dwelleth  continually.  And  never  can  we  more 
truly  or  properly  say  in  Christo  Jesu  Domino  nos- 
tro,  as  when  we  come  new  from  that  holy  action, 
for  then  He  is  in  us,  and  we  in  Him  indeed." — 
Sermon  I.,  on  the  Resurrection,  p.  204-5. 

"  If  such  a  new  consecrating  we  need,  what 
better  time  than  the  feast  of  first  fruits,  the  sac- 
rificing time  under  the  law  1  and  in  the  Gospel, 
the  day  of  Christ's  rising,  our  first  fruits  by 
Whom  we  are  then  consecrate?  The  day  where- 
in He  was  Himself  restored  to  the  perfection  of 
His  spiritual  life,  the  life  of  glory  is  the  best  for 
us  to  be  restored  into  the  first  fruits  of  that 
spiritual  life,  the  life  of  grace. 

"  And  if  we  ask  what  shall  be  our  means  of 
this  consecrating  1  The  Apostle  telleth  us  we 
are  sanctified  by  the  '  oblation  of  the  Body  of 
Jesus.'  That  is  the  best. means  to  restore  us 
to  that  life.  He  hath  said  il^and  showed  it 
Himself;  '  He  that  eateth  Me,  shall  live  by  Me.' 
The  words  spoken  concerning  that,  are  both 
'  spirit  and  life,'  whether  we  seek  for  the  spirit 
or  seek  for  life.  Such  was  the  means  of  our 
death,  by  eating  the  forbidden  fruit,  the  first 
fruits  of  death  ;  and  such  is  the  means  of  our 
life,  by  eating  the  flesh  of  Christ,  the  first  fruits 
of  life. 

"•  And  herein  we  shall  very  fully  fit,  not  the 
time  only  and  the  means,  but  also  the  manner. 
For  as  by  partaking  the  flesh  and  blood,  the  sub- 
stance of  the  '  first  Adam',  we  came  to  our 
death,  so-to  life  we  cannot  come,  unless  we  do 
participate  with  the  flesh  and  blood  of  the  '  sec- 
ond Adam,'  that  is,  Christ.  We  drew  death 
from  the  first  by  partaking  the  substance  ;  and 
so  must  we  draw  life  from  the  second  by  the 
same.  This  is  the  way ;  become  branches  of 
the  Vine,  and  partakers  of  his  nature,  and  so 
of  His  life  and  verdure  both." — Serm.  II.,  p. 
219-20. 

"  To  end  ;  because  we  be  speaking  of  a  hope 
to  be  laid  up  in  our  bosom,  it  falleth  out  very 
fitly,  that  even  at  this  time  festum  spei,  the 
Church  offereth  us  a  notable  pledge,  and  earnest 
of  this  hope  there  to  bestow ;  even  the  Holy 
Eucharist,  the  flesh  wherein  our  Redeemer  was 
seen  and  suffered,  and  paid  the  price  of  our  re- 
demption ;  and  together  with  it  •  the  Holy  Spirit, 
whereby  we  are  sealed  to  the  great  day  of  our 


ON  THE   EUCHARIST. 


redemption.'  To  the  laying  up  of  which  earn- 
est of  our  hope  and  interest  in  all  these,  we  are 
invited  at  this  time,  even  literally  to  lodge  and 
lay  it  up  in  our  bosom.  We  shall  be  the  nearer 
our  sew,  if  '  we  taste  and  see  by  it,  how  gra- 
cious the  Lord  is ;'  the  nearer  our  spero,  if  an 
earnest  or  pledge  of  it  be  laid  up  within  us  ;  the 
nearer  our  redemption,  if  we  have  within  us 
the  price  of  it ;  and  the  nearer  our  resurrection, 
they  be  His  own  words,  '  He  that  eateth  My 
flesh  and  drinketh,  &c.,  hath  eternal  life,  and  I 
will  raise  him  up  at  the  last  day.'  So  dwell  we 
in  Him,  and  He  in  us  ;  we  in  Him  by  our  flesh 
in  Him,  and  He  in  us  by  His  flesh  in  us.  There- 
by drawing  life  from  Him  the  second,  as  we  do 
<teath  from  the  first  Adam."— Serm.  V.,  p.  268. 

"  The  Church,  by  her  office,  or  agendum,  doth 
her  part  to  help  us  herein  all  she  may.  The 
things  we  are  willed  to  seek  she  sets  before  us, 
the  blessed  Mysteries.  For  these  are  from 
above ;  the  '  Bread  that  came  down  from  Heav- 
en,' the  Blood  that  hath  been  carried  '  into  the 
holy  place.'  And  I  add,  ubi  Christus;  for  ubi 
Corpus,  ubi  Sanguis  Cfiristi,  ubi  Christus,  I  am 
sure.  And  truly  here,  if  there  be  ubi  Christus, 
there  it  is.  On  earth  we  are  never  so  near  Him, 
nor  He  us,  as  then  and  there  There  intffic&cid, 
and  when  all  is  done,  efficacy,  that  is,  it  must 
do  us  good,  must  raise  us  near,  and  raise  us  at 
the  last  day  to  the  right  hand ;  and  the  local 
ubi  without  it  of  no  value." — Serm.  VIII.,  vol. 
ii.,  p.  321. 

"  But  to  he  temples  is  not  all,  we  are  farther 
to  be  templum  hoc,  'this  temple,'  and  this  was 
nhe  Temple  of  his  Body.'  And  that  we  are, 
if  at  any  time,  then  certainly  when  as  if  we 
were  temples  in  very  deed,  we  prepare  to  re- 
ceive, not  the  Ark  of  His  presence,  but  Him- 
self, that  He  may  come  into  us  and  be  in  us, 
which  is  at  what  time  we  present  ourselves  to 
receive  His  blessed  Body  and  Blood  ;  that  Body 
and  that  Blood  which  for  our  sakes  wasdissolved, 
dissolved  three  days  since,  when  it  suffered  for 
our  sins.  And  this  day  raised  again,  when  it 
rose  for  our  justification. 

"  Which  when  we  do,  that  is,  receive  this 
Body  or  this  Temple,  for  Templum  hoc  and  Hoc 
est  Corpus  Meum,  are  now  come  to  be  one,  for 
both  Templum  hoc  and  Corpus  hoc  are  in  Tem- 
plum corporis  Sui ;  and  when  the  temples  of  our 
"body  are  in  this  Temple,  and  the  TemJMe  of  his 
Body  in  the  temples  of  ours,  then  are  there 
three  Temples  in  one,  a  Trinity,  the  perfectest 
number  of  all.  Then  if  ever  are  we,  not  tem- 
ples only,  but  Templa  corporis  Sui,  '  Temples  of 
his  Body,'  and  this  Scripture  fulfilled  in  us." — 
Strm.  X.,  Tol.  ii.,  p.  362. 

"  In  Christ  this  sign  is  a  sign,  not  betoken- 
ing only,  but  exhibiting  also  what  it  betoken- 
eth,  as  the  Sacraments  do.  For  of  signs,  sojne 
show  only  and  work  nothing ;  such  was  that  of 
Jonas  in  itself,  sed  esse  plus  quam  Jonas  hie. 
For  some  other  there  be  that  show  and  work  both 
— work  what  they  show,  present  us  with  what 
they  represent,  what  they  set  before  us,  set  or 
graft  in  us.  Such  is  that  of  Christ.  For  be- 
sides what  it  sets  before  us  of  His,  it  is  far- 
ther a  seal  or  pledge  to  us  of  our  own  that  what 
we  see  in  Him  this  day,  shall  be  accomplished 
in  our  own  selves,  at  His  good  time. 

"  And  even  so  pass  we  to  another  mystery, 
<for  one  mystery  leads  us  to  another ;  this  in  the 


text,  to  the  holy  mysteries  we  are  providing  to 
partake,  which  do  work  like,  and  do  work  to 
this,  even  to  the  raising  of  the  soul  with  the 
first  resurrection.'  And  as  they  are  a  means 
for  the  raising  of  our  soul  out  of  the  soil  of  sin, 
— for  they  are  given  us,  and  we  take  them  ex- 
pressly for  the  remission  of  sins — so  are  they 
no  less  a  means  also  for  the  raising  our  bodies 
out  of  the  dust  of  death.  The  sign  of  that  Body 
which  was  thus  'in  the  heart  of  the  earth,'  to 
bring  us  from  thence  at  the  last.  Our  Saviour 
saith  it,  totidem  verbis,  '  Whoso  eateth  My  flesh 
and  drinketh  My  blood,  I  will  raise  him  up  at 
the  last  day.'  " — Serm.  XII,  p.  402,  403. 

"  The  third  place  is  St.  Augustine,  that  Christ 
in  these  words  had  a  farther  meaning  ;  to  wean, 
her  from  all  sensual  and  fleshly  touching,  and 
teach  her  a  new  and  a  true  touch,  truer  than, 
that  she  was  about.  This  sense  groweth  out 
of  Christ's  reason,  'Touch  Me  not,  for  I  am  not 
yet  ascended,'  as  if  till  he  were  ascended,  He 
would  not  be  touched,  and  then  He  would.  As 
much  as  to  say,  '  Care  not  to  touch  Me  here, 
stand  not  upon  it,  touch  Me  not  till  I  be  as- 
cended ;  stay  till  then,  and  then  do.  That  is 
the  true  touch,  that  it  is  will  do  you  all  the 
good.' 

'And  there  is  reason  for  this  sense.  For 
the  touch  of  His  Body  which  she  so  much  de- 
sired, that  could  last  but  forty  days  in  all,  while 
He  in  His  Body  were  among  them.  And  what 
should  all  since,  and  we  now,  have  been  the 
setter  1  He  was  to  take  her  out  a  lesson,  and 
to  teach  her  another  touch,  that  might  serve 
for  all  to  the  world's  end  ;  that  might  serve 
when  the  Body  and  bodily  touch  were  taken 

om  us. 

"  Christ  himself  touched  upon  this  point  in 
the  sixth  chapter,  at  the  sixty-second  verse, 
when  at  Capernaum  they  stumbled  at  the  speech 
of  eating  His  flesh.  '  What,'  saith  He, '  find  you 
this  strange,  now]  How  will  you  find  it  then, 
when  you  shall  see  the  Son  of  Man  ascend  up 
where  he  was  before  ?*  How  then  1  And  yet 
then  you  must  eat,  or  else  there  is  no  life  in  you. 

"  So  it  is  a  plain  item  to  her,  that  there  may 

a  sensual  touching  of  him  here ;  but  that  is 
not  it,  not  the  right,  it  avails  little.  It  was  her 
?rror  this ;  she  was  all  for  the  corporeal  presence, 
br  the  touch  with  the  fingers.  So  were  his  disci- 
jles,  all  of  them,  too  much  addicted  to  it.  From 
which  they  were  now  to  be  weaned,  that  if  they 
lad  before  known  Christ,  or  touched  him  after 
the  flesh,  yet  now  from  henceforth  they  were  to 
do  so  no  more,  but  learn  a  new  touch  ;  to  touch 
rlim,  being  now  ascended.  Such  a  touching 
.here  is,  or  else  His  reason  holds  not ;  and  best 
ouching  Him  so,  better  far  than  this  of  hers  she 
was  so  eager  on." — Serm.  XV.,  on  Resur.,  vol. 
ii.,  p.  36. 

"  As  these  are  their  (the  Romanists)  imagi- 
nations, so  we  want  not  ours.  For  many  among 
us  fancy  only  a  Sacrament  in  this  action,  and 
ook  strange  at  the  mention  of  a  Sacrifice  j 
whereas  we  not  only  use  it  as  a  nourishment 
spiritual,  as  that  it  is  too,  but  as  a  mean  also  to 
renew  a  '  covenant'  with  God  by  virtue  of  that 
Sacrifice,'  as  the  Psalmist  speaketh.  So  our 
Saviour  Christ  in  the  institution  telleth  us,  in 
the  twenty-second  chapter  of  Luke,  and  twen- 
tieth verse,  and  the  Apostle,  in  the  thirteenth 
chapter  of  Hebrews  and  tenth  verse.  And  the 


DR.   PUSEY'S   SERMON 


old  writers  use  no  less  the  word  Sacrifice  than 
Sacrament,  altar  than  table,  offer  than  eat ;  but 
both  indifferently,  to  show  there  is  both. 

"  And  again  too,  that  to  a  many  with  us  it  is 
indeed  sofractio  panis,  as  it  is  that  onjy  and  no- 
thing beside  ;  whereas  the  '  Bread'  which  we 
break  is  the  partaking  of  Christ's  true  '  Body' — 
and  not  of  a  sign,  figure,  or  remembrance  of  it. 
For  the  Church  hath  ever  believed  a  true  frui- 
ticn  of  the  true  Body  of  Christ  in  that  Sacra- 
ment."—Vol.  v.,  p.  66,  67. 

DR.  DONNE.' 

But  yet,  though  this  bread  be  not  transubstan- 
tiated, we  refuse  not  the  words  of  the  Fathers,  in 
which  they  have  expressed  themselves  in  this 
mystery.  Not  Irenceus  his  '  cst  corpus,'  that  that 
Bread  is  His  Body  now.  Not  Tertullian's  'fecit 
corpus,1  that  that  Bread  is  made  His  Body  which 
was  not  so  before.  Not  St.  Cyprian's  <  mutatus,' 
that  that  Bread  is  changed.  Not  Damascene's 
1  supernaiuraliter  mutatis?  that  that  Bread  is  not 
only  changed  so  in  the  use,  as  when  at  the  King's 
table  certain  portions  of  bread  are  made  bread 
of  essay,  to  pass  over  every  dish  whether  for 
safety  or  for  majesty ;  not  only  so  civilly  chang- 
ed, but  changed  supernaturally.  No,  nor  The- 
ophylact's  '  transformatus  est'  (which  seems  to  be 
the  word  that  goes  farthest  of  all),  for  this  trans- 
forming cannot  be  intended  of  the  outward  form 
and  fashion,  for  that  is  not  changed,  but  be  it  of 
that  internal  form  which  is  the  very  essence  and 
nature  of  the  Bread,  so  it  is  transformed,  so  the 
Bread  hath  received  a  new  form,  a  new-essence, 
a  new  nature,  because  whereas  the  nature  of 
bread  is  but  to  nourish  the  body,  the  nature  of 
this  Bread  now  is  to  nourish  the  soul.  And, 
therefore,  cum  non  dubitavit  Dominus  dicere,  Hoc 
est  Corpus  meum  cum  signum  daret  cwporis,  since 
Christ  forbore  not  to  say,  'This  is  My  Body/ 
when  he  gave  the  sign  of  His  Body,  why  should 
we  forbear  to  say  of  that  Bread,  This  is  Christ's 
Body,  which  is  the  sacrament  of  His  Body  7" — 80 
Sermons,  ed.  1640,  p.  37, 4th  Sermon  on  the  Nativity. 

JACKSON. 

"  This  is  a  point  which  every  Christian  is 
bound  expressly  to  believe,  that  God  the  Father 
doth  neither  forgive  sins,  nor  vouchsafe  any  term 
or  plea  of  reconciliation,  but  only  for  the  merits 
and  satisfaction  made  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  Son 
of  God,  who  by  the  eternal  Spirit  offered  Him- 
self in  our  human  nature  upon  the  Cross.  In 
the  next  place,  we  are  to  believe  and  acknowl- 
edge, that  as  God  the  Father  doth  neither  forgive, 
nor  vouchsafe  reconciliation,  but  for  the  merits 
and  reconciliation  of  His  only  Son;  so  neither 
will  He  vouchsafe  to  convey  this  or  any  other 
blessing  unto  us,  which  His  Son  hath  purchased 
for  us,  but  only  through  his  Son ;  not  only  through 
Him  as  our  Advocate  or  Intercessor ;  but  through 
Him  as  our  Mediator,  that  is,  through  His  Hu- 
manity, as  the  Organ  or  Conduit,  or  as  the  only 
bond,  by  which  we  are  united  and  reconciled 
unto  the  Divine  Nature.  For  although  the  Holy- 
Spirit  or  Third  Person  in  Trinity  doth  immedi- 
at  ^  y  and  by  Personal  propriety  work  faith  and 
ot«ier  spiritual  graces  in  our  souls,  yet  doth  He 
not  by  these  spiritual  graces  unite  our  souls  or 
spirits  immediately  unto  Christ's  human  nature. 
He  doth  as  it  were  till  the  ground  of  our  hearts, 
and  make  it  fit  to  receive  the  seed  of  life ;  but 
this  seed  of  righteousness  immediately  flows  from 
the  Son  of  Righteousness,  whoses  weet  influ- 
ence likewise  it  is,  which  doth  immediately  sea- 


son, cherish,  and  ripen  it.  The  Spirit  of  Life, 
whereby  our  adoption  and  election  is  sealed  unto 
us,  is  the  real  participation  of  Christ's  Body, 
which  was  broken,  and  of  Christ's  Blood,  which 
was  shed  for  us.  This  is  the  true  and  punctual 
meaning  of  our  Apostle's  speech,  1  Cor.,  xv.,  45. 
'  Tlie first  man  Adam  'was  made  a  living  soul,'  or, 
as  the  Syriac  hath  it,  animate  corpus,an  enliven- 
ed body  ;  '  but  the  second  Adam  was  made  a  quick' 
ening  Spirit;'  and  immediately  becometh  such, 
to  all  those  which  as  truly  bear  his  image  by  the 
Spirit  of  Regeneration,  which  issues  from  Him, 
as  they  have  borne  the  image  of  the  first  Adam 
by  natural  propagation ;  and  this  again  is  the 
true  and  punctual  meaning  of  our  Saviour's 
words,  John,  vi.,  63.  '  It  is  the  Spirit  that  quick- 
eneth,  the  flesh  profit-elk  nothing ;  the  words  thai  I 
speak  unto  you  are  spirit  and  life'  For  so  He  had 
said  in  the  verses  before,  to  such  as  were  offend- 
ed at  His  words,  '  Wliat  if  you  should  see  the  Son 
of  Man  ascend  up  where  He  was  before  T  The  i  m- 
plicalion  contained  in  the  connexion  between, 
these  two  verses  and  the  precedent  is  this  :  That 
Christ's  virtual  presence,  or  the  influence  of  life, 
which  His  human  nature  was  to  distil  from  His 
heavenly  throne,  should  be  more  profitable  to 
such  as  were  capable  of  it,  than  His  bodily  pres- 
ence; than  the  bodily  eating  of  his  Flesh  and 
Blood  could  be,  although  it  had  been  convertible 
into  their  bodily  substance.  This  distillation  of 
life  and  immortality  from  His  glorified  human, 
nature,  is  that,  which  the  ancient,  and  orthodoxal 
Church  did  mean  in  their  figurative  and  lofty 
speeches  of  Christ's  real  Presence,  or  of  eating 
His  very  Flesh  and  drinking  His  very  Blood  in 
the  Sacrament.  And  the  Sacramental  Bread  is 
called  His  Body,  and  the  Sacramental  Wine  His 
Blood;  as  for  other  reasons,  so  especially  for 
this,  that  the  virtue  or  influence  of  his  bloody- 
Sacrifice  is  most  plentifully  and  most  effectually 
distilled  from  heaven  unto  the  worthy  receivers 
of  the  Eucharist."— vol.  iii.,  p.  327,  8. 

"  All  that  are  partakers  of  this  Sacrament,  eat 
Christ's  Body  and  drink  His  Blood  sacramental- 
ly  ;  that  is, 'they  eat  that  Bread  which  sacra- 
mentallyis  His  Body,  and  drink  that  Cup  which 
sacrimentally  is  His  Blood,  whether  they  eat  or 
drink  faithfully  or  unfaithfully.  For,  all  the  Is- 
raelites (1  Cor.,  x.)  drank  of  't/ie  same  spiritual  rock , 
which  was  Christ  sacramentally :  all  of  them  were 
partakers  of  His  presence,  when  Moses  smote 
the  rock.  Yet,  with  '  many  of  them,  God  was  not 
well  pleased'  because  they  did  not  faithfully  either 
drink  or  participate  of  His  presence.  And  more 
displeased  He  is  with  such  as  eat  Christ's  Body 
and  drink  His  Blood  unworthily,  though  they  eat 
and  drink  them  sacramentally ;  for  eating  and 
drinking  so  onely,  that  is,  without  faith,  or  due 
respect,  they  eat  and  drink  to  their  own  condem- 
nation, because  they  do  not  discern,  or  rightly 
esteem  Christ's  Body  or  Presence  in  the  Holy 
Sacrament. 

'  May  we  say,  then,  that  Christ  is  really  pres- 
ent in  the  Sacrament,  as  well  to  the  unworthy  as 
;o  the  faithful  receivers  7  Yes,  this  we  must 
grant,  yet  must  we  add.  withal,  that  he  is  really 
aresent  with  them  in  a  quite  contrary  manner; 
•eally  present  he  is,  because  virtually  present  to 
30th ;  because  the  operation  or  efficacy  of  His 
Body  and  Blood  is  not  metaphorical,  but  real  in 
both.  Thus  the  bodily  sun,  though  locally  dis- 
.ant  for  its  substance,  is  really  present  by  its  heat 
and  light,  as  well  to  sore  eyes,  as  to  clear  sights, 
aut  really  presant  to  both,  by  a  contrary  real  op- 
eration, and  by  the  like  contrary  operation,  it  is 


ON  THE   EUCHARIST. 


realljr  present  to  clay  and  to  wax,  it  really  har- 
deneth  the  one,  and  really  softeneth  the  other.  So 
doth  Christ's  Body  and  Blood  by  its  invisible,  but 
real  influence,  mollify  the  hearts  of  such  as  cotne 
to  the  Sacrament  with  due  preparation ;  but 
harden  such  as  unworthily  receive  the  conse- 
crated Elements.  If  he  that  will  hear  the  Word, 
must  take  heed  how  he  hears,  much  more  must 
he  which  means  to  receive  the  Sacrament  of 
Christ's  Body  and  Blood,  be  careful  how  he  re- 
ceives. He  that  will  present  himself  at  this  great 
marriage-feast  of  the  Lamb  without  a  wedding 
garment,  had  better  be  absent.  It  was  always 
safer,  not  to  approach  the  presence  of  God  man- 
ifested or  exhibited  in  extraordinary  manner  (as 
in  His  sanctuary  or  in  the  ark),  than  to  make 
appearance  before  it  in  an  unhallowed  manner, 
or  without  due  preparation.  Now  when  we  say 
that  Christ  is  really  present  in  the  Sacrament, 
our  meaning  is,  that  as  God  He  is  present  in  an 
extraordinary  manner,  after  such  a  manner,  as 
He  was  present  (before  His  incarnation)  in  His 
sanctuary  the  Ark  of  His  Covenant;  and  by  the 
power  of  Hi.s  Godhead  thus  extraordinarily  pres- 
ent, He  diffuseth  the  virtue  or  operation  of  His 
human  nature,  either  to  the  vivification  or  hard- 
ening of  their  hearts,  who  receive  the  Sacrament- 
al pledges."— Vol.  iii.,  p.  333,  4. 

SUTTON. 

"  There  is  a  far  better  and  safer  course  than  to 
contend  any  longer,  if  men  would  at  last  set 
themselves  on  all  parts  to  follow  it,  which  is  to 
reverence  the  Son  of  God  in  the  unsearchable 
mysteries  of  his  wisdom  which  are  past  finding 
out,  and  not  to  stand  weighing  them  in  the  light 
scales  and  balance  of  their  own  reason;  to  draw 
a  veil  over  them,  or  say  with  the  woman  of  Sa- 
maria, Puteus  cst  altus,  this  well  is  deep,  and  so 
with  pious  hearts  to  reverence  them,  and  no  more 
ado. 

"5.  When  we  have  done  striving,  and  even 
wearied  ourselves  in  a  thousand  difficulties, 
brought  our  minds  into  a  labyrinth  of  doubts,  un- 
less we  will  make  controversies  immortal,  we 
must  draw  at  last  to  an  issue. 

"  The  faithful  receive  the  blessed  Sacrament. 
Well,  what  do  they  receive?  Certainly  Christ 
Jesus,  truly  and  really ;  to  make  farther  scruple 
is  needless  curiosity;  to  give  light  credence  here- 
unto, is  in  part  incredulity.  What  the  elements 
of  Bread  and  Wine  are  in  themselves  is  one 
thing;  that  they  are,  being  now  consecrated  to 
so  holy  a  use,  and  received  of  the  spiritually 
minded  as  the  spiritual  food  of  their  souls,  is  an- 
other. What  they  are,  I  say,  Christ's  own  words 
are  sufficient  warrant  for  a  believing  world  unto 
the  world's  end.  Wherefore,  to  be  over-willed 
in  seeking,  or  doubling  how  this  should  be,  is  no 
way  agreeable  to  thai  failh  and  obedience  that 
becometh  Christians.  Rsrum  absentium  (saith  an 
ancient  father)  prasens  cst  fides;  rerum  impossibtt- 
ium,  possibilis  est  fides;  of  things  absent,  faith  is 
present;  of  things  impossible,  failh  is  possible. 
Panem  vifles,  vcrbum,  judis;  Cui  potius  credis? 
Smsui,  vel  Christo?  Thou  seesl  the  Bread,  thou 
nearest  the  word  ;  to  which  rather  dost  thou  give 
credit,  whether  to  thy  sense  or  to  Christ  ?  Cur  pan 
potius  gaudes?  Quid  quaris?  Why  dost  thou 
not  rather  rejoice?  Why  dost  thou  question  1 

"6.  In  this  case,  thai  of  Ihe  blessed  Virgin, 
spoken  of  Chrisl  al  the  Marriage  at  Cana  in  Gal- 
ilee, would  be  remembered ;  Quodcunque  dixerit 
vobis,  facile ;  whatsoever  he  shall  say  unto  you, 
do  it. 


"When  the  Serpent  said  unto  Eve,  Cur  prce- 
cepit,  vobis  Dens,  ut  non  comederetis  ?  Why  hath, 
God  commanded  you  not  to  eat  1  Had  she  an- 
swered, Stio  quod  prtecepit,  non  special  ad  une  in~ 
vestigare,  causam  quare'pi  axxpit ;  I  know  He  hath 
commanded  me  so ;  to  see  a  reason  why,  or  the 
cause  wherefore,  I  need  not,  I  ought  not;  had 
she  not  done  far  better1?" — Godly  Meditations  on 
Ihe  Most  Holy  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper } 
Preface. 

"  10.  And  now  that  we  may  ingeniously  con- 
fess that  which  is  a  plain  case  in  the  sight  of 
God,  and  nol  flourish  over  Ihe  Irath  with  colours 
of  rhetoric,  or  smother  it  with  the  clouds  of  de- 
ceit, we  acknowledge  thai  ihe  dignity  of  Ihis  Sac- 
ramenl  is  greater  than  words  can  express,  year 
than  the  mind  of  man  is  able  to  conceive.  If 
any  will  exact  the  efficacy  of  those  five  words, 
'For  this  is  My  Body,'  we  answer,  It  is  a  great 
mystery. 

"11.  Truly  we  give,  and  that  justly,  great  re- 
spect and  reverence  lo  Ihe  holy  Eucharist;  for, 
whereas  bread  and  wine  are  elemenls  naturally 
ordained  for  ihe  suslenance  of  the  power  of  Di- 
vine benediction  they  do  receive  a  virtue,  lhat, 
being  received  of  ihe  faithful,  Ihey  become  nour- 
ish menl  of  the  soul,  nay,  they  become  means 
whereby  we  are  sanclified  bolh  in  body  and  soul, 
and  are  made  the  members  of  Christ. 

"  12.  But  Christ,  some  say,  in  express  words 
calleth  Ihe  Bread  His  Body,  and  Ihe  Wine  His 
Blood:  true,  in  express  words  also  He  calleth 
Himself  a  rock.  Right  well  saith  Eusebius  Em- 
isenus,  '  Comest  thou  to  the  Sacrament,  consid- 
er there  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ:  wonder 
at  it  with  reverence,  touch  it  with  thy  mind,  re- 
ceive it  with  the  hand  of  thy  heart ;  do  not  say 
as  the  Capernaites,  "  Master,  how  earnest  thou 
hither?"  but,  with  his  disciples,  asking  no  ques- 
tion, be  glad  thou  dost  enjoy  Him.  He  is  hon- 
oured in  this  mystery,  thai  was  once  offered  upon 
ihe  Cross.  Yea,  bul  how  can  Ihis  be,  lhat  Christ, 
sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God  in  heaven,  should 
dispose  of  His  Body  to  us  poor  inhabitanls  of 
earth?  Take  here  the  -answer  of  the  angel  Ga- 
briel, the  Holy  Ghost  hath  overshadowed  it. 
'  From  hence,'  saith  St.  Bernard,  c  to  search  is 
temerily,  to  know  is  life  eternal.'  " 

"  13.  Is  il  not  a  hard  saying,  '  Unless  ye  eat 
Ihe  Flesh  of  Ihe  Son  of  God,'  &c.  ?  Il  is  a  hard 
saying  lo  them  that  are  hard  of  believing  The 
disciples  hearing  thai  of  Iheir  Lord  and  Master, 
'  Take,  eat,  this  is  My  Body,'  they  take,  and 
eat,  asking  no  question.  'Being  confirmed  in 
faith,'  saith  St.  Chrysosiom,  '  Ihey  take  and  eat; 
unbelievers  hearing  ihe  same  of  our  Saviour, 
Ihey  depart,  they  eat  not.'  Peter  answereth, 
Lord,  Thou  hast  the  words  of  life ;'  others  go- 
backward,  leaving  the  Lord  of  life.  The  Caper- 
naite,  hearing,  dreameth  of  ealing  naturally, 
grossly ;  the  godly  are  assured  of  eating  spiritu- 
ally, and  yet  withal  really. 

"  14.  Great  was  the  authority  of  Pythagoras 
among  his  scholars ;  if  he  said  it,  they  were 
silent ;  but  greater  was,  and  is,  and  ought  to  be, 
the  authority  of  Christ  with  believers  ;  He  saith 
it,  and  they  believe.  The  sun  remains  a  splen- 
dent body,  though  bats  and  owls  cannot  endure 
it ;  the  holy  Sacrament  remains  an  unspeakable 
mystery,  though  the  carnal  man  doth  not  per- 
ceive it.  In  this  case,  silence  is  the  safest  elo- 
quence, and  the  best  expressing  is  not  to  ex- 
press. A  godly  meditation  is  safer  than  a  So- 
cratical  disputing.  Discourse  of  controversy 


26 


DR.   PUSEY'S  SERMON 


doth  often  abate  devotion :  discourse  of  piety 
about  this  mystery  is  sweeter  than  the  honey  or 
the  honey-comb. 

"  15.  The  Passover,  which  Christ  kept  with 
His  disciples,  was  piepared  in  an  upper  room. 
When  men  brought  unto  Him  a  man  sick  of  the 
palsy,  they,  in  letting  down  the  sick,  uncovered 
the  roof  of  the  house.  The  harder  parts  of  the 
Paschal  Lamb  were  consumed  by  fire.  Mys- 
teries are,  if  not  contrary,  yet  often  above  rea- 
son. Well  saith  St.  Cyril,  in  his  third  book 
against  Julian, '  If  human  reason  waver  in  things 
sensible,  how  much  more  shall  it  do  so  in  things 
beyond  sense  1  Faithless  Julian  !  what  if  the 
creation  of  the  angels  excel  human  capacity,  did 
not  Moses  well  in  forbearing  to^mention  if? 
Assuredly  he  did  well.  What  if  it  cannot  by 
reason  be  conceived  how  Christ,  sitting  at  the 
table,  should  give  Himself  to  His,  for  sustenance, 
wilt  thou,  therefore,  by-and-by,  imagine  this  or 
that  change  1 

"  '  Let  us  rather  honour  Christ  in  His  mys- 
teries, praise  Him  for  His  mercies,  be  thankful 
unto  Him  for  His  benefits.  Those  things  which 
we  comprehend  let  us  admire ;  those  which  we 
cannot  comprehend,  let  us  more  admire  :  though 
words  be  wanting  what  to  express,  let  not  faith 
be  wanting  what  to  believe.' — Ib.,  p.  287-291. 

"31.  Well  saith  Fulgentius,  against  the  Ari- 
ans,  'True  faith  hath  never  superfluous,  but 
it  ever  had  and  hath,  just  reasons.'  So  also  St. 
Cyril's  mysteries  are  offered  to  believers,  not  to 
-questioners. 

"  32.  Albeit,  then,  the  manner  be  not  of  us 
over  curiously  inquired  or  searched  after,  yet 
the  same  presence  of  Christ  is  acknowledged 
which  Christ  himself  would  have  to  be  acknowl- 
edged. We  say  with  St.  Ambrose,  that  there  is 
not  taken  from  bread  the  substance  thereof,  but 
that  there  is  adjoined  the  grace  of  Christ's  Body 
after  a  manner  ineffable. 

"  33.  It  was  no  other  but  a  shadow  of  this 
benefit  that  was  of  old  given  to  the  Jews  in  the 
ark  of  the  covenant,  and  yet  Solomon  did  so  ad- 
mire it,  as  that  he  said,  'And  is  it  credible  that 
God  should  dwell  with  men  '!' 

"  34.  We  often  marvel  and  condemn  the  Jews, 
that,  having  Christ  among  them,  they  did  not 
acknowledge  and  receive  Him  in  the  manner 
that  they  ought  to  have  done.  Let  us  consider 
Christ  among  us,  and  invert  that  saying  of  the 
husbandmen,  '  This  is  the  heir,'  let  us  take  him, 
receive  him,  believe  in  him, '  and  the  inheritance 
shall  be  ours.' 

"  35.  Last  of  all,  concerning  the  controversy 
about  the  holy  Eucharist,  between  two  extremes, 
^whereof  we  have  heard,  let  us  embrace  the 
means ;  let  us,  with  a  sincere  faith,  apprehend 
the  truth ;  apprehending,  let  us  keep  it ;  keep- 
ing, let  us  adore  it  with  godly  manners. 

"36.  And  now  to  draw  in,  as  it  were,  the 
sails  of  this  admonition,  godly  reader,  seeing 
that  this  divine  institution  was  left  by  our  gra- 
cious Redeemer,  both  for  the  inward  peace  of 
the  soul,  and  outward  of  the  Church,  who  can 
sufficiently  lament  to  see  the  dissension  that 
hath  miserably  divided  the  Christian  world,  and 
discord  that  hath  risen  about  the  same  !  Let  us 
call  to  mind,  that  God  is  not  the  God  of  dissen- 
sion, but  the  God  of  peace.  Let  us  all  forbear 
on  both  sides  needless  and  unprofitable  disputes 
Unless  Thou,  Lord,  hadst  said  it,  '  This  is  My 


Body,  this  is  My  Blood,'  who  would  have  be- 
lieved it  ?  Unless  Thou  hadst  said,  O  holy 
Christ,  'Take,  eat,  drink  ye  all  of  this,'  who 
durst  have  touched  if?  Who  would  have  ap- 
proached to  so  heavenly  a  repast,  hadst  Thou 
not  commanded  it,  hoc  facite,  do  ye  this ;  but 
Thou  commanding,  who  would  not  joyfully  come 
and  communicate! 

14  37.  Let  us  then  hold  captive  human  reason, 
and  prepare  ourselves  unto  the  fruit  of  this  hea- 
venly manna.  Unnecessary  disputes  bring  small 
profits,  we  may  with  greater  benefit  wonder 
than  argue.  Then  are  the  works  of  God  most 
truly  conceived,  when  they  are  devoutly  ad- 
mired."—/^, p.  299-301. 

"  Consider  the  divine  wisdom  of  the  Son  of 
God,  who,  respecting  our  weakness,  hath  con- 
veyed unto  us  His  Body  and  Blood  after  a  di- 
vine and  spiritual  manner,  under  the  forms  of 
Bread  and  Wine."— P.  26. 

BISHOP  WHITE  (QUOTING  BISHOP 
BILSON.) 

"The  more  learned  Jesuits  themselves  ac- 
knowledge that  Protestants  believe  the  Real 
Presence  of  Christ's  Body  and  Blood  in  the 
Holy  Eucharist ;  and  our  Divines  deliver  their 
faith  concerning  the  Sacrament  in  this  manner. 
God  forbid  we  should  deny  that  the  Flesh  and 
Blood  of  Christ  are  truly  present  and  truly  re- 
ceived of  the  faithful  at  the  Lord's  Table  ;  it  is 
the  doctrine  we  teach  others  and  comfort  our- 
selves with." — Conference  with  Fisher,  p.  178. 

ARCHBISHOP  LAUD. 

"  As  for  the  Church  of  England,  nothing  is 
more  plain  than  that  it  believes  and  teaches  the 
true  and  real  presence  of  Christ  in  the  Euchar- 
ist."— Conference  with  Fisher,  p.  294,  sec.  35. 

"  His  Altar,  as  the  greatest  place  of  God's 
residence  upon  earth,  (I  say  the  greatest,)  yea, 
greater  than  the  pulpit.  For  there  'tis  '  Hoc  est 
Corpus  meum,'  'This  is  My  Body.'  But  in  the 
pulpit  'tis  at  most,  '  Hoc  est  verbum  meum,' 
'This  is  my  word.'  And  a  greater  reverence 
(no  doubt)  is  due  to  the  Body  than  to  the  word 
of  our  Lord.  And  so  in  relation,  answerably  to 
the  throne,  where  his  Body  is  usually  present, 
than  to  the  seat  where  His  word  useth  to  be 
proclaimed." — Speech  at  the  Star  Chamber,  1637, 
p.  47 

"  O  Lord  God,  hear  my  prayers.  I  come  to 
Thee  in  a  steadfast  faith  ;  yet  for  the  clearness 
of  my  faith,  Lord,  enlighten  it,  for  the  strength 
of  my  fatth,  Lord,  increase  it.  Behold,  Lord,  I 
quarrel  not  with  the  words  of  Thy  Son  rny  Sav- 
iour's blessed  Institution.  I  know  His  words  are 
no  gross,  unnatural  conceit,  but  they  are  Spirit 
and  Life.  While  the  world  disputes,  I  believe. 
He  hath  premised  me,  if  I  come  worthily,  that 
I  shall  receive  His  most  precious  Body  and 
Blood  with  all  the  fruits  of  His  Passion." — De- 
votions. 

"  O  Lord  God,  how  I  receive  the  Body  and 
Blood  of  my  most  blessed  Saviour  Jesus  Christ 
is  the  very  wonder  of  my  soul,  yet  my  most 
firm  and  constant  belief  upon  the  words  of  my 
Saviour.  At  this  time  they  are  graciously  of- 
fered to  me  and  my  faith  ;  Lord,  make  me  a 
worthy  receiver,  and  be  it  unto  me  as  He  hatb. 
said." — Ibid. 

"  As  I  like  not  those  that  say.  He  is  bodily 
there,  so  I  like  not  those  that  say  His  Body  is 


ON  THE   EUCHARIST. 


not  there,  because  Christ  saith  it  is  there,  and 
St.  Paul  saith  it  is  there,  and  the  Church  of 
England  saith  it  is  there,  and  the  Church  of 
God  ever  saith  it  is  there  ;  and  that  truly,  and 
substantially,  and  essentially  :  and  that  not  only 
by  way  of  representation  or  commemoration  ; 
and  yet  without,  either  con,  sub,  or  trans,  which 
the  ancient  Church  said  not  :  by  a  real,  and 
nevertheless  a  spiritual  and  mystical  and  su- 
pernatural presentation  and  exhibition.  For 
why  should  our  Saviour  bid  us  take  what  He 
would  not  have  us  receive  1  We  must  believe 
that  it  is  there  ;  we  must  not  know  what  is 
there  ;  our  faith  may  see  it,  our  sense  cannot ; 
it  is  a  mystery,  they  all  say,  and  it  were  no 
mystery  if  it  were  known  ;  His  Presence  they 
determined,  the  manner  of  His  Presence  they  de- 
termined not ;  they  say  He  is  there,  and  they  say 
the  Lord  knows  how.  For  why  should  we  seek 
Him  naturally  in  the  Communion,  whom  natu- 
rally we  cannot  find  in  the  womb  of  the  Virgin? — 
Dr.  Lawrence,  Sermon  before  the  King,  p.  17,  18. 

"  The  people  were  not  so  profane  and  un- 
christian not  to  perform  their  most  humble  and 
lowly  reverence  towards  the  most  holy  and  sa- 
cred Altar,  where  Christ  is  most  truly  and 
leally  present  in  the  blessed  Sacrament,  &c. 
Altars,  because  they  are  the  seats  and  chairs 
of  estate,  where  the  Lord  vouchsafeth  to  place 
himself  among  us  (quid  est  enim  Altare,  nisi  se- 
dcs  Carports  et  Sanguinis  Christi,  as  Optatus 
speaks!)  have  been  in  all  ages  so  greatly  hon- 
oured, and  regarded  of  the  most  wise,  learned, 
and  most  blessed  Saints  of  God." — Pocklington, 
Altare  Chrislianum,  p.  108,  153. 

"  Bishop  Ridley  doth  not  only  call  it  the  Sac- 
rament of  the  Altar,  affirming  thus,  that  in  the 
Sacrament  of  the  Altar  is  the  natural  Body  and 
Blood  of  Christ,"  &c.—Heylin,  Coal  from  the 
Altar,  p.  15,  quoting  Ridley. 

"  All  sides  agree  in  the  truth  with  the  Church 
of  England,  that  in  the  most  blessed  Sacrament 
the  worthy  receiver  is  by  his  faith  made  spirit- 
ual partaker  of  the  true  and  real  Body  and 
Blood  of  Christ,  truly  and  really.  I  would  have 
no  man  troubled  at  the  words  truly  and  really, 
&c.  Bellarmine  saith  'Protestants  do  often 
grant,  that  the  true  and  real  Body  of  Christ  is 
in  the  Eucharist,  and  it  is  most  true.  For  the 
Calvinists,  at  least  they  which  follow  Calvin 
himself,  do  not  only  believe  that  the  true  and 
real  body  of  Christ  is  received  in  the  Eucharist, 
but  that  it  is  there ;  and  that  we  partake  of  it 
vcre  et  realiter ;  nor  can  that  place  by  any  art 
be  shifted  or  by  any  violence  wrested  from  Cal- 
vin's true  meaning  of  the  Presence  of  Christ,  in 
arid  at  the  blessed  Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist. 
And,  for  the  Church  of  England,  nothing  is  more 
plain  than  that  it  believes  and  teaches  the  true 
and  real  Presence  of  Christ  in  the  Eucharist ; 
unless  A.  C.  can  make  a  body  no  body,  and 
blood  no  blood.  Nay,  Bishop  Ridley  adds  yet 
farther,  '  That  in  the  Sacrament  is  the  very  true 
and  natural  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,  that 
which  was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  which  as- 
cended into  heaven,  which  sitteth  at  the  right 
hand  of  God  the  Father,  which  shall  come  from 
thence  to  judge  the  quick  and  the  dead,"  &c. 
— Laud's  Conference  with  Fisher,  p.  286-296. 

"  And  for  the  passages  objected  out  of  mine 
own  Speech  in  Star  Chamber,  that  they  imply 
.and  necessarily  infer  the  Popish  doctrine  of 


Transubstantiation,  and  the  giving  of  divine 
worship  to  the  Altar,  even  the  same  that  is  giv- 
en to  God.  I  answer,  that  neither  of  these  can 
be  inferred  from  thence ;  for  my  words  only 
imply,  that  Christ's  body  is  truly  and  really 
present  in  the  Sacrament ;  yet  not  corporeally, 
but  in  a  spiritual  manner,  and  so  is  received  by 
us  ;  which  is  no  more  than  Master  Calvin  him- 
self affirms  on  the  1  Cor.,  xi.,  24,  where  thus 
he  writes  :  Neque  enim  mortis  tan  turn  et  rcsur- 
rectionis  suce  benejicmm  nobis  o/ert  Chris  tits,  sed 
Corpus  Suum  in  quo  passas  est  et  resurrexit : 
conclude,  realiter  (ut  vu/go  loquuntue),  id  est,  vere 
nobis  in  Catena  datur  Christi  Corpus,  ut  sit  ani- 
mis  nostris  in  cibum  salutarem  ;  and  Master 
Perkins  himself  saith  as  much."  Prynne's 
Canterbury's  Doom,  p.  514. 

BISHOP  FORBES. 

"  The  doctrine  of  those  Protestants  and  oth- 
ers seems  most  safe  and  true,  who  are  of  opin- 
ion, nay,  most  firmly  believe,  that  the  Body  and 
Blood  of  Christ  are  truly,  really,  and  substantial- 
ly present  in  the  Eucharist,  and  received  but  in 
a  manner  incomprehensible  in  respect  of  human 
reason,  and  ineffable,  known  to  God  alone,  and 
not  revealed  to  us  in  the  Scriptures,  gtet  corpo- 
real, yet  neither  in  the  mind  alone,  nor  through 
faith  alone,  but  in  another  way,  known,  as  was 
said, 'to  God  alone,  and  to  be  left  to  His  Omnip- 
otence."— Consid.  Modest,  de  Euchar.,  I.,  i.,  7. 

EDE. 

"  It  abolishes  the  mystery  of  our  consolation, 
and  that  whereby  our  faith  is  strengthened  in 
the  use  of  these  holy  signs,  that  mankind  might 
have  an  intjerest  in  Christ,  and  what  He  should 
do  on  our  behalf.  We  know  it  was  required  He 
should  be  incarnate  and  take  our  nature  upon 
Him,  which  now  He  hath  done,  every  one  of  us 
can  believe  that  what  He  hath  done,  is  for  the 
behoof  of  mankind  ;  and  so  some  men  shall  be 
the  better  for  it,  since  our  whole  kind  by  reason 
of  His  Incarnation  is  capable  of  the  benefits  of 
His  Passion  and  the  whole  work  of  redemption. 
But  in  that  though  Christ  became  man,  yet  He 
took  not  upon  Him  the  nature  of  every  several 
man,  hence  no  man  from  His  Incarnation  could 
apply  these  benefits  unto  himself  in  special ;  for 
he  might  say,  indeed  Christ  was  made  man,  and 
so  man  may  be  the  better  for  Him,  and  have 
some  interest  in  Him  :  but  since  He  was  not  in- 
carnate into  me,  how  should  I  apply  this  unto 
myselfl  Why  therefore  the  all-wise  God,  who 
knew  our  weakness,  hath  so  ordained  in  the 
mystery  of  this  Holy  Sacrament,  that  it  is  a 
mystical  Incarnation  of  Christ  into  every  one 
who  receives  it.  Whence  Gregory  Nazienzen 
defines  the  Eucharist,  kKoivuvia  vaadKuoewc,  TOV 
QEOV,  a  Communion  of  the  Incarnation  of  God. 
For  in  that  He  affirms  the  Bread  to  be  His  Body, 
and  the  Wine  to  be  His  Blood  ;  by  receiving 
this  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,  and  so  changing 
it  into  the  substance  of  our  body,  and  into  our 
blood  by  way  of  nourishment,  the  Body  of 
Christ  becomes  our  body,  and  His  Blood  is  made 
our  blood,  and  we  become  in  a  mystical  manner 
flesh  of  His  flesh  and  bone  of  His  bone.  And 
as  in  His  conception  of  the  Holy  Virgin,  He  took 
upon  Him  the  nature  of  man,  that  He  might 
save  man  ;  so  in  His  Holy  Sacrament  He  takes 
upon  Him  the  nature  of  every  man  in  singular, 


DR.  PUSEY'S   SERMON 


that  He  might  save  every  man  who  becomes 
Him  in  the  Divine  Sacrament  of  His  Body  and 
Blood.  His  real  Incarnation  was  only  in  one, 
but  His  mystical  Incarnation  in  many :  and 
hence  comes  this  Sacrament  to  be  an  instrument 
whereby  Christ  is  conveyed  unto  us,  His  bene- 
fits applied,  and  so  our  faith  confirmed." — Disc., 
llv.,  p.  254,  ed.  1672. 

"  Now  we  know  (Exod.,  xix.,  13)  that  no  beast 
might  touch  the  mountain  when  the  Lord  ap- 
peared on  Mount  Sinai :  so  none  of  those  whom 
God  accounts  in  the  number  of  beasts  (as  all 
who  have  beastly  affections)  may  approach  in 
Christ's  presence,  or  come  unto  His  table. 

"  Wherefore,  as  God  saith,  be  ye  holy,  because 
J  am  Holy ;  so  may  it  be  said  unto  all  commu- 
nicants, be  ye  holy,  because  the  Sacrament  is  Holy. 
(Lev.,  xi.,  44,  &c.)  Whence  it  was  a  worthy 
custom  in  the  ancient  Church  for  the  Bishop  or 
Deacon  to  proclaim  at  the  Holy  Communion 
Ta  ayia  rote  ayioie,  holy  things  for  them,  that  are 
holy,  holding  in  his  hands  the  Holy  Sacraments. 
And  good  reason  why  ;  for  where  this  holiness 
is  not,  there,  instead  of  comfort,  the  heart  is 
more  and  more  corrupted.  Even  as  the  spider 
gets  strength  of  poison  from  the  sweetest  herbs 
and  flowery  ;  so  the  profane  heart  is  strengthen- 
ed in  wiMedness  by  receiving  this  holy  and 
heavenly  food. 

"The  heinousness  of  this  sin  is  aggravated 
in  respect  of  the  thing  received  :  for  our  Apos- 
tle elsewhere  saith,  the  unworthy  receiver  be- 
comes Guilty  of  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ 
(1  Cor.,  xi.,  27),  that  is,  he  is  guilty  of  offering 
contumely,  injury,  and  indignity  unto  Him.  St. 
Paul,  when  he  dissuades  husbands  from  misu- 
sing their  wives,  gives  this  for  a  reason,  no  man 
ever  yet  hated  his  own  flesh:  (Eph.,  v.,  29)  and, 
may  not  I  reason  thus,  let  no  man  offer  injury 
unto  Christ,  because  He  is  flesh  of  our  flesh  1 
yea,  He  is  our  Head,  and  a  wound  or  maim  giv- 
en to  the  head  is  more  odious  and  dangeious 
than  to  another  part.  To  offer  violence  to  a 
common  person,  is  a  fault ;  to  strike  a  magis- 
trate, a  greater ;  hut  to  wound  a  king,  who  is  the 
Lord's  anointed,  is  a  sin  in  the  highest  degree 
O  what  a  heinous  sin  is  it  then  to  offer  violence 
to,  and  as  much  as  in  us  lies  to  strike  and 
wound  the  Son  of  God,  the  King  of  Kings  and 
the  Lord  of  Glory  ! 

u  To  be  guilty  of  death  and  shedding  of  the 
blood  of  any  innocent  man,  is  a  fearful  sin  ;  and 
this  made  David  cry  out,  Deliver  me,  0  Lord, 
from  blood-guiltiness.  (Psalm  li.,  14.)  How  fear- 
ful is  it  then  to  be  guilty  of  the  Body  and  Blood  oj 
Christ  !  Whose  heart  is  not  moved  against  the 
Jews,  when  he  hears  or  reads  their  villanies 
and  violence  offered  to  our  Blessed  Saviour  1 
But  Chrysostom  gives  us  a  good  take-heed, 
Take  heed  (saith  he)  lest  thou  be  guilty  in  the  like 
kind,  by  unworthily  receiving  of  the  blessed  Sacra- 
ment :  he  that  defiles  the  King's  body,  and  he  that 
tears  it,  offend  both  alike ;  the  Jews  tore  it,  thou 
defilest  it.  Here  are  (saith  the  same  Father)  di- 
versa  peccata,  std  par  contumelia ;  some  differ- 
ence of  the  sin,  but  none  of  the  contumely  there- 
in offered. 

"  Joseph  and  Nicodemus,  their  pious  devotion 
in  begging  and  embalming  the  Body  of  Christ, 
is  worthily  recorded  and  commended  to  all  gen- 
erations ;  Mary  Magdalene  in  bestowing  that 
box  of  precious  ointment  upon  His  holy  Head 


hath  gained  to  herself  endless  honour,  instead 
of  her  former  infamy  :  so  if  we  receive  and 
handle  worthily  this  mystical  body  of  Christ, 
our  portion  shall  be  with  honourable  Joseph  and 
pious  Mary  Magdalene,  our  memories  shall  bo 
as  theirs,  blessed,  and  our  souls  as  theirs,  to  re- 
ceive unspeakab  e  comfort :  but  if  we  come  un- 
worthily, we  join  with  Judas  and  the  Jews,  and 
are  guilty,  as  they  were,  of  the  Body  and  Blood 
of  Christ."— Disc.,  xlv  ,  p.  554,  257,  268. 

HERBERT. 
COME  ye  hither  all,  whose  taste 

Is  your  waste ; 

Save  your  cost  and  mend  your  fare, 
God  is  here  prepared  and  drest, 

And  the  feast, 

God  in  whom  all  danties  are. 
Come  ye  hither,  all  whom  wine 
Doth  define 

Naming  you  not  to  your  good ; 
Weep  what  ye  have  drunk  amiss, 

And  drink  This 
Which  before  ye  drink  is  Blood. 

THE  INVITATION 
God  to  shew  how  far  His  love 

Could  improve, 
Here,  as  broken  is  presented. 

THE  BANQUET. 

ARCHBISHOP  BRAMHALL. 

"  Having  viewed  all  your  strength  with  a 
single  eye,  I  find  not  one  of  your  arguments  that 
comes  home  to  Transubstantiation,  but  only  to- 
a  true  real  Presence  ;  which  no  genuine  son  of 
the  Church  of  England  did  ever  deny,  no,  nor 
your  adversary  himself.  Christ  said,  'This  is 
My  Body  ;'  what  He  said,  we  do  steadfastly 
believe.  He  said  not,  after  this  or  that  manner, 
neque  con,  neque  sub,  neque  trans.  And,  there- 
fore, We  place  it  among  the  opinions  of  the 
Schools,  not  among  the  articles  of  our  Faith. 
The  Holy  Eucharist,  which  is  the  Sacrament  of 
peace  and  unity,  ought  not  to  be  made  the  mat- 
ter of  strife  and  contention." — Works,  fol.  ed., 
p.  15. 

"  We  find  no  debates  or  disputes  concerning1 
the  Presence  of  Christ's  Body  in  the  Sacrament, 
and  much  less  concerning  the  manner  of  His 
Presence  for  the  first  800  years. 

"Yet  all  the  time  we  find  as  different  ex- 
pressions among  those  primitive  Fathers,  as 
among  our  modern  writers  at  this  day  :  some 
calling  the  Sacrament  '  the  Sign  of  Christ's 
Body' — '  the  Figure  of  His  Body' — '  the  Symbol 
of  His  Body'—'  the  Mystery  of  His  Body'—'  the 
Examplar,'  «  Type,'  and  '  Representation  of  His 
Body,'  saying,  'that  the  elements  do  not  recede 
from  their  first  nature;'  others  naming  it  'the 
true  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,' — changed,  not 
in  shape,  but  in  nature  ;'  yea,  doubting  not  to- 
say,  that  in  this  Sacrament  '  we  see  Christ' — 
'  we  touch  Christ' — '  we  eat  Christ' — '  that  we 
fasten  our  teeth  in  His  very  Flesh,  and  make 
our  tongues  red  in  his  Blood.'  Yet,  notwith- 
standing, there  were  no  questions,  no  quarrels, 
no  contentions  among  them ;  there  needed  no 
Councils  to  order  them,  no  conferences  to  rec- 
oncile them  ;  because  they  contented  them- 
selves to  believe  that  Christ  had  said,  '  This  is 
My  Body,'  without  presuming  on  their  own 
heads  to  determine  the  manner  how  it  is  His 
Body  ;  neither  weighing  all  their  own  words  so 
exactly  before  any  controversy  was  raised,  nor 
expounding  the  sayings  of  other  men  contrary 
to  the  analogy  of  Faith." — Ik.,  p.  16. 

"  So  grossly  is  he  mistaken  on  all  sides,  wheo. 


ON  THE  EUCHARIST. 


29 


he  saith  that  Protestants  (he  should  say  the 
English  Church,  if  he  would  speak  to  the  pur- 
pose) have  a  positive  belief  that  the  Sacrament 
is  not  the  Body  of  Christ,  which  were  to  con- 
tradict the  words  of  Christ,  '  This  is  my  Body.' 
He  knows  better  that  Protestants  do  not  deny 
the  thing,  but  the  bold  determination  of  the 
manner  by  Transubstantiation." — Ib.,  p.  226. 

"  Abate  us  Transubstantiation,  and  those 
things  which  are  consequent  of  their  determi- 
nation of  the  manner  of  Presence,  and  we  have 
no  difference  with  them  in  this  particular.  They 
are  ordained  Priests  ought  to  have  power  to 
consecrate  the  Sacrament  of  the  Body  and  Blood 
of  Christ,  that  is,  to  make  Them  present." — Ib  , 
p.  485. 

BISHOP  COSIN. 

"  Where  is  the  danger  and  what  doth  he  fear, 
as  long  as  all  they  that  believe  the  Gospel  own 
the  true  nature  and  the  Real  and  Substantial 
Presence  of  the  Body  of  Christ  in  the  Sacra- 
ment, using  that  explication  of  St.  Bernard  con- 
cerning the  manner,  which  he  himself,  for  the 
too  great  evidence  of  truth,  durst  not  but  admit ! 
And  why  doth  he  own  that  the  manner  is  spirit- 
ual not  carnal,  and  then  require  a  carnal  pres- 
ence, as  to  the  manner  itself]  As  for  us,  we 
all  openly  profess  with  St.  Bernard,  that  the 
Presence  of  the  Body  of  Christ  in  the  Sacra- 
ment is  spiritual,  and,  therefore,  true  and  real, 
and  with  the  same  Bernard  and  all  the  ancients, 
we  deny  that  the  Body  of  Christ  is  carnally 
either  present  or  given.  The  thing  we  willingly 
admit,  but  humbly  and  religiously  forbear  to  in- 
quire the  manner We  confess  with  the 

Fathers,  that  this  manner  of  Presence  is  unac- 
countable and  past  finding  out,  not  to  be  searched 
and  pried  into  by  reason,  but  believed  by  faith 
And  if  it  seems  impossible  that  the  Flesh  of 
Christ  should  descend  and  come  to  be  our  food 
through  so  great  a  distance,  we  must  remember 
how  much  the  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit  exceeds 
our  sense  and  our  apprehensions,  and  how 
absurd  it  would  be  to  undertake  to  measure 
His  immensity  by  our  weakness  and  narrow 
capacity,  and  so  make  our  faith  to  conceive  and 
believe  what  our  reason  cannot  comprehend. 

"  Yet  our  faith  does  not  cause  or  make  that 
Presence,  but  apprehends  it  as  most  truly  and 
really  effected  by  the  word  of  Christ ;  and  the 
faith  whereby  we  are  said  to  eat  the  Flesh  of 
Christ,  is  not  that  only  whereby  we  believe  that 
he  died  for  our  sins,  (for  this  faith  is  required 
and  supposed  to  precede  the  sacramental  man- 
ducation),  but  more  properly  whereby  we  believe 
those  words  of  Christ,  *  This  is  my  Body;' 
•which  was  St.  Austin's  meaning  when  he  said, 
'why  dost  thoti  prepare  thy  stomach  and  thy 
teeth  1  Believe,  and  thou  hast  eaten.'  For  in 
this  mystical  eating,  by  the  wonderful  power  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  we  do  invisibly  receive  the 
substance  of  Christ's  Body  and  Blood,  as  much 
as  if  we  should  eat  and  drink  both  visibly." — 
Hist  of  Transub.,  p.  53,  54. 

"All  that  remains  is,  that  we  should  with 
faith  and  humility  admire  this  high  and  sacred 
mystery,  which  our  tongue  cannot  sufficiently 
explain,  nor  our  heart  conceive." — Ibid. 

BISHOP  SPARROW. 
"  The  Priest  says,  '  Lift  up  your  hearts.'   For 


certainly  at  that  hour  when  we  are  to  receive 
the  most  dreadful  Sacrament,  it  is  necessary  to 
lift  up  our  hearts  to  God. 

'  Next  is  the  Consecration.  So  you  shall 
find  in  Chrysostom  and  Cyril  last  cited.  Which 
Consecration  consists  chiefly  in  rehearsing  the 
words  of  our  Saviour's  Institution,  This  is  My 
Body,  and  this  is  My  Blood,  when  the  bread 
and  wine  is  present  upon  the  Communion  Table. 
The  Holy  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper,' 
says  St.  Chrysostom,  ' which  the  Priest  now 
makes,  is  the  same  that  Christ  gave  to  His 
Apostles,'  &c.  Again,  'Christ  is  present  at 
the  Sacrament  now,  that  first  instituted  it.  He 
consecrates  this  also.  It  is  not  man  that  makes 
the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  by  consecrating 
the  holy  elements,  but  Christ  that  was  crucified 
for  us.  The  words  are  pronounced  by  the 
words  of  the  Priest,  but  the  elements  are  cdrise- 
crated  by  the  power  and  grace  of  God.  •  This 
is,'  saith  He,  'My  Body  ;'  by  this  word  the  bread 
and  wine  are  consecrated. 

"  When  the  priest  hath  said  at  the  delivery 
of  the  Sacrament,  The  Body  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  which  was  given  for  thee,  preserve  thy 
body  and  soul  unto  everlasting  life,  the  commu- 
nicant is  to  answer  Amen.  By  this  Amen,  pro- 
fessing his  faith  of  the  Presence  of  Christ's 
Body  and  Blood  in  that  Sacrament." — Rationale 
upon  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  p.  211,  216, 
220,  ed.  Oxford,  1840. 

HAMMOND. 

"  S.  You  told  me  even  now,  that  you  would 
show  me  how  the  phrase,  '  This  is  my  Body,  in 
the  Gospel,  interpreted  by,  this  taking  and  eating 
is  my  Body,'  was  to  be  understood:  perhaps  it  may 
now  be  time  for  you  to  pay  me  that  debt. 

"  C.  It  is  a  fit  reason  to  do  so  ;  for  this  very 
phrase  of  St.  Paul's,  '  The  Bread  which  we  break 
is  the  Communion  of  the  Body  of  Christ,1  is  the 
key  to  open  that  difficulty,  and  indeed  perfectly 
all  one,  of  the  very  same  importance  with  that. 
This  breaking,  taking,  eating  of  the  Bread,  this 
whole  action  is  the  real  communication  of  the 
Body  of  Christ  to  me,  and  is  therefore  by  some 
ancient  writers  called  by  a  word  which  signifies 
the  participation  (communication  and  participa- 
tion being  the  same,  only  one  referred  to  the 
giver,  the  other  to  the  receiver),  the  very  giving 
Christ's  Body  to  me ;  that  as  verily  as  I  eat  the 
bread  in  my  mouth,  so  verily  God  in  Heaven 
bestows  on  me,  communicates  to  me  the  Body 
of  the  crucified  Saviour.  And  so  all  that  I  told 
you  of  the  full  sense  of  that  phrase,  '  Communi- 
cation of  Christ's  Body,1  is  again  to  be  repeated 
here  to  make  up  the  sense  of  those  words, 
'  This  is  my  Body ;'  which  being  so  largely  en- 
larged on,  I  need  not  now  repeat  it  to  you." 
— Practical  Catechism,  p.  354,  ed.  1715. 

BISHOP  FELL.—"  Paraphrase  on  the  Epistles." 
"  For  this  Holy  Ceremony  was  not  instituted 
by  us  for  eating  and  drinking,  but  by  the  Lord 
Himself,  for  a  sacred,  solemn  commemoration 
of  His  death,  and  to  be  approached  with  all  rev- 
erence and  great  preparation,  as  being  the  Body 
and  Blood  of  the  Lord."— On  1  Cor.,  xi.,  23. 

THORND1KE. 

"  Upon  these  premises,  I  am  content  to  go  to 
issue  as  concerns  the  sense  of  the  Catholic 


30 


DR.  PUSEY'S   SERMON 


Church  in  this  point.  If  it  can  anywhere  be 
showed  that  the  Church  did  ever  pray  that  the 
Flesh  and  Blood  might  be  substituted  instead  of 
the  elements,  under  the  accidents  of  them,  then 
I  am  content  that  this  be  counted  henceforth  the 
Sacramental  Presence  of  them  in  the  Eucharist. 
But  if  the  Church  only  pray  that  the  Spirit  of 
God,  coming  down  upon  the  elements,  may 
make  them  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,  so 
that  they  which  received  them  may  be  filled 
with  the  grace  of  His  spirit ;  then  is  it  not  the 
sense  of  the  Catholic  Church  that  can  oblige 
any  man  to  believe  the  abolishing  of  the  ele- 
ments, in  their  bodily  substance  ;  because,  sup- 
posing that  they  remain,  they  may  nevertheless 
become  the  instrument  of  God's  Spirit  to  con- 
vey the  operation  thereof  to  them  that  are  dis- 
posed to  receive  it,  no  otherwise  than  His  Flesh 
and  Blood  conveyed  the  efficacy  thereof  upon 
earth.  And  that,  I  suppose,  is  reason  enough 
to  call  it  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  Sacra- 
mentally,  that  is  to  say,  as  in  the  Sacrament  of 
the  Eucharist.  It  is  not  here  to  be  denied,  that 
all  ecclesiastical  writers  do,  with  one  mouth, 
bear  witness  to  the  Presence  of  the  Body  and 
Blood  of  Christ  in  the  Eucharist.  Neither  will 
any  one  of  them  be  found  to  ascribe  it  to  any- 
thing but  the  consecration,  or  that  to  any  faith, 
but  that  upon  which  the  Church  professeth  to 
proceed  to  the  celebrating  of  it.  And  upon  this 
account,  when  they  speak  of  the  elements,  sup- 
posing the  consecration  to  have  passed  upon 
them,  they  always  call  them  by  the^name  not 
of  their  bodily  substance,  but  of  the  Body  and 
Blood  of  Christ  which  they  are  become."— Epi- 
logue, iii.,  4,  p.  30. 

L'ESTRANGE'S  ALLIANCE,  c.  vii.,  p.  209. 

Commenting  on  the  Form  of  Administration. 
"  The  Body  of  our  Lord,  4-c.]  If  you  take  a 
view  of  the  elder  forms,  as  they  stand  lateral  to 
the  Common  Prayer,  you  may  perceive  this  con- 
stituted by  the  coupling  and  uniting  of  the  other 
two,  which  were  before  unlawfully  divorced; 
for  the  first  form  in  the  first  book,  excluding  the 
words  commemorative  of  Christ's  Death  and 
Passion,  which  those  Divine  Mysteries  were  or- 
dered to  represent,  as  it  is  the  precise  formula 
of  the  Mass-Book,  so  might  it  be  suspected  as 
over-serviceable  to  the  doctrine  of  Transubstan- 
tiation,  to  which  the  Romanists  applied  it. 
Again,  in  the  next  Book,  the  Commemoration 
being  let  in,  and  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ 
shut  out,  that  Real  Presence  which  all  sound 
Protestants  seem  to  allow,  might  probably  be 
implied  to  be  denied.  Excellently  well  done 
therefore  was  it  of  Q.  Elizabeth's  Reformers,  to 
link  them  both  together  ;  lor  between  the  Body 
and  Blood  of  Christ  in  the  Eucharist,  and  the 
Sacramental  Commemoration  of  his  Passion, 
there  is  so  inseparable  a  league,  as  subsisl  Jhey 
cannot,  unless  they  consist.  A  Sacramental 
Verity  of  Christ's  Body  and  Blood  there  cannot 
be,  without  the  Commemoration  of  his  Death 
and  Passion,  because  Christ  never  promised  his 
Mysterious  (but  Real)  Presence,  but  in  reference 
to  such  Commemoration ;  nor  can  there  be  a 
true  Commemoration  without  the  Body  and 
Blood  exhibited  and  participated  ;  because 
Christ  gave  not  those  visible  elements,  but  his 
Body  and  Blood  to  make  that  spiritual  represen- 
tation." 


Ibid.,  chap,  x.,  p.  300. 

"  Indeed,  if  consecration  be  of  any  import,  if 
with  God  it  reconciled  anything  effectual  to- 
wards the  making  those  elements  the  Body  and 
Blood  of  Christ,  if  in  us  it  create  any  greater 
reverence  to  those  dreadful  Mysteries,  then  cer- 
tainly that  consecration  must  excel  all  others 
which  is  made  in  the  full  congregation." 

TAYLOR. 

"  It  was  happy  with  Christendom,  when  she,, 
in  this  article,  retained  the  same  simplicity 
which  she  always  was  bound  to  do  in  her  man- 
ners and  intercourse;  that  is,  to  believe  the 
thing  heartily,  and  not  to  inquire  curiously  ;  and. 
there  was  peace  in  this  article  for  almost  a  thou- 
sand years  together  ;  and  yet  that  transubstan- 
tiation  was  not  determined  I  hope  to  make  very 
evident ;  '  In  synaxi  transubstantiationem  sera 
definivit  ecclesia :  diu  satis  erat  credere,  sive 
sub  pane  consecrato,  sive  quocunque,  modo 
adesse  verum  Corpus  Christi ;'  so  said  the  great 
Erasmus :  '  It  was  late  before  the  Church  de- 
fined transubstantiation  ;  for  a  long  time  togeth- 
er it  did  suffice  to  believe,  that  the  true  Body  of 
Christ  was  present,  whether  under  consecrated 
bread  or  any  other  way  :'  so  the  thing  was  be- 
lieved, the  manner  was  not  stood  upon.  And  it 
is  a  famous  saying  of  Durandus  :  '  Verbum  au- 
dimus,  motum  sentirnus,  modum  nescimus,  prae- 
sentium  credimus  ;'  '  We  hear  the  word,  we  per- 
ceive the  motion,  we  know  not  the  manner,  but 
we  believe  the  presence ;'  and  Ferus,  of  whom 
Sixtus  Senensis  affirms  that  he  was  4  vir  nobil- 
iter  doctus,  phis  et  eruditus,'  hath  these  words : 
'  Cum  cerium  sit  ibi  esse  Corpus  Christi,  quid 
osus  est  disputare,  num  panis  substantia  man- 
eat,  vel  non  V  «  When  it  is  certain  that  Christ's 
body  is  there,  what  need  we  dispute  whether 
the  substance  of  bread  remain  or  no?'  and 
therefore  Cuthbert  Tonstal,  Bishop  of  Duresme, 
would  have  every  one  left  to  his  conjecture 
concerning  the  matter  :  '  De  modo  quo  id  fierit, 
satius  erat  curiosum  quemque  relinquere  suae 
conjecturae,  sicut  liberem  fuit  ante  Concilium 
Lateranum :'  '  Before  the  Lateran  Council,  it 
was  free  for  every  one  to  opine  as  they  please, 
and  it  were  better  it  were  so  now.'  But  St. 
Cyril  would  not  allow  so  much  liberty ;  not  that 
he  would  have  the  manner  determined,  but  not 
so  much  as  thought  upon.  '  Firmam  fidem  myte- 
riis  adhibentes,  nunquam  in  tarn  sublimibus  re- 
bus, illud  guomodo,  aut  cogitemus  aut  profera- 
bus.'  For  if  we  go  about  to  think  it  or  under- 
stand it,  we  lose  our  labour.  'Quomodo  enim 
id  fiat,  ne  in  mente  intelligere,  nee  lingua  dicere 
possumus,  sed  silentio  et  firma  fide  id  suscipi- 
mus  :'  *  We  can  perceive  the  thing  by  faith,  but 
cannot  express  it  in  words,  nor  understand  it 
with  our  mind,'  said  St.  Bernard.  '  Oportet  ig- 
itur  (it  is  at  last,  after  the  steps  of  the  former 
progress,  come  to  be  a  duty),  nos  in  sumtionibus 
divinorum  mysteriorum,  indubitatam  retinere 
fidem,  et  non  quaerere  quo  pacto.'  The  sum  is 
this  ;  The  manner  was  defined  but  very  lately  : 
there  is  no  need  at  all  to  dispute  it ;  no  advan- 
tage by  it ;  and  therefore  it  were  better  it  were 
left  at  liberty  to  every  man  to  think  as  he  pleas- 
s,  for  so  it  was  in  the  Church  for  above  a  thou- 
sand years  together ;  and  yet  it  were  better, 
men  would  not  at  all  trouble  themselves  con- 
cerning it ;  for  it  is  a  thing  impossible  to  be  un- 


ON   THE   EUCHARIST. 


derstood ;  and  therefore  it  is  not  fit  to  be  in- 
quired after." — Real  Presence,  vol.  ix.,  p.  421-23. 

"The  doctrine  of  the  Church  of  England,  and 
generally  of  the  Protestants,  in  this  article,  is — 
that  after  the  Minister  of  the  holy  Mysteries 
hath  rightly  prayed,  and  blessed  or  consecrated 
the  Bread  and  Wine,  the  symbols  become 
changed  into  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ, 
after  a  sacramental,  that  is,  in  a  spiritual  real 
manner  :  so  that  all  that  worthily  communicate, 
do  by  faith  receive  Christ  really,  effectually,  to 
all  the  purposes  of  His  Passion  :  the  wicked  re- 
ceive not  Christ,  but  the  bare  symbols  only  ;  but 
yet  to  their  hurt,  because  the  offer  of  Christ  is 
rejected,  and  they  pollute  the  Blood  of  the  cove- 
nant, by  using  it  as  an  unholy  thing.  The  result 
of  which  doctrine  is  this  :  It  is  bread,  and  it  is 
Christ's  Body.  It  is  bread  in  substance,  Christ 
in  the  Sacrament ;  and  Christ  is  as  really  given 
to  all  that  ^re  truly  disposed,  as  the  symbols 
are  ;  each  as  they  can  ;  Christ  as  Christ  can  be 
given ;  the  Bread  and  Wine  as  they  can  ;  and 
to  the  same  real  purposes,  to  which  they  are 
designed  :  and  Christ  does  as  really  nourish  and 
sanctify  the  soul,  as  the  elements  do  the  body." 
—Ibid.,  424. 

"  This  may  suffice  for  the  word  '  real,'  which 
the  English  Papists  much  use,  but,  as  it  appears, 
with  much  less  reason  than  the  sons  of  the 
Church  of  England  :  and  when  the  Real  Pres- 
ence is  denied,  the  word  '  real'  is  taken  for 
'natural,'  and  does  not  signify  '  transcendenter,' 
or  in  his  just  and  most  proper  signification. 
But  the  word  '  substantialiter'  is  also  used  by 
Protestants  in  this  question,  which  I  suppose 
may  be  the  same  with  that  which  is  in  the  Ar- 
ticle of  Trent,  '  Sacramentaliter  praesens  Salva- 
tor  substantia  sua  nobis  adest,'  '  in  substance, 
but  after  a  Sacramental  manner;'  which  words 
if  they  may  be  understood  in  the  sense  in  which 
the  Protestants  use  them,  that  is,  really,  truly, 
without  fiction  or  the  help  of  fancy,  but  ' in  rei 
veritate,'  so,  as  Philo  calls  spiritual  things,  av- 
aynaioTOTai  ovaiai, '  most  necessary,  useful,  and 
material  substances,'  it  might  become  an  in- 
strument of  a  united  confession."  .  .  .  Ibid.,  p. 
427. 

"  One  thing  more  I  am  to  note  in  order  to  the 
same  purposes  ;  that,  in  the  explication  of  this 
question,  it  is  much  insisted  upon,  that  it  be  in- 
quired whether,  when  we  say  we  believe  Christ's 
Body  to  be  'really'  in  the  sacrament,  we  mean, 
'that  Body,  that  Flesh,  that  was  born  of  the 
Virgin  Mary,'  that  was  crucified,  dead,  and  bu- 
ried \  I  answer,  I  know  none  else  that  He 
had,  or  hath  :  there  is  but  one  Body  of  Christ 
natural  and  glorified ;  but  he  that  says,  that 
Body  is  glorified,  which  was  crucified,  says  it  is 
the  same  Body,  but  not  after  the  same  manner  : 
and  so  it  is  in  the -Sacrament ;  we  eat  and  drink 
the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,  that  was  broken 
and  poured  forth ;  for  there  is  no  other  body, 
no  other  blood,  of  Christ ;  but  though  it  is  the 
same  which  we  eat  and  drink,  yet  it  is  in  anoth- 
er manner :  and  therefore,  when  any  of  the 
Protestant  divines,  or  any  of  the  fathers,  deny 
that  Body  which  was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary, 
that  which  was  crucified,  to  be  eaten  in  the 
Sacrament, — as  Bertram,  as  St.  Jerome,  as 
Clemens  Alexandrinus,  expressly  affirm  ;  the 
meaning  is  easy — they  intend  that  it  is  not  eat- 
en in  a  natural  sense ;  and  then  calling  it  « cor- 


pus spirituale,  the  word  'spiritual'  is  not  a  sub- 
stantial prediction,  but  is  an  affirmation  of  the 
manner,  though  in  disputation,  it  be  made  the 
predicate  of  a  proposition,  and  the  opposite 
member  of  a  distinction.  'That  Body  which 
was  crucified,  is  not  that  Body  that  is  eaten  in 
the  Sacrament' — if  the  intention  of  the  proposi- 
tion be  to  speak  of  the  eating  it  in  the  same 
manner  of  being;  but  'that  Body  which  was 
crucified,  the  same  Body  we  do  eat' — if  the  in- 
tention be  to  speak  of  the  same  thing  in  several 
manners  of  being  and  operating  ;  and  this  I 
noted,  that  we  may  not  be  prejudiced  by  words, 
when  the  notion  is  certain  and  easy  :  and  thus 
far  is  the  sense  of  our  doctrine  in  this  article." 
—Ibid.,  430. 

'  In  this  Feast,  all  Christ  and  Christ's  Pas- 
sion, and  all  His  graces,  the  blessings  and  ef- 
fects of  His  sufferings  are  conveyed."  — Holy 
Living,  vol.  iv.,  p.  268. 

"  When  the  holy  man  stands  at  the  Table  of 
Blessing,  and  ministers  the  rite  of  Consecration, 
then  do  as  the  Angels  do,  who  behold,  and  love, 
and  wonder  that  the  Son  of  God  should  become 
Food  to  the  souls  of  His  servants  ;  that  He  who 
cannot  suffer  any  change  or  lessening  should  be 
broken  into  pieces  and  enter  into  the  body  to 
support  and  nourish  the  spirit,  and  yet  remain 
in  heaven  while  he  descends  to  thee  upon  earth  ; 
that  He  who  hath  essential  felicity  should  be- 
come miserable  and  die  for  thee,  and  then  give 
himself  to  thee,  forever  to  redeem  thee  from 
sin  and  misery." — Ibid.,  p.  269. 

"  Have  mercy  upon  us,  0  heavenly  Father, 
according  to  Thy  glorious  mercies  and  promises, 
send  Thy  Holy  Ghost  upon  our  hearts,  and  let 
Him  also  descend  upon  these  gifts,  that  by  His 
good,  His  holy,  His  glorious  Presence,  He  may 
sanctify  and  enlighten  our  hearts,  and  He  may- 
bless  and  sanctify  these  gifts, 

"  That  this  Bread  may  become  the  Holy  Body 
of  Christ.  Amen. 

"  And  this  Chalice  may  become  the  lite  giving 
Blood  of  Christ.  Amen." 

— Office  for  the  Holy  Communion,  vol.  xv.,  p.  299. 

"  In  the  act  of  receiving,  exercise  acts  of  faith, 
with  much  confidence  and  resignation,  believing 
it  not  to  be  common  bread  and  wine,  but  holy  in 
their  use,  holy  in  their  signification,  holy  in  their 
change,  and  holy  in  their  effect :  and  believe,  if 
thou  art  a  worthy  communicant,  thou  dost  as 
verily  receive  Christ's  Body  and  Blood  to  all  ef- 
fects and  purposes  of  the  Spirit,  as  thou  dost  re- 
ceive the  blessed  elements  into  thy  mouth,  that 
thou  puttest  thy  finger  to  His  hand,  and  thy 
hand  into  His  side,  and  thy  lips  to  His  frontinel 
of  blood,  sucking  life  from  His  heart ,  and  yet 
if  thou  dost  communicate  unworthily,  thou  eat- 
est  and  drinkrst  Christ  to  thy  danger,  and  death, 
and  destruction.  Dispute  not  concerning  the 
secret  of  the  mystery,  and  the  nicety  of  the 
manner  of  Christ's  Presence  ;  it  is  sufficient  to 
thee,  that  Christ  shall  be  present  to  thy  soul,  as 
an  instrument  of  grace,  as  a  pledge  of  the  resur- 
rection, as  the  earnest  of  glory  and  immortality, 
and  a  means  of  many  intennedial  blessings, 
even  all  such  as  are  necessary  for  thee,  and  are 
in  order  to  thy  salvation.  And  to  make  all  this 
good  to  thee,  there  is  nothing  necessary  on  thy 
part  but  a  holy  life,  and  a  true  belief  of  all  the 
sayings  of  Christ  ;  among  which,  indefinitely 
assent  to  the  words  of  institution,  and  believe 


32 


DR.   PUSEY'S  SERMON 


that  Christ,  in  the  Holy  Sacrament,  gives  thee 
His  Body  and  His^Blood.  He  that  believes  not 
this,  is  not  a  Christian.  He  that  believes  so 
much,  needs  not  to  inquire  farther,  nor  to  en- 
tangle his  faith  by  disbelieving  his  sense." — Ho- 
ly Living,  vol.  iv.,  p.  172. 

"  And  therefore  the  Christian  ministry  hav- 
ing greater  privileges,  and  being  honoured  with 
attrectation  of  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ, 
and  offices  serving  to  a  better  covenant,  may 
with  greater  argument  be  accounted  excellent, 
honourable,  and  royal."— Divine  Institution  of 
Office  Ministerial,  t.  5,  $  9,  vol.  xiv.,  457. 


BISHOP  KEN. 

"  I  believe,  O  crucified  Lord,  that  the  Bread 
which  we  break  in  the  celebration  of  the  Holy 
Mysteries  in  the  communication  of  Thy  Body, 
and  the  Cup  of  blessing  which  we  bless  is  the 
communication  of  Thy  Blood,  and  that  Thou 
dost  as  effectually  and  really  convey  Thy  Body 
and  Blood  to  our  souls  by  the  Bread  and  Wine, 
as  Thou  didst  Thy  Holy  Spirit  by  Thy  breath 
to  Thy  disciples,  for  which  all  love,  all  glory  be 
to  Thee. 

"  Lord,  what  need  I  labour  in  vain  to  search 
out  the  manner  of  Thy  mysterious  Presence  in 
the  Sacrament,  when  my  love  assures  me  Thou 
art  there  1  All  the  faithful  who  approach  Thee, 
with  prepared  hearts,  they  well  know  Thou  art 
there  ;  they  feel  the  virtue  of  divine  love  going 
out  of  Thee  to  heal  their  infirmities  and  to  in- 
flame their  affections  ;  for  which  all  love,  all 
glory  be  to  Thee. 

"  O  God  Incarnate,  how  Thou  canst  give  us 
Thy  Flesh  to  eat  and  Thy  Blood  to  drink  ;  how 
Thy  Flesh  is  meat  indeed  ;  how  Thou  who  art 
in  heaven  art  present  on  the  Altar,  I  can  by  no 
means  explain  ;  but  I  firmly  believe  it  all,  be- 
cause Thou  hast  said  it,  and  firmly  rely  on  Thy 
love  and  on  Thy  Omnipotence  to  make  good  Thy 
word,  though  the  manner  of  doing  it  1  cannot 
comprehend." — Exposition  of  the  Church  Cate- 
chism. 

BISHOP  HACKETT. 
"  That  which  astonisheth  the  communicant 
and  ravisheth  his  heart  is,  that  this  Feast  afford 
no  worse  meat  than  the  Body  and  Blood  of  our 
Saviour.  These  He  gave  for  the  life  of  the 
world,  these  are  the  repast  of  this  Supper,  and 
these  we  truly  partake.  For  there  is  not  only 
the  visible  reception  of  the  outward  signs,  but 
an  invisible  reception  of  the  thing  signified. 
There  is  far  more  than  a  shadow,  than  a  type, 
than  a  figure.  Christ  did  not  propose  a  sign  at 
that  hour,  but  also  he  gave  us  a  Gift,  and  that 
Gift  really  and  effectually  is  Himself,  which  is 
all  one  as  you  would  say,  spiritually  Himself; 
for  spiritual  union  is  the  most  true  and  real 
union  that  can  be.  That  which  is  promised-, 
and  faith  takes  it,  and  hath  it,  is  not  ficrfon, 
fancy,  opinion,  falsity,  but  substance  and  verity. 
Therefore  it  cannot  choose  but  that  a  real  union 
must  follow  between  Christ  and  us,  as  there  is 
a  union  of  all  parts  of  the  body  by  the  animation 
of  one  soul But  faith  is  the  mouth  where- 
with we  eat  His  Body  and  drink  His  Blood,  not 
the  mouth  of  a  man,  but  of  a  faithful  man,  for 
we  hunger  after  Him  not  with  a  corporeal  appe- 
tite but  a  spiritual,  therefore  our  eating  must  be 
spiritual,  and  not  corporeal.  Yet  this  is  a  real 


substantial  partaking  of  Christ  crucified,  broken, 
His  Flesh  bleeding,  His  wounds  gaping :  so  He 
is  exhibited,  so  we  are  sure  to  receive  Him, 
which  doth  not  only  touch  our  outward  senses 
in  the  elements,  but  pass  through  into  the  depth, 
of  the  soul.  For  in  true  divinity  real  and  spirit- 
ual are  aequipollent : A  mystery  neither  to 

be  set  out  in  words,  nor  to  be  comprehended 
sufficiently  in  the  mind,  but  t*>  be  adored  by 
faith,  says  Calvin." — Christian  Consolations,  Bp. 
Taylor's  Works,  ed.  Heber,  vol.  i.,  p.  162. 

BISHOP  BEVERIDGE. 
"  When  we  hear  the  words  of  Consecration 
repeated  as  they  came  from  our  Lord's  own 
mouth,  'This  is  my  Body  which  is  given  for 
you,'  and  '  This  is  my  Blood  which  was  shed 
for  you,  and  for  many,  for  the  remission  of 
sins ;'  we  are  then  steadfastly  to  believe,  that 
although  the  substance  of  the  Bread  and  Wine 
still  remain,  yet  now  it  is  not  common  bread 
and  wine,  as  to  its  use  ;  but  the  Body  and  Blood 
of  Christ  in  that  Sacramental  sense  wherein 

He  spake  the  words When  it  comes  to  our 

turn  to  receive  it,  then  we  are  to  lay  aside  all 
thoughts  of  bread  and  wine,  and  the  Minister, 
and  everything  else  that  is  or  can  be  seen,  and 
fix  our  faith,  as  it  is  "  the  evidence  of  things 
not  seen,"  wholly  and  solely  upon  our  blessed 
Saviour,  as  offering  us  his  own  Body  and  Blood 
to  preserve  our  bodies  and  souls  to  everlasting 
life,  which  we  are  therefore  to  receive  by  faith, 
as  it  is  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  sted- 
fastly  believing  it  to  be,  as  our  Saviour  said, 
His  Body  and  Blood,'  which  our  Church  teaches 
us  are  verily  and  indeed  taken  and  received  by 
the  faithful  in  the  Lord's  Supper." — Necessity 
and  Advantage  of  Frequent  Communion,  p.  204, 
5,  ed.  1721. 

Whereby  He  plainly  signified,  that  what 
He  now  gave  them  to  eat  and  drink,  He  would 
have  them  look  upon  it,  and  receive  it,  not  as 
common  bread  and  wine,  but  as  his  Body  and 
Blood;  the  one  as  broken,  the  other  as  shed, 
for  their  sins." — Catechism,  p.  125. 

"  Hence  also  it  is,  that  our  Church  requires 
us  to  receive  the  Holy  Sacrament  kneeling,  not 
out  of  any  respect  to  the  creatures  of  Bread  and 
Wine,  but  to  put  us  in  mind  that  Almighty  God 
our  Creator  and  Redeemer,  the  only  object  of 
all  religious  worship,  is  there  specially  present, 
offering  His  own  Body  and  Blood  to  us,  that  we 
may  so  act  our  faith  in  Him,  and  express  our 
sense  of  His  goodness  to  us,  and  our  un worthi- 
ness of  it,  in  the  most  humble  posture  that  we 
can.  And,  indeed,  could  the  Church  be  sure 
that  all  her  members  would  receive  as  they 
ought  with  faith,  she  need  not  to  command 
them  to  receive  it  kneeling  ;  for  they  could  not 
do  it  any  other  way  :  for  how  can  I  pray  in 
faith  to  Almighty  God,  to  preserve  both  my 
body  and  soul  to  everlasting  life,  and  not  make 
my  body  as  well  as  soul,  bow  down  before  him  1 
How  can  I  by  faith  behold  my  Saviour  coming 
to  me,  and  offering  me  His  own  Body  and 
Blood,  and  not  fall  down  and  worship  him] 
How  can  I  by  faith  lay  hold  upon  the  pardon 
of  my  sins,  as  there  sealed  and  delivered  to  me, 
and  receive  it  any  otherwise  than  upon  my 
knees  1  I  dare  not,  I  cannot  do  it,  And  they 
who  can,  have  too  much  cause  to  suspect,  that 
they  do  not  discern  the  Lord's  Body,  and  there- 


ON    THE   EUCHARIST. 


33 


fore  cannot  receive  it  worthily.     Be  sure,  ou 
receiving  the  blessed  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ 
as  the  Catholic  Church  always  did,  in  an  hum 
ble  and  adoring  posture,  is  both  an  argumen 
and  excitement  of  our  faith  in  Him.     By  it  we 
demonstrate,  that  we  discern  the  Lord's  Body 
and  believe  Him  to  be  present  with  us  in  a  par 
ticular  sacramental  sense,  and  by  it  we  excite 
and  stir  up  both  ourselves  and  others  to  act  ou 
faith  more  steadfastly  upon  Him,  in  that  by  ou 
adoring  Him,  we  actually  acknowledge  him  t< 
be  God,  as  well  as  man  ;    and,  therefore,   on 
whom  we  have  all  the  reason  in  the  world  to 
believe  and  trust  for  our  salvation." — On  Fre 
quent  Communion,  p.  208. 

BISHOP  BULL. 

"  We  are  not  ignorant  that  the  ancient  Fa 
thers  generally  teach,  that  the  Bread  and  Wine 
in  the  Eucharist,  by  or  upon  the  consecration 
of  them,  do  become,  and  are  made  the  Bod) 
and  Blood  of  Christ.  But  we  know  also,  tha 
though  they  do  not  all  explain  themselves  in 
the  same  way,  yet  they  do  all  declare  their  sense 
to  be  very  dissonant  from  the  doctrine  of  sub 
stantiation.  Some  of  the  most  ancient  doctors 
of  the  Church,  as  Justin  Martyr  and  Irenaeus 
seem  to  have  had  this  notion,  that  by  or  upon 
the  sacerdotal  Benediction,  the  Spirit  of  Christ 
or  a  divine  virtue  from  Christ,  descends  upon 
the  elements,  and  accompanies  them  to  al 
worthy  communicants,  and  that  therefore  they 
are  said  to  be  and  are  the  Body  and  Blood  of 
Christ ;  thfc  same  Divinity  which  is  hypostati- 
cally  united  to  the  Body  of  Christ  in  Heaven 
being  virtually  united  to  the  elements  of  Bread 
and  Wine  on  earth.  Which  also  seems  to  be 
the  meaning  of  all  the  ancient  Liturgies,  in 
which  it  is  prayed  that  God  would  send  down 
his  Spirit  upon  the  Bread  and  Wine  in  the  Eu- 
charist."— Answer  to  Bossuet.  Hickes's  Con- 
troversial Discourses,  vol.  i.,  p.  249. 

HICKES. 

"  Nay,  I  maintain,  that  no  other  interpreta- 
tion of  these  words  (St.  Luke,  xxii.,  18,  the 
words  of  institution)  can  be  invented,  which 
shall  either  be  more  probable  than  this  of  ours, 
or  more  suitable  to  the  purpose  of  our  Saviour. 
And  indeed  that  this  is  the  true  and  only  mean- 
ing of  the  text  I  conclude  from  hence,  that  the 
Primitive  Church  always  taught  and  understood 
it  in  this  sense.  And  this  I  will  now  make 
good  by  a  cloud  of  most  unquestionable  wit- 
nesses. 

"  And  first  let  us  hear  St.  Irenaeus,  St.  Poly- 
carp's  contemporary,  a  most  egregious  asserter 
of  Apostolical  Tradition.  In  his  fourth  book, 
being  to  prove  against  the  Marcionites  that  Je- 
sus Christ  was  the  Son  of  the  One  true  God, 
who  made  the  world,  and  instituted  the  law  of 
Moses  for  the  Jews,  he  draws  his  argument 
from  the  oblation  of  the  Eucharist :  and  our 
opinion,  says  he,  "  is  agreeable  to  the  Eucha- 
rist, and  the  Eucharist  does  reciprocally  confirm 
our  opinion  :  for  we  offer  unto  the  Lord  those 
things  which  are  His,  congruously  declaring 
the  communication  and  the  unity  both  of  the 
Flesh  and  Spirit."  And  then  follow  these  words : 
"For  as  the  Bread  which  is  from  the  earth, 
partaking  of  the  invocation  of  God,  is  no  longer 
common  bread,  but  the  Eucharist,  consisting  of 
E 


two  things,  an  earthly  and  a  heavenly:  so  also 
our  bodies,  partaking  of  the  Eucharist,  are  no 
longer  mere  corruptible  bodies,  but  have  hope 
of  a  resurrection."  In  this  passage  the  holy 
father  does  most  expressly  assert,  that  the  Bread 
is  made  the  Eucharist,  that  is,  the  Body  of  Je- 
sus Christ  by  invocation  of  God,  to  wit,  by  con- 
secration, as  will  appear  more  fully  in  the  se- 
quel. In  his  fifth  book  the  same  holy  father 
disputes  against  Valentinus ;  and  maintains, 
that  Jesus  Christ  assumed  the  human  nature 
truly  and  really,  and  not  only  in  appearance,  as 
some  heretics  dreamed.  And  to  prove  this  also, 
he  applies  the  Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist. 
"And  thus,"  says  he,  "to  wit,  according  to 
these  things,  neither  has  the  Lord  redeemed  us 
with  His  Blood ;  nor  is  the  Cup  of  the  Eucha- 
rist the  Communication  of  His  Blood ;  nor  the 
Bread  which  we  break  the  communication  of 
His  Body:"  and  a  little  after  he  has  these 
words:  "when  therefore  both  the  Bread  bro- 
ken, and  the  Cup  mixed,  have  partaken  of  the 
Word  of  God,  they  become  the  Eucharist  of  the 
Body  and  Blood  of  Christ." — Christian  Priest- 
hood, App.,  p.  cccclxxxii. 

DEAN  COMBER. 

"  Only  we  must  note,  that  this  Amen  in  the 
end  of  this  [Consecration]  prayer  was  ancient- 
ly spoken  by  the  people  with  a  loud  voice ;  not 
only  to  show  their  joining  in  the  desire  that  the 
elements  may  become  truly  consecrated,  but 
also  to  declare  their  firm  belief  that  they  are 
now  to  be  esteemed  as  the  very  Body  and  Blood 
of  Christ ;  let  us,  therefore,  here  most  devoutly 
seal  all  that  the  priest  hath  done,  and  unfeign- 
edly  testify  our  faith  by  a  hearty  Amen.  Lord, 
it  is  done  as  Thou  hast  commanded,  and  I  doubt 
not  but  the  mystery  is  rightly  accomplished  ;  I 
am  persuaded  that  here  is  that  which  my  soul 
longeth  after,  a  crucified  Saviour  communica- 
ting himself  to  poor  penitent  sinners.  O  let  me 
be  reckoned  among  that  number,  and  then  I  shall 
assuredly  receive  Thee,  Holy  Jesus.  Amen." 
— Companion  to  the  Temple,  vol.  i.,  fol ,  p.  543. 

"  Still,  we  do  believe  that  every  duly  disposed 
communicant  doth  receive  really  the  Body  and 
Blood  of  Christ,  in  and  by  these  elements,  but 
t  is  by  faith  and  not  by  sense.  If  we  receive 
them  in  the  manner,  and  to  the  end  which 

hrist  appointed,  they  give  us  a  lively  remem- 
brance of  His  love  and  all-sufficient  merit,  and 
hereby  invite  our  faith  to  embrace  this  crucified 
Redeemer,  as  the  satisfaction  for  our  sins; 
whereupon  He  (who  is  most  ready  to  close  with 
penitent  sinners)  doth  by  this  rite  of  His  own 
appointing,  give  Himself  and  the  salutary  bene- 
fits of  His  death  into  such,  and  although  the 
manner  be  mysterious,  yet  the  advantages  are 
real,  and  the  effect  more  certain  than  if  we  ate 
or  drank  His  natural  flesh  and  blood." — /£.,  p. 
540. 

AN  ACT  OF  FAITH. 

'  0  Eternal  Word  of  God,  by  whose  power 
all  things  were  made,  I  will  not  ask  how  Thou 
janst  give  me  thy  Flesh  to  eat ;  because  I  am 
bundantly  satisfied  in  Thy  saying,  '  This  is  My 
Body  :'  since  thou  canst  make  it  become  to  me 
whatsoever  Thou  sayest  it  is.  I  believe,  Lord, 
help  my  unbelief!  What  though  my  senses  as- 


34 


DR.   PUSEY'S  SERMON 


sure  me,  the  outward  substance  and  its  acci- 
dents still  remain  ;  yet  my  faith  and  rny  experi- 
ence tell  me  there  is  an  efficacy  therein,  beyond 
the  power  of  any  other  thing.  Alas  !  the  Flesh 
would  profit  me  nothing,  John,  iv  ,  03,  for  he  that 
is  joined  to  Thee  must  be  one  spirit,  1  Cor.,  vi.» 
17.  Oh  let  these  sacred  Symbols  therefore  make 
me  partaker  of  Thy  nature,  and  a  partner  in 
Thy  merits :  let  them  unite  me  to  Thee,  ingraft 
me  in  Thee,  and  make  That  Body  mine  which 
did  suffer  death  for  me.  and  then  I  shall  seek 
no  farther,  but  be  more  happy  than  if  I  could 
understand  all  mysteries :  sure  I  am,  This  is 
thy  Body  in  Sacrament,  it  communicates  to  us 
the  blessings  and  benefit  thereof,  and  though 
presented  by  a  figure,  and  by  a  holy  rite,  yet  it 
is  to  all  purposes  that  which  it  doth  represent ; 
I  will  therefore  receive  it  as  Thy  Body,  and 
esteem  it  infinitely  above  all  other  food,  that  I 
may  not  be  judged  for  not  discerning  Thy  Body. 
O  let  it  be  unto  me  according  to  my  faith. 
Amen.'1 — Ib.,  p.  547. 

"  It  will  not  suffice  me,  dearest  Saviour,  to 
receive  Thee  in  part  only,  for  I  must  be  wholly 
Thine,  and  (blessed  be  Thy  name)  Thou  art 
willing  to  be  wholly  mine  also.  Thou  hast  al- 
ready given  me  Thy  Holy  Body  to  cleanse  my 
nature,  and  now  Thou  art  preparing  Thy  pre- 
cious blood  to  wash  away  my  guilt.  My  sins 
have  poured  out  every  drop  thereof,  wherefore 
Thou  presentest  it  to  me  itself,  to  show  how 
truly  Thou  didst  suffer  death  for  me.  And  now, 
O  my  Redeemer,  Thou  hast  said,  This  Cup  is 
the  Communion  of  Thy  blood,  and  Thy  truth  is 
unquestionable,  Thy  power  is  infinite,  and  Thy 
love  was  such,  that  Thou  gavest  Thy  heart's 
blood  for  me.  I  will  receive  it  therefore  as  the 
blood  of  the  Everlasting  Covenant,  the  seal  of 
all  the  promises  of  Thy  Holy  Gospel." 

*'  The  second  happiness  assured  by  this  Holy 
Eucharist  is,  that  we  are  thereby  united  to  Je- 
sus, so  as  to  have  fellowship  with  Him,  1  John, 
i.,  3,  and  in  St.  Paul's  phrase  we  do  thereby  be- 
come members  of  His  Body,  of  His  Flesh,  and  of 
His  Bone,  Eph.,  v.,  30,  for  He  gives  us  himself  to 
be  our  food,  with  intent  that  He  may  be  one 
with  us,  and  we  with  Him.  As  some  have  made 
their  leagues  of  friendship  by  drinking  each  oth- 
er's blood,  thereby  intending  to  create  a  sympa- 
thy, and  as  it  were  to  mingle  souls :  and  since 
we  have  been  fed  with  that  Food,  with  which 
God  feeds  his  dearest  children,  and  have  parti- 
cipated of  that  Spirit  which  quickens  the  great 
mystical  body  of  Christ,  1  Cor.,  xii.,  9,  we  may 
infer,  that  we  are  living  members  of  the  true 
Church  also  :  let  us  therefore  solace  ourselves 
with  reflecting  upon  the  happiness  of  our  pres- 
ent estate." 

"  The  third  benefit  which  worthy  receivers 
have  by  this  Sacrament  is,  that  it  doth  consign 
them  to  a  blessed  immortality,  and  this  follows 
from  the  former,  it  being  impossible  any  true 
member  of  Christ  should  be  left  forever  in  the 
grave ;  since  the  Head  liveth,  the  members 
shall  live  also,  John,  vi.,  64,  hence  the  Fathers 
called  it  an  antidote  against  death,  and  the 
means  to  make  us  partakers  of  our  Lord's  im- 
mortality. For  Jesus  doth  not  only  refresh  our 
souls  with  a  present  communication  of  His 
graces,  but  doth  seal  that  covenant  also,  one  con- 
dition of  which  is,  that  He  will  bring  us  to  glo- 
ry."—/*., p.  566,  7. 


ARCHBISHOP  WAKE. 
"The  Bread  which  we  break  is,  not  only  in 
figure  and  similitude,  but  by  a  real  spiritual 
Communion,  His  Body.  The  Cup  of  Blessing 
which  we  bless  is  by  the  same  Communion  His 
Blood." 

JOHNSON. 

"  Nor  can  I  conceive  how  the  words  of  St. 
Paul  can  otherwise  be  understood,  in  their  full 
scope  and  latitude,  when  he  says,  •  The  Cup  of 
blessing  which  we  bless,  is  it  not  the  Commun- 
ion?1 &c  ,  1  Cor.,  x.,  16.  He  supposed  that  the 
Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  are  communicated  to 
us  by  the  Bread  and  Wine  in  the  Holy  Eucha- 
rist. .  .  .  And  when  St.  Paul  saith  that  ignorant 
and  profane  communicants  '  do  not  discern  the 
Lord's  Body'  in  the  Holy  Eucharist,  (1  Cor.,  xi., 
29,)  and  that  '  they  are  guilty  of  (an  indignity 
towards)  '  the  Body  and  Blood  of  our  Lord,'  ver. 
27,  he  surely  takes  it  for  granted  that  the  Body 
and  Blood  are  actually  there,  whether  they  dis- 
cern it  or  not.  .  .  . 

"  I  believe  there  is  nothing  that  can  more  in- 
flame and  exalt  the  devotion  of  a  sincere  Chris- 
tian, than  to  think  and  believe,  that  when  he  is 
praying  at  God's  altar  and  receiving  the  Holy- 
Eucharist,  he  has  the  price  of  his  redemption  in 
his  hand,  or  lying  before  his  eyes." — Propitia- 
tory Oblation,  p.  28,  101. 

"  The  full  and  true  notion  of  the  Eucharist  is, 
that  it  is  a  religious  Feast  upon  Bread  and 
Wine,  that  have  been  first  offered  in  sacrifice  to 
Almighty  God,  ami  are  become  the  mysterious 
Body  and  Blood  of  Christ." — Unbloody  Sacrifice, 
vol.  ii.,  p.  18. 

"  It  was  the  universal  belief  of  the  ancients, 
that,  by  the  special  presence  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
the  Bread  and  Wine  were  made  the  Body  and 
Blood  of  Christ,  in  life  and  power,  as  they  were 
before  in  figure  or  representation.  As  the  nat- 
ural Body  of  Christ  was  formed  in  the  womb 
by  the  overshadowing  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  so> 
they  expected,  and  prayed,  that,  by  the  opera- 
tion of  the  same  Spirit,  the  Bread  and  Wine 
might  be  made  the  Body  and  Blood,  in  a  more 
effectual  manner  than  they  were,  when  offered 
to  God  as  mere  representatives  :  and  it  was 
their  certain  belief  that  the  Bread  thus  conse- 
crated by  the  secret  influence  of  the  Spirit,  was 
the  very  Body  of  Christ  in  power,  arid  energy, 
and  to  all  intents  and  purposes  of  religion,  and 
so  far  as  it  was  possible  for  one  thing  to  be  made 
another,  without  change  of  substance.  This 
was  indaed  no  Article  of  their  Creed,  because 
the  Creed  was  originally  drawn  not  for  commu- 
nicants, but  to  be  rehearsed  by  persons  that 
were  to  be  baptized,  or  their  sureties.  But  it 
was  an  Article  to  which  all  communicants  give 
their  consent  so  oft  as  they  received.  For  the 
Priest  of  old  said,  at  the  delivery  of  the  Bread 
to  every  single  communicant,  '  The  Body  of 
Christ :'  and  every  communicant  answered, 
Amen  ;  by  which  he  was  understood  to  give  his 
consent  to  what  the  Priest  said.  And  in  the 
same  manner  they  acknowledge  the  sacrament- 
al Wine  to  be  the  Blood  of  Christ.  The  prim- 
tive  Church  believed  not  any  change  of  sub- 
stance in  the  Sacrament.  For  they  ever  affirm- 
ed the  Bread  and  Wine  to  remain  after  conse- 
ration  ;  but  that  by  the  overshadowing  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  they  were  Christ's  Body  and  Blood, 


ON  THE   EUCHARIST. 


35 


not  only  by  way  of  type,  or  figure,  but  in  real 
power  and  effect. 

"  And  we  are  to  observe  that,  in  the  insti- 
tution, Christ  says  of  the  Bread,  '  This  is  My 
Body;'  of  the  Cup,  or  Wine,  'This  is  My  Blood.' 
•without  adding  any  words  to  abate  the  signifi- 
cation of  that  expression.  He  calls  the  sacra- 
mental Bread  My  Flesh,  five  times  in  six  verses 
in  this  chapter,  from  which  I  take  my  text,  be- 
ginning at  verse  51,  ending  at  verse  5fi  :  nay, 
He  calls  it  My  Flesh,  which  I  will  give  for  the  life 
of  the  world,  verse  51.  And  it  appears  under 
this  pledge  of  Bread  he  did  actually  offer  His 
Body  to  the  Father  for  the  redemption  of  man- 
kind. See  sect.  6,  and  so  on  to  the  9th,  Dis- 
course ii.  And  he  calls  the  Cup,  or  Wine,  His 
Blood,  four  times  within  the  compass  of  four 
verses,  beginning  at  the  53d,  ending  at  the  56th. 
He  knew  full  well  what  captious  hearers  he  had, 
and  that  they  were  upon  the  point  of  deserting 
Him  on  this  account;  yet  He  does  not  forhear 
to  speak  the  mystery,  as  that  mystery  deserved. 
St.  Paul  tells  them  that  unworthily  received 
the  Sacrm^nt,  that  they  were  '  guilty  of  the 
Body  and  Blood  of  the  Lord;'  and  the  same  Apos- 
tle says  of  the  Cup,  that  it  is  '  the  Commu/iion 
of  (he  Blood  of  Christ;'  and  of  the  Bread,  that  it 
is  '  the  Communion  of  the  Bodij  of  Christ,''  with- 
out any  mollifying  addition.  We  are  not,  there- 
fore, to  wonder  that  the  primitive  Church  made 
this  ..  n  Article  of  faith,  though  not  of  their  Creed. 

"And  the  consecrated  bread  and  wine  being 
thus,  by  the  secret  operation  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
made  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ,  did  fully  an- 
swer the  characters  which  Christ  gives  us  of 
nis  flesh  and  blood  in  this  6th  chapter  of  St. 
John's  Gospel." — Primitive  communicant,  p.  141— 
144. 

"  And  I  am  firmly  persuaded  that  this  is  the 
sum  of  what  Christ  teaches  us  in  this  chapter  : 
and  I  cannot  doubt  of  it  when  I  consider,  that 
this  was  the  belief  of  all  Christians  in  the  first 
and  purest  ages. 

'•  To  believe  this  doctrine  is,  indeed,  a  '  work' 
or  '  labour,'  so  our  Saviour  justly  calls  it.  A 
great  part  of  those  who  first  heard  it,  could  not 
be  persuaded  that  it  was  possible  for  him,  in 
any  good  sense,  to  give  his  flesh  to  be  eat,  his 
blood  to  be  drank;  or  that,  if  He  could,  the  ben- 
efit of  eating  and  drinking  them,  could  be  so 
great  as  He  had  promised  ;  therefore,  they  went 
away,  and  walked  no  more  with  Him,  ver.  66. 
Christ  foreknew  what  corrupt  glosses  men  of 
latter  ages  would  put  upon  his  words,  and  how 
difficult  it  would  be  for  private  Christians  to 
break  through  prejudices  and  mistakes,  made 
current  by  the  countenance  and  traditions  of 
great  men.  And  perhaps  there  is  no  one  point 
in  our  religion  that  requires  more  labour  and 
study,  to  be  rightly  informed  in,  at  this  day, 
than  this  of  which  I  am  now  speaking;  I  mean, 
the  true  discerning  of  our  Lord's  Body  in  the 
Holy  Sacrament,  and  the  benefits  promised  to 
them  who  receive  it,  in  the  sixth  Chapter  of 
St.  John's  Gospel— Ibid.,  p.  176. 

ARCHBISHOP  SHARP. 
"  But  what  then  1  Do  we  not  in  the  Sacra- 
ment truly  partake  of  the  Body  and  Blood  of 
Christ  1  God  forbid  that  anyone  should  deny 
it  There  is  none  that  understands  anything  of 
the  Sacrament  but  must  acknowledge,  that, 


therein,  to  all  worthy  receivers,  the  Body  and 
Blood  of  Christ  is  both  given  and  likewise  re- 
ceived by  them.  This  is  the  sense  of  the  Church 
of  England,  when  she  doth  so  often  declare  that 
she  owns  the  Real  Presence  of  Christ's  Body 
and  Blood  to  all  that  worthily  receive  the  Sacra- 
ment. 

"  We  do,  indeed,  own  that  Christ  is  really 
present  in  the  Sacrament  to  all  worthy  receiv- 
ers, and  in  our  Communion  Service  we  pray  to 
God  to  grant  that  we  may  eat  the  flesh  of  His 
dear  Son  and  drink  his  Blood,  &c.  All  this  we 
own,  and  it  is  very  necessary  we  should."  — 
Sermon  on  Transubslantialion,  vol.  vii. 

LESLIE. 

"  Nor  can  the  showbread  in  the  temple  be 
called  the  bread  of  our  God  so  properly,  so 
strictly,  so  eminently,  as  the  Bread  in  the  Holy 

Sacrament,  which  is  the  Body  of  Christ *. 

And  does  not,  then,  holiness  and  honour  belong 
as  much,  at  least,  to  the  Evangelical  Priesthood, 
who  offer  this  Bread  of  our  God,  as  the  priests 
under  the  Law  who  set  the  showbread  upon  the 
holy  table  in  the  temple?  And  is  not  the  one 
as  properly  the  office  of  a  priest  as  the  other?" 
— Regale  and  Pontificate. —  Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  665 

BRETT. 

",  We  may  ask  again,  if  it  be  not  convenient, 
nay,  necessary,  that  all  those  who  partake  of 
this  holy  Sacrament  should  understand  and  know 
what  it  is  they  do !  Ought  they  not  to  be  in- 
structed in  the  nature  and  desigji  of  it,  lest  they 
eat  and  drink  unworthily,  not  discerning  the 
Lord's  Body  ?  And  how  shalUhey  discern  the 
Lord's  Body,  if  they  are  not  taught  that  the 
Lord's  Body  is  here  present  1" — Sermon  on  the 
Christian  Altar  and  Sacrifice,  p.  xii. 

Verse  55.  He  says,  My  flesh  is  meat  indeed, 
and  my  Blood  is  drink  indeed,     That  Flesh  and 
Blood  of  Mine  which  I  but  now  promised  you 
that  /  will  give  for  the  life  of  the  world,  is  indeed 
true  life-giving  meat  and  drink.     <  He  that  eat- 
eth  My  Flesh  and  drinketh  My  Blood  dwelleth 
in  Me  and  I  in  him.'     He  is  in  me  as  a  member 
of  my  Mystical  Body,  and  I  in  him  by  imparting 
to  him  of  My  life-giving  Spirit.     'As  the  living 
Father  sent  Me,  and  I  live  by  the  Father,  so  he 
that  eateth  Me  shall  live  by  Me.'    As  the  Fa- 
ther (see  John,  v.,  26)  hath  life  in  himself  which 
He  received  from  no  other,  and  has  given  to 
Me  his  Son  to  have  life  in  Myself,  so  I  will  im- 
part true  life  to  him  that  feeds  on  Me.     This  is 
that  Bread  which  came  down  from  Heaven ;  not  as 
your  fathers  did  eat  manna  and  are  dead :  he  that 
eateth  of  this  Bread  shall  live  forever.    The  Bread 
which  I  purpose  to  give  you  is  true  heavenly 
Bread,  not  like  that  which  was  rained  down  in 
the  wilderness,  which  though  your  fathers  ate 
plentifully  of  it,  yet  they  died  in  their  sins  ;  but 
this  Bread  shall  cleanse  you  from  sin,  and  by 
virtue  of  it  those  who  feed  upon  it  shall  live  for- 
ever.    ' These  things  said  He  in  the  synagogue, 
as  He  taught  in  Capernaum.     Many,  therefore, 
of  His  disciples  when  they  heard  this,  said,  This 
is  a  hard  saying,  who  can  hear  it?'    Who  can 
believe  that  we  must  become  cannibals  and  feed 
upon  this  Man's  Flesh  and  Blood  ?  or  without 
such  feeding  must  be  deprived  of  eternal  life  or 
happiness?      'When  Jesus  knew  in   Himself 
that  His  Disciples  murmured  at  it,  He  said  unto 


36' 


DR.   PUSEY'S   SERMON 


them,  Does  this  offend  you1?'  Do  you  stumble 
at  this  ]  Does  the  faith  you  have  pretended  to 
have  now  fail  you  1  '  What  and  if  ye  shall  see 
the  Son  of  Man  ascend  up  where  He  was  before !' 
Will  ye  not  then  think  the  feeding  on  my  Flesh 
more  incredible  than  you  do  now  1  For  how 
can  you  feed  upon  it  when  it  is  here  no  more  1 
Therefore  I  will  a  little  explain  Myself  and  tell 
you  that  '  it  is  the  Spirit  that  quickeneth,  the 
flesh  protiteth  nothing :'  bare  flesh  and  blood 
without  life  and  spirit  in  them  can  quicken  or 
give  life  to  nothing.  '  The  words  that  I  speak 
unto  you,  they  are  Spirit  and  they  are  Life.' 
The  promises  that  I  have  made  you  concerning 
giving  you  my  Flesh  and  Blood  to  eat  and  drink, 
if  you  had  attended  to  them,  might  have  satis- 
fied you  that  I  spake  of  such  Flesh  and  Blood 
as  should  have  a  quickening  Spirit  conveyed 
with  them.  For  I  plainly  told  you  that  as  '  I 
live  by  the  Father,  so  he  that  eateth  Me  shall 
live  by  Me.'  I  will  quicken  or  give  him  life  by 
My  Spirit,  that  Spirit  by  which  My  Body  lives, 
and  whose  quickening  or  life-giving  virtue  I 
will  impart  to  that  material  thing  which  I  shall 
make  my  Body  and  Blood,  when  I  give  this  nat- 
ural Body  and  Blood  of  Mine  '  for  the  life  of  the 
world,'  or  the  redemption  of  mankind.  It  is  not 
Christ's  doctrine  that  quickens  and  gives  us 
life,  but  His  Spirit,  that  Spirit  which  gave  life 
to  His  own  Body,  and  which  together  with  His 
Body  and  Blood,  or  something  which  He  digni- 
fies with  that  name,  which  He  has  appointed  to 
give  us  life.  The  Body  and  Blood,  then,  or 
Flesh  and  Blood,  which,  in  this  chapter,  He 
promised  to  give  (saying,  '  My  Flesh  which  I 
give')  for  our  food  which  should  nourish  us  unto 
eternal  life,  can  be  no  other  than  that  Bread 
and  Wine  which  He  gave  when  He  instituted 
the  Holy  Eucharist  or  Lord's  Supper,  at  which 
time  he  dignifieti  them  with  the  name  and  vir- 
tue of  His  Body  and  Blood.  And  so  the  Holy 
and  most  ancient  Fathers  (who  lived  nearest  to 
the  Apostles'  days,  and,  therefore,  best  under- 
stood the  Apostles'  language  and  doctrine,  con- 
sequently could  best  expound  them)  have  inter- 
preted this  passage,  as  appears  from  St.  Ignati- 
us particularly,  who,  being  the  disciple  of  St. 
John  who  wrote  the  Gospel  where  alone  this 
discourse  of  our  Saviour  is  recorded,  is  to  be 
preferred  to  all  other  expositors ;  and  he  tells 
us,  as  I  have  before  observed,  that  the  Holy  Eu- 
charist is  the  medicine  of  immortality,  our  anti- 
dote that  we  should  not  die,  but  live  forever  in 
Christ  Jesus." — Scripture  Account  of  the  Holy 
Eucharist,  p.  113. 

"  Now  by  comparing  these  words  (the  words 
of  institution)  of  our  Saviour  which  he  spake 
when  he  communicated  this  Bread  and  Wine  to 
his  disciples,  and  called  those  elements  His 
Body  and  Blood,  with  those  He  before  spake  in 
the  sixth  chapter  of  St.  John,  which  I  have  al- 
ready proved  were  spoken  with  relation  to  the 
Holy  Eucharist ;  for  in  that  chapter,  ver.  51, 
'  The  Bread  that  I  will  give  is  My  Flesh,  which 
I  will  give  for  the  life  of  the  world.'  We  may 
thus  paraphrase  them :  *  you  may  remember 
some  time  ago  when  I  taught  in  Capernaum, 
and  the  Jews  there  told  me  of  their  fathers'  eat- 
ing manna  in  the  desert,  which  they  called  Bread 
from  heaven,  upon  which  I  promised  them,  that 
if  they  would  believe  in  Me,  I  would  give  them 
true  bread  from  Heaven,  which  should  nourish 


:  them  unto  eternal  life  ;  and  that  this  Bread  was 
;  My  own  Flesh  and  Blood.  They  thought  this 
j  a  hard  saying,  thinking  that  I  intended  they 
|  should  eat  that  natural  flesh  they  then  saw,  and 
i  that  natural  Blood  then  and  still  in  My  veins. 
I  did  not  then  think  it  proper  to  explain  Myself 
any  farther  to  them  than  to  tell  them,  that  what 
.  I  had  said  was  to  be  understood  in  a  spirit- 
j  ual  sense, '  That  it  is  the  Spirit  that  quickeneth  ; 
|  the  words  that  I  speak  unto  you,  they  are  Spirit 
and  they  are  Life.'  But  now  I  will  make  good 
that  promise  to  you  ;  here  is  Bread  and  Wine, 
which  I  have  now  offered  to  God,  and  have 
blessed  them  with  My  Spirit,  and  thereby  made 
them  My  Body  and  Blood  in  power  and  virtue. 
These  I  now  give  to  you,  eat  the  one  and  drink 
the  other,  and  you  shall  receive  all  the  benefits 
and  blessings  you  then  heard  Me  promise  to 
those  who  should  eat  My  Flesh  and  drink  My 
Blood,  '  I  will  raise  you  up  at  the  last  day,  and 
you  shall  dwell  in  Me  and  I  in  you.'  And  that 
the  Church  of  England,  (to  whose  Book  of  Com- 
mon Prayer  this  author  gave  his  assent  and  con- 
sent, when  he  was  first  admitted  to  a  cure  of 
souls  in  London)  believes  the  sixth  chapter  of 
St.  John  to  relate  to  the  Holy  Eucharist,  is 
plain,  for  it  is  upon  the  authority  of  that  chapter 
only  that  she  can  say  in  her  Exhortation  to  her 
communicants,  that  '  If  with  a  true  penitent 
heart  and  lively  faith  we  receive  that  Holy  Sac- 
rament, then  we  spiritually  eat  the  Flesh  of 
Christ  and  drink  his  Blood,  then  we  dwell  in 
Christ  and  Christ  in  us,  we  are  one  with 
Christ  and  Christ  with  us  :'  for  there  is  no  other 
place  of  Scripture  but  the  sixth  chapter  of  St. 
John's  Gospel  where  this  doctrine  is  to  be 
learned."— /Wd.,  p.  137. 

WHEATLEY. 

"  In  these  words  of  the  Consecration  Prayer, . 
"Hear  us,  0  merciful  Father,"  &c.,  the  sense 
of  the  former  is  still  implied,  and  consequently 
by  these  the  elements  are  now  consecrated,  and 
so  become  the  Body  and  Blood  of  our  Saviour,. 
Christ."— c.  iv.,  s.  xxii..  p.  301,  Oxf.  ed.,  1819. 

"  A  Real  Presence  of  the  Body  and  Blood  of 
Christ  in  the  Eucharist  is  what  our  Church  fre- 
quently asserts  in  this  very  office  of  communion, 
in  her  Articles,  in  her  Homilies  and  her  Cate- 
chism ;  particularly  in  the  two  latter,  in  the  first 
of  which  she  tells  us,  '  Thus  much  we  must  be 
sure  to  hold,  that  in  the  Supper  of  the  Lord 
there  is  no  vain  ceremony,  no  bare  sign,  no  un- 
true figure  of  a  thing  absent — but  the  Commu- 
nion of  the  Body  and  Blood  of  the  Lord  in  a 
marvellous  incorporation,  which,  by  the  opera- 
tion of  the  Holy  Ghost,  is  through  faith  wrought 
in  the  souls  of  the  faithful,  &c.,  who  therefore, 
(as  she  farther  instructs  us  in  Catechism)  verily 
and  indeed  take  and  receive  the  Body  and  Blood 
of  Christ  in  the  Lord's  Supper.  This  is  the 
'doctrine  of  our  Church  in  relation  to  the  Real 
Presence  in  the  Sacrament,  entirely  different 
from  the  doctrine  of  Transubstantiation,  which 
she  here,  as  well  as  elsewhere,  disclaims." — > 
Ibid.,  s.  xxxi.,  p.  330. 

BISHOP  WILSON. 

"  We  offer  unto  thee,  our  King  and  our  God, 
this  Bread  and  this  Cup. 

"  We  give  thee  thanks  for  these  and  for  all 
Thy  mercies,  beseeching  Thee  to  send  down. 


ON   THE   EUCHARIST. 


37 


Thy  Holy  Spirit  upon  this  sacrifice,  that  He 
may  make  this  Bread  and  Body  of  thy  Christ, 
and  this  Cup  the  Blood  of  thy  Christ ;  and  that 
all  w%,  who  are  partakers  thereof,  may  thereby 
obtain  remission  of  our  sins,  and  all  other  bene- 
fits of  His  Passion. 

"  And,  together  with  us,  remember,  O  God, 
for  good,  the  whole  mystical  Body  of  thy  Son  : 
that  such  as  are  yet  alive  may  finish  their  course 
with  joy  ;  and  that  we,  with  all  such  as  are  dead 
in  the  Lord,  may  rest  in  hope  and  rise  in  glory, 
for  thy  Son's  sake,  whose  death  we  now  com- 
memorate. Amen. 

"May  I  always  receive  the  Holy  Sacrament 
in  the  same  meaning,  intention,  and  blessea  el- 
fect,  with  which  Jesus  Christ  administered  it  to 
his  Apostles  in  his  last  Supper." — Sacra  Friva- 
ta,  p  93,  94. 

"  If,  therefore,  he  ask  how  often  he  should  re- 
ceive this  Sacrament,  he  ought  to  have  an  an- 
swer in  the  words  of  an  ancient  writer :  *  Re- 
ceive it  as  often  as  you  can,  that  the  old  serpent, 
seeing  the  .blood  of  the  true  Paschal  Lamb  upon 
your  lips,  may  tremble  to  approach  you."" — Pa- 
rochialia,  ed.  1840,  p.  63. 

GRABE. 

"  The  English  divines  teach  that,  in  the  Holy 
Eucharist,  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,  under 
the  species,  that  is,  the  signs  of  bread  and  wine, 
are  offered  to  God,  and  become  a  representa- 
tion of  the  Sacrifice  of  Christ  once  made  upon 
the  Cross,  whereby  God  may  be  made  propi- 
tious."—  Daniel  Brevint,  <$-c.,  Jeremy  Taylor. 
M.S.  Adversaria,  printed  Tract,  81,  p.  368. 

BISHOP  OF  EXETER. 

"  When  any  of  us  speak  of  this  great  mys- 
tery in  terms  best  suited  to  its  spiritual  nature  ; 
when,  for  instance,  we  speak  of  the  real  Pres- 
ence of  Christ's  Body  and  Blood  in  the  Holy 
Eucharist,  there  is  raised  a  cry,  as  if  we  were 
symbolizing  with  the  Church  of  Rome,  and,  as 
if  this  Presence,  because  it  is  real,  can  be  no- 
thing else  than  the  gross,  carnal,  corporeal  pres- 
ence indicated  in  Transubstantiation.  Now 
here,  as  with  respect  to  Baptism,  I  will  not  ar- 
gue the  point,  but  will  merely  refer  to  the  lan- 
guage of  our  Church,  in  those  authorized  decla- 
rations of  its  doctrine  to  which  we  have  assent- 
ed, and  in  those  formularies  which  we  have  both 
expressly  approved,  and  solemnly  engaged  to  use. 

"  It  is  very  true,  that  none  of  these  declara- 
tions or  formularies  use  the  phrase  '  real  Pres- 
ence ;'  and,  therefore,  if  any  should  attempt  to 
impose  ftie  use  of  that  phrase  as  necessary,  he 
would  be  justly  open  to  censure  for  requiring 
what  the  Church  does  not  require.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  if  we  adopt  the  phrase,  as  not  only 
aptly  expressing  the  doctrine  of  the  Church,  but 
also  as  commended  to  our  use  by  the  practice 
of  the  soundest  divines  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, in  an  age  more  distinguished  for  depth,  as 
well  as  soundness,  of  Theology  than  the  pres- 
ent— such  as  Abp.  Bramhall,  Sharp,  and  Wake, 
(all  of  whom  do  not  only  express  their  own 
judgment,  but  also  as  witnesses  of  the  general 
judgment  of  the  Church  in  and  before  their 
days  ;  '  No  genuine  son  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land,' says  Bramhill, '  did  ever  deny  a  true  Pres- 
ence ;')  if,  I  say,  we  adopt  the  phrase,  used  by 
such  men  as  these,  and  even  by  those  who,  at 


the  Reformation,  sealed  with  their  blood  their 
testimony  to  the  Truth  against  the  doctrine  of 
Rome,  (I  allude  especially  to  Bishops  Ridley 
and  Latimer — and  even  to  Cranmer,  who,  when 
he  avoided  the  phrase  so  abused  by  the  Roman- 
ists, did  yet  employ  equivalent  words)  it  will  be 
sufficient  for  the  justification  both  of  them  and 
of  us,  to  show,  that  the  language  of  the  Church 
itself  does,  in  fact,  express  the  same  thing,  though 
in  different  terms.  Still,  I  fully  admit,  that  Chris- 
tian discretion  would  bid  us  forbear  from  the 
use  of  the  phrase,  if  the  objection  to  it  were 
founded  on  a  sincere  apprehension  of  giving  of- 
fence to  tender  consciences  ;  and  not,  as  there 
is  too  much  reason  to  believe,  on  an  aversion  to 
the  great  truth  which  it  is  employed  to  express/ 
—Charge,  p.  69-71. 


The  following  summary  of  the  "Anglo-Catho- 
lic doctrine  of  the  Eucharist'-'  is  added,  not  with- 
any  view  of  introducing  the  respected  author 
into  the  controversy,  but  as  extracted  from  a 
work  which,  since  the  publication  of  the  first 
edition,  has  received  the  sanction  of  the  most 
Reverend  the  Archbishops  of  Canterbury  and 
Armagh,  to  whom  it  is,  with  permission,  in- 
scribed. 

"  This  Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church  has  al- 
ways avoided  any  attempt  to  determine  too  mi- 
nutely the  mode  of  the  true  Presence  in  the 
Holy  Eucharist.  Guided  by  Scripture,  she  es- 
tablishes only  those  truths  which  Scripture  re- 
veals, and  leaves  the  subject  in  that  mystery, 
with  which  God  for  His  wise  purposes  has  in- 
vested it.  Her  doctrine  concerning  the  true 
Presence  appears  to  be  limited  to  the  following 
points  : 

"  Taking  as  her  immovable  foundation  the 
words  of  Jesus  Christ :  '  This  is  My  Body  .  .  . 
This  is  My  Blood,  of  the  new  Covenant ;'  and 
1  Whoso  eateth  My  Flesh  and  drinketh  My  Blood 
hath  eternal  life ;'  she  believes  that  the  Body 
or  Flesh,  and  the  Blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  the 
Creator  and  Redeemer  of  the  world,  both  God 
and  man,  united  indivisibly  in  one  Person,  are 
verily  and  indeed  given  to,  taken,  eaten,  and  re- 
ceived by  the  faithful  in  the  Lord's  Supper,  un- 
der the  outward  sign  or  form  of  Bread  and 
Wine,  which  is,  on  this  account,  the  '  partaking 
or  communion  of  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ.' 
She  believes  that  the  Eucharist  is  not  the  siga 
of  an  absent  body,  and  that  those  who  partake 
of  it  receive  not  merely  the  figure,  or  shadow, 
or  sign  of  Christ's  Body,  but  the  reality  itself. 
And  as  Christ's  divine  and  human  natures  are 
inseparably  united,  so  she  believes  that  we  re- 
ceive in  the  Eucharist,  not  only  the  Flesh  and 
Blood  of  Christ,  but  Christ  himself,  both  God 
and  man. 

"  Resting  on  these  words,  '  The  Bread  which 
we  break,  is  it  not  the  communion  of  the  Body 
of  Christ?  and  again,  'I  will  not  drink  hence- 
forth of  this  fruit  of  the  Vine;'  she  holds  that 
the  nature  of  the  Bread  and  Wine  continues  af- 
ter consecration,  and,  therefore,  rejects  tran- 
substantiation,  or  '  the  change  of  the  substance,' 
which  supposes  the  nature  of  bread  entirely  to. 
cease  by  consecration. 

"As  a  necessary  consequence  of  the  prece- 
ding truths,  and  admonished  by  Christ  Himself, 
'  It  is  the  Spirit  that  quickeneth,  the  flesh  prof- 


38 


DR.  PUSEY'S  SERMON  ON  THE  EUCHARIST. 


iteth  nothing ;  the  words  that  I  speak  unto  you 
they  are  Spirit  and  they  are  life ;'  she  holds 
that  the  Presence  (and  therefore  the  eating)  of 
Christ's  Body  and  Blood,  though  true,  is  alto- 
gether « heavenly  and  spiritual,'  of  a  kind  which 
is  inexplicable  by  any  carnal  or  earthly  experi- 
ence or  imagination ;  even  as  the  Sonship  of 
the  Eternal  Word  of  God,  and  His  Incarnation, 
and  the  Procession  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  are  im- 
measurable by  human  understandings. 

"  Believing  according  to  the  Scriptures,  that 
Christ  ascended  in  His  natural  Body  into  Heav- 
en, and  shall  only  come  from  thence  at  the 
end  of  the  world  ;  she  rejects,  for  this  reason, 
as  well  as  the  last,  any  such  real  Presence  of 
Christ's  Body  and  Blood  as  is  ' corporeal'  or  or- 
ganical,  that  is,  according  to  the  known  and 
earthly  mode  of  existence  of  a  body. 

"Resting  on  the  Divine  promise,  'Whoso 
eateth  My  Flesh  and  drinketh  My  Blood,  hath 
eternal  life,'  she  regards  it  as  the  more  pious 
and  probable  opinion,  that  the  wicked,  those 
•who  are  totally  devoid  of  true  and  living  faith, 
do  not  partake  of  the  Holy  Flesh  of  Christ  in 
the  Eucharist,  God  withdrawing  from  them  so 
'.divine'  a  gift,  and  not  permitting  His  enemies 
to  partake  of  it.  And  hence  she  holds  that 
such  a  faith  is  '  the  means  by  which  the  Body 
of  Christ  is  received  and  eaten,'  '  a  necessary 
instrument  in  all  these  holy  ceremonies ;'  be- 
cause it  is  the  essential  qualification  on  our 
parts,  without  which  that  Body  is  not  received  ; 
and  because  '  without  faith  it  is  impossible  to 
please  God.' 

"  Following  the  example  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  of  the  Apostles,  and  supported  by 
their  authority,  she  believes  that  "  the  blessing," 
or  "  consecration,"  of  the  Bread  and  Wine  is 
not  without  effect,  but  that  it  operates  a  real 
change ;  for  when  the  Sacrament  is  thus  per- 
fected, she  regards  it  as  so  '  divine  a  thing,'  so 
'.heavenly  a  food,'  that  we  must  not  '  presume1 
to  approach  it  with  unprepared  minds,  and  that 
sinners,  although  they  only  partake  of  the  Bread 
and  Wine,  partake  of  them  to  their  own  con- 
demnation, because  they  impiously  disregard  the 
Lord's  Body,  which  is  truly  present  in  that  Sac- 
rament. Hence  it  is  that  the  Church,  believ- 
ing firmly  in  the  real  Presence  of  the  '  precious 
and  blessed  Body  and  Blood  of  our  Saviour  Je- 


sus Christ,'  speaks  of  the  Eucharist  as  '  high 
and  holy  mysteries,'  exhorts  us  to  consider  the 
'dignity  of  that  holy  mystery,'  that  'heavenly- 
feast,'  that  '  holy  table,'  '  the  banquet  of  that 
most  heavenly  food,'  even  '  the  King  of  kings' 
table.' 

"  Such  is  the  simple,  the  sublime,  and,  what 
is  more,  the  true  and  scriptural  doctrine  of  our 
Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church  —  a  doctrine 
which  cannot  be  accused  of  heresy  except  from 
ignorance  or  uncharitableness.  Even  our  ad- 
versaries are  compelled  sometimes,  by  the  force 
of  truth,  to  clear  the  Church  of  England  from 
the  imputation  of  disbelieving  the  sublime  mys- 
teries of  this  Holy  Sacrament,  and  reducing  it 
to  a  common  spiritual  exercise,  in  which  the 
mind  of  the  individual  derives  edification,  and 
perhaps  grace,  from  the  contemplation  and  re- 
membrance of  an  absent  Redeemer's  sufferings. 

"  Our  doctrine  leaves  this  subject  in  the  sa- 
cred mystery  with  which  God  has  enveloped  it. 
It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  the  Roman  doctrine 
of  Transubstantiation  facilitates  the  mental  con- 
ception of  that  mystery  ;  but  it  has  the  fatal  de- 
fect of  being  opposed  to  the  plain  language  of 
Scripture  ;  and  if  those  statements  are  to  be  ex- 
plained away,  and  reduced  to  merely  figurative 
expressions,  according  to  the  doctrine  of  Pas- 
chasius  Radhertus  and  his  school ;  the  Beren- 
gerians,  Zuinglians,  and  Socinians,  may  with 
reason  claim  a  similar  privilege  of  arbitrarily 
explaining  away  into  figures  the  very  passages 
in  which  the  doctrine  of  the  true  presence  itself 
is  conveyed. 

"  The  Roman  doctrine  of  Transubstantiation 
is  entirely  founded  on  human  reasoning,  on  the 
nature  of  bodies,  and  the  supposed  incompati- 
bility of  the  scriptural  statement  that  the  Eu- 
charist is  Bread  and  Wine,  literally  understood, 
with  the  other  expressions  of  Scripture.  But 
what  Bossuet  has  observed  of  the  philosophical 
reasonings  of  the  School  of  Zurich  and  Geneva 
against  the  real  Presence,  "  que  les  recevoir  en 
matiere  de  religion,  c'est  detruire  non  seulement 
le  mystere  de  1'eucharistie,  mais  tout  d'un  coup 
tous  les  mysteres  du  Christianisme,"  is  perfect- 
ly applicable  to  those  of  Romanists  for  their 
Transubstantiation." —  Palmer's  Treatise  on  the 
Church,  vol.  ii.,  p.  526-533. 


i 


•• 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


18W01JG 

REC'D  LD 

PER  1  1  1961 

OlWrDdfM^ 

•-.  •  1       .    •••...•',: 

INTERLISRARY  LO 

4N 

JUL25   1975 

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LD  21A-50m-12,'60 
(B6<221slO)476B 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

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^.^•attJL 


